The last few weeks have been hard ones for me as the US closed down the legal pathways available to people seeking safety from war, persecution, and gross violations of human rights. The government even ordered agencies in the US to stop assisting refugees who have recently been resettled to the US. It is difficult to imagine how our displaced friends are feeling right now.

I am working through all kinds of emotions. You might be as well. One thing is certain, we are needed now more than ever to stand with and give voice to the voiceless.

A friend and colleague shared his story with me. It highlights the forces that push people to flee their homeland. It also tells of the struggle to find a place of belonging, even after being resettled to the US. His name is ChongBee.

The fires behind us lit the night sky as my family fled into the jungle. I asked my mother why we were going where tigers hunted. She held me tight to her as she hushed me and ran deeper into the jungle toward the Thai border, several days' journey away. I did not know that the violence we fled that night was more dangerous than tigers. I will never forget the explosions, the darkness, and that eerie glow in the sky as soldiers set fire to the homes in our village.

Our journey of forced displacement began that night.

My family was later resettled in the United States. Growing up as a refugee kid in America was like growing up between two worlds. I was so young when we left Laos that I did not fully understand my Hmong culture, nor did I fully relate to the culture in which I was now immersed. My family was poor. My parents held some different values and standards than those of my friends' parents. I struggled to fit in. But the more profound struggle was the ache to belong.

As I entered adulthood, I turned that ache toward compassion for others in my community and city who shared the same journey. I became a youth leader for refugee young people, seeking to help them navigate the complexity of what it means to become integrated and understand a new culture different from one's own.

The ache to belong runs deep

The ache to belong runs deep through the story of my people. As a people group, the Hmong have no country to call their own. They are a minority in every country they live in. In Laos, even before we were displaced, we had no rights.

The day my wife and I became U.S. citizens, I turned to her outside Benson Hall, where we'd just been sworn in, and said, "Now we belong. For the longest time, we didn't belong, but now we have a country to call home." For the first time, I felt like I finally belonged.

When people ask why I work with the displaced, I tell them I understand the journey of displaced people personally. I was given an opportunity for a better life, and I want to help others succeed in finding that opportunity as well.

When I see a refugee child struggling to fit in, I look at them with compassion and a desire to help them succeed here in their new homeland, because I know exactly what it means to be torn between two worlds, and I know what it means to find home.

ChongBee's story captures the harrowing journey of a Hmong refugee family fleeing violence in Laos, only to face the many challenges of resettlement in the U.S. He vividly recounts the terror of that night and the ongoing struggle to belong in a new world.

His story highlights how resilience and compassion emerged from his experience, culminating in a commitment to support other displaced people.

His story is a powerful witness to the resilience of refugees and to the human ache for a place to call home.

Your gift today is needed now more than ever to help people survive and recover from forced displacement - and to create a place in which they are welcome and belong.

Thank you for your prayers and partnership that make it possible for our team to show up in the lives of forcibly displaced people every day!