The best care-givers

I woke up to a WhatsApp text this morning. It was from a Somali refugee. She wanted to know if my family was okay. She knows the Covid-19 virus is loose in America. She said she is praying for us.

I also spoke with a Turkana pastor in Kakuma this morning. He too wanted me to know that he was concerned and praying for us.

Those who have suffered are often the best care givers. They know uncertainty and loss.

How beautiful to start my day with their kind words of encouragement.

Tough questions

What does refugee ministry look like in midst of the Covid-19 pandemic? What does it look like to help refugees stuck in distant camps? Or the asylum seekers in the US we are assisting with shelter? Or the asylum seekers in Athens who recently lost the support of international humanitarian agencies? Or the asylum seekers (minors) living in group shelters in northern France? Or the resettled refugees trying to rebuild their lives in US cities but who are facing the possibility of losing their entry level jobs to quarantine?

These are questions that our IAFR team is wrestling with in this time of uncertainty.

I’m proud of how our team is leaning into this, determined to find creative ways to support our forcibly displaced friends. I’ll be writing more about that soon.

In the meantime, I hope that you are healthy and safe. May God provide our daily bread.


Click here to see the email I sent out to our IAFR email list earlier today.

Disruption

Lockdown. It’s not been a word I’ve heard or used much over the years. Now it is a daily news staple as the world brought to a near standstill by the microscopic corona virus, Covid-19.

As I spent many hours in the Amsterdam airport and later in the petri dish of O’Hare a week ago today, I’ve put myself in voluntary-isolation for two weeks. Given the state is likely to put us all in lockdown in the near future, I don’t expect much will change for me next Sunday.

The number of US states in lockdown is increasing, slowly for now. But they include Illinois, where IAFR Vice President, Tim Barnes, lives. My home state of Minnesota is not yet in full lockdown, but I’m betting that it will be within a week or two. For now, we are free to roam, although restaurants, bars, stadiums, churches, etc. are all closed.

I moved my office into my home last week. I’ve cancelled trips to Seattle and Bangkok that we’re planned for this month. I’m fairly certain other travel for the first 1/2 of the year will also fail to materialize.

We’ve got missionaries in lockdown in Athens, France and Vienna. Our Director of Training had to cancel plans to bring training to Jakarta this month. Plans of a couple IAFR teammates to visit Dzaleka refugee camp (Malawi) in May are also up in the air.

Thanks to the Internet, I’m in regular contact with IAFR teammates and with our refugee partners in Kakuma. I appreciate how everyone is making the best of the situation and seeking ways to encourage and support the most vulnerable people in their orbit.

But like you, I’m concerned about those who are sick and unable to get tested or treated. I’m concerned about those without medical insurance and those with high deductibles. I’m concerned about the welfare of those at the front end of this crisis – from healthcare providers to UPS drivers. I’m concerned for those who’ve suddenly found themselves out of work – people in the hospitality business and those in the entertainment industry. I’m concerned for those who’s retirement savings have gone up in smoke as the stock market is in a tailspin. I’m concerned about refugees and asylum seekers who are often stuck in crowded camps, living in dependence on the global community for water, food, and even soap – at a time when the world seems happy to shut them out and ignore their suffering.

I’m concerned that the worst is yet to come.

Refugee prayers

I’m struck by how some of my refugee friends in Kenya are checking in with me (usually via WhatsApp) to be sure I get home safely.

A Muslim mother in Kakuma says she is praying for my safe arrival. A Congolese asylum seeker in Nairobi is doing the same. Both of these friends are up to their eyeballs in uncertainty and suffering. Still, they are quick to care for others – even me.

They’ve experienced life in such a way as to not take safe travels for granted.

May God’s blessing be upon them.

Covid-19 fever

Above: Visiting refugee churches in Kalobeyei refugee settlement earlier in the week – part of the Kakuma refugee protection system in remote northwestern Kenya.

I guess I just got lucky. I’m sitting in a more empty than usual airport lounge in Amsterdam, slowly making my way home after a great visit to Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya (learn more).

Covid-19 fever has hit the world with gusto. The US government put a travel ban into effect at midnight. Only US citizens and residents can fly from Europe to the US now.

