My jetlagged eyes could hardly take in what they were seeing. The relentless sun burning the ground and the bare feet that walked it; the makeshift tents; yelling adults; crying children; six year old caring for toddlers; newborn babies wrapped in blankets, protected from the sun’s scorching rays, but undoubtedly feeling its full heat. Incomprehensible words fell on my ears: Turkish and Arabic. And there we were, four weary and overwhelmed travelers just trying to help and hoping not to get in the way.
The children desperately wanted our attention, to be hugged, held, to have their hair fixed, and just to be loved on. They were left to fend for themselves all day long while the “adults” – many of whom are just children themselves, deemed old enough to work – were in the fields. Mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, were forced to leave their beloved children in these harsh conditions in order to work and hopefully bring something back to eat.
We were told that they mostly eat out of what they are harvesting. Sometimes, though, the crops are cotton and hot peppers. What then are they supposed to eat if they are forbidden to go to town and buy food?
Enter the shiny white van and a cargo truck, both carrying precious sacks of non-perishable food items, diapers, wipes, feminine pads, and yummy Simmit bread. Who drives the caravan of provision? Angels. Five dedicated men and women ranging in age from 45 – 60+ years. Monday and Thursday, week after week, they enter the otherwise unaided refugee camps with one purpose: to show God’s love in a tangible way. And they do it so well.
Who are the adults and children living in such a place? They are Syrian refugees. Victims of war. Lovers of their country, but ashamed of what is has become. They are homesick, but afraid to go home…that is, if there is anything left of the place they once called home. Some of the children will remember Syria. Others have only ever known the shelter of these tents. What incredible trauma and hardship has been caused by a senseless war.
I wonder what they must have experienced in order to come to the conclusion that it would be best to cross mountains and borders by foot, enter into an unknown land where you don’t know if you will be welcomed, imprisoned, or sent straight back, only to end up living in these desperate conditions.
Yet, as with all things, God’s love is redeeming even this. When would these people have ever encountered His love in Syria? Who would have done something to cause them to ask, “Why do you, (Christians) love us better than our Muslim brothers and sisters?”
The war has caused an “involuntary coming” into contact with God’s hands and feet on earth. Oh, how He loves them so! What they do not know yet, but one day will, is that as they run to greet the caravan of men, women, and food, they are running to encounter Jesus’ love.
Here at VidaNet our heart beats to send out more “caravans”, living examples of the love of our Father, travelers walking down the path of the gospel, colliding with individuals, hungry for the hope that only God can give.
We long to go to places where the Gospel has never been shared or where perhaps it has never been lived out and expressed clearly. We are the hands and feet of Jesus here on earth. We want to walk, inviting everyone, live with open hands for all to freely receive what Christ has freely given us. To share life, everywhere.
For that reason, we are excited to announce a new program, Vida Global. An initiative to send more workers into the harvest locally, regionally, and internationally! We are excited to continue planning, and developing this program, and would love to invite you to be involved! Stay tuned for more developments and updates!
