Feeling used

It was “open mic Sunday” at our church today. So I braced myself for the worst before heading inside.

Pastor Jenna invited people to share a way that God showed up in their lives this past year. A beautiful series of stories surfaced as brave souls raised their hands.

A sister in our church shared how hard it has been to re-enter life in the US after several years of ministry in South Africa. She then said God showed up this year when we met during our annual church retreat.

She recounted telling Donna and I about her struggle. Apparently we responded by saying that “it can be tough when everyone here is sure that it is great to be back“. That was it – the words she needed to hear at that time. She felt seen and understood.

That was a significant God moment for her this year. And neither Donna or I had a clue just how much that simple encounter meant to her until today.

I have to confess, it feels good to be used of God in someone’s life.

I wonder how often God uses you and me like that – without our ever knowing? I hope and pray it is often.

Justice, compassion and sacrifice

Justice without love is hatred by another name. Dressing hatred in the mental trappings of justice leaves us feeling both right and powerful. This renders it toxic.

Compassion without justice is corruption. Clothing corruption in robes of compassion leaves us feeling both good and loving. Yet it is poisonous.

Words are powerful. A slight twist in meaning can lead to violence and death at the hands of people convinced they ride a white stallion.

When justice and mercy complete one another they beget sacrifice not attack.

—–

Father in heaven, let your justice and compassion flow into our hearts and through our lives. Let your kingdom come and your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.

Place

Falingi (above with flag in hand) became an American today along with 731 other people from 81 different countries of origin.

This is a big deal, because Falingi has been a refugee for most of his life. Unchecked violence made his homeland uninhabitable. As he was without parents, his uncle took him into his family. I met them over 10 years ago in Dzaleka refugee camp in Malawi – among the world’s poorest nations.

Dzaleka was a political prison before it was turned into a refugee camp in 1994 (in response to a wave of refugees fleeing genocide in Rwanda). Life is hard in Dzaleka.

Above: Dzaleka refugee camp. There are 40,000 Falingis in Dzaleka today.

This is why refugee resettlement to countries like the USA is so important. It offers people like Falingi a chance to regain place in the world and rebuild his life.

It is a travesty that the US has slashed refugee resettlement numbers from an average of 75,000/year to just 18,000 this year.

I spoke with several of the new US citizens today. They were so happy and so proud. Like Falingi, they want to work hard and be a net contributor to society.

In there eyes I saw an America that gave me hope and inspiration.

Death on the highway

My heart is heavy. I received tragic news this week from a pastor/friend in Kakuma, Kenya. A soccer game in the refugee camp went wrong. Ethnic fighting broke out leaving six refugees dead.

Kakuma is around 60 miles from the border of Kenya and South Sudan. Years of ethnic violence plagues South Sudan. It is no surprise that such outbursts would happen in the camp that is host to tribes that are at war with each other just over the border.

Hopelessness doesn’t help. Many of our friends in Kakuma have been there for decades with no hope of ever leaving. Yet as refugee camps are temporary by definition, neither can they stay forever. The resulting emotional stress is impossible for people like you and I to comprehend – unless you’ve experienced it firsthand yourself.

Add to the stress of having no place in the world, insufficient food rations, restrictions on movement, rationed water, hostile climate, overcrowded schools, etc. and it is a wonder that more such violence doesn’t occur.

May God use the refugee church in Kakuma to help bring reconciliation and restore peace and safety to the camp. Amen.

Kakuma refugee camp visit

Above: Kids hanging out together after school in Kakuma refugee camp
Above: Taking a break during a day-seminar with refugee pastors at KISOM
Above: Refugee women’s ministry conference (2 days) at KISOM
Above: A refugee church in Kalobeyei refugee settlement. IAFR has provided 10 churches here with metal roofing materials this year (including this one).
Above: This is our 4th attempt at a borehole intended to bring clean water to the IDP camp outside of Kakuma town. An estimate 4,500 men, women and children are in desperate need of water. Our first attempt failed to strike water. The second attempt found water, but the borehole quickly collapsed and became unusable. The third attempt hit an impenetrable rock shield about 30m down and was abandoned. This borehole was drilled by the county government a few years ago. It was then capped and abandoned as they had no funds to pipe the water. We are now testing the water to be sure it is fit for human consumption. If it is, we are negotiating with the county to pipe this water to the IDP. If all goes well, they could have water by next March.
Above: Brothers stand outside of what served as their “house” for the past 10 years. IAFR provided their family with a metal shelter (behind them) as their new home earlier this year. One of the boys commented: “The rains this week did not fall on us in our new home like they did in our old home.” May God bless them and their new shelter!

Dignity and hope

You guys are all about restoring dignity and hope to people.”

That’s what a professional consultant and marketer told me after spending six hours together with him and a handful of friends last weekend. They had come to hear about the ministry of IAFR. After a 30-45 minute overview, they pummeled us with questions about refugee realities and what the work looks like on the ground. It was so encouraging.

It was clear the consultant/marketing guy was running all we said through his filters as he tried to identify IAFR’s unique contribution to the world of refugee response. And I think he nailed it.

Human dignity and hope are no small thing,
just ask someone who has lost them.

He also offered to help us sharpen our communication about the mission and impact of IAFR. I look forward to taking him up on it.