I listened intently as he spoke. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and my breath quickening. How could this be happening, how could he be saying these things? How is this real?
I stood at a tent caty-corner to the train tracks that run through the refugee camp in Idomeni, Greece. Giant police buses blocked the tracks and about 20 men in uniform stood around them. Roughly 40 Syrian men stood on the tracks facing the police chanting “We want our friend” over and over in English.
The man I was speaking with lived in this tent. His family of 5 slept there along with all of their clothes, shoes, food, belongings. Everything in a tent built for 4. He is just one of 15,000 refugees at this camp.
To our left across a field stood the tall barbed wire fence that drew the border between Macedonia and Greece. He explained to me what had happened the day before. At 9:00am a young Syrian man walked up to the police patrolling the fence. Many refugees have been stationed at this camp anywhere from 1-2 months. In desperation, the man began pleading with the police, asking them to open the border. He pleaded and pleaded until the police became angry.
Other Syrian men joined in the plea, until suddenly there was about 300 men in the field. Tear gas was released and rubber bullets fired.
This image was taken near the field.
Men outside of the riot grabbed their children and wives and fled to a nearby village to escape the chaos. Some lost consciousness from the gas, while others were viciously hit square in the face with rubber bullets. He was just as angry as any that the riot took place.
Remnants from the riot
We arrived at camp the day after.
There was a sense of hope lost there. Peace, but great grief.
Apathetically he said, “The borders are never going to open. We just need to understand it. They aren’t going to open.” My heart broke. I could suddenly feel the weight of all that was happening. The injustice and heartache. Not knowing what the next day looked like, mixed with fear and hope drove these people.
Each family came to the camp with hope of a “better life.” Their stories are all very similar. Many came from Syria to escape violence and hurtful governments. And have been stopped at this border on their way to other European countries for refugee.
“Each NGO has its own agenda.” But, we don’t want food, clothes, we want a life of safety. We want our lives back.” A young refugee told me.
I am asked repeatedly, what is happening there, we heard there was a riot, are you ok?
Yes, I’m fine.
You know what I’m not though?
Content.
This isn’t a funeral, unless we treat it as such.
And each story, like the one above is worthy to be heard.
I keep thinking of what the Lord has for us here. Why were we called here? We are called here to love, but what does it look like to be hope among the hopeless?
I do not have a grand platform from which to speak truths, or a humble soapbox. I don’t have much influence, nor do I have the power to make a grand change among these refugees.
But, I have a hope, a promise, and love from the Lord. And that’s what I have to give away.
Not just walking by, not just taking an image. To weep with the weary and laugh with the hopeful. Being His hands and feet aren’t an easy task, but when we are in complete surrender to Him and what He has for us, we can be all He wants for us.
Real love is finding truth and seeking it out above all else. Love here is sitting in tent after tent after tent as these refugees give you all that they have.
My only plea, my only hope, is that the truth of these refugees is placed before us.
Not “truth” from the giant camera crews who refuse to sit at a single tent or bombard my squadmate as he steps out in faith to thank a border officer.
But truth as the Lord provides. From one person to the next. Truth sought from a place of love, compassion, and mutual brokenness.
The only truth we are going to find here- is meeting people in the hard place.
And that hard place is on the ground with a cookie in your hand and a Syrian child in your lap.
Some of the children from the camp.
So, it’s time to awake from this slumber.
This slumber of media-induced disconnect.
And grieve alongside them.
Matthew 5: 4 “God blesses those people who grieve. They will find comfort.
We grieve strongly so we can love stronger.
Where can the Lord meet us, if we aren’t willing to step into the valley?
These are individuals with stories of hope- like the man by the tent or the woman I met.
That’s where the truth lies, that’s where the love exists.
