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For those of us who have grown up in a stable political environment and a home sheltered from life’s storms, we may never fully understand the desolation and insecurity experienced by those deprived of them. I serve in a church attended by many refugee families displaced from their homeland because of the ravages of war and political devastation. They had lost everything and had fled to a foreign land to piece their lives together. As I heard their stories, my heart was stirred to compassion. Their story is one of loss and despair. But it is also a story of God’s mercy and compassion as He turned their mourning into joy.
One wintry day in my second year in the country that I served (I’m unable to reveal the country for reasons of security), I was asked if I would like to visit some of the refugee families with a pastor and his family. I said “yes” without any hesitation. I wanted to grab at the chance to minister to them in their world of suffering and misery. I saw it as an opportunity of a lifetime. I excitedly wrote home about this impending visit and my home supporters were equally thrilled by it. They immediately contributed funds that allowed me to buy heaters, carpets and food items for the families.
We visited one church which was attended by many Iraqi refugees who were living near it. We saw their appalling lack of necessities and offered the refugee families basic essentials to help them tide over winter. And we prayed for them during the visits. We also visited other families with large households who were crammed into small flats. I could sense their anguish and the ordeal they had to endure just to survive. It was heartbreaking for me to see them trying to accommodate one another in the little space they had. I resolved to pray unceasingly for them. Every family, especially Muslim families, was grateful for the churches’ care and help.
A local church with which I had built a relationship received some overseas financial donations and used the funds to distribute food packages to the various refugee families. Occasionally, the local church would announce a collection day where church members and friends were invited to donate clothes and useful items for new refugee families. No gesture was too small because we knew that whatever were collected would go a long way to meeting the refugee families’ needs. I played my part by contributing some clothes and stationery to the church. To ensure that the refugees could collect the donated items easily, an Open Day was organised on either a Friday or Saturday. We were delighted to see so many refugee families, mostly Muslims, coming to the church. We greeted them, welcomed them and blessed them.
Almost every year, the local church would also host a Medical Open Day. On this day, a volunteer medical team from the United States would offer medical help and consultations. The church would invite foreign students to help out. I had the opportunity to help twice. As a first-time volunteer, I was amazed to see so many Muslim families suffering from physical and emotional trauma coming to seek medical help. I was thankful for the opportunity to serve and bless them, and did everything possible to offer the children or the families the best help.
The refugees suffered from a variety of sicknesses and had a whole range of medical needs. The medical team checked them diligently and dispensed medicine without charging any fee. The pastor’s wife together with the church members provided emotional and spiritual care, and offered prayers for those who were willing to receive them. I gave thanks for every prayer uttered before God for these refugees. I was confident their dire circumstances would not go unheeded by our compassionate God.
In my third and fourth year in this country, I became involved with the Kids’ Program at the church. Every Saturday, I would be there to lead them in songs and various activities. Some of the refugee children who had come from the neighboring countries also attended the program. When I first served in the Kids’ Program, I could see how disorientated the refugee children were. I also saw fear and uncertainty reflected in their eyes. They were obviously traumatized and scarred by their war experience. They sat quietly on their chairs, hardly daring to make a sound. Later, I realised that some of them had lost their parents and had fled with their relatives to this country. Thankfully, in their culture, relatives would step in as guardians of the children whose parents were lost. I had the opportunity to visit a local orphanage and realised that this cultural practice actually resulted in fewer orphans under its roof.
At the Kids’ Program, we taught the children about God through songs, stories, games, crafts and prayers. They were happy to sing along, play along, listen to the stories, pray and learn new crafts. Every Saturday, the church would send a bus to pick them up. We also took them to the local park or zoo during the school holidays or after their final exams. They loved every outing and felt blessed to be able to participate in the activities. I felt tremendous joy just seeing their faces lit up with excitement.
After a few weeks and months of working among them, I started to see some changes in the children. They were smiling and laughing a lot more. Any traces of fear or trauma seemed to be wiped off from their faces. They were slowly coming back to life. I was moved and delighted at the same time as they smilingly replied to questions I asked in their local language, “Where did you come from? Do you have other siblings?” Sometimes, we would see refugee children standing up when we asked, “Who among you need prayer? Please stand up and come forward.” They would march slowly to the front of the class. The teachers would ask about their needs and we would pray for them. You should see their happy contented faces after receiving the prayers.
There were other changes. Whenever I came across the refugee children in the streets or shops, they would greet me with beaming faces. This had never happened before. Now they were initiating contact! I thanked our Heavenly Father for listening to our prayers and healing the trauma and hurt experienced by the children. Sometimes the children would attend Sunday evening service with their parents. When they saw me with other teachers, they would offer us broad smiles. I was thrilled to see the joy reflected on their faces. Their hearts were being transformed by the love of God through the Kids’ Program. God was slowly removing the scars in their lives.
Most of them eventually migrated to other countries with their parents. We reluctantly said goodbye. I was, however, thankful that those who had moved to other countries had settled down well. I am thankful to our Heavenly Father for His healing Hand on families, especially those affected by the trauma of war. As I reflect on my ministry among the kids, I am thankful for the opportunity to work with other teachers who faithfully serve God in the kids’ ministry in the local churches.
I also thank God for the women’s ministry in my six or seven years there. Every Saturday I would join the women’s group at the church or at my landlady’s house. There were Koreans involved in this group, too. We would sing praises, study the Bible and pray for each other. Occasionally we visited those who were ill. The women were key to the church because of their strong support and constant prayer for each other and for the church.
A few of the women refugees or ladies who attended church were unbelievers. I would visit them to encourage them to take the step of faith. They all had different needs – health, finance, family. They would seek us out and invite us to their homes. Some eventually came to faith as they personally encountered Jesus. We witnessed one particular refugee family whose family members came to faith one by one despite their mother not knowing how to read. She had accepted Christ from the good news being preached on TV!
In 2020, Covid-19 hit a critical stage. A five-month lockdown was announced and I left the country for home. But my heart lingers in the country, for those refugee families, for the women’s ministry. I still pray for the refugee families and their children as I seek our Heavenly Father for His protection and blessing over them.