Many times in the past few months I’ve found myself thinking, “Wait, this is my life.This is really my life.”
This week has been particularly surreal.
Saturday morning I experienced the sunrise from my bed in Bogota, Colombia. Saturday evening I experienced the sunset from my plane ride over the Atlantic Ocean. Sunday morning I experienced the sunrise from an airport bus in Madrid, Spain. Sunday night I experienced the sunset from my plane ride to Thessaloniki, Greece from Istanbul, Turkey. Monday morning I experienced the sunrise from a sidewalk in Athens, Greece while waiting on ferry tickets. Monday evening I experienced the sunrise on a ferry from Athens to Lesvos. How crazy is that?
Monday I spent the day in Athens, Greece. I visited the Acropolis. What?!
It was amazing! We stood on the Areopagus and read Acts 17. This the the exact place where Paul stood to defend Christ and the resurrection.
How is this my life?
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Similarly, I have been sitting with the thought that the refugees must have been thinking for years, “Wait, this is my life.This is really my life.” Except it is a statement of despair instead of hope and wonder.
Today I visited the waterfront that is only 4 miles across open water away from Turkey. I understood how the seeming hope of a land you can easily see can be such a powerful force to cause a family to cross open sea.
The coast of Lesvos is on the left. The Turkish coast is across the back to the right. There are only 4 miles or 6 kilometers of water that separate two worlds.
As I was walking along the coast I found a “flotation device”. Actually it was an inner tube you blow up to use in the pool, you know, those kinds that have this message printed on the side: This is not a flotation device.
This is part of the stretch of water where the refugees come over. This was used to “help” keep someone “safe” as they crossed the water. I was disgusted. I was angry. What kind of hell do you have to be running from to willingly use a pool floatie to cross open sea?
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Then this afternoon we visited the life jacket graveyard. I still don’t know what to do with what I saw. I am going to use mostly pictures and let you see for yourself. Please, don’t think you fully understand just because you see these photos.
Here is the panorama to try to give you some scope of the place. Note: This place has been cleaned out 3 or 4 times already.
Most of all the life jackets and boats have been dumped here so that they have a place to go. Lesvos is a small island that doesn’t have a great ability to dispose of all of this. It gets dumped in the countryside until something can be figured out to get rid of it all.
In the midst of this field of beauty is a massive pile of pain. As flowers grow and the hillside welcomes spring, the hollows are filled with hundreds of thousands of defective life vests.
Most of these life vests are fake. Some are even filled with materials that sink when they get wet. Others barely have enough foam in them to qualify as a jet ski life vest. (Jet ski life vests are only meant to keep you afloat for 2-3 minutes until the boat can circle and pick you up.) Others still are pool toys that were never meant or designed for proper flotation. It just made me angry. I was told that many of the refugees paid over 100 euros for their life vests, life vests that actually bring death.
I ripped open this vest and a few others. They were filled with craft foam. The foam you buy at the store to make your solar system project in 2nd grade is what was supposed to save this person’s life. I kept ripping vests open looking for ONE that was good. I couldn’t find it.
During our orientation one of the leaders asked us, “How bad does life on the land have to be in order for 4 miles of open sea in a rubber dinghy seems safer than that land?”
That has been sitting with me the past few days. These photos are a powerful example of the intense desperation that must have been the motivating force for the refugees.
All of the vests and devices for the kids made me weep. I can’t imagine being in a place where putting your child in a pool toy to make a trip across open sea is the best choice. I don’t think I will ever be able to understand that level of desperation. I don’t want to be able to. I do want to love these precious people who have so so well.
This is the photo that speaks my heart best. Hang with me a minute to understand why.
Each of the life jackets represent one of the refugees 500,000 of whom came to Lesvos last year. Each refugee has a story of pain and fear. Each refugee has been treated worse than garbage.
Here are the life jackets piled in among the trash. This is how many people have treated the people who wore these jackets.
My heart is that these same people will know they are safe and loved. I want to be a part of helping that become a reality with them. My heart is to love well and create safe spaces. My heart is to take those who have been thrown into the trash and show them the treasures they are.
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Please be in prayer for myself, my team, and my squad as we do hard work this month.
