Go Beyond

Amman, Jordan

The Iraqi refugee families we have visited over the past week are all haunted by the things they can’t unsee. Family members murdered. A father hung from a tree. Property destroyed. A beheading. The rape of a daughter. The distressed faces of others on the road out of town. Walls pockmarked by bullets. The looting of personal property. And more. Always more because the Islamic State has an insatiable appetite for destruction.

The toughest part of listening to these stories is the realization that, in each instance, children were present. Children witnessed the killings, the degradation of human life, and the destruction of property. These images are hard enough for adults to deal with much less kids. There is no way for a child of whatever age to unsee these horrors and atrocities that become the seeds of nightmares.

One of our teams met a talented young Iraqi girl who is a self-taught artist. Her artwork was amazing. In one piece, she sketched the horrors of her past in juxtaposition to her hopes for the future. Brilliant and moving stuff. She said that the only way she can cope with the mess of the past is by daily trusting God. She also asked that we not post her work online because of the personal and graphic nature of her work.

Another team met a fifteen year old boy whose right arm and right leg were blown off in an explosion three years ago. He had run for cover behind a phone pole only to have a rocket smash into the pole and blow it out of the ground along with him. He lives with the daily reality of what happened to him when the Islamic State rolled into town. His life is forever changed. He will never be able to unsee what happened to him.

All of the children we met showed some measure of resilience. Kids will be kids. And even though they have seen things no one should ever have to see, they still manage to smile, play games, and sing songs. And they craved our attention. They were so happy to see us and wanted to be sure that we set aside time to interact with them and not just their parents.

The future will be much different for these kids. For the time being they are in a safe place. The movement of their lives will continue in a direction away from the Islamic State. They long for a brighter future and their parents know that the only way to give their kids a shot at it is by creating as much distance as possible between their families and the Islamic State.

When the Islamic State is not killing and maiming kids it is recruiting kids into their ranks of child soldiers. Sending kids into harm’s way is normal operating procedure for jihadist groups. These things alone tell us much about the rotten and dark soul of the Islamic State. In the words of Nelson Mandela, “There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way it treats its children.”

Our teams cared for lots of displaced Iraqi families this week — and blessed a lot of kids in the process. As Christ-followers, we value the sanctity of human life and the sanctity of childhood. We will continue to do all that we can to protect children and the lives of the most innocent and vulnerable among us. Where the Islamic State destroys we will continue to sow seeds of hope and life so that people who suffer most will see the beauty of Christ.

Amman, Jordan

The world has become the stage on which the sad stories of ISIS continue to play. The Islamic State is quick to take ownership of worldwide acts of terror — especially the kind that are so sensational they cannot be ignored. But, for every story that major media outlets cover, there are hundreds of others that the world will never hear about.

In the short period that the Islamic State has dominated the world stage, they have forever altered the lives of millions. Their ideology of violence is fueled by a theology of hate and intolerance. Their definition of infidel is so broad that even Muslims who are not like them are not safe. They have shown no regard for ancient sites that belong to the world or people who deserve to live without fear in the world.

This week I met a family of Iraqi Christians who had to flee their beautiful home in Kirkuk, a town in northern Iraq, when ISIS rolled into town. Their lives will never be the same. The UNHCR ultimately relocated some siblings to America and others to Australia while their aging and grieving parents are struggling to survive in Jordan. They will never again gather as a family in one place.

This month, more family members arrived from Kirkuk. The young father I met owned his own small business — a barber shop. He shared that as his business had grown he had hired two additional barbers to work in his shop. He made enough money to support his own family and to help two others support theirs. He and his family were happy.

And then, the Islamic State showed up and the threats started — convert, pay a burdensome tax, or leave under threat of death. To make sure the family understood the seriousness of their threats, ISIS left an envelope on their doorstep containing a bullet and a hand-scrawled message that simply read, “You are next.”

When the young barber showed up at his shop, he found that ISIS had trashed it. Everything was destroyed. His equipment, certificates, chairs, mirrors. He returned home, packed whatever belongings he could carry with him, and fled with his wife and young son and a small bag of barber supplies. He eventually found his parents who have temporarily resettled in Amman.

This young man was not looking for or expecting a handout. What he wants is a hand up to help him start his journey toward a new life. He has received some assurances from the UNHCR that they will be allowed to join a sister who resettled in Australia. He dreams of moving there soon and opening a new barbershop to support his family.

We invited him to join us at the place where we are staying in Amman to give haircuts to our team of fifty. This afternoon, half our team waited in line for haircuts and generously paid him for his services. He made enough money today to cover his rent for a month. Tomorrow, he will return to give haircuts to the rest of our team. He was so happy to work for his rent.

At the end of their day I met with him, thanked him for his services, and assured him of our prayers. I told him that my deepest hope is that God will open a door of opportunity for him to resettle in a place where he and his family can start anew — and where he can open a new barbershop. I have every expectation that God will indeed bless him and honor his desire to work and care for his family.

