Full Circle

I am at my desk in Mrs. Murray's third grade classroom.  I am looking at the cover of this week's Weekly Reader, and I see an African child with a bloated belly and fly-covered face.  I have never seen anything like this before, and I struggle to understand. 

Fast forward many years.  I am at a Sara Groves concert.  I hear of a group called World Relief that resettle refugees in High Point.  I wonder what this is.  A seed is thrown on dry ground.

Fast forward again.  I sit in Jewel Cooper's Diverse Learners class in graduate school and listen to book talks.  I am intrigued by one called The Middle of Everywhere: The World's Refugees Come to Our Town by Mary Pipher.  I choose to read that book, and my soul is deeply moved and troubled.  Her stories sadden my heart, but I move on.  A seed is thrown on rocky soil.

Fast forward many more years.  I am a stay-at-home mom of two and I need something else.  I timidly, awkwardly sign up for a volunteer orientation and training session at World Relief in High Point.  I hear they also resettle refugees in Winston-Salem sometimes.  I am intrigued by what I learn, but I have two young children and I live 30 minutes away from their office.  What can I do?  A seed is thrown but struggles to take root because it is not yet planting season.

Fast forward 6 months.  World Relief is opening an office in Winston-Salem.  I apply for a job and think this is it!  But then I don't get it.  I am sad, but I know God is in control and I trust him.  The timing must not be right.  I learn that my worth is not determined by how much I do in the coming months.  I needed to learn that.  A seed is thrown but struggles to emerge because the time is not right.

Now things start to move quickly.  Fast forward one month.  My pastor asks me and the deacon outlook chair if we would be interested in befriending a refugee family in the coming year.  I call and say yes!  We meet and I share what I know about World Relief.  A seed is planted on fertile ground. 

Fast forward another month.  My pastor asks if I would be interested in going to an all-day conference in Illinois about the church's response to the global refugee crisis.  I think he sends the email on a whim, as he later says he knows it's hard for a mom of two young children to travel that far.  I smile and tell him this stay-at-home mom would love to go!  A seed is watered with showers from heaven.

Fast forward another month.  I go with a dear friend from church to the conference, and we are both blown away and inspired.  I never knew so many like-minded people existed.  It is literally one of the best days of my life!  I come back with a new, special friend and a strong desire to educate and engage.  A seed is nourished by the noonday sun.

Fast forward 2 months.  I encounter some resistance from a few to befriending refugees.  I think it is based on fear and a not knowing.  I have not encountered resistance in my beloved church before.  It throws me off for a time, but then I remember, "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 5:10)."  I can barely call this persecution, but it gives me strength to keep on.  I also remember Jen Hatmaker saying that some people will not like it when you stand with the marginalized and it doesn't mean you're doing something wrong; it means you're doing it right.  We keep on and educate and World Relief answers our hard questions with candor and grace.  There are no hard feelings and love wins.  A seed finally sprouts and emerges through the ground.

I use what I've learned and been given to create a presentation.  I share with my Sunday School class first, and 4 people want to get involved!  We offer classes to educate our congregation and invite a refugee to share his story.  More people come than I imagined, and my heart skips a beat.  It is exhilarating.  The new seedling grows taller and reaches toward the sky.

I am unsure, but I apply to intern at the Winston-Salem office in the summer.  I think this will help me know my next step.  Do I really want to do this?  

I am accepted and excited to start at the end of May, but will I like it?  Here goes nothing. 

Nine people from my church attend training and decide to start a Good Neighbor Team to walk alongside a newly arrived family, to befriend them and teach them.  Is this really happening?

Present day.  I have interned for 4 weeks, and I now know the blessing of finally, finally doing instead of talking.  I needed the talking because it prepared me for the doing.  At the conference, Bill Hybels said people go through three stages: Awareness, Education, and Engagement.  I needed those words to give voice to what happened as new people first heard.  Those words helped me be patient and understanding because I remembered the long road I travelled to get to this place.  And now those same words are coming back to me as I begin to engage and remind me of my journey.

