"Estoy bien... Gracias a Dios"

When refugees come for their "entrance" interview, they are always asked a standard question of simply, "how are you?" This question follows the part of the interview when we invite the individual to share whatever circumstances they have endured en route to Ecuador. Often, there is a lengthy pause before we will receive a response. Their eyes typically move toward the window, toward the sky. This pause, this consideration, is heavy. But within moments, following a few deep breaths, they will redirect their eyes toward us, and time and time again, they will share that they are well, thanks to God.

These responses are honest, as ensured by their lengthy consideration. And their assessment that they are well, despite frequently lacking fundamental necessities, reconnects me with my most raw and primal humanity. 

After recounting horrific accounts and after detailing how little material items they possess, stating that they are well is a testament to resilience. Their words are chosen carefully and intentionally. Their words are powerful, and reveal much more than what they are formally articulating.

These assessments that they are well are quiet revolutions: stating that despite circumstance, they will go on. I am learning, with each repetition, that the heart of life is good. I am learning that real evil does exist, but so does real goodness. And I am learning about our capacities for joy. We can be wounded, we can be destitute, but our capacity to thrive can be restored. 

Relationship have proven to be huge motivators for refugees to search for better circumstance and to continue on. Caring for another, tending for their needs, leads people through difficulty. It's apparent in their stories, and it's apparent in their company: when you see a mother pick the choice piece of bread for their child, when you see a couple tightly squeeze clasped hands together, when you listen to a story of siblings refusing to leave the other's side. 

Truthfully, we need very little. This is a fact we experience most indisputably when in relationship. For example, when we are hungry, but know that our companion is hungry as well, we choose to half our portions, and are satisfied with considerably less. 

I believe, in the deepest part of my being, that we are created in the image of God. This image is an image of relationship: mother, spirit, child. Therefore, we are living into our missional purpose on earth when we care for another. Living into our calling has a generative energy -- rejuvenating for even the most parched souls. The persons sitting across the table from me in their entrance interviews, spilling stories of oppression and violence, are commonly wrapped up in relationship: with their families, with their significant others, with the divine. And it is these relationships that give resilience, it is these relationships that ensure their determination to continue on.

I've realized, time and time again, as I assess what basic needs our project can fulfill for these people, that they are truly the ones telling me what I need to thrive.

This week, I've had the privilege of exploring Ecuador with my family by my side. Each moment has been precious, even sacred. Having them here, experiencing my world, has been incredible. We've been indulging, but I realize that what has made this time rich has been their simple presence. I hold this reality with tenderness. I am incredibly, incredibly privileged -- this is a fact that has been made resoundingly clear this summer. One element of my privilege is my family. And I've realized this summer that my needs are very little-- but the company of my family, the engagement in relationship, is what keeps me rooted and what keeps me growing. 

And I am endlessly appreciative of this realization. 

All in all: I am well, and the heart of life is good, gracias a Dios.