Instead of going to Kosovo as planned for month four of the World Race, my team was sent to the island of Lesvos, Greece in response to the refugee crisis.
This has been one of the most surreal months of my life.
I came on the island with no expectations, honestly not knowing much about the refugee crisis besides the extremities portrayed on the news and the political agendas expressed on social media.
My prayer this month was to be able to see truth behind this situation so relevant to the world today.
Before we made it to the island of Lesvos, my team spent the night at a church in Athens and even attended their Sunday service. During church, we read a passage from Ecclesiastes 11 which in my Bible is titled “Bread Upon the Waters”.
This passage says we are not called to always understand the works of God but we are always called to respond to the works of God.
“If the clouds are full of water, they pour rain upon the earth. Whether a tree falls to the south or to the north, in the place where it falls, there it will lie. Whoever watches the wind will not plant; whoever looks at the clouds will not reap. As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things.” Ecclesiastes 11:3-5
When the speaker at the Greek church was done reading the entire passage he said, “You can’t control circumstances, but you can control your sowing, and God will control your reaping.”
I thought this passage was so relevant to my World Race team as we were being sent last minute to Greece not knowing what we would be encountering.
Because of the rough winter seas and the European Union paying Turkey 3 billion dollars for stricter border control, my team went our first several days without meeting a refugee.
“I feel like I’m in a museum“, Bekah, my squad leader, said as we sat at the front gate of an empty refugee camp on a bitter, cold winter night. She said, “It’s like we are here and we can see everything, but we really haven’t yet.”
That night, We looked towards the sea through an old pair of binoculars. We can see Turkey only a few miles across the sea. “Do you think they know?” Bekah asked me, “Do you think they know we are over here waiting for them? It’s crazy to think that they’ve traveled so far, for so long, running away. They think that no one wants them. They don’t know that we want them to come. They don’t know we’re here waiting for them.”
A couple of days later, I walk along the shore where thousands of refugees have landed. It’s hard to not think about anything else but the lives of those who made it across the waters. All I see is abandoned boats, abandoned life jackets, abandoned clothes and shoes.
I sit on a rock and watch the waves hit the shore. I listen to the crashing of the water. I think about how many times those waves have hit the shore, over and over again, never missing their cue.
I look around again, trying to take in all that I see. Trying to understand why the Lord brought me here for such a time as this. I’m on the shore of this Greek island sitting in the middle of what looks like the remnants of a shipwreck. I start praying.
You are the Glory of this wreckage.
It’s so clear. It comes to me like a song.
You are the perfection in the weakness of this world. Let them turn to you. Let their knees hit the ground.
The waves will keep moving. The world will keep crashing. With new days are new dangers. But you are the glory of this wreckage.
Even in a time when they are fleeing persecution, they are running to places where God’s people have come together to welcome them with the same love that Jesus gave when He died for them on the cross.
I think this was something I needed to understand before I even met a refugee. I think regardless of how much research I did, or how many opinions I tried to understand about the refugee crisis, this was the most important. This is why God brought me here.
These last few weeks on the island have been some of the most filling of my life. I think I feel God’s love more when I take the time to love others.
My prayers are for the refugees my team has met. For the families we have given bottled water and bananas to. For the children we have laughed and played with. For the new friends we have drank hot tea with.
It’s hard to imagine everything that these humans have been through. Sometimes I forget that the faces returning a large smile at me are the same faces that have seen war, that have fled through countries, sometimes on foot, sometimes alone, sometimes leaving their families, sometimes having already lost all their loved ones.
It’s even harder to be with them for a only few hours before they are bused to the next refugee stop. However, the worst is knowing that their difficult journey is not over and that there won’t always be warm faces greeting them, waiting for them, wanting them to come.
I’m thankful for the volunteers at our camp. For the investment here. For people who chose to cast their bread by these waters and love those who are running from darkness.
To God be the Glory.
