World View

So They May Know

As I entered the gate of the German refugee center I was surprised to see so many young boys playing football (soccer) outside in the snow and sleet. They all ran to greet us. My colleagues have been visiting the center for several weeks now, each time playing football with these kids.

Then, one by one, the men came out to greet us, smiling as they realized new friends had returned for a visit. Some were from Iraq, Iran and Turkey. Others came from Albania and Yugoslavia. Their backgrounds are as different as the countries of their birth, but they all have one thing in common: they all left family and friends behind in search of a better life. Escaping various forms of persecution and oppression, they’re all waiting for their cases to be heard by the German government…waiting to hear if they can remain in Germany.

I also noticed the obvious absence of women as I stood outside. I was told the women do all the work – shopping, cooking, cleaning and washing – with the help of their daughters. From time to time women would emerge from the small tenant buildings ever so briefly. I would nod and smile and say “hello” in German. They seemed hesitant to smile back as they hurried on to the next chore.

My friends and I decided to go into the “café” for some chai, a very strong tea. It was a dark and dirty room where refugees could go to drink chai, visit with friends, and play dominos. Surprisingly, I found the people there to be quite hospitable and we chatted amiably over cups of steaming chai.

Then along came Hakim* who spoke to me through our mutual friend. You see, he is a Turkish Kurd who speaks only Turkish and I can speak only a bit of German. I learned that he came to Germany with his wife, three sons and two daughters. He then smiled and told me his last son was born on the birthday of the great prophet, Jesus. I wonder if he will ever know the Truth in his heart.

A few moments later, Mustafa* greeted us and invited us to his room. What a privilege! I did not realize it was a special Islamic holiday and Mustafa wanted to visit with us over banana juice and cookies. He was a gracious host and his room was simple, but clean.

As we listened to Mustafa speak, I observed that His eyes told more of the weariness and sadness of his life than his words could ever verbalize. Mustafa told us that he was alone in the refugee center. He left a mother, brothers and sisters back in Iraq. His father had been killed in 1988 when Saddaam’s troops entered his village, releasing a sweet-smelling gas. All the people came out of their houses to smell the wonderful scent…and then they collapsed and died. Mustafa’s father and uncles were casualties of that attack.

Mustafa is tired of war. He is looking for peace…real peace.

Peace is the reason I will keep visiting this refugee center; why I will continue to visit over a cup of chai. Peace is why I will try to dismantle the invisible wall that imprisions these refugee women. I want to be available for the Prince of Peace to use me in the lives of these refugees in whatever way He chooses so that these people – His people – may come to know Him.

*Names have been changed for security reasons.