The Lost Boys of Afghanistan

{photo by the NY Times}

Months ago I wrote a post, Ghosts of Patras. This post made aware the plight of refugees and migrants who lived in limbo in Greece. The New York Times posted an article the other morning speaking on this very topic. How grateful I was to see more light shed on the conditions that these men and women live in. More than the story are the images. The photograph shot in black and white relay the emotion, their stark reality.

{photo by the NY Times}

{Photo by the NY Times}

I've also discovered another emotionally stirring article and well as this heart-breaking report which addresses the Iraqis refugee stuck in a sort of revolving door between Turkey and Greece, seeing no hope in sight. This latter report addresses the same issue the NY Times reported on which was that of the Afghan youth in Greece. You can also watch this clip. Another powerful that tells the jounrey of an Iraqi refugee who has made it through Greece and on to France, now attempting to cross from France to England, which this clip titled After Sangatte: Europe's untold Refugee Crisis.

Years ago, I had just returned from my time living abroad in Italy. I was struggling to understand why God had me live in Italy.. here I was back in Franklin working the same job at Starbucks as I had been prior to leaving. Those first few months home, I went through a wave of emotions in seeking to understand the 'why'. A visiting pastor at my church was gifted in counseling, was offering his time to to meet with us over a two day period. On a whim, I decided to meet with him. When I think back on this meeting, I remember that I had not shared much- rather he was sensitive to where I was at. He told me that it was ok that I wasn't at peace with just 'staying in Franklin'. God has put big visions in my heart for many nations and He was going to do something with that. I wasn't meant to stay. At this, I felt relief and terrified at the same time. What did this mean? Many nations? I only was familiar with a small corner of the globe. Months later, I was hired to work for Joshua Expeditions. And as I sit here, having come into my 5 season with JE, having witnesses much- I recognize my heart for many nations.. they are all pouring into one continent: Europe. I've seen this on massive levels. In Florence, I've heard the stories of young Cameroonians while selling watches; in Paris I've met and seen their hurt in the eyes of Algerians while bartering pursues; In Rome I've encountered Bangladeshi who've crossed an ocean to sell toys in from of the Trevi Fountain; in Patras I've watched as the Afghan lines the streets in Patras attempting to run and hide under a semi-truck as it travels to Italy; In Athens I've witnesses Albanian couples come together for a night of worship, in Albania, a safe place for them to feel home; in London the Pakistani and Iraqis; in Munich the Turkish.. the list is endless. Many nations. So many are left without hope.

For so many of us here in American, we live in incredible luxury. We have the luxury to choose to live a simple life. Yet the majority of the world does not have that luxury. We are called to love because the love of Christ compels us. To not segregate but embrace those, bring them into our lives; we are to show active compassion and affirm those who've lost that hope of their dignity and give them a voice. Through that active compassion, it transforms lives.

Greece is only one corner of the globe. What is happening in this part of Europe, is happening in thousands of other locations. Here are a few other resources to make yourself more aware of these crimes against humanity and how you can help:

The International Rescue Committee
UN Refugee Agency
IT Refugee Ministry

Tennessee, you've been good to me

the view from my parents home

sweet friends at one of our many cookouts

It seems fitting that for lyrics to convey where my thoughts are this morning..

“Tennessee you’ve been good to me.. yes I’ve come to believe, you’re where I want to be.. you may not be.. what everybody needs.. but Tennessee.. you’re good enough for me” Mindy Smith

“if I hadn’t left Nashville. I wouldn’t be here today..”. Casey Black

“You’re a distant memory, you’re an exit south.. On a childhood highway.. it’s not quite London.. or the south of France.. or an Asian island.. or a second chance.. going back to Nashville thinking about the whole thing, guess you’ve got to run sometimes..” David Mead

There are places that will always leave an imprint on my heart.. moments that will play out in the theater of my mind.. and when they come, how I savor the memory. So many moments from brunch on Sundays in New York City; walking through Central Park in the snow; to playing music in the open piazzas of Florence; late nights on my front porch in Savannah with friends and the heady scent of jasmine on a soft breeze... Yet there is that place which causes an ache so deep within you… the only way to soothe that is to return. Home.

