Refugee


Stepped out the plane and i was bombarded by the stench and endless mass of people stretched before me. As i walked through the relentless press of bodies i began to see the injuries and the pain was everywhere. Children weeping quietly, orphaned and alone, no mother, no father. The elderly, with vacant faces and limbs like twigs too tired to stretch out and plead for assistance. Possibly the worst for me was the capable, the seemingly healthy which walked aimlessly and with absolutely no conviction or recollection of where they came from or where they were going. The first minutes stretched on for hours, hours turned into days, days, months...and so it went. Constantly surrounded by pain, suffering and anger.

Some, fortunate enough to receive some temporal gain were busying themselves protecting it and making small walls and barricades however they could, as if those partitions could keep out the loneliness and suffering. Hoarding what little they had, thinking 'if only i can keep it a little longer'. Some, who were never satiated and continually craved more, would sacrifice anything to gain just a portion, yet still never content.

Some ran to the edges. Trying to escape what they either did not understand or block out what they knew only too well. Others tried comedy and laughed off the indignities of life and the aching they felt.

The children, not knowing anything different wallowed in their filth and soaked up any ounce of compassion a passing stranger may give them. The old died daily, some quietly in fear of what lies next while others convinced themselves this was all there is so why bother holding on.

And people wandered by, they stumbled or ran as fast as they could, thinking they could escape the reality. They were trapped and didn't even know it. They were refugees with no seeming way to get home.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Truth be told, this mass was not in a refugee camp although surely we could find them. Nor was this an account of the homeless in some God-forsaken land. This is a picture of what i saw one day as i heard a dear friend speak of her great humanitarian work. I say great, because surely she has accomplished great things and saved many lives. What kept tugging at my heart, finally bringing me to my knees was that most everyone around me was hurting still. In this world we call home it is inevitable that we will suffer and someday die and no matter what physical improvement or cure to what ails us physically we are deeply hurting people. One way or another physical death is our destiny. So why prolong it? What good is it to live a longer life or amass huge wealth only to find in the end we can hold nothing and we are all destined to leave.

You see i was reminded that we are refugees here. We are sojourners, travelers, only temporarily passing through this world of pain and suffering. Don't get me wrong, there is joy and if you look closely and get your head on straight and renew your mind you can see and feel it all around you but in the same breath we may pass and you may feel my pain. I may encounter your loss and restlessness.

Whether you are like one of the children lost and alone or like the elderly too tired to reach out any more, or even one of the capable running, ever running and chasing 'success' and 'security', for one instant i feel you. But better still by far is that God feels you. He has felt you from the creation of the world. He knows you and wants to give you hope of where you are going and where you are from and who you are. This is the plan He had in mind.

Stop with the walls, stop the running, let Him meet you and lift you up out of your own suffering and filth. You don't have to live that way anymore.

We may be refugees but we are not homeless, poor and we are very loved.