And so.. I went to Greece..

“What do you think about the refugee crisis? Do you think we should open our borders to them?”

                I had been in many many situations where this was being discussed. Some thought it was too dangerous to let them in. “ISIS is clever, they will send operatives in disguised as refugees.” Some argued that it was our Christian duty and quoted Matthew 25. Some wonder why they can’t go back to where they came from, since they aren’t traveling legally. Whenever my opinion was asked, I always struggled with what to say. I could see the main points from both sides. I couldn’t figure out how I felt definitively one way or the other. I just knew that either way, there were human beings that needed help. So I decided that the only thing for me to do was to go.

So I went to Greece.

                  I don’t know what I was expecting when I got to Greece but what I was met with was definitely not it. I will be the first to say that I have always been intimidated by the Muslim culture. But after the first day, I didn’t see Muslims. I saw mothers, fathers, brothers, children and family. I drank countless cups of tea with the women. I spent hours listening to stories of heartbreak, pain and death spoken through tears in broken English or the kindness of refugee friends who could translate. Through that, I came to know the truth of this statement. “You have to understand, no one puts their children in a boat unless the water is safer than the land.”-Warsaw Shire.

                  I don’t think that there was a single part of my heart that wasn’t completely changed by the things that I saw, heard and felt during my month at the Moria refugee camp. I saw fathers forced to rely completely on an unseen hand to feed and provide for their families and my independent pride was crushed. I saw mothers sitting with nothing to do, no houses to clean or food to cook and I joined in their feeling of uselessness. I heard countless stories of the loss of life and I reevaluated the far reaching consequences my actions have. I looked into the emotionless eyes of the littlest children, children who should be bubbly and full of mischief and personality and was thankful for my enchanted childhood. I saw pictures of desolation, where my friends houses used to stand, on street corners where nothing resembling houses now stand. I talked to a doctor who isn’t sure he’ll ever get to practice again. I talked with a poet who is famous in his country, yet here, feels that his voice is not heard. I saw rocks being thrown by children with racism pounded into their heads all their lives at other children in the same situations as them. I saw scars, the self inflicted and the unwanted. I saw people laying on the floor unable to breathe well or function because of immobilizing panic. Humans drowned on the crossing from Turkey while I was there. A mother lost her child.

                  BUT… I also saw children laughing and playing beside a barbed wire fence, unaware that they were the objects of such heated debates all over the world. I saw a new believer be baptized in the Aegean Sea and rise up soaked and beaming. I saw volunteers lean down to hug the crying child and pick up countless bags of trash.  I saw a lot, the good and the bad.

                     But more than all these things, I saw humans. Hurting, sad, hopeless human beings. Unfortunately, the crisis continues, yet the reporters have gone home. The moment of truth comes……and many change the channel or scroll on by. The crisis has fallen from primetime tv and it seems, from people’s minds. The pope has made his appearance. A few movie stars have stopped by to see what’s going on, yet they too have gone home.

                  I say all of this, not to inspire you to go to Greece, although the need is great and the blessing enormous. I don’t even say this to try to get you to change your mind on the refugee crisis, although may the Lord move the way He sees best. I say this all to remind you that the job is not done. The crisis is not over. The battle is very real. Satan and his armies are armed and fighting hard to win battle after battle. Pray. Where the devil is focused and fighting, the followers of Christ should be focused and fighting twice as hard. Pray. Are the followers of the Messiah equal determined to fight, sacrifice and do what it takes to claim the victory that Jesus gives? Pray. Nations that were basically cut off from the Gospel are flooding to our doorstep, eager for something more. Pray.  Do we forget that the Master says that the fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much? (James 5:15) Pray. The Lord is moving in amazing ways. Pray that it could continue. Prayer shouldn’t be  your backup plan, consolation prize, or last resort. Prayer is your most powerful weapon, your direct communication with the Maker and Sustainer of the universe. Don’t forget that or take it for granted. The world needs YOU.

PRAY.

matthew-21-21-22

Published by thiswanderingheart2016

Just a nurse working in some part of the world trying to make a difference. Crisis are my specialty and people are my fascination. Currently in Bangladesh.

2 thoughts on “And so.. I went to Greece..

  1. This is lovely and so true. At the heart of the matter are human beings who just need help. I’m so inspired by your visit there to learn about things first hand rather than relying on mainstream media. Thank you for sharing your insight.

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