So often I’m asked; ‘..of all the places you’ve gone, what is your favorite place?’ How my answer often disappoints them. It’s driving down childhood highways towards Leiper’s Fork .. over the hills, passing the horses farms to the place that gave birth to my imagination, where freely it ran wild. A place where anything beyond my backyard was an adventure. Little did I know where that life beyond my backyard would take me. There are places that left me in amazement and wonder, hoping to some day return. But those places are beyond count. How could I choose?

Yes I’ve been incredibly lucky to live the life I’ve lived. To see the spectacular places that you stand in awe of and think, ‘how is this my life?’. I’m constantly having those moments. Yet the place I ache for, is the place I wanted to leave. And as much as the I love atmosphere that was the home. It’s what happened in this place.

My roots aren’t in the South. My family is from the Midwest. I don’t have that southern pride.. nor do I have any connect with the place which gave birth to my parents. My nostalgia isn’t for the place itself as much as I find it beautiful. There are places I’ve seen that surpass the beauty of Williamson County by far and wide! Those hills can’t compete with the Swiss Alps. And Center Hill Lake can’t compare to the blue waters of the Aegean Sea. And the history.. well standing on the Acropolis in front of the Parthenon goes back a bit further than the Civil War. Not to discredit these things rather what I am expressing: So what does it leave you with? {to the left: my parents when they were younger and dating} The people. It’s my family that I ache for. My sweet authentic friends. My childhood. Those tender memories when you didn’t know the weight of the world and the wickedness that man is capable of. I ache for the sweetness of dancing in the living room to Michael Jackson and Billy Joel, my sisters and I twirling around. I ache for Sunday drives and brunch with Dad. I ache for sitting on the counter as my mom bakes and teaching us. I ache for enjoying the outdoors playing music with friends, laughing and just doing life together. Yet, I don’t live in the past of what I miss. I am very much here in the present.

What is all this showing me? What is that ache so deep within me? For years now I’ve crossed oceans- I’ve made a living at doing so. Not for a second would I take back all I’ve come into in my short life. No regrets. Just an ache.

As I sit in my home in McKinney, TX.. on a no name highway.. surrounded by no name towns. I’m a nobody. No one knows my name or really even cares to know. Rather than think that this place has nothing to offer me or I have nothing to off ‘it’… I remember that all of these places have become a part of who I am, the fabric of my being. And for me the core of it lays at home. I don’t know ‘what comes next’. For some, that may be a scary thought but where I find rest and so much comfort is remembering that when God puts a vision in us, He won’t take it from us. He continues to work in us; through us. There is a scripture that speaks of the ‘parched land will become pools of water..’. How I love this image. For so long, that vision has had to do with travel and nations. It still does. He’s allowed it to come into being and continues to. I look forward with anticipation and excitement as to what the new day brings. But I too look forward to sharing in that, hopefully, with a family. That the deepest thing I ache for isn’t to fill my passport with stamps that it may read like an atlas but to give life as my parents having given to me. Amazing how your life can feel like it comes full circle while continuing to propel you forward. I have no idea if I’ll ever live back in Nashville- how I’d love to. But God has a bigger picture I’ve to really, only tantalizing glimpses. But I also know that when we seek him, He does delight in blessing us with the desires of our hearts. How amazing is that?!





So as I sit here let my heart focus on what is not rather all that is. To revel in the greatness and grandeur of God’s plan- one which I could never have invented for myself. To be grateful for all that has been laid before me with my heart and purpose in mind. I look forward to my trip home not for the place itself rather to savor my time with my family and precious friends. And remember that Tennessee.. you’ve been good to me.

Bittersweet end to the season

Occasionally I lead trips to places I’ve yet to visit myself! I know you ask: How can you lead people to a place you’ve never been? You get a really good map, memorize landmarks and praise God for Google Street View!! ;) On this past trip, we spent several days in a gorgeous valley nestles between the Austria Alps. What a stunning place! I fear my photos do not begin to capture the beautiful and grandeur of this place. Waking each morning to a postcard view and each night, falling asleep to the sound of mountain water gushing through the creek below my window and the soft silhouette of the mountains in the distance. This was a piece of heaven on earth.



For three days the kids got to ski and snowboard up on the Stubaital glacier and the afternoons were spent hiking up the many trails into the mountains, running around the alpine meadow, walking into the little village of Neustif or just enjoying the wonderful hotel where we were staying. Typically my tours take me through major cities, so when I am able to venture outside major cities, it is sweet music to my heart.

