Storyline Spring 2017

Sometimes I find it easier to leave the news off
and live disconnected from this harsh reality that
affects the majority of the world. It helps me stay
comfortable, protected, safe … it’s like living in a world
with peaceful blinders. When I take off the blinders I am
left feeling uncomfortable, helpless – unsure of what to
do to help.
Two years ago I would have chosen this disconnected
life because my personality has always been to see a
problem and do something about it right away. But
with the issue of helping refugees I couldn’t find an
immediate solution – and that
makes me uncomfortable. It
makes me question God; it makes
me angry to know that there are
so many people hurting. Two
years ago I would’ve preferred
not to wrestle with God. It was
easier to be oblivious about the
large-scale issues and pick battles
that I could do something to fix. But now I realize
that through this sense of being uncomfortable God
has stirred my heart to be empathetic and reach out
in ways I never could have imagined. These lessons
did not come easily for me; in fact, God brought me
through a 2-year personal journey to get to the point
where my heart not only reaches out to refugees but
longs to help those I never thought I could help.
My journey began as I was blissfully preparing for my
wedding day. All I could focus on was getting married
and starting a life with my husband. We’d been living
thousands of miles away from one another – Austin
in Calgary and I in St. Paul, Minnesota. In my mind,
nothing could get harder than this period of distance.
We’d get married, move to Canada, and start our lives
Everything I had pictured my
first year of marriage to be
like was a faded dream within
3 days; comfort was ripped
out from under my feet.
together. To say I was unprepared for what was ahead is a
complete understatement.
I believed that as a North American, moving to Canada
would be a piece of cake and I would take some time to
set up our new townhome while waiting for my residency
then start my job in a nonprofit in Calgary. In reality I was
a foreigner, an alien, temporary, just another immigration
case number. I had to go through the same system that
every immigrant has to go through and wait for a visa.
Everything I pictured my first year of marriage to be like
was a faded dream within 3 days; comfort was ripped out
from under my feet.
We crossed the border into
Canada where I was questioned
and reminded that being married
didn’t guarantee I could be with
my husband. The suggestion was
given that staying in the US during
the visa process – separated from
my husband – might be easier than
repeatedly updating my visitor visa.
Since our townhome wasn’t ready, we stayed in a rental
for over a month with no internet, cable, cell phone,
or any of our own stuff. Just a mattress on the floor. I
knew nobody and was completely new to the city, and I
began to feel very isolated. I was lonely, homesick for my
family and friends, and I began to question what I was
doing. I focused on my visa application to keep my mind
off things, but I hit roadblock after roadblock. I couldn’t
apply until I had my name change in effect, which meant
I needed a new passport. I couldn’t apply for a passport
until we had an address. I couldn’t find out our address
until we had a postal code … but the city hadn’t assigned
postal codes because our development wasn’t complete. I
began to realize things were out of my control. I thought I
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