Today I had a rather surreal experience while reading the
newspaper on the train. There was
an article about a chartered flight full of refugees who were voluntarily
returning to their homeland. I
stopped in the middle of my reading, knowing that I knew two of the 100
passengers on that plane. I have
heard about and read about the voluntary repatriation program here for many
years already. But I had never
known anyone who actually took the flight home. And back to the land of XXX, where the fighting and violence
that we see on the evening news is the day to day reality on the street.
My friend Sarah.
Her son Nick.
We went out for coffee one afternoon and that's when she opened
up and told me her story. How when
her husband had been kidnapped and they thought that he was already dead, she
looked up their home and fled with her two children and son in law. They took a truck ride. Then on foot.
Then a boat trip. Then walked again for three days before finally arriving in
my neighborhood. I still remember
the first time I met her teenage son.
It was last summer 2015 during one of our afternoon kids' clubs. He had such a vibrant smile, and spoke
English very well, which totally worked for us because no one on our ministry
team that day was speaking Arabic.
I remember thinking what a nice young kid, so helpful with translating
and just hanging out with the little kids. Imagine how much fun it was to connect the dots and realize
who his mom was when we started our weekly women's clubs in the fall.
Sarah quickly became one of my dearest friends. Perhaps it's
because we are similar in age.
Perhaps it's her gentle spirit.
Her warm smile was always a welcome sight as we would arrive on a
Thursday afternoon to visit with the women. When we started the calendar project in 2016 (where the
women decorate twelve monthly templates to a make a calendar so that they can
learn the months of the years, days of the week and their numbers), I knew that
we would have to find another project for Sarah. She was already on the list to
be on that plane to return home, and so learning Januari tot en met December,,
maandag tot en met vrijdag wasn't an important priority. I found a small book that we decorated
together as a memory book, and filled it with photos of her new friends here in
Belgium....my photo was included in the mix.
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| The women that God has brought into my world... |
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| Embracing diversity ~ it has to be a part of our lives! |
We often shed tears together with the women here, as we develop
relationships of trust that then allows them to open up and share details of
their life and faith journeys. Sarah came one afternoon and was just bursting
with joy. She had received a phone
call from XXX...her husband was alive!
We squealed with delight as we hugged and kissed each other. God had heard our prayers! But then
came the pronouncement: "I'm going home, Barbara, to find my
husband". No surprise there,
in the sense that I have seen her radiant face when she talks about her husband
or when she shows me all the photos from earlier days when life was good in
their world. I realized then in
that moment that a person will go to great lengths to be reunited with the one
they love.
So I prayed for Sarah and Nick today. I prayed for their safe passage back to XXX. I prayed for a
sweet and tender reunion with husband and father. I prayed for a way out of their uncertain future. And I thanked God for the gift of
friendship that goes beyond cultural, religious and language barriers.
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| Many colors, many faces, all needing a Savior ~ |
