Dance Toward Freedom | Water Street Dreams | Refugee photographer
I was given the opportunity to submit
written words alongside images
taken up at Peninsula State Park,
to an art gallery event called "Culture,"
about a dear refugee friend of mine,
that your heart would be moved toward
the global refugee crisis
and not left indifferent or uninvolved.
Without a doubt, story reveals hearts.
Story puts faces to issues.
And story heals.
THE Dance Toward Freedom
Not Without Cost
To know her is to know
that the vibrant dance in her soul
must
have always been there.
God whispered gently in her ear
that her day was approaching.
that her day was approaching.
The waltz for a freer tomorrow was unfolding.
while laden with sorrow and loss,
started as a fight for justice,
when courage to leave her home culture,
welled up deep
within.
In search for escape from a wildly abusive husband,
feeling ‘caged’ and unseen,
her plan quickened.
Knowing her male-dominate culture wouldn’t afford her
protection,
she gathered up her children,
packed a simple bag,
packed a simple bag,
tucked into her heart the beauty of her culture,
the memories of her lifetime,
and murmured forever goodbyes to all she had ever known
–her land, her home, her culture, her family.
The weight of a forever goodbye.
Not without
cost.
By cover of night and fear for their lives,
she journeyed with her two children and younger brother
up and over that last mountain range.
Soldiers lurked in darkness,
aiming to kill.
aiming to kill.
Stumbling precariously close to cliff’s edges
while balancing a child in arms.
Collapsing in exhaustion.
Terror nipping at heels,
motivating every step,
motivating every step,
one foot in front of the other,
hour after hour.
Desperation driving actions.
Headlong across that invisible line,
relief floods in as Turkey opens its borders.
Turkey said yes to refugees.
A country she would call home for years.
Her dance toward
freedom still in motion.
Not without
cost.
Navigating a new culture and a new language.
Starting over.
Completely over.
A solo dance of sorts.
The dance toward
freedom was in motion.
Not without
cost.
Hard work.
Persistent trips to the United Nations office,
humbly crying out for a listening ear,
a compassionate heart.
Hunting for Mercy.
Hope.
Freedom.
Freedom.
Reviewing past terrors in efforts to prove status
as a legitimate refugee.
as a legitimate refugee.
Interviews ad nauseam.
Paperwork onslaught.
The dance toward
freedom;
prolonged, strenuous.
prolonged, strenuous.
Not without
cost.
An angel in her eyes.
Housing. Feeding. Tending. Listening.
Whatever you do to the least of these.
An introduction
to Jesus Freedom.
Not without cost.
Her dance cost
Him everything.
Two years in the making.
One ticket short given U.S. refugee regulations,
her mid-twenties,
Middle Eastern brother was left behind.
Another painful goodbye.
More loss.
Dancing toward
freedom.
Not without
cost.
Touching down on American soil one 2015 winter’s day,
with her two children held tight,
freedom felt closer.
freedom felt closer.
New friendships forged.
Support systems in place.
Hope
proffered.
Unfamiliar music.
Varied rhythms.
Novel melodies.
Unusual
tunes.
Certainly not without heartache and loss.
Not without hardship and sadness.
Not without fear.
Not without
cost.
But her new dance partner.
Oh her new Dance
Partner.
Beautiful.
Solid.
Grand.
Safe.
Her Forever
Partner.
Unbridled Joy.
Forgiveness granted frees her soul.
Trust rooted in knowing her Dance Partner’s
trustworthiness.
A faith that moves mountains.
Dancing toward
Freedom.
And just like that,
her dance to freedom became
her dance
IN freedom.
A Dance IN
Freedom.
The direct
result of the cost in her journey.
A dance IN
freedom.
She owns this dance.
She lives this dance.
She loves this
dance.
A dance IN
freedom.
Full of Love.
Full of Joy.
Full of Hope.
Full of Transformation.
Full of Community.
Full of Gospel.