Refuge

This month my squad and I are in Ecuador enjoying the equator and the chilly days here at 10,000 feet. We’ve been blessed with a comfy host home complete with couches and warm(ish) showers – this is world race luxury:). The way our lives are scheduled on the race allows for us to sometimes go on different adventures in the places we’re in or towns nearby after a week of ministry. I want to share about my trip last weekend and the way God used time “outside of ministry” to wreck my heart and reveal more of His. 

Last weekend some of my squadmates and I went to a town called Banos de Agua Santa which is one of the prettiest mountain towns I’ve ever seen. It’s close to Cotopaxi, has so many waterfalls, has natural hot springs from the nearby volcanos, and really is just a dream. Taking space from ministry is important and helpful to sustain the energy needed for a full year of traveling and diving into different kinds of service – it also allows us to see more of the countries we’re living in and enjoy God’s creation. My friends and I spent our day wandering around gardens and waterfalls and just taking in the stunning views of the mountains. It was a sweet day, and it was in this setting that we met two families of Venezuelan refugees walking to Peru. 

My friend Kayla met the oldest boy in the morning when he came into our coffee shop asking for money. When we ran into him again on our way to dinner we decided to buy a big box of chicken and eat dinner with their family. What started out as one family of a mom and her two boys turned into two families with 9 people. We learned that the first family had left Venezuela a month and a half ago and were  walking to Lima Peru. The mom had recently injured her foot and they had been in Banos for several days trying to get enough money to buy bus tickets so she wouldn’t have to walk. The oldest of the kids is 15, the youngest is 5. 

We sat down and passed out the food and instantly my lap was filled with little girls chattering away and cuddling up to keep warm. We spent the evening with them getting to hear pieces of their story, answering the boys questions about airplanes, and playing with the girls. They’re all so incredibly sweet and had the cutest freckles. After awhile it started to rain and we decided it was time to head home and to let them look for shelter from the rain for the night. We said our goodbyes, and all of a sudden my heart broke.

I’ve studied refugees in a lot of my classes for my major, I even took a course specifically on refugees (it was one of my favorites). I’ve written papers, read books and essays of their journeys and experiences, I’ve studied refugee camps and all the difficulties and potential obstacles they face to finding refuge, I’ve met refugees who have been resettled and have celebrated their blessings. Intellectually I knew what their lives looked like and how little they have – and then I held a 5 year old girl whose family had one backpack to share and wore a thin sweatshirt in the mountains of Ecuador and I couldn’t help but feel helpless and lost. I walked home and cried and wanted to yell at God. I couldn’t stop wondering what the last straw was that forced them out of their home. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the potential hardships and evil they could encounter on their walk to Peru. I couldn’t help but wonder if they would even be accepted into the country, if they’d be able to find their family, if they would ever have the beautiful story of refuge and new beginnings. I wanted to pick up all the pieces, to give them a home, to do something to make it all better. I cried and asked God how He could let that happen, why He wasn’t providing for them – as usual He took my tears and anger and pain and held me. He told me that He was providing, that He allowed me and my friends to be part of that provision that night. He told me I wasn’t responsible to fix it all for them, I was only responsible to answer Him and to love the people right in front of me in each moment. 

This month I’ve been hitting the hard reality that I can’t actually be there to fix everything for everyone. My incredibly wise squad mentor taught me a few days before I went to Banos about how even Jesus didn’t solve every problem for every person He ever encountered. In John chapter 5 Jesus goes to the pool of Bethesda and heals only one man in the midst of many. He is surrounded by people who are sick and injured, yet the Father tells Him to heal just the one put in front of Him. This passage is a little tough – sometimes it’s hard to rectify that God doesn’t just make everything better at once. I don’t know why God does the things He does, but I do know that God says He wants to partner with us in the work of redeeming this world. If Jesus had just healed all the surface level need of this world, would we ever turn to Him? If He had healed everyone, what work would there be for us to partner with God in? This passage also brings a lot of comfort to me and my heart that wants to scoop up the whole worlds problems and make them better. My job is only to listen to the Father and partner with Him to provide for the people He has put in front of me. He is their salvation. He is their protector. He is the God who sees, provides, and redeems. I am His daughter. I get to walk by His side and use all He’s given me to support His other children – but I get to hand the responsibility over and trust He will be faithful and who He says He is. 

There’s a quote from a Jewish Rabbi that I found years ago that the Holy Spirit reminded me of that night in Banos. It says: “Do not be daunted by the enormity of the worlds grief. Do justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.” There is a lot of brokenness and pain in our world. There’s a lot of people in need and a lot of things they need help with. There are a lot of refugees, a lot of five year olds forced out of their homeland in search of a safer life. My heart still breaks knowing I can’t be there for each of them, but I got to hug one. I got to pray for one. I got to hold El Shaddai’s hand and partner with Him to provide for her and her family that night. I got to feel His heart that also breaks for the brokenness that leads people to flee, and I got to trust He would take care of them far better than I could. 

Abba,

Thank you for being a God who has always cared for exiles. For being the provider who led your people through the wilderness to a better land and sustained them for 40 years. I pray your presence and blessing over Venezuela and the refugees flowing out. I pray your presence and blessing over all displaced people. I thank you that you have a plan of redemption for this world, that You have a home waiting for all the millions of people displaced from their homes right now. Thank you for allowing me to be part of the way You provide for Your people. Please show me more of how I can love and support your children.