Today, I’m in Amman, Jordan, on the frontlines of the humanitarian crisis that has swallowed up the Middle East in panic and desperation.
ISIS’ systematic slaughter of Christians from Syria to Iraq has driven multitudes from their homes with nothing to call their own and very little hope for the future.
Our World Help team helped distribute life-saving supplies—staple food items, clean water, blankets, and winter clothing—along with a warm meal to hundreds of refugees.
Mazin, a 5-year-old boy I met today, is one of them.
I learned Mazin’s story from his uncle, who had to speak for him. Before long, I understood the sobering truth: This little boy was too traumatized to even speak. In fact . . . he hasn’t spoken a word in weeks.
This is Mazin, one of the millions of children caught in the middle of a staggering refugee crisis.
One of six children, Mazin’s uncle explains that his nephew once enjoyed a full and happy childhood before ISIS soldiers took over his village of Qaraqosh in Northern Iraq.
“He was creative, active, adventurous, talkative, and fun-loving [before ISIS came],” the uncle explains. “We lived a normal life in a nice home with many members of our extended family.” As he speaks, Mazin’s mother sobs uncontrollably by her son’s side.
ISIS immediately began executing Christians in the streets for refusing to convert to radical Islam. Mazin saw horrific acts of violence—beheadings, torture, murder—and has never been the same since, becoming mute and unresponsive even to his mother.
Mazin with his uncle and mother.
The family fled from their home and sought refuge in an abandoned bakery in a Kurdish community in Iraq before finally crossing the border into Jordan.
As foreigners, they have no way to earn a living, forcing Mazin’s father to remain in Iraq to send back the little he is able to earn.
I watched as Mazin stared blankly ahead, too broken inside to speak. Even though he never said a word, this child’s voice was more powerful than any other I heard today.
I thought of my own grandchildren . . . what would I do if this was happening to them? It was absolutely heart-wrenching. This is why we must continue to do everything we can to ease the suffering of our brothers and sisters here.
“He’s seen too many horrors to overcome them,” Mazin’s uncle said, grief-stricken. “Please pray for him . . . for us.” I promised him that I would.
My friend and partner Ghassan and I sharing words of hope to hundreds of Christian refugees gathered to share a warm meal and receive supplies.
There are so many more stories I could tell you. But today, I want you to remember one: Remember Mazin.
Please remember the Christians who are being horrifically killed for their faith in Christ, and join us today to do something about it.
Funding is nowhere near sufficient to continue meeting the needs here. We need your help. The persecuted Christians of Iraq need your help . . . and they need it now.