Sometimes we can be saturated with a story until we are numb emotionally. I'm afraid that the tragedy of Darfur and southern Sudan may be causing a similar response - if we are not careful. Today, however, I was encouraged to hear of generous and compassionate hearts towards a people in great need. I learned that another 50 Sudanese refugees fled across the border of Israel from Egypt -- families, father's, mother's whose husbands were left behind, pregnant women, teens, children.
They had walked from southern Sudan, through Egypt, and across the wilderness making a run for the Israeli border.

The IDF patroling the border were under orders to transport the refugees to Beersheva Municipality.
But, because of Shabbat, the offices closed early. The refugees were left there. Help was on its way...
In recent weeks, University students in Beersheva have taken it upon themselves to personally care for the refugees brought there, often out of their own pockets. When the students heard there were another 50, they rushed to their aid. The refugees first of all needed to be treated for PTSD, and the doctors were called in to check their overall medical conditions. Because Shabbat was coming, the students transported the families to the Ben Gurion University in the Negev and allowed them to sleep inside of a large Bedouin tent.
Hearing of their pl
ight and with little food, no clothing or basic necessities of life was very difficult for me. I remember clearly pulling back my duvet cover as I climbed into bed that night and to God I whispered, "Thank you for a bed." I recounted the long list of "blessings" that are mine, not enjoyed by 50 people only two hours from my home in Jerusalem.
I cannot begin to imagine the horrors they have experienced. I only know that on this night, I have nothing to complain about. Nothing.
Please help me bring a bit of comfort to these who have come so far, was the prayer my heart uttered throughout my restless night. Shabbat had indeed descended, but shalom evaded my Spirit.
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