In October I was blessed to be able to travel to Greece. In the weeks leading up to the trip each time I told someone my destination their reaction was always the same, “oooh how nice!!” And my response was typically a half-smile accompanied by the word “well.”
You see I didn’t go to sit on a beach and work on my sunburn. I went to talk to people. I went to share hope in a hopeless place. I went to share about Jesus and His love.
The island I spent most of the time on was the Island of Lesvos situated just 4 miles from the coast of Turkey. Lesvos is home to an infamous refugee camp named Moria, a camp built for 2,500 people. When I went in October there were more than 13,000 people living in Moria and the surrounding hilly olive grove. As of my writing this my sources in the camp tell me that the number of individual souls, people with real stories, real names, real dreams, is now at an unfathomable 20,000.
One thing, of many, that stuck with me was the incredible contrast that I saw there on the island. If you were to look around and only see 95% of the island you would see an absolute paradise. The sea was clear and beautiful. The olives were plump and picturesque. The sky was clear, and the weather was neither too hot nor too cold. It was beautiful.
And then there was the camp.
The sights, the sounds, the smells. The fear, the pain, the hopelessness.
It serves as a picture of our world. There are great and wonderful beauties, and yet in the same world, there are great and terrible evils.
I am finding that writing this post is a lot harder than I had anticipated. The memories of my time in the camp, the people that I met, and the conversations that I had are all flooding back, and it is truly overwhelming. I will, in time, share more of those stories.
But for now, I have a simple message. Jesus loves.
Jesus loves the half-naked child that I saw playing with a rusty nail and splintered wood next to excrement.
Jesus loves the mother of 5 little ones who stands in line every day for hours upon hours in order to feed her family.
Jesus loves the father who told me his arms were sore from holding his sleeping children above his chest all night so that they didn’t get wet in their flooded tent.
Jesus loves the orphan kid who tried to steal water.
Jesus loves the two grandmothers who got in a fistfight over a piece of cardboard they intended to sleep on.
Jesus loves the 12-year-old who told me he can’t remember life before they left home.
Jesus loves the girl who put his trust in Him and was secretly baptized.
Jesus loves the wealthy person reading this on their phone, tablet, or computer.
Jesus loves the sinner saved by grace who is writing.
There is good news in the midst of all of this. God has a habit of using terrible circumstances for His glory and our good.
Pray that the Good News of the Gospel would shine bright in this darkness. And be willing to be used by God in whatever way He would choose.