This trip also marked the end of my travel for the season. Originally, I was scheduled for several more tours but came down with pneumonia once again. It was bittersweet in that I wasn't ready for this to be my last tour for the season yet at the same, I was grateful to not be crossing an ocean again for awhile. Often I am asked when speaking of my job, “ do you ever get tired of it”? If you ask me this after I’ve come off a 13+ hour flight, several airports, crossing time zones, my body aching and 30 hours of no sleep.. then yes, I do get tired- of traveling. {To the left: London's Heathrow Airport Terminal 5} Ask me when I’m sitting at dinner surrounded by several precious students sharing with me about their lives, laughing while eating in Rome.. then, no- I never tire of it! This past trip had a mix of those moments- those things which I’m happy to never have to do again- 13+ hour flights and London’s Heathrow airport at 5am to tender moments while a student open their heart to me, and in turn I’m able to love them in that place, I pray that God speaks through me and that I don’t just leave them with empty words.

Over the years, working with students, I’ve grown more and more perceptive to what resonates within them verse where I see the eyes rolls and a shutting down of their hearts. I see that more than ever their biggest struggle is trying to figure out who the heck they are let alone what a relationship with God looks like. You speak to their hearts by loving them where they are at, allowing them to just be and love them in that place.. not focusing on who they can be in the future but seeing them as they are, just as God sees us. He doesn’t look at us and say ‘I see potential in you kid’ but He loves us exactly as we are: fallen, broken, stubborn, prideful, confused.. I can go on as the list is endless! Rather He looks at us with compassion. He pleads for our hearts and He will go after them! So when I spend time with these precious students.. My desire is for them to not feel like they aren’t good kids, or the ‘beware of walking this path’ talk rather by sharing my heart, my struggles, being authentic with them- and that my life is walking in grace.. seeing the gifts God has given me to serve others, not to look to just serve myself. You invite them into this walk. It's a special moment to share in. This is why i do what I do. Not to just travel, see amazing places, etc.. but to be a part of sharing in this incredible life God has given us, to walk in grace and love with compassion.



A wonderful ministry that does this well- loving students exactly where they are and breathing life into them- Daystar Ministries in Nashville TN. I'm beyond grateful for how they loved me all those years in which I was a part of a girls group that met once a week. For the first time, I felt not only accepted but embraced in my brokenness. They loved me for me. And they were a safe place to share in this. I can't tell you how that kind of love changed me. Of course my parents did this as well- but as a pre-teen/teenage girl, the last thing you want is advice from your parents. ;) So it is for them that my heart beats for these students.. because I was so loved, I hope that God directs me in bringing encouragement and comfort. This scripture is a reminder to me: "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." 2 Corinthians 1:3-4.

Easter in Greece & Turkey

Athens. Monastiriki District with a view of the Acropolis

Island of Mykonos outside an orthodox church on Good Friday.

Once again I was blessed to spend Easter in Greece. It happened to be the weekend I was with a group leading a tour throughout Greece. The focus of the trip being on the early Church and the Apostle Paul. Part of the tour is spent on a cruise visiting Mykonos, Rhodes, Patmos and Ephesus Turkey.

And so on Easter morning, we were up before the sun for the early morning shore excursion to Patmos. Half willingly at 6am, we disembarked by little boats. As we boarded, the sun was beginning to rise. Sitting there on the boat, watching the distance between our ship and the little boat where we found ourselves rendered speechless grew as the sun made itself known it all it’s glory. Easter morning. Those of us on the boat sat in revered silence drinking in this moment.



We spend the early hours of the morning on the island of Patmos where the John the Baptist is said to have had the vision to write Revelations. Later in the day, our ship took us to Turkey where we toured ancient Ephesus and watched flying carpet demonstrations while drinking apple tea. Turkey is a country that sits on the edge of familiarity and uncomfortably. Now I’ve only visited a tiny piece of this massive country, which is said to be close to 71 million people- making it larger than any European country. It’s considered Asia Minor. It’s not quite Europe. It’s not quite the Middle East nor is it Asia. Ok so let’s say Eurasia ;) I’d love to see more of this country, especially Istanbul, Ankara, Izmir and to go south along the coast.



