“Maybe I would be better off just crossing again and going to prison for many years.” Upon hearing this, an instant knot forms in my gut. David is telling me his story of deportation on a dusty sidewalk in northern Mexico where he was deported months ago after living many years in Vancouver, Washington. One day he was stopped by police, turned over to immigration officials, and deported, even though he had no prior criminal record. He has been struggling to survive ever since. Sweat dripped down his forehead and rolled over a dozen fresh stitches; he was recently beaten up — it’s a tough existence living on the streets of Nogales, Sonora.

This is a similar story, told over and over again, but with slightly different details and by countless people on these same streets: family, work, young children on the other side — then, one day … deportation. Even worse, many immigrants are given heavy criminal sentences for no other crime but being paperless. Often they are given 20-year bans from re-entering the U.S., which is punishable by about that many years if they are caught again. Further, many people no longer have relatives or connections in Mexico, so they wander the streets and desert. They hear rumors of the anti-immigrant laws in Arizona and intensifying debates over reform.

Day after cruel day passes, and desperation begins to take hold of the human spirit. David reports to me that his marriage has ended as a result of his deportation, as there is little hope that he could safely return, and his 3-year-old daughter has more of a future as a citizen in the U.S. It appears as though there is nothing more messy, complex, or heart-wrenching than the malicious tearing apart of families and lives.

The Obama administration is on track to set a record in 2010 for nearly 400,000 deportations, and the majority of these deportees are non-criminal undocumented immigrants. These deportation policies are taking a toll on the lives of millions of children and family members left behind. And from what we see on the border, the toll on the human spirit is so damaging that good and decent people like David give up their dreams and their dignity. In that state of hopelessness, even sitting in a cage behind bars becomes appealing.

Of course there are many people who, beyond my comprehension, show great strength of spirit against this adversity. I am convinced that God’s good vision is for us to be the church by living as one, free of barriers and in compassionate abundance. But I ask your prayers for those who are beaten down and need that strength and hope now more than ever, and prayer for all of us, complicit in these deportations.

In desperate need of reconciliation, may it be so.