Working with refugees

This last week Mike and I have had the privilege to serve in refugee ministries with HM. On Monday nights we serve a “love meal” to the homeless and refugees. The number of people attending this dinner has increased significantly since we were here in 2006. The number of families, women and children is eye opening and heartbreaking. The people seem desperate for food as they reach out to receive the soup or other dish that’s been prepared for them. Looking at the faces of the littlest kids, like one year olds, breaks my heart. Their looks of desperation and despair make me think, “God, I’ve never been hungry.” How is that depending where one is born, one either has a life of abundance and freedom or of squalor and oppression? The inequities of the situations are hard to justify. And I wonder why? Why did I never have to have someone else provide food and clothes and diapers for our children? Why were we always able to live in a nice warm house with bathrooms and a kitchen? Why did I grow up experiencing the best of freedom-to work, to go to school, a home and a family etc? Why are so many people without these basic things?

On Tuesdays, the hall is now open to women and children for showers and to do their laundry (the men come on Mondays). Even though we try to make it as nice as possible, a stranger never had to tell me to hurry up my shower nor did I ever have to ask for feminine hygiene products from a stranger. I never squatted to nurse my babies, nor had to sit in a hallway for most of the afternoon and wait for my clothes to dry outside. The boredom and monotony of it were depressing for me. The children range in age from toddlers to teenagers. It’s hard to watch the face of a teen as her mom asks me if I know of any work for her husband. They have six children and no work. I am like a deer in the headlights. I am speechless. I can’t even begin to understand what this feels like, and I am ashamed that I can’t even begin to understand her situation. The teenage girl seems bright and somewhat embarrassed of the situation and I think of teens in the US with so much who are rude and just demand more from their parents. I look at the faces of the women and they look tired, hopeless. I can’t communicate well with them other than to smile. So I try to treat them with respect, share smiles with them, change their laundry, clean up after them in the showers. I know Jesus is the peace and hope they need but how do I share this with them? I cannot rescue them, I cannot give them work. I cannot financially support them or give them housing. It’s overwhelming to me and yet I just do what I can at that time.

Thank you for helping us help others in the name of Christ. Too often we Americans want to see solutions; we can usually fix things quickly and efficiently. But here we are left to just love the best we can, for the short time we have contact with these people. Please pray for the needs of these refugees and the strangers and aliens among you. They are there if we just open our eyes beyond our own needs to see those around us. Look them in the eyes, let them know you see them and that you care. The answer is not up to us, just the responsibility to help when we are shown the opportunity to do so.

Thanks for letting me share my heart with you.