Aromatic steam curled from Rola’s tea as she clutched her cup in trembling hands. Rola and I had both adopted our host country around the same time a few years ago. Eventually we became great friends, despite our very different circumstances. My arrival as a Frontiers field worker was completely voluntary—even a dream come true—while Rola’s experience had been the opposite.

A refugee from Syria, Rola lost everything she’d known to militant conflicts and came here desperate for peace and safety. But the sense of security she longed for continued to elude her.

Then came the earthquakes that ravaged Türkiye and Syria. Though a few hundred miles from the epicenter, we felt tremors during the early hours of that frightening morning in February, and aftershocks continued to rattle beneath our feet for days.

“The earthquakes were harder for me than the war.” Tears sprang to Rola’s eyes as she dropped her chin. “I know that doesn’t make any sense.”

I searched for the right words, then decided the best thing I could do for my friend was simply sit and listen.

She stared down at her cup. “I could run and hide from men with bullets and bombs. Where can I run when the ground shakes without warning?”

As I listened to Rola, I ached for her. It seemed all her life she had known only suffering. And even months after the earthquakes, fear kept her from sleeping through the night.

Our community may not have lost any buildings or lives to the disaster, but the emotional upheaval took a terrible toll, particularly on those who had left Syria to escape violence.

When she finished telling me about her fear, I let a moment of silence stretch between us.

I sensed God reminding me of His promise that He is “near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).

“Rola.” I set my teacup aside. “May I share something with you? I’d like you to know what brings me comfort even in hard times.”

She nodded.

“As you have experienced, our world is full of suffering and heartache.” I smiled and gently touched her arm. “But I have peace because I follow the One who stands with those who suffer, and He is never shaken.”

“Who? How could anyone remain still when the earth moves?” Rola’s tear-streaked face remained downcast. She shook her head. “No, that cannot be.”

“Jesus is not afraid when the earth shakes. He controls the land and the sea.” I reached for Rola’s hand. “When we understand who Jesus is and how much He loves us, we don’t have to live in fear. We can have peace—even joy—no matter the circumstances.”

For the first time during our conversation, Rola’s eyes lifted to mine, and there, mixed with tears of grief and sorrow, shimmered the tiniest spark of hope.

Pray:

• Lift up Syrian refugees and others who still suffer the physical and emotional effects of the earthquakes.
• Ask the Lord to give field workers opportunities to share the comfort of Jesus with those who are living in fear.
• Pray that many Muslim men and women affected by displacement and natural disasters will find hope through Jesus.

**This account comes from a long-term worker. Names have been changed for security.**

Main photo on iStock

Original article: https://frontiersusa.org/blog/brokenhearted/