Listening to someone share about how America's foreign policy and military campaigns have destroyed their city, driven them from their home and family and forced them through 'rock & a hard place' resettlement options, sure puts a face on what used to be news articles and sound bites on talk shows.
Listening to someone share what life is like having to call America home, the very country that forever took away your own national home...is deeply conflicting.
Looking into the eyes of people who have seen what you only hear about through talking heads and polarizing, pontificating politicians is far more articulate and convincing.
Seeing the ache of a life once lived, sounds forever stilled, voices too far away too touch, childhoods, places, ways of being...forever altered, not quite the same, just out of grasp...always 'not quite the same'...is an experience that is hard to articulate.
As someone who has spent a lot of time wrestling, debating, praying and studying on war, nonviolence and refugees, last nights dinner, conversations, biblical study and fellowship with Iraqi muslims put my growing convictions into a concrete reality. The implications of these burdens and visions of a way of life, a way of being, of relating with one another....took on fresh hope and a practical connectedness that made sense to me in ways like never before.
I now see how God's call to work with refugees has a connection to my political science passion and my interest in issues of war and peace and what the gospel brings to the troubles and evils of men, like never before.
I felt perfectly formed for the task last night...talking to people who valued the words of peace...like few others have.
It was a blessing.
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