I really never thought I would write again on here. The last time I did was July 2016 and I was going into month 8 of the World Race. I’ve been home now 11 months.
So let me give some background. Month 8 of the Race my team went to Turkey—one of the most influential months of my Race, and I think an excellent preparation for what would be become the climax of it.
Month 9, my team and I traveled to the Greek island of Lesvos. Lesvos is an incredibly beautiful island that is typically a tourist hub which has become the epicenter of the refugee crisis since 2015 due to the fact that it is just 4 miles off the coast of Turkey, the typical last stop for refugees before trying to get into Europe.
I knew there was something special about Lesvos and specifically Moria, the name of the camp we worked at, from day one.
Initially, I was taken aback by how the camp seemed to be a microcosm of the world. I expected there to be Syrians and Iraqis but in addition there were some 30+ nationalities and on top of that another 10-15 countries represented by aid workers and volunteers.
The other thing you immediately noticed was that this was a hard place. Most refugees saw Europe, and therefore Greece, as the Promised Land. They had journeyed at great risk and expense for years to get here, but what they arrived at was much different than their expectations.
Moria was never meant to be a long term camp but more of a transition camp before getting refugees to the mainland. However when the EU shut their boarders in the spring of 2016 that all changed. All of a sudden the asylum processing crawled to almost a complete stop. While the influx of refugees did slow down after that, there were still hundreds of new arrivals each week.
Moria quickly became vastly overpopulated. Families with small children and pregnant women were being forced to share tents that would flood in the rain and lacked insulation for warmth at night. Basic necessities became hard to come by as resources were depleted faster than they could be replenished.
The circumstances also bred regular riots, assaults, intense racism, and sex trafficking. On the outside of Moria the words “Welcome to Prison” were spray painted on the wall. It was hard to argue with the sentiment.
However you feel about the refugee crisis please recognize that these people had fled for their lives. They didn’t want to come to Europe or America, they wanted to go home but that was simply not an option for most of these people, and this crisis didn’t spare anyone. The elderly, young, disabled, sick, and pregnant inhabited camp.
With all of this mind, my team started out our month to serve in whatever way we could rightfully apprehensive about the daunting task that lay ahead of us. I don’t think any of us anticipated all that would come of it, or that we would decide to make this the final destination for our Race.
In those 3 months, we worked hard and served in very trying and stressful conditions. We said the word ‘no’ 50 times for every time we were able to say ‘yes’. We were yelled at daily, saw several riots, and even witnessed the camp burn almost completely to the ground.
But we stayed.
I’ve served in a lot of capacities for a lot of different programs throughout my life and the overwhelming driver for me, if I’m being completely honest, has always been my will power. I might believe in the purpose of what I am doing in principle but serving has always been a work to me. My motivation, more often than not, is a selfish ambition not a humble love (you can read my blog Fast and Free for more on that).
But in Moria, my heart grew. In one of the hardest places I have ever been, I found myself starting to really care.
I fought for people who I couldn’t communicate with without a translator. I freely gave my belongings to meet their needs. I did more than I was required to do, and I wanted to. I don’t say that to try to make myself look like a saint. I tell you because I had never before felt genuine compassion strong enough to lead me to do it.
My time in Moria permanently changed me. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about it and desired to be back there. That sentence feels really silly. So many people would do anything to get out of Moria, but I’ve never felt more human than within its walls.
If you have talked to me about my Race, you have heard me talk about Lesvos. I went to 17 countries last year. I’ve been to some 24 countries in my life. Lesvos is unlike any other place I have ever been.
So when some friends in Arlington wanted to go on an international trip this Fall with the purpose of seeking the Lord together there was really only one option for me.
I’m currently sitting in the Athens airport. I just got off a plane from Lesvos after spending the past week there. I wept like a baby on that flight (you should have seen how uncomfortable the flight attendant was). I think I’ll probably cry some more before I land in DC.
I had a conversation last night with my teammate from the Race who has currently been back on Lesvos for the past 7 months. She told me how Lesvos has showed her what true contentment is. That for the first time in her life she has had an answer to the question “if you could be anywhere and do anything, what would you do?”.
This past week was full. Full of relationships. Full of beauty. Full of suffering. Full of pain as I experienced my heart once again begin to love new families and reunite with old friends passing through Moria only to have to leave once again.
I saw many friends some who travelled from neighboring islands just to visit. We broke bread and laughed. I was encouraged seeing so many people who I had served alongside a year earlier who had come back because they shared my love for Moria and the transient population who called it home.
This place is truly special. It broke my heart to leave. When I left I knew I needed to write about it, but I wasn’t sure at the time what the purpose of my writing needed to be. But now I think it is to express my gratitude. How truly thankful I am to have to have Lesvos as a part of my story.
How thankful I am for all the people I encountered during my time there who have changed me, for the people I have served alongside, and my friends who were dumb enough to follow me to Greece this past week.
But most of all I’m thankful to my Father who never ceases to amaze me. Who has the ability to take the worst this world has to offer and make something beautiful out of it. Who never stops molding my heart to match His.
I don’t know when I’ll be back, and that makes me sad. However the Lord has proven His faithfulness to me time and time again, and I know I carry the lessons I learned on that island with me everywhere I go.
The name Moria in Lord of the Rings means black chasm or pit. It literally means a place of darkness. It is a fitting name.
But in this place of intense darkness, I was forever changed by the light that I saw.
Despite the lack there was incredible generosity. Despite the yelling there were genuine smiles. Despite the language barrier there were shared laughs. Despite the hate there was love. Despite the despair there was hope.
In Moria I witnessed firsthand the words of John ring true.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
Wall outside of Moria
“Life Jacket Graveyard” Over 500,000 life jackets each one has a story.