This ended my last tour in Greece for the season. If you ever have the opportunity to visit Greece- not just the islands, but the mainland- it's beyond worth it. This country is something to experience! Athens, as you can read in my previous posts from last year, is beyond a paint job yet because it's not what you expect, it leaves the door wide open for a great adventure!

The Lake District, Wordsworth and Daffodils

"Daffodils" (1804)
I wander'd lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
By William Wordsworth (1770-1850).

The art of ignoring and the gift in loving

It was written somewhere once that there are two things that pierce the human heart: beauty and affliction. In one your heart swells and the other you feel it break.. The other night as I sat on the number 2 Uptown Express train waiting for it to take me back to 42nd Street, I experienced both such feelings in a colliding moment. When I stepped on the train, it was the intense smell that I first noticed coming from a corner. There sat a woman all but crumpled against the wall and seat. She seemed a mass of brown clothing, her face was covered and wearing mis-matched shoes, she struggled to stand up. The majority of those on the train sat to the other end of the car aware but pretending to not notice her. Because this is not an uncommon site, no one stared or made exaggerated hand movements, no comments were made or none that I could hear from where I sat. Yet the silence and choice of seat said enough. In the moment my eyes befell her, I felt my heart break for her.. with her covered face as if her shame kept her from showing herself. Only a moment later did I allow my eyes to leave her and looked ahead out the train window. Across the platform stood two lovers in a public yet very intimate embrace, gaze and then long kiss. My heart swelled at this site and seconds later the train was traveling north to Herald Square. There was something deep in me that moved with a longing for the same experience. Yet it was here that the woman shifted her way out the train doors. Her movements reminded me of a wounded animal, when realizing they have but a moment to escape- for just that moment, they have energy. As the train continued on, I watched this woman whose face was hardly visible make her slow uneven way to her next corner of this city. What she left behind was not just a overwhelming smell, not just the crumbs and dirt that reveal how long she had been there… but a broken heart in my chest. A reminder that she is a human being with a heart and soul just like me.. not a term or a condition.. not a statistic or a lost case. But a woman who could be loved and is loved. But who stops to know her name.. her story? Give her hope and an hand?

There are those who believe that those without a home choose this life for themselves and prefer this. Who really chooses to be without a home.. without someone to love them and to love in return.. to not feel a part of this life? Living such independent lives apart from our Creator wasn’t what God created us for. When you begin to be see how much we were created for community and relationships.. These people may not have had a choice but to give up their home, have no one to turn to who will love them where they are at and extend help. Maybe they did get some help. Maybe they choose to give up. Those of us who’ve been privileged to be provided for or who know that someone has our back should never take this for granted. Life is not fair. It does not consider the individual nor does it show grace, show mercy and love unconditionally. And those who chose to just give up.. all I can say is someone must have given up on them. And they lost hope.

How is it that we can support humanitarian efforts across the globe in Darfur.. Myanmar.. Israel.. Mumbai.. yet disregard those before our very eyes? I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with supporting the causes that reach these places as it is incredibly needed! Yet, the real crisis is within us when we stop and only seek to help ourselves.. it ends there. We’ve been creating to be life giving.. not life-consuming. In scripture it says ‘what is it to gain the whole world but lose our souls in the process..?’ I’m the first one to be honest in that it’s easier to just help from afar.. we keep ourselves comfortable never touching the reality of the lives we see so broken, just being grateful that is not us. To keep a safe distance from what makes me risk myself, really give of myself and trust in God. It has been a process of understand of what it looks like to step outside of what I'm comfortable with and only willing to do if it fits into a certain idea or moral code based off of.. what? You need to have discernment which is incredibly important just as it is to wrestle with, question and seek to understand what any of this means and what it looks like to live in this place vs just living in the idea of it. Hence we justify ourselves because we've thoughts about something or are going to do something about this or that yet we've never taken any real action.

