We were called back into the refugee family's lives as their mother was diagnosed with cancer and quickly passed away.
We were fortunate to have been able to say a proper goodbye, share the Good News of Jesus with them in hardship in a very natural way, pray with the family, wail with the family, and protect the family.
To say this situation was a mess would be an understatement.
Days before the mother died, the eldest daughter, who was in charge of the mother's health care, turned 18 and ran away from home to escape potential abuse from her brother. This was due to a shame-culture mechanism whereby women are not allowed to date, but the daughter was dating.
She was aided by some well-meaning folks to get her to safety, but it created a maelstrom of other problems. The care of the mother fell to the next oldest sister, and that was a responsibility she was not ready for. Not only that but the well-meaning folks who helped her sister run away began to scheme to take all of the children away. I about lost my crap, if you know what I mean.
My wife and I for days would wail in agony before the Lord because this all just hurt so much. They are so dear to us, and to see the mother in pain without a proper diagnosis or treatment, to see the daughter run away, to see their own neighbors plot to destroy their family in the middle of this crisis while spiritually abusing them (trying to convert their children, secretely feeding them food that was against their religious diet) - well all of that is too much for a person with a heart to bear.
I went to my refugee resettlement organization and asked them to intervene as one of my fellow volunteers was beginning to scheme with the neighbors. They were very kind and understanding.
But God told us - I will take care of this situation with the neighbors. An immediate peace came over me. The next day, the mother died. It was an awful situation. The daughter who was still there was wailing at the top of her lungs - we could hear her from a block away. The tears we shed that night never seemed to end. Those moments we treasure, because as the family began to blame each other for what happened, we stepped in words of healing, which were accepted and we saw them take effect. The burial was the next day, and it too was a bleak affair. The daughter was not allowed to be at the burial ritual, but had to wait until it was finished. We held her as she watched from a distance and we prayed over her.
Then God told us something unthinkable - do not go to see them until I tell you. It was heartbreaking again, to not be able to love on them in their darkest hour. But, I understand why now. The neighbor was plotting, even during the funeral, as I received a call from a stranger asking me to help the family and the abuse problem that was voiced - they said the neighbor told them to ask me about it. We understand now (through a set of details I won't bother to explain) that God didn't want us to visit them because the neighbor was planning to use us - as she had been calling the cops on the family over and over again hoping to goad the teenage son into rage in front of the cops. Then God. Oh how I love those words - then God. Then God did something amazing.
I got a text from the refugee organization that they had found an insane amount of resources for this family to 1) move away from the scheming neighbor [they have since moved and are very happy to be safe from them] 2) the eldest boy accused of abuse is having counseling in his own language 3) the younger kids have a child psychologist to help them through the grief in their own language 4) funeral costs were covered 5) child care is provided. What?!
God is amazing. Listen to Him.
