Hope and Meaning in the Waiting: The Reality of Refugee Life

Some refugees leave in the middle of the night. Others leave at dawn. Most leave with only what they can carry, a small bag, a few documents, children asking questions they do not yet know how to answer. There is no time to prepare. No time to plan. Only time to go.

Thailand becomes a place of refuge because it is easy to enter quickly. Many arrive believing they will be protected once they reach safety. It often takes time to realize that protection does not exist here either.

They flee one form of persecution only to face another, this one quieter, slower, and hidden. Life is shaped by fear of detention and the constant pressure of covering food and rent. There is no legal right to work. No long-term security. No assurance that tomorrow will be safer than today.

Leaving home means leaving more than a place. Refugees leave behind their language, culture, community, and identity. They arrive in a land that does not understand their ways, their journey, or the depth of their suffering. What was once familiar is gone. What lies ahead is uncertain.

Families of three to five people, sometimes more, live together in a single small studio apartment. One room becomes everything, bedroom, dining area, living room, and often a classroom where children and youth learn. Each night, families sit on the floor to share a meal. When the food is finished, the space is cleared. Thin mats are rolled out. Everyone sleeps side by side. In the morning, the mats are folded and stacked among their few belongings in an already crowded space, and the day begins again.

This is not temporary. This is not a few months of hardship.

This is years, often seven to ten, of living in limbo, if resettlement is even possible. Fewer than five percent of refugees worldwide are resettled to a third country.

Many will never leave.

And still, refugees often say, “At least we are safe.”

Safe from bombs, famine, and violence, yes. But not safe from instability, isolation, loss, or the fear of detention. Refugee life is not only about survival. It is about enduring long seasons of uncertainty while holding tightly to dignity, faith, and hope.

This reality is heavy. The challenges are real. And yet, in the midst of it all, resilience quietly takes root. Refugee families find moments of joy in ordinary days. They build community where none existed. They hold onto faith when answers feel far away.

As we walk alongside our refugee friends, we learn that presence matters. Advocacy matters. Faith matters. We have seen how living with purpose can transform waiting. Through faith, supportive community, and the opportunity to build skills, even long seasons of uncertainty can become meaningful.

This is the reality refugees face. Not only hardship, but courage. Not only waiting, but hope.