A New York photographer Lorenzo Dominguez, recently created a series of photos called: The Art of Ignoring (http://www.flickr.com/photos/lorenzodom/sets/72157601182601638/) I know I’ve been guilty of trying to perfect the art of ignoring. But I can’t. I’m not sure what it looks like to not ignore or pretend.. or just to walk by. Rather what it looks like to reach out.. not being conditional in how I give, how I love. God is not conditional with us. He doesn’t bless us according to what we deserve or not rather takes joy in giving. And who is to say that what one chooses to do or spend is better or worse? We are called into loving others. So many people say that this life is about Love.. but what is your idea of love? What does it look like to love others and to be loved in return? Do you know the greatest love of all? It’s humbling.. to know there is nothing more or less we can do that God won’t love us more or less. Again.. to live in that place where you love.. give.. show grace and mercy regardless or who is or isn’t deserving.. because you’ve been so loved, lavished up with grace and mercy and knowing that each day is a gift.

I pray for God to break my heart for what breaks His. When you start to pray this.. He will. You are given a glimpse into how far east of Eden we really are.. so far from where we are intended to be. At the same time, you will experience such joy, such gratitude that your heart is swollen and overflowing. You cannot help but to share this with others not wanting to keep it for yourself. You begin to feel deeply in a way never felt before and all over a sudden, you seen through new eyes. I dare you to pray this because when you do.. you will feel you heart break.. but also swell in the same moment.

Below are a few websites regarding homelessness and those who provide refuge and help:

Coalition for the Homeless: http://www.coalitionforthehomeless.org/index.html
The Bowery Mission: http://www.bowery.org
EDAR http://www.edar.org/index.html
Sacramento Loaves and Fishes: http://www.sacloaves.org/
http://www.takepart.com/blog/tag/homeless-families/

Photos from my last Europe tours

Twice now I've been incredibly blessed to witness this gorgeous sunset over the Bay of Corinth from the modern city of Delphi. This was from the balcony off my hotel room. The apostle Paul once sailed across this bay. It's moments like this I am in such awe that I get to be a part of all this!



The view looking back towards the popular skiing town of Arahova. It is not only popular with people who are skiing on Mt Parnasos but known for it's woven rugs and clothing. Great little village!



Students from Wheaton Academy as we walked through the lower city of ancient Delphi. It was a gorgeous morning watching the sunrise over the Ionian Sea as we made our way up the mountain.



Looking down one of the main roads leading to the Pantheon in Rome. Notice the full moon overhead and one of the best little cafe's to get coffee in the city: Il Caffe Tazza D'oro.



Another incredible group of students, this time from Wheaton Academy. Here are all the girls on their first day in Florence, Italy.



Sitting in a little restaurant just outside the Ancient Agora.. it was an unusually warm day for early Jan. People were out walking around in the markets and in the midst of the seas of people, I heard this strange singing.. almost chanting coming from somewhere. As the sound came closer, I saw that it was a man who pushed a sort of .. musical box.. icon.. in a moment he looked at me as I photographed him. Part of me wished I had understood what he was singing and what his cart represented.. yet i'm glad its left to my always wondering..



A few of the students from Houston Christian School which took us from Rome Italy across the Adriatic Sea to Athens Greece. Here they are at top the Acropolis in Athens.



The view looking down on Ancient Delphi. This is an incredible site to visit with an even more fascinating history. Understanding what the ancient Greeks believed really helps to better understand the language used in scripture when speaking to the Greeks. So incredibly interesting and what a breath-taking place!

Immigration within Europe: Beginning thoughts

As the last remaining embers of my time in Greece begin to fade, the few things remain deny me sleep. My body continues to keep in rhyme of Athens time and I find myself drinking Greek filtered coffee and enjoy a pear I happened to stuff in my bag from breakfast that last morning.. making the long journey with me. But it’s not so much the fact that I’m waking at 4am wide eyed and ready for the day rather its all that I am attempting to process through, sifting through the images my mind’s eye has captured in time.. trying to make sense of it all, see the bigger picture. Yet this big picture isn’t a beautiful one, in fact.. its crushing. The more I seek to know, to understand, to make some sense of.. the more I’m convinced that the real problem in this world is not the economic crisis.. rather it is that of the human condition.. the cries of humanity is on its knees.

The face of Europe is changing.. and faster than many are willing to admit. In almost every, if not all countries in Europe, the death rate is higher than the birth rate. It’s a dying continent. This creates big problems for countries that are very depend on the social welfare of their government. You have smaller younger generations having to support a rapidly aging population. The problem there is that this younger generation is not finding work not are they having children. I’ve come to learn that there is a village in France, the mayor of the town is paying the women to encourage them to have babies and to commit to keep them in school in town until a certain age in order to ‘guarantee’ the survival of the community. That’s incredible!

