There are days when I have words in abundance. Too many days actually. I am perpetually like Peter, always wanting to speak before thinking…at times brash.
At the moment I don’t fully have words. I will. They are coming.
I have a lot of moments.
I have conversations I replay in my times alone with the Lord. Conversations with refugees who have endured more suffering in the last two years than I will likely endure in the entirety of my time on earth. Conversations with 9 year olds who talk about bombings and kidnappings as if they’re the most natural thing in the world.
I have images in my mind of the horrific photos and videos I’ve been shown casually by refugees who keep them on their phones as a reminder of the terror that plagues their family members still at home…photos of fathers holding the charred remains of their babies after the Karrada bombing, photos of children eating snow in the absence of water while crossing the mountainous border between Iraq and Turkey, videos of the inside of hospitals while they’re being taken by ISIS (or Daesh)…the list goes on.
I have unlikely friendships…with women and children who come from a world completely foreign to me, but who bear the mark of a Creator who loves them and who is more heartbroken that they have endured this suffering than I will ever be.
I have smiles. Smiles of relief on the faces of the women and children who come to the church for rest, games, refreshments, and showers. Smiles on the faces of the girl and mother who have escaped lives of patriarchal oppression and have hope for a new day. Smiles in the midst of hardship and pain.
I have a Father who listens to me as I pour out my heart in lament to Him…a Father who assures me that as deeply as I think I love these people, I will never fully understand His love for them this side of heaven.
And I have Jesus. Ultimately I have Jesus, the ultimate sufferer, the one who is so much more than the prophet status to which Islam assigns Him. He sets the captives free. He brings peace. He brings hope. He brings reconciliation. He calls me to love these women and children as He has loved me. He calls me to point them to Him, the one who provides lasting hope in the midst of suffering. He tells them that He sees them, He hears their stories, and He is calling us, His body, to respond.
I had more words than I realized, I guess. There are more to come. There will be ways for you to respond. But for now, here are some photos. Please pray for these beautiful faces. Thanks, friends.
