3 days
Day 1: The chaotic queue of the displaced. All screaming kids, and tired parents, waving yellow paged documentation at the officials. Waiting their turn to be recognised.
Day 2: The dutiful queue of those expressing their condolences. All lined up in black, family receiving the sad handshake in the sunshine. Shiny coffin in the 4×4.
Day 3: The anxious queue of the prison visitor. Hour after hour shuffling, pushing and then sitting…waiting to be called, ID in hand. Bags and gifts all ready to be searched.
3 days. They queue. We queue.
UNHCR registration hall 14/12/14, All Saints Cathedral, 15/12/14, Kanater Prison 16/12/14
everyone i know is in a queue…waiting, not in a advent way because Jesus has risen is alive but in… me, you & others, waiting & wondering if we are seen (like you have said), loved, our prayers heard even, & wanting to know when are we going to be saved from this whatever… i see the people you are seeing & talking with are in very tricky situations & pray hope for you & them not to be consumed because of his great compassion never fails, & new every morning & great is his faithfulness… keep going.