Hope in the Unexpected: A Journey with Refugees
How It All Started
As I worked with the refugees, the words of Jeremiah 29:11 echoed in my heart:
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
But how could that be true for these refugees? They had nowhere to go, no clear path forward. My daughter, Ana, in contrast, had endless opportunities stretching before her. The injustice of it weighed on me. I knew I couldn’t just walk away.
2015
Return to Thailand
The next year, in 2015, I returned to Thailand—this time, to teach young adults. Again, Jeremiah 29:11 stayed on my mind. At first, I resisted it. Surely, this promise didn’t apply to them. But then I read the entire chapter. God had spoken those words to exiles, who were basically refugees in their day—people forced from their homeland, told to build, to plant, to make the place where they had landed prosper. Maybe there was a plan for them. Maybe I could help provide opportunities.
We Started Small
The group I was with taught basic business skills—helping the young women create something they could sell sustainably. They made sugar scrubs and learned how to paint nails. After we left, they kept the business going for a time, selling the scrubs to earn an income. It was a glimpse of possibility, of hope. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.
Closer to Home
In 2016, I felt drawn to serve refugees closer to home.
Our small group learned about Clarkston, Georgia, a community known as one of the most diverse places in America—a first stop for many refugees resettling in the U.S. My husband and I partnered with World Relief to form a Good Neighbor Team, ready to welcome a family from across the world.
That’s how we met a family—a mother, father, and four children from the Central African Republic. They had spent years in a refugee camp in Chad before arriving in Atlanta with a single suitcase. When our small group greeted them at the airport, that suitcase was nowhere to be found.
The next day, the airline delivered their missing bag. As we sat together in their small apartment, Khadijah, the mother, carefully opened it and pulled out a single piece of paper—a certificate in sewing education. Somehow, through an interpreter or maybe through Google Translate, she told us that she knew how to sew.
It felt like a divine connection. Someone had recently donated a sewing machine and fabric to our team. We brought it to her, unsure of what she would do with it. But every time we visited, we noticed something new—a handmade curtain, a pillow, small touches that turned their apartment into a home.
Finding Our Way
We had no idea what we were doing most of the time. We made mistakes.
Once, we collected over twenty pairs of donated shoes and proudly brought them to the Abakars, thinking we were helping. Months later, we found them untouched in a closet. Maybe they didn’t fit. Maybe they didn’t like them. But they hadn’t thrown them away—perhaps out of respect, or simply because it wasn’t in their nature to waste.
Still, we did what we could. We taught them how to use a thermostat, a vacuum, an alarm clock, a washer and dryer. We practiced English with them. And in the process, we learned just as much—about resilience, about dignity, about how small acts of kindness could restore hope.
Looking back, I see that Jeremiah 29:11 was never just a verse for them. It was for me, too. It was a call to step into the work God was already doing—to believe that even in the hardest places, there is a future worth building.
- Rebecca Bankey
President of 52 Coalition
Join Us In Creating Hope
The journey of a refugee is filled with uncertainty, but together, we can offer hope, opportunity, and belonging. Whether through mentorship, donations, or simply sharing their stories, you can make a difference.