While I was en route to the Nairobi airport, Delta sent me a text. My flight from Amsterdam to Minneapolis was cancelled. Thankfully, Delta worked out an alternative flight plan for me after a few uncertain hours. I’m now flying home via Chicago.

I’ve been told that those of us transiting Europe are to self-quarantine for 2 weeks upon arrival in the US.

My plans to meet with a group of churches in Seattle this month have been cancelled, as has my planned trip to Bangkok at the end of the month. I’m doubtful my plans to visit our ministries in France and Austria in early May will come to pass. I won’t be surprised if my plans to fly to Geneva in June for UNHCR NGO consultations will be halted as well.

My wife works at a senior living campus and said that we might also need to keep our distance from each other for 14 days after I return. The elderly are especially vulnerable to the virus. I’m seriously tempted to pitch a tent in the northwoods – except it’s still too cold to be much fun.

I can’t help but look around me and wonder how Covid-19 fever is impacting others.

Maximum flexibility

My March travel plans include Kenya (assessed as the 6th highest risk city in Africa for a Covid-19 outbreak), Seattle (where Covid-19 claimed its first US casualty) and Bangkok, the highest risk city outside of China for an outbreak.

My plans to go to Kenya (Kakuma refugee camp) are still on. I’m still planning on Seattle too. Bangkok is likely going to be cancelled – Delta has already cancelled flights from Minneapolis to Seoul (through which I would need to fly to get to Bangkok).

Those who know me know one of my creeds is, “maximum flexibility!” It’s taking on a whole new meeting in March.

Travel season

It’s been rather refreshing to have been in the US since mid-November. But the highway is calling again. I’m on the edge of travel season again.

I’ll visit Kenya, Thailand, Seattle, France and Austria in March, April and May. I look forward to making a long overdue visit to my son in NYC somewhere in the middle of the other trips.

I’m thankful for the privilege of seeking the welfare of forcibly displaced people internationally – and for the remarkable support of my wife, Donna, that makes it possible.

Answering Why?

I spent some time last week trying to honestly and concisely answer the question, “Why do we do what we do?” My initial answer is below. I’m in the process of running this by board members, colleagues and a theologian for further input. So far, it seems to deeply resonate with our team. It’s both beautiful and powerful to put words on deeply held convictions.

Why do we what do what we do?

Our mission flows out of the heart of our good and loving Creator and our relationship with Jesus Christ.

The Bible reveals that God hears, sees and cares for all humankind – with Jesus being the ultimate revelation as his incarnation, life, sacrifice and death demonstrate just how far God’s love will go to rescue us from evil, restore us to Himself and bring about the renewal of all things.

The Holy Spirit pours God’s love into our hearts, compelling us to seek justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God. Fueled by God’s love and empowered by his Holy Spirit, we are compelled to help people survive and recover from forced displacement.

We serve with hope even in the midst of sorrow and suffering. For by Jesus’ resurrection and promised return, we know that love and life get the final word rather than evil and death. We have this hope not only in this life, but in the life to come. Jesus has risen and so will we.

As we serve, we pray and long for the time when all things will be made new and life and peace will fill the earth – and there will be no more refugees.

Stuck in limbo

This is a Facebook conversation I had today with a man who is running for his life and stuck in the limbo of an international airport for 25 days and counting. How he found IAFR on Facebook I may never know. I’ve censored references to places that might put him in danger. But I think you will still understand the basic situation.

This isn’t theoretical. He’s a real human being in fear with his back against the wall. Perhaps you can hear the trace of relief in his final words. It matters to feel seen and heard by someone who cares. Perhaps it matters most when there is no way out.

I’m thankful I can let him know that he and his suffering are not unknown today. And just maybe, God will answer our prayers for him and lead him to a safe place where he can clean up and rest his weary mind, body and soul.

Asia calling

In the past couple of weeks, we have received serious invitations to help refugee related ministries in Asia – including a group of pastors in Myanmar, a network of churches in Jakarta, and a mission serving refugees in Bangkok.

We sense God is somehow in this and are praying that he will show us our part in what he is doing in the region.

I’m praying that God leads us to people and financial partners that will make it possible to extend our work into this region.

Stay tuned.