Love in the Time of Refugees



I’m in love.

I was fretful and anxious, but now I’m in love.

The context for my emotional bi-polarity has been the Syrian refugee crisis.

In my anxious phase I posted a great number of guilt-inducing refugee photos on Facebook. I sent money overseas to worthy causes. I applauded the heroic efforts of volunteers and the inhabitants of Lebos.

But most days I wrung my hands and felt ineffectual and therefore sad and worried.

But then the Halabi* family arrived. The Syrian refugee crisis took on flesh and blood and moved into the neighbourhood (to tweak a phrase from Eugene Peterson).

To be accurate, the Syrian refugee crisis took on flesh and blood and moved into the guest quarters on our community farm.

This is what the big scary refugee crisis looks like up close:

Hospitable. As I write, I look out my window and into the kitchen window of the Halabis. There I see Asna, who has been cooking constantly for two days. She’s cooking a feast of stuffed peppers, eggplants and zucchinis for each of the six families that call this farm home.

The guests have become the hosts and we are the beneficiaries. I can’t walk within sight of her door without being invited in for a cup of Arabic coffee (personally imported by Asna herself from a Jordanian market near the refugee camp in which she lived for three years. She brews the stuff so strong I can feel blood vessels popping in my head as I drink!).....


Read the rest over at Shelovesmagazine





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