by Chelsea Hurlburt

I stood looking around my apartment, debating what to grab before I rushed out the door. What was most important? How long would I be gone? What would happen to my home in the meantime?

The thoughts that swirled through my mind at that moment are sadly familiar to many in the ABTS community. In Lebanon today, more than one million people are displaced by the current crisis. Across the Middle East, various conflicts have led to 16 million people being either internally displaced in their own country or forced to flee as refugees. A staggering 120 million people around the world face the same reality – forced to leave their home, not knowing when or if they will ever return.  

Before the current crisis, I had worked with displaced populations in different parts of the world. I’d studied displacement from a biblical and missiological perspective. I’d researched mental health issues and initiatives among people displaced by conflict.

But facing displacement first-hand opened my eyes to how bewildering the experience truly is. Listening to my friends and colleagues share similar feelings prompted me to reflect deeper. While relief work with displaced people often focuses on immediate needs like food and safe shelter, there is so much about the experience of displacement that gets left unsaid. The whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions happening under the surface goes beyond the experience of other disasters. My hope here is to give voice to that experience, and then draw together biblical and psychological perspectives for guidance on working through it all. Others experiencing the distress of conflict might notice similar struggles, and I hope this discussion proves helpful for them as well.

The Experience of Displacement

Displacement is unlike most disasters—it lingers indefinitely, with no fixed end date. While initial emergency needs, such as food and shelter, are similar to those following natural disasters, the similarities often end there. Unlike a fire or earthquake where rebuilding can begin almost as soon as the immediate crisis subsides, displacement caused by unpredictable conflict leaves people in a prolonged state of uncertainty.

Days turn into weeks, months, and sometimes years. Most displaced individuals long to return home but remain unsure when, or if, they can. Basic life decisions—budgeting, securing work, signing a lease, or enrolling children in school—are left in turmoil, making even short-term planning nearly impossible.

The loss of control and independence is disorienting for those accustomed to making their own decisions. Added to the stress of this are mixed thoughts and emotions about home. Homesickness hits hard – a deep longing for old routines, familiar faces, and comforting space. Thoughts of home also generate other feelings, including anxiety for things left behind, and fear for the safety of people left behind. Layered over this are often feelings of guilt over leaving, over not being there alongside loved ones in their distress, and over feeling inadequate to do more.

One final factor in understanding displacement is recognizing how it disrupts regular coping mechanisms at a time when healthy coping is most needed. Displaced people can end up in poorly equipped and crowded temporary housing in potentially unfamiliar and scary neighborhoods. This can hinder even the simplest of self-soothing measures, such as going for a walk, making a cup of coffee, or enjoying a favorite hobby. Displacement also means that close friends and family are no longer nearby to talk. Without these kinds of positive coping mechanisms, negative coping takes over. This includes obsessively watching the news and checking social media, withdrawing, and becoming routinely distracted by worries and ruminating thoughts.

Coping with Displacement

In difficult times, Christians and mental health professionals sometimes have different ideas on how to cope. Here I explore how these two perspectives can be intertwined to enhance how we respond to stress. Here are four practices for coping with crisis:[1]

Grounding:

When worrisome thoughts start to wander, it’s important to stay grounded. Grounding involves focusing on your physical presence and immediate surroundings—paying attention to your breathing, noting sensations in your body, and focusing on your environment and the task at hand. Jesus’ advice to his anxious followers was precisely this: he urged them to look at the birds of the air and the flowers in the field (Matt 6:25-34). His words not only helped them resist being swept away by anxious thoughts but also reminded them to focus on the evidence of God’s provision all around them.

Take a deep breath (or a few) and look around you. Put your hand to your heart and notice what you may be feeling spiritually and physically, but also notice how God is sustaining you through this time. Look at the space around you and feel His presence there. Read Scripture and be reminded that God himself is our firm ground.

Unhooking:

Like a fishing line snagged on some weeds, so is our mind when it’s hooked on negative thoughts. Detangling it takes patience and work. It’s not easy to sort through feelings of helplessness, shame, guilt, or even grief. But it’s necessary.

Unhooking means noticing what you’re feeling, naming it, and then choosing what to do with it. You can choose to express it in some way, or simply acknowledge a feeling is there and then set it aside for the moment and refocus on the people or tasks in front of you.

It’s ok to notice conflicting emotions. Displacement and conflict undoubtedly bring feelings of sadness and loss, but there are surprising moments of beauty as well. Among the community displaced at ABTS, I witnessed outpourings of kindness, the delight of new friendships, and an inspiring perseverance. Grief can be intertwined with joy in the strangest way.

Don’t let difficult emotions stay jumbled in your mind. Notice them, name them, and do something with them. Most of all, don’t feel ashamed to tell them to God. God is big enough to handle whatever you’re feeling. Pray through some imprecatory Psalms, many of which David wrote during the times he fled for his life. You can also follow Habakkuk’s example and confront God with your questions. Trusting God with our feelings is an act of faith in itself.

Living:

I know going on can feel like a betrayal to everything left behind. It’s hard to put effort into new opportunities or new community when there is hope of returning to the old. Yet when God’s people were sent into exile, that is exactly what He told them to do. Build houses, settle down, plant gardens, eat, marry, and have children[2] – God’s people weren’t supposed to just sit around waiting to return home. They were called to keep living.

Just like God’s people then, we are called today to seek peace and goodness wherever we are. This means being open to the new relationships and opportunities God puts in your path. It also means choosing not to withdraw from the world. Withdrawal is common when confronted with an uncertain and unpredictable future. Trust that God has given you the resiliency to work through what is difficult, and you might be surprised at what problems you manage to solve. Are you struggling with negative means of coping? Decide on a more positive strategy. Missing your loved ones? Call them. Is your child struggling? Sit and talk with them.

Sort out what problems you can manage today and leave the rest for tomorrow. Better yet, hand them over to God and see what He can do. Recall how God used the displacement of those like Abraham, Naomi, Esther, and Daniel to bring about good for them and others. Remember that even after everything Joseph endured in displacement, at the end he could say, “God made it turn out for the best” (Gen 50:20).

Trusting:

“Give us this day our daily bread.”[3] Scripture talks a lot about living one day at a time. It’s a good thing to remember when the option of planning ahead is taken away. Trusting in God’s daily provision is fundamental to facing an uncertain future. The prophet Elijah was forced to flee multiple times for his safety and nearly gave up hope, yet God continually provided for him in the most unique and miraculous ways.

We can trust that God’s mercies for us “are new every morning.”[4] We can remember the resources we still have – God’s love, the comfort of His Spirit, and power over sin and death, which is ours through Christ’s resurrection. At our weakest moments, in the face of grief and loss, we can proudly say that His power is made perfect in our weakness.[5] His mercies make us resilient and lead us to proclaim: “This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”[6]

Chelsea Hurlburt serves on the faculty team at ABTS and hopes to return to Lebanon soon. She is currently finishing her PhD in Intercultural Studies, with a focus on women in mission.

[1] A helpful and fun resource explaining some of these practices is an illustrated guide from the World Health Organization called “Doing What Matters in Times of Stress.” Available here in Arabic and English.

[2] Jeremiah 29:4-7

[3] Matthew 6:11

[4] Lamentations 3:22-23

[5] 2 Corinthians 12:9

[6] Psalm 118:24