What ministry am I even doing in Malaysia?
I am yet again working with refugees! Except this month it looks a lot different than it did in Greece.
I am working with Burmese Refugee Children. It is a lot more relational, a lot less high stress, but still a very hard situation.
Malaysia is one of the worst places to seek asylum as a refugee. The Malaysian Government does not recognize refugees as anything but illegal immigrants, even if they have paperwork from the UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees).
The refugees here are persecuted and imprissoned on a regular basis. They came to this country running from persecution, hoping to find acceptance, but they didn’t find open doors.
This month I am volunteering at a school for these refugee children. It isn’t a government funded school, in fact the Malaysian government doesn’t even allow refugee children to go to any type of school. This school is ran by volunteers seeking to help a hurting unreached people.
So, if you are wondering why I haven’t posted a million pictures of their smiling faces – it is because I don’t want to endanger them or their families. The police have raided the school before, and have even taken students to jail. If you are wondering why I cannot post the name of the school, or any names of the people working or volunteering there, it is because that this is an extremely difficult situation and people can get deported for even helping this people group. This is the situation we are surrounded by.
A difficult situation where when asking for morning prayer requests, a 10year old boy causally disclosed that his Uncle was killed hours prior that morning, and that his Aunt was also jumped by gangsters.
A situation where when I asked a child to finish the sentence “when I walked out of my door this morning,_______” instead of completing the sentence with the weather, she finished the sentence with “I got caught by the police”.
Yet, in the midst of all of that – they carry on. Surrounded by all of the chaos, emotion, and noise, I am just trying to understand the hurt, the pain, and the confusion that these kids are going through – I am just trying to be a teacher. I did not go to school for this. I am not trained for it, but I am willing. And God can use willing people.
Some of the kids are eager to learn, others are completely disruptive because they have so much pent up energy. These children aren’t even allowed to go outside at the school per fear of them getting picked up by the police – and that is just at school. I can’t even imagine the stress they experience because they are living in secrecy 100% of the time.
Even though sometimes teaching is purely trying to control the classroom amidst the language barrier – other times my heart falls deeper in love with these children. I work one on one with multiple children, but one little girl specifically (whose name I won’t mention for her safety) makes my heart soar.
The way the school is set up, they have different education levels based on knowledge instead of age. This is because this is the only education these refugees are getting, and the system has to be flexible. We have children of all ages in different levels, which also makes the maturity level of the classroom vary extremely.
The little girl I work with the most, the one I am beaming over, is six years old and in the third level of classes. They moved her up because she was being disruptive in the lower level class per not being challenged enough. The repercussion of that is she now needs a little extra help to catch up with the other kids in class. She is brilliant, she just needs attention.
I was going over her math homework with her because she had gotten all of her problems wrong. We were working on simple addition, very basic skills – but she just wasn’t tracking it. I would ask her a question as simple as 2+2 and she would just yell out a number, any number.
So, I tried to get creative. I grabbed an abacus and started teaching her addition using the visual aid. She needed constant help with each question, but paid attention and kept trying.
The second time I practiced math with her, she started out on the abacus and then on her own switched to doing it in her head and/or on her fingers! I can’t explain the feeling got the moment she answered the first question right without the abacus. It was so precious to me. Then, after we practiced for a while she was actually confident enough to ask me to teach her subtraction! My heart leapt for joy at her progress, and her desire to learn.
I didn’t know that I could find so much pure joy in a setting like this. I honestly enjoy teaching her, and desire to see her continue to grow. I’m not just getting by, I am thriving in this environment. I love that she is having fun learning, and that she is actually asking me to give her more knowledge. I love that I feel like what I a. Doing is making a difference.
Her and I also spend some of our time together working on her vocabulary and reading in English. The Burmese refugee children don’t have a written language in their national tongue, so reading and writing is a constant struggle. She is starting to pick up more vocabulary, and the smile she gets on her face when she knows she spells a word right is priceless. We draw pictures to go along with each word, in order to make sure she actually understands what each word means. As I tell her “good job!” And high five her, you can see the pride sparkle in her eyes.
I know that back in America, the word refugee is thrown around a lot. I know that it is easy to clump this people group together. To see them solely as numbers and figures, instead of a individuals. I know, because I did it before the Race. Yet, working with multiple refugees in many different facets on the Race, has made me realize just how passionate I am for human rights. How passionate I am for equality. How passionately I am against discrimination and ignorance.
A refugee is a person. An illegal immigrant is a person. A homosexual is a person. A prostitute is a person. An orphan is a person, just as much as you and I are. All of these people groups are ALL of God’s children, and they are all worthy of love. Not only from God, but from His followers, from YOU.
We are called to serve. We are called to love. We are called as Christians to stand apart. I beg of you to open your eyes. If you are struggling with hate, resentment, racism, bitterness, or judgement of any kind towards any people group, please pray about it. Ask God to break your heart for the nations. Ask God to reveal His heart to you for that specific people group, or even that specific person. I promise you, that God does not look at that person you are judging with your same eyes. I promise you that you will find compassion when you start praying for the people you are struggling to love.
Ephesians 4:29-32 “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.”
I know that the topic of refugees can become quite heated, and people can become passionate about varying things. I am not here to have a debate or to condemn you, but simply to call up into your identity in Christ. I urge you to remember that you are called higher because you are Christians. You are called to love, and to be love.
What does that look like in these situations?
Do you need to hold your tongue?
Do you need to go out and serve?
Do you need to pray about the people group that offends you?
Do you need to forgive?
Whatever it is, I pray you go forth with a new courage and boldness, and in love free yourself from any emotion or action that is standing between you and compassion.
