What would you do?

I close my eyes and like a dream, I see myself standing in our living room, my family all around. I’m sweating as my heart races to find strength and courage. Fear and faith battle for position on my wife’s face as she looks to me for reassurance. Our kids have heard the rumors, although they don’t really know what it means, or who “they” are that is coming. Just a few short miles away, people were killed in the street. I don’t know why, nobody does. Where else could we go? This is our home. We’re surrounded by friends and family, neighbors and community. Our churches, schools, and jobs are here. This is our world, our life. Then as I try to calm the family and hold my kids close to settle their fear, an explosion shakes the walls of our cozy, little house. A family picture falls from the wall and shatters on the floor. I see the glass in a million pieces, but the family still intact. I know what we have to do. Leave the framework of our life behind to keep the family safe and together. “Everyone pack a bag,” I say with as much confidence as I can find. We only have minutes to get out. They might already have the roads blocked. I don’t know where to go but we have to try to find refuge somewhere. Life as we knew it is over.

This image I have described has probably played out in a similar way thousands of times just in my lifetime. The details of families fleeing war and violence around the world are I’m sure much more intense and dramatic than my privileged, suburban mind can imagine, and I can’t even fathom actually having to choose to leave everything behind to protect my family from certain oppression and likely death. I don’t know what I would do, but it makes me think about how I look at the ones who have had to make that choice. It makes me think about how to view them, as humans that deserve to be loved and respected, welcomed and comforted. Moms and dads, brothers and sisters, all seeking refuge for a better life with peace and joy. Loving our neighbor carries no prerequisite of them having proper immigration papers, or if they are educated, speak our language, or will be a “productive member of society”. We love them as humans, created in the image of God.

This is something I wrestle with. Here in small-town Oregon, we are so far removed from the plight of millions throughout the world. We have our nicely fenced yards, instagram-worthy vacations, and an abundance of comfort and freedom that is easy to take for granted. But what if that all went away? What if we were the ones facing a military coup, widespread famine, or a bloody civil war? What would we do? Who would we turn to for help. What if the wall was no longer to keep others out, but to keep us in? How would our perspective change, and would we consider ourselves as “illegal” if we tried to flee to safety with our family? Consider these things when you hear the stories of refugees. Think about what they may have been through and put yourself in their shoes for a moment. How would you want to be treated after fleeing for your life and the safety of your family? I don’t know about you, but I would want to be seen as a human, worthy to be loved with compassion and kindness. And let’s pray we never have to find out what we would do if we were in their shoes.