Ask and You Will Receive



Inspired by John 16:24


The Adriatic wind bit at Liora’s cheeks as she stepped out of the canvas tent, the sunlight pale and cold across the camp. Around her, the world had fractured into lines of waiting—lines for food, warmth, medical care. Families huddled together in too-thin coats, children clutching tattered toys as if they were relics. Yet in that gray, frozen moment, Liora felt a quiet pull at her heart, a spark she could not name but recognized as hope.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. A message from her cousin Jana blinked on the screen: “Meeting at the Common Tent. Big news—come.” Fifteen minutes. A short walk, yet a world away from the uncertainty she had learned to inhabit. She tucked her hands into her coat and moved through the crowded camp. The smells of bread, diesel, and wet wool mixed with the laughter of children, defiant of the winter cold.

Inside the common tent, she found a circle of twenty or so people, faces drawn tight with hardship, eyes wary of promises. At the center stood a woman whose name had appeared in international news—Dr. Mariam El-Husseini, coordinator for the International Humanitarian Alliance. Her gray hair framed eyes that seemed to see every unspoken need. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “I have news that may change your lives.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. “Change?” one man asked. “We have heard change before.”

Mariam nodded. “This time, it is real. We have secured safe passage—long-term housing, schooling, medical care, and jobs—for families across Europe and North America. Not just temporary tents, but homes, futures, dignity.” Her gaze swept the room. “We are here because you asked. Because you demanded to be heard.”

The crowd shifted. Some whispered prayers. Some allowed tears to fall. Liora’s heart thumped. She thought of the verse she had carried since childhood: Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full. The words felt like a lifeline tossed across the storm of their lives.

That night, in her tent, she lay awake listening to the wind. For the first time in months, she imagined a future where Ana, her daughter, could attend school. Where Milan, her brother, could work and send for their parents. The ember of hope glowed softly inside her chest.

The following days were a whirlwind. Registration tents rose; volunteers checked documents, handed out schedules, and helped families plan for departure. Liora received her notice: her family would leave in twenty-four days. She clutched it, letting herself feel a cautious joy that was unfamiliar but welcome.

Under Mariam’s guidance, the camp transformed. Classrooms were set up; clinics opened; volunteers offered language lessons, computer training, and legal assistance. Small acts of kindness—the distribution of scarves, toys, warm meals—became threads in a fabric of hope that wove through the camp.

One evening, a community gathering brought further news. Governments were expanding the initiative. New hubs would open, ensuring that more families could relocate safely. Liora stood among the crowd, witnessing strangers embrace, cry, and pray together. She realized joy could be shared, contagious, and powerful.

Departure day arrived. Buses lined the snowy roads, flags waving, volunteers cheering. Families settled into their seats, children clutching gifts from the camp. Liora held Ana’s hand and looked back at the tents one last time, seeing endurance, community, and resilience in every canvas flap.

Months later, in Split, sunlight warmed their small apartment overlooking the harbor. Ana laughed with new friends, exploring cobblestone streets that had once seemed distant dreams. Liora planted basil seeds on the balcony, watching life sprout from earth they had never thought would feel like home. The wind carried the scent of salt and possibility. She whispered the verse aloud, now lived and true: Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full.

The joy she had sought through hardship was full indeed—not because trials had vanished, but because faith, hope, and persistent asking had opened a door to a new world. The light of tomorrow, she realized, was always waiting for those willing to ask and believe.

In October of 1965, over 61 years ago I made a decision to follow Jesus Christ. It was the best decision I ever made.

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