To the people of eastern Aleppo,

I was asked to write about your city this weekend. I just spent two hours researching to try to understand and make sense of it all. It’s complicated. It’s desolate. It’s maddening.

But here I am sitting in a Starbucks drinking a warm Gingerbread Latte. I’m listening to Christmas music. I have five layers on—inside—because rooms in America are never warm enough for me.

I feel safe.

And in my comfortable place, this is what I read about your city:

  • The hell you’re living through has killed a quarter million people
  • Half of your population is displaced, more than 31,000 in the last 10 days alone
  • 4,500 youth under the age of 18 were killed in the last four years
  • Fewer than 1 out of 3 hospitals are functioning and your food, fuel, and medical supplies are dwindling

While I was reading, this song played in my white, Apple headphones:

O day of peace that dimly shines
Through all our hopes and prayers and dreams, 
Guide us to justice, truth, and love, 
Delivered from our selfish schemes. 

May the swords of hate fall from our hands, 
Our hearts from envy find release, 
Till by God's grace our warring world
Shall see Christ's promised reign of peace. 

Then shall the wolf dwell with the lamb, 
Nor shall the fierce devour the small; 
As beasts and cattle calmly graze, 
A little child shall lead them all. 

Then enemies shall learn to love, 
All creatures find their true accord; 
The hope of peace shall be fulfilled, 
For all the earth shall know the Lord.

I’m not sure where you are tonight, but I am praying for you. And I mean that. I’m praying to a God who knows you and hears you and sees you. My church is asking its members to pray for you and your families too—faithfully.

And I’ve seen what the church can we do when we pray. We’re going to be praying for your leaders—and ours. We’re going to be praying you know Christ’s peace.

We are also working on providing you aid. I’m not sure you have a reason to believe that, but we are. Other organizations are too. We’re trying through every means we can. God willing, we’re hoping to get something to you next week.

And to our church family in Aleppo, thank you for what you’re doing for the Kingdom. Your faith strengthens mine. May you sense Christ’s presence this Christmas.

You’re not alone in this,

-An American Girl


Kassi Roedding grew up in Quito, Ecuador as a TCK where she graduated from the Alliance Academy International. After graduating college with a degree in Communications, she moved to Colorado Springs and now works for CAMA Services. She would love for you to follow CAMA’s Facebook page and/or Instagram

by Carl P. Daw, Jr.
© 1982Hope Publishing Company, Carol Stream, IL 60188  www.hopepublishing.com
All rights reserved.  Used by permission.