“I, Too, am a Refugee” Personal Narrative
By Katie Vanderheyden October 17, 2007
Rain slammed down hard on Loring Park
It slammed the stories
Of the boy who’s face was blown off by a bomb
Of the girl who carried her brother
On her back
Everyday
To get medicine
Into my mind
The mud splashing the misery onto my feet
As the puddles of distant pain grew deeper
They flooded the guilt of the American Individual
The guilt of having freedom
Of having enough
There were 10,000 people in Uganda
Huddled in a field, he said
He got a call and went
They escaped
A rescue worker died trying to help
She gave her life
Puddles deepening
I’m sure I could die of self obsession
Here in America
In Darfur, in Chad, in Colombia
They want to be safe
To eat food
Suffering, we all are
Some more affluently than others
We have a lot of stuff
What about empty jars without water?
They have so many over there
Got to pump it from wells
If they have a well to pump from
I never see where my water comes from
Know I get thirsty
Know what it feels like to appear full
But to be empty
If their jars were full
Would they want more?
Don’t we need more than food and water?
Looks that way, here in America
When I watch TV
When I go to college
I do
Want more
I can’t sleep sometimes
Because its not enough
The food
The water
My affluent quality of life
It’s not enough for me
Fallen, Broken
We are
In Darfur, in Chad, In Colombia
Everywhere
Here, in America
Fighting, Despairing
We are
Unconsciously attracted to life
Hoping forever is real
Rest for our souls
Wanting to know the secret
Groaning for places that sparkle
From conversation to conversation
Heaven, Utopia, Nirvana…
Begging to be given everything we need
Or acting like we need nothing
Jesus Christ says his yoke is light
Come to him; says he will give us rest
Wasn’t sure if he was just my “homeboy” a “good man”
Or a liar
Stopped believing in the cultural Jesus
Wanted to know him
For real
Truth
Use to think he wanted just the good ones
Now I know Him
Know he likes to take the ones broken, crying
Messy and honest
Like me
Says he will see us in paradise
Not because we’re good enough
But because of his mercy
I am a refugee
From sin
From guilt
From hiding
From the weight of others’ eyes
Got so heavy, I laid my burden down
Still fighting, but not despairing
Persecuted, but not abandoned
Struck down, but not destroyed
His joy is going to be my strength
His joy, His strength
A free gift he says
But I want to act like I have
A wealth of knowledge and peace
Like I understand
But I don’t
Just know it felt real dark
And I got scared that the dark would take me
I needed a refuge
A rescue worker
Who would die for me
A free gift to
Everyone who is fleeing
Everyone who wants to escape
For all of the refugees
Who have nothing left but belief
I don’t feel free because of America
Or because I can eat, go to college, and be clean
Actually, I feel heavy chains here
Maybe there are chains are everywhere…
Maybe its because we’re all sinners—
We know not what we do
Offending a perfect God
Could we admit it?
Would we?
If we knew—
We could be completely accepted
Approved of
Lavished in grace
“Forgive them, Father—
They know not what they do,”
He prayed
But dancing with him
The one who made himself poor
Who loved prostitutes, outcasts, beggars
Like me
Laying my sin upon him
Like he’s my best friend’s ear
Being made new, scars erased
That’s where I feel the most free
For what he’s done now
What joy, what peace!
I am not who I use to be…
Never thought, never dreamed…
He’s come to free me
All I am is worth it to believe
Worth letting go of the past
Worth admitting I am weak
Worth it to start over
To see him live in me
Worth it to feel this true
This free
In my puddle, I can see that
I, too, am a refugee
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