An Immigrant’s Story

They were young, poor, and scared. However, they had love.  Joe loved his newlywed wife and he loved his first born son. He wanted to do what was best for them, and was willing to pay a price for it. With his wife and young child in tow, he fled his homeland looking for safety. 

The local political leadership was very corrupt. Their leader was brutal. Joe had heard the stories of how the dictator had put to death anyone he thought was against him or could somehow threaten his power. There was even talk of him being mentally ill. It would not be first, nor the last leader that struggled with mental illness. He manifested his rage by ordering the slaughter of children. No one in their right mind would kill little kids. Since he had all the power, the military obeyed his orders.

Joe was afraid for his family and they fled to more prosperous and safe country. They crossed over the boarder secretly. As refugees they had no rights and little opportunities, but they had hope. Hope will lead us to the unknown. Hope will keep us going, even in a place where we don’t know the language or the culture.


In time, the dictator died and Joe and his family came back to their own land. There they lived simple lives of faith. When the child grew to be a man he began to travel and experience life. But safety was not to be found. As a small child he fled persecution. Now the greatest force the world had ever seen was in power. They would not allow anyone to disrupt their power or will. The military came to his country, took it over, and implemented their own policies. Religious freedom was compromised, there was no freedom of the press or speech. As an ethnic minority, from a race of people that were tolerated at best, the young man was in danger.

He became a powerful leader among his own people. He was a tremendous speaker, able to attract thousands of listeners. He was both beloved and hated, as is always the case with those that seek to make the world a better place. He was arrested on false charges and was not given a fair trial. He was sentenced to death and there was nothing anyone could do about it. It was wrong, it was cruel, and it was reality. The forces felt threatened and they responded as most in power do, with violence. They killed the man, Jesus.

I thank God for this family of refugees that fled to Egypt and in time came back to Israel. I thank God that Jesus came and lived a life of a poor, traveling, teacher. I thank God that Jesus was willing to allow the Romans to nail him to the cross. No one would have believed the Savior of the world would come into a poor, refugee family. However, God’s ways are not our ways.