Dear Friends,
One of our Responders sent this powerful report of one experience while serving the refugees arriving in Greece.
“MY BABIES, MY BABIES, I WANT MY BABIES!!!”
I haven’t had the words to form a coherent sentence let alone be able to tell her story or put it into words. For it was one that left my heart so heavy and so burdened. It left me feeling so powerless and so utterly helpless. She was a precious one. The one that I prayed for earlier that day and didn’t even realize it, before going in to do my day shift at the refugee camp that day.
“Lord, highlight and show me the one that you want me to love on today. Please reveal yourself and your love to them through me. I know that I can’t save the masses. But I can make a difference in at least one persons life, so please Lord, show me who that is…”
I worked day shift at Skala Sikiminea Refugee Camp that day. I loved working day shift because that’s when we encountered the biggest influx of refugees into our camp. Some days 250-500 refugees arrived at Sikiminea and anywhere from 1,000-1,500 on the island each day. I loved that our camp consisted primarily of Christian volunteers who come from all over the world and from all different mission organizations, working as one body, one unit to bring hope to the hopeless, love in the midst of hate, peace to those who ran from war, joy to those in sadness and despair.
I was holding a sweet beautiful refugee baby girl in my arms, while the parents settled down and got comfortable on the cots in our waiting tent until the buses arrived. I sat beside them with their child in my arms just smilingly at the child and praying for her and her family to encounter the love of Jesus Christ. They couldn’t speak English so all I could do was use the universal language of love. It doesn’t necessarily require words. And at this very moment just presence, a warm smile, and a welcoming spirit was all that it took to bring a smile on their faces and tears to their eyes. I prayed silently for them while showing the love of Jesus to this couple and their baby.
As I looked to the left I saw her, she caught my eye, a woman, a refugee, all alone, as she walked into the tent with no shoes on and no socks. Which I thought was odd. I had just sent 6 women, her included, and their children to the clothing tent to get dry pants, socks, and shoes… This group of refugees had a rough landing and arrived wet to our camp in freezing cold conditions. I knew with her coming back barefoot, we once again had run out of pants, socks, and shoes which unfortunately happened quite often due to so many horrible boat landings.
As this woman approached the cot that I was sitting on, she was frantically looking for something. I asked her are you ok? She shook her head no. “My bag, my bag?” She quickly found it under her jacket on the cot beside me. I could tell something wasn’t right. It was so much more than just her missing bag.
She was really upset, and sadness, fear, grief, hopelessness, and despair stared through her big, frantic, beautiful, brown eyes. I prayed silently, “Holy Spirit come, and reveal your love to her! Heal her broken heart and her wounded soul.” As she sat down beside me with a heavy spirit that could be sensed a mile away, she looked down at the baby in my arms began to weep.
I gently passed the baby back to its parents and then proceeded to wrap my arms around this beautiful, precious, weeping woman and as I did, I asked her her name.
“Nadiya,” was the reply. “Nadiya, where are you from?” “From Syria.” “Do you have family? Are you traveling alone?” She began to weep uncontrollably as she cried out, “My babies, my babies, I want my babies!”
At this point I was somewhat concerned and asked her where her babies were. I knew we were trained at orientation don’t ever separate families.
“In Syria,” was her reply as she proceeded to get out her phone and show me pictures of her 7 month old baby boy and her 2 year old beautiful little girl. As tears filled her eyes and mine too at this point she began to tell me her story.
She said that she was Syrian but her husband was from Afghanistan and that when the babies were born the papers were done up under the husbands name. That She couldn’t bring them with her because she didn’t have the right papers or documents.
I than asked her who her babies were staying with.
“With My husband in Syria,” was her reply.
Again tears began to stream down her cheeks as I held her tightly in my arms as she continued…
“There’s war. So much shooting. Explosions. Everywhere shooting. People dying. My dad was shot and killed in front of me. My brother too. I was scared I ran for cover. There was blood and bodies everywhere. I thought I would die too. My husband was shot 13 times. He was badly wounded and barely survived. He made me come here because I would be the one, more likely to survive the journey so that I could try to get help to get them out.”