So how are these countries to live on..? Or maybe the first question to address is why are the Europeans not having children or only one child? There is so much to speak on this issue, which I will save for another entry. Yet there are those who are having children, and lots of them: Immigrants.

This is a massive issue to tackle in even being able to speak about, understand and comprehend. I’ve not only experienced first hand this reality throughout Europe, but I’ve spent time speaking to various immigrants over the years, spent endless hours pouring over articles, news reports and reading first hand accounts. It’s amazing to study migration of people. Look at the end of the 19th century. Europeans were moving out of this continent in droves. A hundred years later, droves are pouring into Europe from all over.

NPR recently did a weekly series on morning edition called: Racism in Europe (http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=99220519) and MSNBC has put together a wonderful website addressing the changes facing Europe through the eyes of immigrants:( http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19227137 ) Please take the time to watch the story on Kingsley from Africa.


Where I tend to lose my composure is when I read and watch the individual stories following the journey of a migrant/refugee from their home to Europe. Why do they leave for Europe? For each of them there is a cruel reality I hope I never experience in my lifetime. Each leave hopeful of a life better than what they’ve lived. Their families either gone or are encouraging of their trip for they too have hope for their child, parent, brother or friend to make a better life. This journey takes months, years even. So many die in the process. While in Greece, the last day I was there I saw images of a 13 years old boy from Iraq who had buried to death from hiding under a truck trying to get on a ship to Italy. They are at the mercy of those strangers willing to help them make their way to Europe, their beacon of hope. Why this is hard to watch is because of the reality that I know awaits them in Europe…

I think about how I moved to Italy because I wanted to experience another culture, learn a language and do something that pushed me to see a world bigger than my own. I chose to leave and looked at is as an experience to put under my belt. I didn’t have to leave because I was being pushed out of my country. I didn’t leave because living conditions were so horrible that I had to risk everything in hopes to have something. It’s humbling to recognize how God has allowed this for my life and continues to show me Grace.

There was a night while living in Florence that I was with a Albanian friend of mine. He was illegal living in Italy. I remember him lying on the wall along the Arno river. I don’t remember what we were talking about except that I remember looking at him as he lay there pinching that place between your eyes and the bridge of your nose. Tears slid down his face and he said ‘this life is no good. This life is no good.’ He worked every day of the week and two different jobs, manual labor. Here I was in Italy acquiring a language and a new life because I wanted the experience. Here he was living in Italy speaking three language to survive and . At that time, I couldn’t understand really what he was feeling. How naïve I was. Now I think back to that night and my heart breaks. I want to be a voice for those who live in the margins and are denied so much because of where they are from.

Once again I’ve created rabbit trails with my thoughts. I’m trying to make sense of all that I’ve seen and experienced. I’m not sure how He will continue to work through me with all this but I know He will in big ways. More to come on immigration in Europe.

Patras Greece, the land of the living ghosts

Patras Greece- the port we where docked.

The simple pleasures are not wasted after days such as these.. how grateful I was to discover a bathtub when opening the door the room I would call home for a few nights.. yet it was only tonight that I was able to sink into the hot waters soak my aching body. For a good hour I lay there not moving.. just allowing myself to feel.. rest. Travel takes a toll on your body.. the pulling of luggage down blocks of cobble stone streets, up several flights of stairs, in and out of coaches, taxis, trains.. the endless miles of walking on uneven ground, climbing to higher places so that I may be seen and heard.. the cold wet Europe weather .. the rain that seem to come at you from the side.. the stuffy basement rooms of restaurants.. the long hours sitting in uncomfortable seats on coach rides to airplanes and trains.. my feet would sigh relief upon taking off my shoes and my body rejoices under the warm waters.. yet.. as I lay there tonight, I thought about the images I saw upon leaving Patras Greece.. and my lamenting ceases and seem trival in light of the horrors lived by those who wait in the shadows to cross, the clinging hope of a better life…? This may have been there hope when arriving to Greece.. only to be met by an even crueler reality.

