Love has no language, yet love itself is a language.
Everyday we work with over a thousand refugees who have been stripped of everything they know. One day they lived on the boarder of Somalia fighting for their lives and now they live on a refugee camp, safe from war, yet hopeless because they have lost all the things they once lived for. They live in tiny tin houses with pretty large families. They all own only a couple of outfits and each family typically only has one bed. Some of them were once doctors and lawyers, other of them farmers, and the social classes are alive and well, yet they all have one thing in common. These are hurting people who have never experienced the true love of the Father.
At the camp, our everyday looks like teaching kids English who would rather just cuddle up next to us. It looks like being surrounded by thirty plus kids who all want to hold our hands. It looks like being pulled in every which direction and sitting down only to not be able to stand up because everyone wants to help you. It looks like running through an open field and turning around to see at least fifty kids chasing you. It looks like singing the same songs over and over again and watching the sweet kids loosen up and have some fun which they don’t always get to do. It looks like short hours that make for long days. It looks like using my little knowledge of Oromic (their language) and a whole lot of hand gestures to communicate. It looks like a place where there is so much hurt and hopelessness, over a thousand Muslims, and no mentioning of Jesus’s name. But if I have learned anything, it is that the name of Jesus doesn’t need to be spoken for his presence to be felt. His love just has to be given.
These kids fight for the next opportunity to sit by us, be held, hold our hand, kiss us on the cheek, be recognized by us, and just experience the love we have to give. A love that’s not our own, but comes straight from the Father. A love worth fighting to feel. Each day as I prepare to step foot into the camp, I pray that the Lord guides each and every step I take. I pray that they don’t see the face of Taley or hold the hand of Taley, but rather that of Jesus. Each day, I pray that someone new gets to encounter Jesus. That someone new gets to be touched by God’s love. That someone new will experience the Holy Spirit. That another hopeless person will recieve hope.
Love has no language, yet love itself is a language. No words have to be spoken and they notice something different about us. They can see Jesus in us and through us even though they don’t really know Jesus. We get the most real opportunity to be the hands and feet of Jesus to these people and know that we don’t take that lightly.
1 John 4:10-11, 16
“This is love. Not that we loved God, but that he loved us and send his son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us…And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them.”
We are charged with one thing as we go through our days at the camp and life with Jesus. We are to love without boundaries. To love people as they are. To hug the little girls with lice and little boys who haven’t showered in weeks. We are to listen even when we don’t always understand. We are to give of our time generously if it makes someone feel seen who usually isn’t. We are to serve even when we feel as though we don’t have the strength. We are to speak out of love. We are to represent Jesus through our actions because sometimes we just can’t use our words. The spirit of the Lord is being made known each and everyday through this love and revival for these people is coming.