While the Islamic State continues its agenda of death and destruction, the barber from Kirkuk is charting a new course. What ISIS meant for evil God will turn into good for this man and his family. Of that I am confident.

Amman, Jordan

Jesus understood the dynamics of trouble. On one occasion, He urged Peter and the disciples to stop being “troubled” (John 14:1). Jesus used a particular word that described an ocean caught in the teeth of a storm. Storms have a way of tearing our confidence to shreds and leaving us fearfully clinging to any scrap of hope that can keep us afloat.

The Scripture is clear that trouble is a part of the human condition. No one is exempt from facing troubles. Today, however, our students came face-to-face with Iraqi Christians who understand better than we do what it means to be in trouble — serious, frightening, life-altering trouble.

As we visited with Iraqi families displaced from their homes by ISIS, each of our teams heard the same recurring theme — when ISIS arrived, trouble arrived. Each family passionately and tearfully told us their respective stories about how their lives were turned upside down. We sat spellbound as we listened to incredible stories of escaping ISIS in the nick-of-time.

I have heard more of these stories over the years than I can count. But today, three of the families that my team visited showed us before and after photos of the damage and destruction caused by ISIS. Each of these families lived in large, comfortable homes in northern Iraq. ISIS ran them off, looted their homes, stole their automobiles, and then wantonly destroyed the structures.

Some of the families had photocopies of the damage and others had cell phone pics. In each case the damage was extensive. And in each case the families said they are happy to have escaped with their lives, unlike some of their neighbors, but want nothing more than to leave this troubled and dangerous region. They are fed up with the violence that makes life here dangerous and unbearable.

Who can argue with them. After all, they want for their families what we want for our own families — the relative safety and security that can ensure them of happiness, opportunities for their children, and the prospects of a long and happy life. ISIS makes these basic and fundamental human rights unattainable. And so, the greater the distance they can create between themselves and these radical Islamists, the better their chances of mitigating the kind of trouble that threatens to tear them to shreds.

Once again, our students witnessed the collision of competing world views. Our presence brought smiles, tears of joy, gratitude, and the reminder that God is aware of and acts on behalf of those caught in the teeth of a storm. While the storms of damage, destruction, and death continue to rage, these families demonstrated a contrasting inner calm. They know that moving forward will be hard but want nothing more than to move forward.

ISIS has robbed these families of possessions but cannot keep them from looking in a new direction — one that leads toward hope. You can count on ISIS to take the world backwards, to leave their signature of death and destruction wherever they go, and to bring an ominous darkness with them. But death and darkness are no match for the God of light, life, and love who alone can calm hearts and quiet storms and who makes new beginnings possible.

Amman, Jordan

I am back in Jordan with an outstanding team of students. We are here to serve Iraqi Christians displaced by ISIS and Syrian Muslims displaced by civil conflict. For the fourth year in a row, our students have moved in the direction of people who have suffered unimaginable losses. The vast majority of these individuals fled for their lives with little more than the clothes on their backs.

We started our morning with prayer and worship, enjoyed breakfast, and then divided into two teams to prepare for the day’s work. One team assembled humanitarian food packs while the other team sorted through clothing to distribute to Iraqi and Syrian families in need — no small task but one made easier by many hands.

After lunch we divided into smaller teams to visit Iraqi families who had fled their homes in order to escape ISIS. Each family shared their personal stories of leaving everything behind. And each story repeated a common theme — namely, when ISIS came to our town, hope departed. Those who finally made it to safety in Jordan did so by the skin of their teeth.

Starting over is never easy, especially without the benefit of resources. Even those who were wealthy in Iraq have had to make monumental adjustments in order to survive on the bare minimum. Pride is no longer a consideration when there are mouths to feed. These families are happy to see us move in their direction with enough groceries to help sustain them for another week or two.

Today we heard the same thing more than once — “you have brought us hope.” Those words have echoed through my soul all day because they represent a collision of two world views. When ISIS came near, even hope itself departed. However, when we came near, we brought with us more than groceries in our humanitarian aid bags. We brought hope.

For all of the families we visited, our arrival was well-timed and a reminder that God had not forgotten them. Even though the future may look uncertain, our hour-long visits served as a reminder that God is very much aware of the plight of the suffering. Perhaps the greatest privilege we enjoyed today was praying with each family. Sometimes people need more than bread in order to survive. God used our prayers to nourish parched souls and as a vehicle through which to deliver hope.

Our evening worship and debrief was powerful as student after student shared how the events of the day impacted them. They understand better the importance of our world view that honors the sanctity of human life. And they understand that this week the world view that compels us to love and serve others without condition will continue to collide with a world view that seeks to steal, to kill, and to destroy. To those who feel that hope has departed, we have come to help pave the way for hope to return.