"I’m scared that if I go into the kitchen, I’ll grab a knife and kill myself.”
Khalid spoke many times of suicide during the 90 minutes I spent with him on a recent visit. His story, like those of many other refugees who have fled the ongoing civil war in Syria, is one of deep loss and desperation.
One of his children, a 2-and-a-half-year-old twin son, was killed January 2013 when high winds knocked down the family’s tent in the refugee camp in Jordan where they were staying. A tent pole penetrated the boy’s chest in the middle of the night.
Friends sneaked the child’s body back into Syria in a water cooler so he could be buried beside his grandmother on a hillside near the border.
“Dying by a bullet or a bomb would have been easier,” said the 26-year-old father.
“We came from Syria to protect our women and children, to give them a chance to live. And there’s nothing here. No food. No water. … It’s cold. It’s wet. … There’s nothing. … Nobody listens to us. Nobody cares. … We don’t have anyone but Allah.”
My heart broke for this young man and his family. I wanted to tell Khalid not to give up. But before I could get the words out, he told me our visit had returned a glimmer of hope to his heart and soul.
My eyes began to fill with tears. I told him I would not forget him and that I would continue to pray for him and his family.
I pray that this young Syrian refugee family — and the hundreds of thousands like them — will come to be held snugly in the Father’s arms as they gain access to God’s Word and embrace Christ, their eternal Hope.
EDITOR’S NOTE — Name has been changed for security reasons. Joseph Rose serves in the Middle East as a photographer and videographer.
(IMB)
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