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Treasures in the Dark

Light-in-the-Dark

COVID-19 is proving to be a deep, dark season. It was March 16th when we closed our office and began working remotely. The virus hadn’t yet hit the Fox Valley area so although our team was preparing, we weren’t really sure for what. We began praying, as individuals and as a team, for the refugee and immigrant communities we serve.

At World Relief Fox Valley, we serve 10 different immigrant communities and several hundred individuals per year. They come to us from Congo, Burma, Iraq and South Sudan, just to name a few. While we don’t know every person’s specific story, we do know that all have persevered through unimaginable circumstances. 

Many who have fled violence and poverty to come to the U.S. feel a sense of hope and opportunity when they arrive in the Fox Valley. No longer will their lives be measured by their ability to survive. Instead, opportunity has been restored, positioning many of them to thrive. Education, home ownership, business ownership — these new possibilities excite them, and they are eager to succeed and give back to the communities that have welcomed them.   

While the immigrants we serve face many challenges in achieving these dreams, it didn’t take long for us to realize COVID-19 would only add to the complexity of their lives and delay their journeys forward. Though our newcomer friends have overcome insurmountable obstacles, this uncharted territory posed a unique set of challenges for them to navigate. 

I remember thinking in those first days of the crisis, “It’s hard enough for Americans like me to wade through the ever-changing COVID-19 information. I can’t imagine trying to understand it in a new language and in a new home with new laws that I was still working to understand.”

With that in mind, in an effort to mitigate confusion and connect with those we serve, our team began reaching out to our clients shortly after we closed our office. We started with adults over 50, those who weren’t yet fluent in English and others we knew to be most at risk in these circumstances. We made phone calls and sent texts, asking people if anyone had gotten sick or if they needed anything. We also wanted to let them know how much we cared about them. 

Initially, their responses were nonchalant and unaffected: “This text is to let you know that everybody in the (Burmese) community is doing well and staying safe,” one response read. 

And so, we continued praying for their health and safety. Our prayers were answered with a resounding ‘yes’ for a while. But then we started hearing about refugees testing positive for COVID-19, families being quarantined and people being laid off. One of the first calls we received was from a group of people who all carpooled to the same worksite. They were all exposed to the virus and told to self- quarantine. We were able to ease some of their anxieties and offer a bit of hope by helping out with rent and groceries while they were quarantined.  

That was just the beginning of the phone calls and requests for help we received. Our team moved quickly to support our clients in any way we could. We increased our outreach to ensure they were receiving accurate health information. We also began offering virtual services to help families navigate unemployment claims and understand stimulus check qualifications. 

The work has been constant, a load that has weighed heavily on our team as we navigate our own uncertainties. Yet, in the midst of it all, I have been constantly reminded of God’s promise in  Isaiah 45:3.

“I will give you the treasures of darkness, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons you by name.” 

God has indeed gifted our team with treasures in this dark time. Our community of donors has given so generously, allowing us to provide financial assistance for those most affected by COVID-19. I’ve received so many messages from donors saying things like, “We wanted to share our stimulus money with organizations we support. Thanks so much for all you do.” 

Messages like these give our team the fuel we need to continue this vital work.

Likewise, our volunteer community has been a treasure. They have donated masks, purchased and delivered groceries, coordinated video chats with clients to help them stay connected and visited nearly every market in Fox Valley in search of ugali, a favored staple of our Congolese population.

Then there is the community of local churches that have donated offerings, gift cards and prayers. The generosity has been astounding. “I have a question,” one church partner wrote to me. “How are some of the people you’re working with handling all this stay in place’ stuff? Do you have a need for gas and grocery cards? I think I can get you some if you can give me a rough idea of what the need is right now.” 

And the most treasured of treasures? A community of refugees and immigrants who remind us of what resilience and perseverance look like. They remain faithful and, by their example, demonstrate to our staff, donors, volunteers and church partners that even in the midst of darkness and despair, there are treasures to be found. 

“I was just telling God,” one person from the Hispanic community we work with told me, “I do not know what I am going to do, you need to help me.’ And just when I finished praying, I received your call!”Our refugee and immigrant communities have endured hardships before, and they have come out stronger on the other side. So we continue praying — for health and protection for everyone within our community, and that we would keep our eyes peeled for the treasures to be found even in the season of COVID-19.


Tami McLaughlin first joined World Relief in 2014 as an Employment Specialist in Atlanta. Later that same year, she moved to Wisconsin to assume the role of Director of World Relief Fox Valley. Tami is passionate about developing service, fundraising and outreach programs and events and is dedicated to supporting the world’s most vulnerable.

