Пауло Лопес, президент ADRA International
“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” — Matthew 19:14 (NIV)
There is a moment in the Gospels that I return to often. The disciples, trying to manage the crowd, turn children away from Jesus. And Jesus stops them. He doesn’t simply allow the children to approach. He rebukes those who would keep them at a distance. “Let them come,” He says. “Do not hinder them.”
В преддверии Всемирного дня беженцев, который будет отмечаться 20 июня этого года под девизом “Пока все не будут в безопасности”, я не могу читать эти слова Иисуса, не думая о почти 49 миллионах детей по всему миру, которые были насильственно перемещены из своих домов.
Children who did not choose war. Who did not draw borders. Children on the move.
Children Bear What They Did Not Choose
Displacement touches everyone it reaches, but it lands on children differently. An adult forced to flee carries grief, loss, and unimaginable challenges. A child in the same situation shares those challenges and more.
A child on the move is often leaving behind all they know. The friends they love, the community they call home, the education they rely on for the future, the safety they never had to worry about before.
This is why children are at the heart of ADRA’s work with displaced communities. Children in Lebanon who have not sat in a classroom in years. Little ones in Sudan who have walked distances that would exhaust an adult, sometimes without a parent beside them. Kids along migration routes in Latin America who carry memories that no childhood should hold. Children in Ukraine who flinch at sounds the rest of us barely notice.
When I have had the opportunity to spend time with refugee children, what strikes me is more than the hardship. It is the resilience underneath it.
They still laugh when something is funny. They still reach for someone’s hand in the dark. They still want to learn, to play, to belong somewhere.
Despite what crisis may take from them, children are still children.
Not a Political Issue. A Human One.
Refugee policy has become deeply politicized in many parts of the world. Reasonable people hold different views on borders, on capacity, on the responsibilities of nations. I recognize and understand how complicated it is.
But a child is not a policy position. A seven-year-old who has lost her home is not a symbol of a debate. She is a child God sees, knows, and loves, the same way he sees and loves every child reading this alongside her.
Whatever our politics, I believe most of us share a baseline conviction: children deserve protection. They deserve safety. They deserve the chance to grow up with their dignity intact. That conviction is not partisan. It is human. And for those of us who follow Jesus, it is also theological.
Do Not Hinder Them
Jesus’ words to His disciples were not only an invitation. They were a correction. The disciples thought they were being practical — managing the crowd, maintaining order. What they were actually doing was placing a barrier between vulnerable people and the One who could help them.
I sit with that challenge. It is easy, in a world full of urgent needs, to let distance and complexity become a kind of barrier too. To feel overwhelmed and, in that overwhelm, look away. To let the headline pass without it costing us anything.
At ADRA, we try to stay close. Our teams are present in the places most people have stopped watching. They are distributing food, restoring access to education, providing psychosocial support for children and families working through trauma. Not because it is easy, but because proximity is a form of faithfulness.
Every Child, Still Seen
One of the most comforting truths in Scripture is that God sees those the world overlooks. Hagar, abandoned in the desert, calls Him “the God who sees me.” The Psalms return again and again to the image of God drawing near to the brokenhearted.
I believe that is still true. For every child crossing a border in fear, for every child looking for safety in crisis, for every child sitting in a temporary shelter wondering what comes next. God has not lost sight of them. The question is whether we have.
This year on World Refugee Day, I am asking you simply to look. To let a child’s story reach you across whatever distance separates you from it. To resist the numbness that comes from too many headlines and remember that behind each number is a name, a face, a life that matters to God.
Jesus didn’t simply say “let them come.” He said, “do not hinder them.” There is a posture in that, an active clearing of the way. That is what this moment calls us to. Not heroism. Just faithfulness.
And then, if you are able, do something. Give, pray, advocate. Until everyone is safe, be the one who refuses to let the children be turned away.