I was sitting at a table with Anna*, a 14-year-old girl I met during our morning ministry program. She asked me how long our team will be in Honduras and when we will return home. I explained to Anna that we are traveling for 11 months, so we won’t go home until the end of June. She asked if we get to see our families for Christmas, and I told her we will celebrate Christmas in Malawi with each other – our World Race family.
At this point, I expected Anna to be surprised. I receive these kinds of questions a lot. You’re gone for how long? When will you see your family again? Where will you be during the holidays? Typically, people’s reactions are a little shocked, and then they talk about sacrifice for the Gospel and share a story about someone they know who left home to talk about Jesus in another country. The conversations are good; they’re just often the same.
Anna’s reaction wasn’t the same. She took the conversation in a different direction. After hearing that we will not celebrate Christmas with our families, Anna told me that there are a lot of people from her neighborhood that will not celebrate Christmas with their families, either. I asked why that is, and she simply stated, “they are at the border.”
Anna went on to explain that many of her neighbors have family members trying to go to the United States, but they get caught at the border. Sometimes they are stuck there for a long time, sometimes they get sent back home, and very rarely do they make it into the United States of America.
Anna spoke so matter-of-factly. It was as if I showed her a picture of my dog, and she said, “oh, I have a dog, too! Here’s my picture.” She did not have an agenda when she spoke, nor was she speaking with much emotion. She just found a way to continue the conversation by relating to what I said.
It struck me, the way Anna spoke so simply about a topic so complicated. To her, it’s not complicated. It’s not political or debate-worthy. It’s just part of the life she lives. One day, the neighbor she grew up with was gone. A few months later, her neighbor was back. One day, her friend’s dad left to try to find a new home for his family in the United States. They haven’t seen him since.
I walked away from the conversation with a heavy heart. I hadn’t expected it to happen. I only met Anna the day before. I showed up to our program expecting to narrate a Bible skit while my team acted it out. I expected that we would all sing some songs – Padre Abraham; Abre mis Ojos; Cabeza, Hombros, Rodillas, Pies. I expected that we would play Pato, Pato, Ganzo and pass out food to the kiddos and smile as we walked home with tiny voices shouting “adios” behind us.
I did not expect for my young friend to share this part of her reality with me. I did not expect to walk away unable to hear the tiny voices because I could only hear Anna’s words ringing in my ears.
I’ve spoken with migrants and families of migrants before. With migrants stuck at the border, with families waiting to find out if they’ll see their loved ones again, with entire families who have recently been able to make their new home in the states. It’s something that makes a part of me deep within come alive with fierce passion. It’s one that I feel in my core. It moves me to use my words more deliberately and fervently than almost anything else I choose to speak about. Truthfully, it makes me want to fight; fight for family unity, fight for celebration of diversity, fight for justice.
When Anna started sharing this part of her life with me, I wanted to fight for her. I wanted to fight for her community, for separated families here, for separated families in the U.S., for separated families around the world, for lost souls separated from their Creator.
I wanted to fight, but I didn’t know how. I asked Father what to do – how to fight this fight that is so much bigger than me. He reminded me that I get to play a part in his plan and that it doesn’t all rest on my shoulders, but his. He reminded me that Holy Spirt lives in me, and he gives me the power and authority to bring Kingdom to earth. He reminded me of Revelation 12:11, which says “They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony…”
I know that there will be a day when every nation, tribe, people, and language will stand united before the throne (Rev. 7:9). My heart aches every time I realize how much our earth fails to resemble that day. My heart eagerly and confidently awaits that day which is sure to come. The yearning for heavenly unity that God has planted in my heart moves me to use the word of my testimony to make each day look a bit more like Kingdom. I hope and pray that my words – and Anna’s – move you to do the same.
*Name changed to protect confidentiality
