When I read the prophecy in Isaiah, I think of Miriam. Miriam’s life in many ways has been completely the opposite of the promises here. For years she has had to keep her family safe from worsening violence in southern Mexico, and when she finally fled to try to seek safety in the US, she found the border closed and was stranded in Nogales, Mexico. Here she has also experienced persecution by organized crime, including when she was selling tamales on the street to support her family, and members of the cartel approached her and told her she didn’t have permission to sell here.

Miriam shared with me several months ago that she had heard from people who were able to access the US asylum process and that when the officer released them into the US he would say to them: “estás libre.” She dreamed of being in the US and finally feeling free. She expressed this desire to rest her mental energy, after being on high alert for years, concerned for her own safety and that of her children.

But even when she gets to the US, it is unlikely that Miriam will live a life that fulfills the words of this scripture, one in which:

together their young shall rest;
the lion shall eat hay like the ox.
The baby shall play by the cobra's den,
and the child lay his hand on the adder's lair.

I remember reading similar scripture during spiritual exercises years ago. My initial reaction was one of rejection: “inconceivable, so far from my reality” and yet quickly coming in prayer to say: this is the hope that God has graced me to do the work of peacemaking and justice. I trust in God’s truth and his peace. For “by the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope”

Who am I to deny Miriam’s hope? Miriam’s belief in a world where she can be truly free?

And if we have the grace of that hope, we are better equipped to do the hard work of the journey to get there. Which means winnowing and clearing and cutting down and burning what doesn’t bear fruit.

Most devastating and most transformative moments in my work here have been the times that I have made mistakes.

Earlier this year, I believed in information that the US government had given me, even though after 8 years at the border I really should know better. And I shared that information with migrants. I participated in creating false hope and eager expectations, which were then of course not fulfilled. In the recriminations and sorrow that followed, I had to take a hard look at my role in the situation, recognize my wrong, ask for forgiveness and ask for God’s help to truly repent. If I believe in the vision that Isaiah shares with us, I can’t hide behind just not being as bad as the US immigration system. The grace of hope allows us to be humble enough that we are willing to undergo refining fire, because it is part of the path that leads to a greater future.

So let’s live and work towards a world in which the words “you are free” might convey the deep freedom, peace and justice that God promises in Isaiah.