The refugees poured into the parks, spread out their blankets, and set out plates of favorite homemade dishes and holiday treats.
The first day of spring, Nowroz, is a popular holiday in the homeland, and thousands of refugees were taking advantage of their relative safety and new freedom to celebrate in ways they hadn’t been able to back home. Children ran and played games as the adults fellowshipped and exchanged food—much like a huge American church picnic.
But as is often the case among these refugees, there was a tone of despair dampening the mood. In the lulls between the laughter and conversation, thoughts turned to the homeland and they wondered if they would ever see it again.
We get it. We also lived in the homeland for several years. But as the violence worsened, we followed the exodus to this large, foreign city.
We too have been deeply affected by the atrocities we have seen and experienced in the homeland. Some of those atrocities were even targeted towards us, the expatriate Christian community. We wonder what else Christ may ask His people to walk through for the sake of His name, before redemption breaks into that forbidden harvest field.
My wife and I wandered from group to group in the park, chatting and meeting new friends. We sat with one group of refugees who gossiped about how a woman in the homeland had been murdered—lynched and stoned—by her own countrymen. “They have no idea what they are doing,” one of the women said. She rubbed her eyes in shock at the depths of evil her own countrymen were capable of.
“Christ forgave those who didn’t know what they were doing,” my wife replied, “even as he hung on the cross.” We pray that the scandalous love of Jesus grips her heart.
From a human perspective, things look bleaker than ever in the homeland. But we are not without hope. We know a God who reigns, whose active and pursuing love is the hope for these refugees.
Our being here involves one giant hope: that the story of God’s glory in redeeming people through Jesus will intersect with—and bring meaning and joy to—the people we meet and their entire nation.
Pray for the refugees, that as they seek to rebuild their lives in a foreign land, they would find their surest hope and foundation in Jesus.
**This account comes from a long-term worker. Names have been changed for security.**
Original article: www.frontiersusa.org/blog/article/living-among-refugees-leaving-the-homeland