Scarcity, Immigration and Having Enough

man pouring tea

In the human world, abundance does not happen automatically. It is created when we have the sense to choose community, to come together to celebrate and share our common store.

 – Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak


Seven Years of Waiting

Arooj leans back against the refrigerator in her dimly lit kitchen, her head resting heavily atop postcards and family photos. She holds a brightly lit cell phone out in front of her.

“Yeah, but they never informed me clearly of what clearance they need,” her husband Sunny’s voice is heard from the speaker. “They are only sending me the emails — we are waiting for some clearance from the U.S., please wait
 So I am living here alone, you are living there alone.”

Arooj closes her eyes, breathing deeply before she speaks.

“Yeah. Just keep praying…Be strong. Be faithful. Everything will be alright.”

Arooj and Sunny fled their home in Pakistan in 2013 when Muslim extremists threatened to kill them and their families. Arooj made it to Sri Lanka, but Sunny was caught and kept from joining her. While Arooj was resettled in the United States in 2017, her husband’s resettlement has yet to be approved. The couple has only been physically together for six months out of the last seven years. Now they’re waiting — waiting on a process that seems ever-changing and ever more difficult to complete.

A Culture of Scarcity

The United States has historically been a place of refuge for people fleeing violence and persecution, but drastic changes in immigration and refugee resettlement policies have left many, like Sunny, in a state of limbo. At its best, the U.S. has been known as a place of hope and opportunity, where dreams can come true regardless of race, socioeconomic, ethnic or cultural background. Recently, however, our national rhetoric has shifted. Phrases like, ‘we’re full,’ ‘there’s no room for you,’ ‘you’ll drain our resources,’ and ‘we don’t have enough’ have replaced a culture of compassion and unearthed a deeply seated culture of scarcity. 

In 2012, author and researcher, Brene Brown published a book titled, Daring Greatly. In it, she discusses a cultural shift she’s noticed in the United States over the last several years:

“The world has never been an easy place,” she writes, “but the past decade has been traumatic for so many people
 From 9/11, multiple wars, and the recession to catastrophic natural disasters and the increase in random violence and school shootings, [we’ve survived] events that have torn at our sense of safety with such force that we’ve experienced trauma…

“Worrying about scarcity is our culture’s version of post-traumatic stress. It happens when we’ve been through too much, and rather than coming together to heal (which requires vulnerability), we’re angry and scared and at each other’s throats.”

That description is eerily accurate of our current culture.

If you’re like me, you struggle with scarcity almost daily. You wake up thinking there’s not enough time to get everything done, not enough resources to get what you want, not enough know-how to accomplish your goals
 simply, not enough. But if scarcity and this pervading belief that you don’t have enough — that we don’t have enough — is driving the policies we support and the rhetoric we use, then what does that say about the God we serve?

God’s Promise to Us

All throughout scripture, God promises to provide for our every need. He says to look at the birds of the air and how he feeds them. Are we not much more valuable than they? He also promises to keep us safe, to be our place of refuge and to shelter us beneath his wings. And at the same time, he calls us to be compassionate — to care for the vulnerable and welcome the foreigner among us. We take this call seriously at World Relief and consider it an essential task for followers of Jesus.

At World Relief, we do not advocate for open borders. But we do advocate for policies that are both compassionate and secure. These ideals need not be mutually exclusive. We also advocate and call for a church — God’s people — to be a voice of compassion and to trust God when he says that he is enough and he will provide enough.

Perhaps you’ve heard it said that anytime there are gaps in our knowledge, fear fills those gaps. If we’re fearfully believing that immigrants and other refugees are draining our system and we don’t have enough, could it be that we just don’t know enough about the facts?

The Facts

In 2016, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services issued a report that revealed between 2005 and 2014, refugees and asylees contributed $63 billion more in government revenue than they used in public services. These findings, however, were largely ignored. A fact sheet was released later that year detailing all the ways refugees spent public money without providing any of the details about how much they contribute.

What’s more, according to the National Immigration Forum, immigrants are twice as likely to start new businesses than U.S.-born citizens. Immigrants have founded more than 51% of the country’s new start-up businesses, and in 2016, these companies employed an average of 760 people.

Immigrants and refugees like Arooj are grateful for the refuge America has provided for them and are eager to rebuild their lives and contribute to our economy and our culture.

“We have a big plan, actually…” Arooj says smiling, “that whenever we have kids, one of our kids is going to go to U.S. Army
 that’s what we believe!”

A Call to Trust

Author Parker Palmer once wrote that “whether the scarce resource is money or love or power or words, the true law of life is that we generate more of whatever seems scarce by trusting its supply and passing it around.”

As we move forward, let’s be conscious of the ways our internal stories and misinformation might be shaping our national narrative and choose to generate knowledge, trust and truth rather than letting scarcity and fear win out.


