Prayers to Allah in my backyard

It's freaking me out. Early Saturday morning and I'm working quietly in the kitchen while the kids are sleeping. First I hear one man's voice chanting. I never hear the word Allah, but I do hear what sounds like Akbar. The sounds are coming from somewhere in the county park across the street and the sound is circulating, getting louder and then softer. Cal joins me for breakfast on the back porch and we listen together, wondering what it is. I am becoming more and more convinced it is muslim prayer. Now I hear many men chanting. It is obviously being piped over some sound system. I suppose anyone within a half mile's radius can hear it. And Peter, over his breakfast, discerns the word Allah. Oh, my. It has come to this. And what do we do about it? I pray. I also think of Burke's: "All that is necessary for evil to triumph, is for enough good men to do nothing". Would we spend the money for weekend entrance to the park and find these men and tell them the gospel? Would we get anywhere complaining to officials about the noise pollution? Would Christians singing Holy, Holy, Holy in the same manner be allowed to do so? Could we have ever imagined that it would come to this? I take comfort in the part of the Revelation that talks about the frogs invading, brought in to the camp, that some might be conquered.

Oh, Lord, come quickly. And help us to be your hands, your feet, your voice in this perverse generation.