By Learning from Christ
In 1945 a letter was sent to England by an unknown soldier fighting on the beaches of Normandy. The letter was a poem about how he rediscovered his faith during the battle. Later, it was picked up by the Canadian hospital ship, Letitia, which published it in their paper under the tidal “In the Foxhole.” [1]
The poem became a bit of a hit and is still discussed by history buffs and poetry lovers today.
In 1945 a letter was sent to England by an unknown soldier fighting on the beaches of Normandy. The letter was a poem about how he rediscovered his faith during the battle. Later, it was picked up by the Canadian hospital ship, Letitia, which published it in their paper under the tidal “In the Foxhole.” [1]
The poem became a bit of a hit and is still discussed by history buffs and poetry lovers today.
In modern Christianity, there is a saying related to the unknown soldier’s poem. Although it takes many forms, it’s typically recited like this, “There are no atheists in a foxhole.”
On its face, the saying accurately describes the spiritual transformation many undergo during battle. As bombs and bullets rain from the sky, the dark stair of death becomes a suffocating reality, which causes many to call out to God.
However, once the guns cease and death retreats back into the background of our day-to-day, the trauma of war lingers on—haunting those who survived.
The State of Christianity In Iraq
It is no secret that Iraq has seen its fair share of war. For the past 100 years, the nation has been in a state of almost constant conflict. For generations, the people of Iraq have witnessed local uprisings, civil wars, and wild warlords. Local political struggles aside, the nation has also received global attention as the battlefield for the most powerful countries and terrorist cells in the world.
This history of war, combined with the most recent conflict with the Islamic fundamentalist group, has adversely impacted the mental health of the local Christian community. Who, in the best of times, have to deal with unfair stigmas and persecution.
On the front lines of this mental health crisis stands a monk named Brother Wisam.
According to open doors USA, [2] Brother Wisam is a hardworking, hoody-wearing minister who deeply cares for the people of his community. After the displacement, he got to work helping those in need.
He told Open Doors, “I am not a psychologist… But what I saw working with the people during the displacement and then afterward alarmed me: People cannot get rid of the anger inside of them, triggering conflicts in families; people suffer from sleeplessness, substance abuse and [thoughts of] suicide, especially among young people.”
The State of Christianity In Iraq
It is no secret that Iraq has seen its fair share of war. For the past 100 years, the nation has been in a state of almost constant conflict. For generations, the people of Iraq have witnessed local uprisings, civil wars, and wild warlords. Local political struggles aside, the nation has also received global attention as the battlefield for the most powerful countries and terrorist cells in the world.
This history of war, combined with the most recent conflict with the Islamic fundamentalist group, has adversely impacted the mental health of the local Christian community. Who, in the best of times, have to deal with unfair stigmas and persecution.
On the front lines of this mental health crisis stands a monk named Brother Wisam.
According to open doors USA, [2] Brother Wisam is a hardworking, hoody-wearing minister who deeply cares for the people of his community. After the displacement, he got to work helping those in need.
He told Open Doors, “I am not a psychologist… But what I saw working with the people during the displacement and then afterward alarmed me: People cannot get rid of the anger inside of them, triggering conflicts in families; people suffer from sleeplessness, substance abuse and [thoughts of] suicide, especially among young people.”
In the interview, he told a reporter that,
“If we don’t deal with the trauma in our community, the future of Christianity in Iraq is very dark,”
The severity of the mental pain he witnessed in the Christian community and the nation in general motivated Brother Wisam to do something.
Alongside an Open-Door partner, Brother Wisam has spearheaded a trauma care program in his local area of Al Kosh.
Vian, Trauma, and Hope
A great example of the trauma care program’s important work can be seen in a 35-year-old social worker named Vian. Working in the same region as Brother Wisam, Vian is the program facilitator at the trauma care center.
Like many of her peers, Vian is no stranger to conflict. She told Open Doors, “There were so many conflicts during my lifetime that I cannot even count them.”
Unlike the wars most of us in the Western world are familiar with, the battlefield was in Vian’s backyard. According to the article, her hometown was near the front lines of the recent conflict with the Islamic fundamentalist groups.
Fortunately, they were not overrun; however, they lived in a constant state of fear, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. Her experiences with the worst side of humanity genuinely impacted her spiritual health.
She told Open Doors, “When people used to tell me about God’s existence, I would be like, but what about the suffering, the torture, the displacement?… It is only through actively working through my trauma that I have been able to see the presence of God in all this.”
