Indebted—that’s what I am. I sat with a Yazidi man and some of his extended family in a camp the other day and heard their story of fleeing ISIS to the place we sat today. Perhaps it all sounds like humanitarian hogwash to you because everyone says this when they visit the places of the world where people have so little—but try your best to hear me now.
They said they were grateful. And when I asked if they were mad at God for all that they had seen and all they had lost, they replied unanimously and without hesitation, “No? No?!”—as if my question were absurd. They agreed that God has taken care of them; and that they are grateful.
So I just sat in the quiet, looking at them looking at me—trying to give it some time to move from my head down to my heart.