Learn more about Arooj and Sunny’s story.

This story is taken from “They Are Us,” a video produced by Jordan Halland.


Rachel Clair serves as a Content Writer at World Relief. With a background in creative writing and children’s ministry, she is passionate about helping people of all ages think creatively and love God with their hearts, souls and minds.

I Survived the Vietnam War to Become a Proud American

I was born in Southern Vietnam in 1953. I grew up just like any other boy in my country and had a happy childhood.

Then news about war in Vietnam gradually appeared on the front pages of newspapers in the 1960’s, and things began to change

Like many young men in wartime, I reported for military service in South Vietnam at just 18 years of age. I learned we’d be fighting alongside our American allies, which filled many of us with hope. Little did we know, however, that the war in Vietnam would carry on for 19 years and four months. It finally ended in April of 1975, and I was sent to prison for a year for fighting on the South Vietnam side. Afterward, I was told to relocate to a wild area of the jungle called the “New Economic Zone.” Instead, I went to my mother’s hometown in the countryside and made my living as a farmer.

As a former South Vietnamese soldier, I knew I couldn’t stay in the country. My children would not be allowed to pass high school education. They would be barred from being successful people in society. But escape was difficult, very difficult. People who were caught trying to escape would serve long prison terms. After several failed attempts at escaping by myself, I paid a local fisherman to smuggle me out in his boat. Two days after we left, the boat’s engine failed, and a navy ship from Malaysia rescued us.

I was placed in a refugee camp in Malaysia, where I volunteered to work as part of the camp government. It was there I learned that because of my background, I would be resettled as a refugee in the West. As part of the U.S. refugee process, I was sent to the Philippines, where I learned that my future life would be in the U.S.

I finally entered America for the first time in August of 1989 and was welcomed by volunteers from a local church community. They gave me a room to live in and assisted me in acclimating to life in a strange new country. 

At first, I was intimidated. Life was fast-paced, and there was a lot to get used to. For instance, coming from a tropical country, I was terrified of the cold. I didn’t have a TV so I never knew the weather report for the day. I would stick my hand out the window in the morning to see what it felt like so I knew what to wear. When winter came, I made the mistake of washing my winter coat and then hanging it outdoors to dry. When I brought it in at the end of the day, it had frozen to ice.

I was also mistrustful of Christians when I first arrived in America. To my knowledge, the Vietnamese kings did not like Christianity when it first spread to Vietnam. In the late 19th century, the French army came to “protect” new Vietnamese Christians from persecution, which eventually led to the French colonization of my country, and that lasted for almost a hundred years. Growing up a Buddhist, I was naturally suspicious of Christians.

But then I came to America, and people who didn’t share my religion or language – people who had nothing in common with me – went out of their way to help me.

They helped me simply because they cared about me, a stranger, and that caused something to change in me. I wanted to know what this religion was that inspired people to care for me like that so I began attending church. Eventually I, too, became a Christian.

Today, I am a leader in my church. I am also a father and grandfather. My son became a U.S. Marine and is now a junior pastor. I work as a social worker for World Relief, helping other refugees adjust to life in the U.S. I feel blessed to be able to do this work. I understand that many refugees have survived harrowing ordeals and are skeptical of receiving help at first. I use my experience to help them regain their trust in people. I love the work I do.

My brother and sister also became U.S. citizens, but my 94-year-old mother still lives in Vietnam. In 30 years, I have only been able to visit her there four times. My heart aches from missing my mother, but I still don’t feel safe going back there.

When I was in prison in Vietnam, defeated and suffering, I never imagined I could have this kind of life. I want Americans to know how truly blessed they are. Here, we pursue the ideals of freedom and equality. In this country, the poor and the rich shop side-by-side at Walmart. No one is above the law. If people disagree with the government, they can voice their opinions and not be afraid of retaliation.

This is the United States I love and am proud to belong to. I appreciate the opportunity to live in freedom. I hope that by coming together, embracing the American ideals of freedom and equality, and shouldering our societal responsibilities, we can assure the American public refugees and other immigrants are worth welcoming.

Some people say what I endured as a young man, and my experience as a refugee, is remarkable. But I disagree. Living in this country – a country where people are willing to step forward and help strangers simply because it is good and right – that is the remarkable thing.


Chau Ly is a former refugee and social worker at World Relief.

Refugees and Displaced People Around the World

Behind every journey is sacrifice, love and hope – behind every person is a unique story to be celebrated and honored.

As refugee and immigrant families resettle into their new homes, lives are not only being rebuilt but hundreds of people are thriving through the love and support of community.

Watch and learn about these journeys to a new land.

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