We Were Once Strangers Too

I first started truly learning about the Syrian refugee crisis in November 2015, when I heard about children dying and boats capsizing and sentiments expressed in off-hand comments like "Why should we let them in? They're not refugees, they're just migrants."

The Syrian civil war has been "ongoing" for the past seven years.

For the people of Eastern Ghouta, Syria, it has been a month of relentless airstrikes, artillery fire, cluster bombs, barrel bombs, incendiary bombs, sniper fire, and a chlorine attack. More than 1,500 people—fathers, mothers, children, aunts, uncles, grandmothers, grandfathers, cousins—have been killed in Eastern Ghouta since Sunday, February 19.

Two years and four months since November 2015, the Syrian civil war is still ongoing. It has been "ongoing" for the past seven years. March 15 marked the beginning of the eighth year of a war that has killed almost 500,000 people. Today, nearly 13 million Syrians are displaced; more than six million refugees have left their homeland.

In the first two months of 2018, the United States welcomed five Syrian refugees.

In the first two months of 2018, the United States welcomed five Syrian refugees. For context, five is approximately 19 times fewer than the number of people who died in a single day in Eastern Ghouta.

I wrote the poem below on November 18, 2015. It still seems applicable now.

Heavy heart, willing hands

Closed doors, open lands

Trapped in between

Nowhere to turn

God, have mercy

We are so lost
 

Heal the rift

Bridge the gap

Empathy

Hypocrisy

What strange words

Empty and full and sometimes unknown

Claiming to understand

We are so blind

So scared

Expecting the worst

We turn our backs

Hear their cry

Hear their hearts

What have we become?

Forgetting our past

We were once strangers too

Foreigners

Alone

Afraid

Unknown

Unwanted

Left-behind

The lost, the lonely

What do we do?

Where do we turn?

Lost childhoods

Lost limbs

Broken hearts

Broken minds

The weight of the future

The blood of thousands

On our hands

All on our hands

--

But the story doesn’t have to end this way. There is a better ending—and we can be part of that better ending.

There is a better ending—and we can be part of that better ending.

Organizations like the Preemptive Love Coalition and World Renew are making a difference in the lives of refugees locally displaced in Syria and Iraq, empowering people in opening businesses and rebuilding their future. Churches like Immanuel CRC in Hamilton, Ontario (and many others!) are welcoming refugee families admitted to Canada and the U.S. and walking with them in their resettlement process. People like you and me are calling their elected officials and asking them, “Where are the refugees?”

What if the poem read this way?

Hopeful heart, willing hands

Opened doors, open lands

Walk into a future

“We’re glad you’re here!"

God, take pleasure

We are one body
 

The rift is healed

The gap is bridged

Empathy

Humility

What powerful words

A signal, a sign that our actions aren’t ours

God, be praised

Guided by grace

We are unsure

Expecting the good

But fearing the bad

We choose to open our arms

For love overcomes fear

Who are we now?

We remember our past

We were once strangers too

Foreigners

Alone

Afraid

Unknown

Unwanted

Left-behind

The lost, the lonely

What do we see?

Look around:

Childhoods restored

New limbs

Healed hearts

Minds at peace

The weight of the future

The future of thousands

Joy in our hearts

Life on our hands

And God, we lift these hands and say

“We are your body

We are the church

‘And they’ll know

We are Christians

By our love’”

If you’re in the U.S., contact your elected officials here to support refugee resettlement.

If you’re in Canada, watch for an opportunity to advocate alongside refugees on Refugee Rights Day (April 4).

[Image: Flickr user Jordi Bernabeu Farrús, under Creative Commons license]