Patras is one of the largest ports in the Mediterranean Sea. It is the gateway to Western Europe from Asia Minor.. the Middle East.. and the Balkans. As we exited the ship, the rain came down hard.. spotting the coach, I ran as I could with the burden of luggage only to be warmly greeted by dear Felija, the guide whom I befriended last season.. aka my Greek mama ;) All of us boarded our coach, our sea legs eager for the land of the Hellenis.. The Greeks. As we began to pull out of the docks, all lined with massive cargo ships, my eyes were drawn to the men standing in the shadows.. under the long ago closed store fronts. Only skeletons left to provide shelter from the storm. Block after block.. men lined in front of these old shops.. wet.. waiting.. watching. Who were they? Where were they from? Why are they all waiting? Why so many..? What's happening here..? They're so wet and without anything other than the clothes on their back.. block after block.. so many of them. Our coach would stop at a light and through the rain spilling over the window, I met their eyes. I needed them to know I acknowledged them.. I won't turn away. I won't pretend I don't see..

Last night I lay awake.. occupying my thoughts were these men, living like ghosts. I spent hours researching their story as to what brought them there.. what was happening in Patras. Most of these men are from Afghanistan.. Iraq.. along with neighboring countries.. some from Senegal, Algeria and Morocco. A new wave of immigrants. Some are refugees; having to leave not out of choice but pushed out and others migrants; those who choose to leave willingly hoping for better life elsewhere. But the line between these are blurred. Those coming from the Afghanistan and Iraq are given asylum here in Europe yet very few in the EU actually allow this to be. Even those who enter legally, after time without proper paperwork, they become illegal and meet the fate of some many others.

In Greece only 0.6% of the 25,000 allowed asylums actually gain this. The rest live in limbo. Coming from countries that have known war for more than 25 years without cease.. have crossed so far giving everything they have to escape for the hope of something better. Yet they are met with so much advisory as the economic situation here worsen more so than in the US. Work is scarce. So they come here.. to the gateway looking for those who may smuggle them in.
These men journey so far, and even the journey to this point is months, even years in the process.. that only ends with another wall. Another night goes by without the hope of crossing.

I came to learn they return to living in the largest shantytown in Europe. Thousands of men squat in horrible conditions.. no electricity.. no plumbing.. no food.. no work for money.. diseases runs rampit and all living in very cramped rooms. Because prisons and detainment camped are at full capacity, there is nowhere to put them. Othen the countries they come from won’t take them back. The police who do catch these men often turn to beating and breaking their legs or arms in order to prevent them from being able to cross or work. They are treated worse than the stray dogs and cats that I see freely roam the country of Greece. They are treated worse than animals. They are denied existence.



photos by Reuters

My heart breaks at the sight of this. I went to sleep that first night after being made known to this in tears praying for these men.. it's just not fair. My thoughts drift to the first year living off Gaston… Ross Ave in Dallas. One morning I turned one street too soon towards the freeway. It was on that road I first saw something similar to this.. Mexicans waiting.. I couldn't understand why all these men would be standing around, outside abounded buildings or night clubs so early in the morning. Someone had to explain to me that they were waiting to be picked up and given work for the day. This was new to me.. yet even these men have a better life than what is met at Patras.

As I write this.. I forget that my body ever ached.. or that I was tired.. or getting sick.. or worn out.

It's not enough to just be grateful for our blessings.. we have to be motivated.. to serve. Because of what has been given to us.. we are compelled to reach out. When we begin to understand the enormity of the grace which God has lavished upon us, it inspires worship within us.. deep gratitude. From that, it begins to eliminate the stubbornness and self pity… and humbles us.. what comes of that we are moved to serve.. to give. Because we’ve been given so much.

One of the pastor’s at my church, Josh Patterson once said: “there is one thing that makes those of us living in our sanctification.. those of us that believe and walk in faith. . there is something that makes us different from the rest of the world. Anyone can feed the homeless, help the sick, build homes and schools, spend time playing with kids, anyone can cross an ocean and dig wells.. but you know what the world can't do..? Give grace. Because of what God has given us, because of the gift of grace.. we can extend grace to others.. we are so changed by this that we are moved to serve.” Read through all of Ephesians, but especially chapters 1 & 2.. also watch the film Amazing Grace.

It is late and I should sleep.. these are my thoughts at 2am.. in my little corner hotel room off the Saronic Gulf here in Athens..

Pray for these men.. who are faceless.. nameless.. without a voice.. God has put this burden on me and allowed me to see.. again not to just be aware.. but to be moved..