Rest and Refuge

Last Thursday I decided to work at "Welcome Home" and this past Saturday, I moved in. "Welcome Home" is a temporary place of residence for refugees seeking asylum in Canada. They can stay up to six months and in some cases, as long as a year. So far, so really good.

Except for not sleeping well the last four nights, life and the people here have been a delightfully welcome addition to my days. The bed I was given was creaky, too short, and dangerous. On the first day, I sat on the foot of the bed and the head went flying up. On the first night, at about 3 a.m., I rolled over and the box spring fell off the frame and onto the floor with a bang. The second night, I awoke to the sound of repeated banging and thought a door was open and flying in the wind. Instead, as I peeked out the window with eyes dry from lack of sleep, I saw a John Deere tractor plowing the back parking lot, hitting the building with it's shovel with each push. Apparently, I'm supposed to get up and move my car when the snowplow comes. Lord, please let winter, or at least the snow, be over. Thankfully, my brother, Dan, and our friend, Dave came and brought me another bigger, slightly better bed, so rest came easier to my tired body last night.

Although physically tired, I've eased into this place quickly. Granted, I have a lot of ropes to learn still, but I'm intrigued and feeling pretty good about this move. I've laughed to the point of tears and been stirred by the absolute tragedy of the circumstances my new friends are facing. One lady is convinced that we are spying on her and suspect her of possessing a bomb. However, because of her accent, this is what I heard," What? Dey tink I haf a bum? I haf no bum. Dey look behind me to see if I haf a bum, but I haf no..no bum!" Meanwhile, she may not have a bomb, but her bum is quite "thick", as she herself described it. As my co-worker, James, breezed passed her back and forth, this same lady commented to me, "He not James, he Windy!" My laughing knew no bounds as I considered the other more flatulent meaning behind his new name.

Refugees come to Canada because they hear it is a welcoming country. When they arrive, they imagine that they are finally safe and free from the horror and danger left behind them. However, most people see them as money mongers, leeches to our system, or an open door for criminals to enter. From my brief orientation, I understand that 98% of refugees are honest and truly fleeing impossible, life threatening circumstances. The Canadian government sends 60% of these vulnerable victims back to their terrifying places of origin. After four days, I can truly say that it would sadden and anger me to see any one of these beautiful people sent back to the hell they so recently escaped. My prayer is not only that I would sleep well but that each one of these individuals would find rest and refuge, in Canada and in Christ.