For 4 weeks, I have filled out job applications, entered data, filed papers, met people from all over the world, looked at potential houses for them, shopped for their first groceries, gone on factory tours with them, driven them to appointments, used my training to communicate with my hands and my smile what words can't convey.  I have trained them for their first job in the United States, and my mama's heart has hoped and prayed they successfully navigated the bus system to make it to work on their first day.  I have rejoiced with them at their first job and at learner's permits received.  I have made it my mission to show them how to use a dishwasher and given them dishwasher soap!  I have been given the seat of honor and more food and drink than you can imagine.  I have also seen and experienced the mystery and joy of what it is to work with other like-minded believers.

But yesterday was the greatest gift.  On a day I don't intern, I took my boys to play with a Syrian mama's children.  She made us lunch and dessert and gave us Oreos.  Her husband had marveled the night before at her homemade dessert, but she said, "No!  This is for Anna!"  We talked and did our best to communicate, but mainly she showed hospitality and I received it.  I have met her three times, and now when we depart, we embrace and kiss cheeks.  The young plant's leaves begin to unfurl and glisten in the morning sun.

Earlier this week, I met the only 4 Somalis who have been resettled in Winston-Salem.  There are more Somalis in High Point, but not here.  These three siblings and one nephew range in age from 18-21, and they live and work together.  I helped them apply for a better job this week, and we were able to converse some in English.  I found out they could not speak their native language to anyone in Winston-Salem.  They have been here for 3 months, and I wondered how hard it must be. 

The young Somali woman was so sweet and seemed interested in going to the World Refugee Day party at the High Point office on Friday evening.  I knew they didn't have a car, so I asked my sweet husband if we could offer to take them and he agreed.  I asked their case manager to extend our offer to them, and the Somali woman said yes!  My heart hoped there would be more Somalis at the celebration.  We went to pick her up and ended up taking her and her nephew to the party.  A prominent realtor who befriended them after picking them up at the airport drove the other two Somalis.  When we arrived and started eating and talking, we met some Ethiopians who spoke the same language as my new Somali friends.  (The Somalis had moved to Ethiopia before coming to the United States.)  I asked them if they would go talk to my sweet friend, and they did and they even exchanged numbers.  This sweet, shy, young Somali woman sat with other women and talked in her native language all evening long, and my heart sang.  The new plant's roots stretch deep and its body soars to the heavens.

At one point during the evening, people danced and sang songs from their countries.  People from Bhutan and the Congo and perhaps other places performed.  Everyone gathered round and clapped and some even went to the middle of the circle and danced.  Everyone came to watch as others performed and cheered them on, regardless of where they were from.  My heart smiled as I saw my Somali friends film a Bhutanese girl as she performed a dance. 

As I looked around that circle of people from all over the world celebrating together, I thought to myself: This is what God's true family looks like and how long I have missed the awareness and beauty of it!  How happy and proud He must be tonight to have all his children singing and dancing together!  This is what Heaven must look, sound, feel, and be like.  And my heart was thankful for this glimpse of the kingdom of God on earth.  I think this moment will forever be etched in my mind.  I certainly hope it will be.

After a game of soccer we drove all 4 Somalis home, and we laughed as Lincoln called the young lady "Nemo" instead of her actual similar sounding name.  I told them Finding Nemo was a movie here and showed them who Nemo was on my phone.  When we got to their apartment, they thanked us and we shook hands with the men.  I embraced the young Somali woman just as I'd embraced the young Syrian woman earlier that day and I wondered how God allowed me this much goodness in one single day. 

This morning a woman awakens early and an image from a third grade Weekly Reader comes to her mind.  She has not thought of it in years, but she can almost make out the small child on the cover.  At first she struggles to remember if the child was Ethiopian or Somali, but then she realizes that it doesn't matter.  It doesn't matter anymore because she has felt the pleasure of God as she watched all His children dance and sing together.  She stops and thanks her God for allowing her this full circle joy.  Flowers burst forth in brilliant color in the noonday sun!

Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?
Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.

If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.

-Isaiah 58:6-10