The past few days, the Border Perspective team and I have faced many challenges — some expected and some unexpected. Whether they be emotional, physical or spiritual challenges, each of the strong and capable leaders I’ve spent the last two weeks with has prayed for extra guidance, wisdom and health this week in particular — and I have, as well.

On Tuesday, I talked with an 8-year-old girl named Islan, who just arrived in the U.S. with her mom and 2-year-old brother, Javier. They traveled for exactly 26 days in order to get here.

A woman came with a team from near Harrisburg, PA to serve and learn about the local community. She has a tattoo that says “f— the foreigners” and early in the week asked one of my fellow leaders, “Why are we letting these f—ing criminals into our country?”

The week-and-a-half of nonstop work finally caught up to me and weakened my immune system, and I tested positive for COVID for the first time on Thursday.

While I did not expect to have to spend part of my time in South Texas in isolation, I did expect to have to process emotional and heartbreaking stories, and I expected to come across individuals who may have a different — and, frankly, less educated — perspective on the immigration crisis than I do. The contrast between these two individuals — Islan from Nicaragua and the woman from Pennsylvania — is striking. How could someone, who was born and raised in one of the most privileged countries in the world, nonchalantly group an innocent 8-year-old and her family with cartel leaders and human traffickers? How do you correctly respond to someone who believes isolation and exclusion is better than offering hopeful individuals and families safety and respite from violence, food scarcity and poverty?

From what I’ve discovered, the answer is through empathy. Instead of immediately judging this person based on her beliefs, I can instead try to understand where she’s coming from — what her home environment was like, or the culture of her hometown, or what her parents’ beliefs were. I can try to understand that while she lives in a privileged country, she may not have grown up with that privilege. We are all broken people, and her brokenness may manifest itself in a different way than mine.

Challenges inevitably bring about growth. And that’s what I believe God encourages us to pursue, and what I — along with these teams — have come to South Texas looking for. Challenges aren’t necessarily negative either, and often present unexpected opportunities for hope to grow.

Though weary and still facing hurdles ahead, Islan expressed hope in her family’s situation. This was their second time attempting to plead asylum, but the first time actually making it onto American soil — which, to them, is a victory.

Later in the week, the woman from Pennsylvania spoke during our morning devotional sessions about how just as Jesus cares for the needy, the poor and the widowed, she believes he would also care for the immigrant. She also asked me about sponsorship and what it takes to become a sponsor for someone interested in pleading asylum in the U.S.

Despite the inconvenience it has presented to the other leaders and the unideal symptoms I’m experiencing, time in isolation has allowed me ample time to rest, process and pray — something I’m truly grateful for in this moment.

With each of the next four weeks likely come more challenges, and it will be wonderful to see how God uses these situations to encourage growth, questions and surprising opportunities. I hope to continue to share stories and thoughts as he works in me, as well as those around me, during our time in South Texas.

Much love,

Katia

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Katia is serving in South Texas from June 19th – July 29th, 2022 as part of our Leadership-Development Program. Her ministry involvement consists of photojournalism work, serving alongside local organizations in South Texas, and supporting our mobilization summer program.