My experience working with the Memphis refugee population began in the fall of 2010, as the school year began and I welcomed with some relief the scheduled existence that most moms crave toward the end of each summer, and as I ushered all the blissful chaos that is summertime out the door, I did what I’ve done every year since my children started school-I embraced another opportunity to learn something new while serving my community in some way. I spent their primary school years serving at our school and at our church. As they moved into their middle school years, I began to search for service opportunities in our surrounding community and found myself volunteering several years for a startup non profit organization dedicated to serving families of children with severe disabilities. This gave me some understanding of all the toil that goes into an organized attempt to meet needs that simply won’t be met any other way. That understanding has given me a deep sense of gratitude for and desire to help those who have the courage to try.

I’ve spent this past year helping teach ESL to refugees and observing, then assisting Jamie as she has moved fearlessly, resolutely among them, meeting them where they live, examining every aspect of their lives and their struggles to resettle. I’ve watched as she has built relationship after relationship with refugee families, case workers, administrators at agencies and organizations dedicated to serving the various needs of the refugee community, developing a comprehensive understanding of this community she is so committed to helping, to loving. As she reached the inevitable conclusion that an organized effort is necessary to adequately meet some of the needs of the most challenged refugees, I agreed to join her, to support, and to encourage her.

Anyone who knows me well can tell you that I’ve suffered my fair share of personal heartache and struggled to overcome obstacles resulting from childhood experiences. There are deep scars that may never completely heal. But very little can top many of the horrors a refugee has experienced in his or her lifetime. As I’ve sat with these beautiful women and their children, week after week, watching as they labor to grasp a new language, to hold a pencil and form words on paper for the first time, left raw by unimaginable experiences and large-scale loss, by years of poor nutrition, so unsophisticated, so naive, I frequently find myself engulfed by waves of gratitude for all the blessings I have been given. Especially the current blessing of being involved in this work.

Despite their circumstances, all that they’ve suffered, they light up my spirit with their smiles, laughter, colorfulness, and I am drawn back, again and again by the wonder of it all. By the fascination of watching them learn the alphabet, and learn how to write, and how to count, and learn how to tell time, and understand a calendar, and ever…so…gradually…begin to grasp just a few of all the complexities of an education that, for me, happened so long ago, I take it for granted. By the simple wonder I feel when I watch Jamie figure out what they’re trying to communicate to us (I’m not very good at it). Even more still by the childlike trust they place in us to help them. Their bravery gives me courage. And the time I spend with them is a repeated lesson in humility and gratitude.

They are plopped into our virtual lap with wounds- physical, emotional, psychological- that go beyond what most of us can imagine. And because they’ve spent a decade or more eeking out an existence on meager rations, in filthy, crowded living conditions, with scarce access to health care or education, and a social system and customs very different from ours, they come to us broken, aching, exhausted, and barely up to the challenge of learning how to write their names for the first time, much less absorbing the nuances of an entirely different language and customs.

Yet, as I’ve learned, U.S. government assistance lasts a whopping FIVE months. So within five months they’re expected to learn enough of our language and how our world works to be employable, self-sufficient, and successfully resettled. We all know that government assistance rarely fully meets the needs of the poor and that it is ultimately up to the kindness and goodwill of individuals in each community to step in where government leaves off.

There are several wonderful organizations in our community who service refugee needs, and they’ve been at it for quite some time. There is free health care, ESL and GED programs, after-school and summertime day camps for the school-aged children, subsidized housing and food assistance programs. Even the resettlement agency goes the extra mile day after day, week after week, with cases that simply have not yet become self-sufficient. The case workers give from their own paltry salaries to meet needs of some of their clients that simply wouldn’t be met otherwise.

However, if you slow down a bit, and take the time to take a close look, you’ll find that despite the best efforts of all these organizations, there are still gaps in assistance that make successful resettlement a special challenge for a portion of the refugees who come to us. These are the most disadvantaged, bearing physical disabilities or raising large families without help. And yet their countenances are still full of light and hope and innocent wonder at their new surroundings, the possibilities for a new life here in America. They arrive so full of hope for their futures but the trials they face, here in the land of the free and the brave, are often overwhelming, and the lack of services to meet their special needs contributes to that. It would be so wonderful if we could close those assistance gaps and give them a resettlement experience that is truly healing and reflective of what we would wish for ourselves and our children. That is our goal with the work we want to do through Asha’s Refuge.

As you’ve probably already gleaned from Jamie’s posts, the needs are simple. More translators are needed and those who have a good grasp of medical terminology are especially coveted. Suitable transportation is needed for those who cannot use the public system due to physical disability or because they have several babies or preschoolers that they cannot, for one reason or another, be left at home. School-readiness help with preschool children is yet to be fully addressed. Above all is the need for advocates-individuals or small groups who are willing to reach out to, build relationships with, and act on behalf of refugee individuals or families. Consistent, loving encouragement from someone who is dedicated to a single refugee individual or family, someone who can and will help them navigate this strange new world is their most desperate need. Love, friendship, acceptance, assistance, encouragement-these are all things that advocacy can provide and are powerfully effective because they infuse hope and courage and, subsequently, goodwill.

So, as I continue along this path with Jamie, I pray that God will send us the right people to help us accomplish these goals. In fact, I ask God to just really show off! If you haven’t already, please add this ministry to your prayers. Please consider joining us! There are numerous ways to help. We need hearts that are open and hands and feet that are willing. If you’ve served in the mission field in a foreign country and would like to recapture some of the wonder of God’s presence and work there, then this work will most certainly do that. If you’ve wanted to serve in a foreign mission field but have never had the opportunity, this is your opportunity to experience something very similar without ever having to leave your own city. If you’ve been longing to do something that will have eternal value and lasting impact, this is your chance. The opportunity to befriend, act firmly on behalf of, learn from, and to simply LOVE people from all over the world is in your own backyard-no passport required!