The severity of the mental pain he witnessed in the Christian community and the nation in general motivated Brother Wisam to do something.
Alongside an Open-Door partner, Brother Wisam has spearheaded a trauma care program in his local area of Al Kosh.
Vian, Trauma, and Hope
A great example of the trauma care program’s important work can be seen in a 35-year-old social worker named Vian. Working in the same region as Brother Wisam, Vian is the program facilitator at the trauma care center.
Like many of her peers, Vian is no stranger to conflict. She told Open Doors, “There were so many conflicts during my lifetime that I cannot even count them.”
Unlike the wars most of us in the Western world are familiar with, the battlefield was in Vian’s backyard. According to the article, her hometown was near the front lines of the recent conflict with the Islamic fundamentalist groups.
Fortunately, they were not overrun; however, they lived in a constant state of fear, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. Her experiences with the worst side of humanity genuinely impacted her spiritual health.
She told Open Doors, “When people used to tell me about God’s existence, I would be like, but what about the suffering, the torture, the displacement?… It is only through actively working through my trauma that I have been able to see the presence of God in all this.”
Her struggle to trust God after experiencing the horrors of war is an all-too-common story.
Brother Wisam explained the situation like this, “’After [the Islamic State group’s atrocities], people lost their trust. Their trust in each other, their trust in the future, and even their trust in God,’ ‘You have to imagine that some people lived next to their neighbors for 40 years, but when the Islamic State group came, the neighbors didn’t help [the Christians]; even worse, [the neighbors] stole from the Christians’ houses after they’d fled. If you cannot trust people that you see—how can you trust God, someone you don’t see?’”
Community and Stereotypes
Vian is a shining example of the trauma care program’s positive effect on the local community. The program has allowed her to work through her trauma and inspired her to help others do the same. Currently, she is six months into her education at the center’s counseling school.
She told Open Doors, “’After graduation from the school, I hope to help people in need…’ ‘I want to help people realize that others are thinking about them, that people are for them. I want to use the skills I have learned to encourage people, so that we can build a strong and healthy Christian community together.’”
Like many modern communities, mental health is not taken seriously in Iraq. Vian told Open Doors, “’As a society, we don’t accept the concept of trauma’… ‘We see people who are mentally ill as either crazy or lazy.’”
However, people like Brother Wisam, Vian, and the Open Doors partner are changing the way people view mental health in Iraq.
Brother Wisam explained the situation like this, “’After [the Islamic State group’s atrocities], people lost their trust. Their trust in each other, their trust in the future, and even their trust in God,’ ‘You have to imagine that some people lived next to their neighbors for 40 years, but when the Islamic State group came, the neighbors didn’t help [the Christians]; even worse, [the neighbors] stole from the Christians’ houses after they’d fled. If you cannot trust people that you see—how can you trust God, someone you don’t see?’”
Community and Stereotypes
Vian is a shining example of the trauma care program’s positive effect on the local community. The program has allowed her to work through her trauma and inspired her to help others do the same. Currently, she is six months into her education at the center’s counseling school.
She told Open Doors, “’After graduation from the school, I hope to help people in need…’ ‘I want to help people realize that others are thinking about them, that people are for them. I want to use the skills I have learned to encourage people, so that we can build a strong and healthy Christian community together.’”
Like many modern communities, mental health is not taken seriously in Iraq. Vian told Open Doors, “’As a society, we don’t accept the concept of trauma’… ‘We see people who are mentally ill as either crazy or lazy.’”
However, people like Brother Wisam, Vian, and the Open Doors partner are changing the way people view mental health in Iraq.
According to Open Door, their partner has been combating the stigma surrounding mental health in the Christian community for the last seven years. Today the organization operates “three functioning trauma care centers, as well as a two-year counseling school for Christians in professions that encounter traumatized people.”
Even with all this progress, there is still much work to do.
According to Brother Wisam, they are just getting started helping Christianity flourish in Iraq. “Because of the projects, many people are at least able to function in their daily lives. They are struggling, … but [they] survive. But wounds as deep as we are facing here aren’t fixed with one training. Creating awareness and achieving healing takes time. It might take years, generations. We have no other way: We must become people of peace.”
According to Brother Wisam, they are just getting started helping Christianity flourish in Iraq. “Because of the projects, many people are at least able to function in their daily lives. They are struggling, … but [they] survive. But wounds as deep as we are facing here aren’t fixed with one training. Creating awareness and achieving healing takes time. It might take years, generations. We have no other way: We must become people of peace.”