As she was talking, one of the children playing not far from us had popped his balloon. Nadiya threw her hands over her head and ducked down as if she had heard gunshots and was now taking cover. PTSD all over again. I reassured her, “Nadiya it’s ok, it’s ok, it’s just a balloon. She sinks her head into my shoulder and begins to weep again.
As I held this precious woman and cried with her I felt so powerless to change her situation or help her in any way. So I did the only thing I knew to do and that was to pray. For God’s overwhelming comfort and peace to envelope her. For her to be reunited with her family. That she and her family would know Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. That God would heal her broken heart, her every hurt, pain, and sorrow and bring joy into her life once again.
I asked her, “What country do you want to go too?”
Again Her reply was, “My babies! My babies! I just want my babies.”
Nothing else in this world at that moment mattered to her except for being reunited with her babies. This mother had already been through so much. Seen so much suffering, pain, and death. She had lost loved ones, with no time to grieve them. And now she was torn away from family, her wounded husband and her two children. She was traveling all alone, not knowing where she was going, or if she would ever see her family again. Fear gripped. Sadness overtook her. Hopelessness surrounded her.
You know it does something to you. Holding a woman pouring out her heart sharing her life, fears, hurts, and pains. How do you console someone who’s been through so much. She changed me. My view on the crisis, my perspective on life, my priorities, my understanding of what the refugees were running from and going through. She made me realize that she was just one of so many other hundreds and thousands of refugees with similar stories. I was truly humbled, to be there at that very moment. My life’s motto had such a different meaning to it now. “bringing hope to the hopeless.” Was I really though?
We don’t let minors or single women travel alone. So I let the UNHCR know her situation. As they talked to her with translators and assured her that they would partner her with another family to travel with for her own safety. They also discussed her situation and she pleaded with them to help her get her family out. They said there was nothing they could do but when she registered at the next camp to let them know her situation and maybe they can help. As they were talking, there was another influx of refugees so I got up to go take my post.
Her story had gripped me so much, as I often tried to hold back the tears throughout the day. There was a moment that I just couldn’t do it anymore and had to go hide just so I could weep and talk to God.
As we were loading the buses to send the refugees on to the next camp. Nadiya sought me out, embraced me, and kissed me on each cheek. She said, “thank you, thank you!” And for the first time I saw her smile. My eyes welled up with tears and I was undone the rest of the day. She thanked me? For what? I did what seemed like absolutely nothing.
The Lord corrected my error in thinking and reminded me that I was the first point of contact of His love. That I loved and loved well. That my prayers moved mountains. That I did something, that it wasn’t for nothing. I cared, I loved, I made a difference in her life. That although I felt helpless and powerless that in my weakness that He was made strong.
Christ showed me that I wasn’t to carry her burden. He showed me that the compassion, the love I felt for the refugees and for Nadiya, and the desire to help them, and save them was only a little glimpse of His heart that He had placed in mine.
That He loved them so much more then I ever could and that I was His precious vessel of relaying that love in earthly form. That they were like sheep and lost without a shepherd. He showed me that it was Christ in me the hope of glory to them! And to allow Him to work through me to love them into His Kingdom!!!! I was not powerless. My love in you moves mountains!!!
I continue to pray for Nadiya and her journey. I don’t know what was happened to her or where she is. But I pray that she would continue to encounter the love of Jesus wherever she goes. That she would reunited with her family once again. Won’t you help me pray for her?You too can make a difference in her life through your prayers.
This story illustrates the amazing hope Christ brings to anyone who is lost and hurting. Join with us to continue praying for the thousands of refugees arriving in Greece, who need Jesus more than anything. Help us minister Christ’s love while we provide basic needs to them.
If you’ve not trained with us, take this opportunity to register for an upcoming training event. If you’ve trained but never deployed with us, don’t wait any longer!
Deploy to Greece | Spring 2016
Reaching the harvest in crisis,
Sean Malone