“Where is he? Hand him over to us!” yelled the Muslim officials at her door, “He is a blasphemer! Where is he?”
She stood her ground though inside she was quivering with fear. What did they want with her husband? Would they kill him? Torture him? Beat him?
“He’s not here,” she managed with tears streaming down her face.
They barged in anyways, searching for her husband. It was all should could do to get on her knees and pray Psalm 91 over herself and her husband. “Cover us with your wings, Father,” she whispered over the lump in her throat.
As this Pakistani woman relayed this story to my team, I was in awe of her and her family’s faith. I knew that persecution like that happened in Pakistan but I had never sat in the presence of anyone who had endured it. The entire family shared their individual stories and each one had the power to leave my whole team speechless. I could almost tangibly feel God’s presence as each one of them spoke.
“I still see it happening in my head during the day and night,” One of the men told us.
“I went down the streets and handed people Urdu Bibles and one day someone saw me and beat me in the street.” Another man said.
They hung on to hope in a way I have never had to before, but they were hungry to hear our stories. They wanted to hear more about God’s faithfulness. That was the kind of church service they wanted in their living room. They didn’t want a fancy sermon full of word studies and linear logic. They wanted a collective sermon, woven together like a quilt, each piece a page from the narrative God had written for each person in that room.
As I told them about seeing light in the darkness and blessings in disguise, I realized they probably knew far more about that than I did but I told them anyway. They wanted me to be a part of the quilt we sewed together that day. They knew the Truth full well but sometimes we all need to hear it again from somebody else just to make sure we aren’t just dreaming.
It was the most indescribably beautiful and intimate church services I have ever had the opportunity to attend. A Pakistani refugee house church in the middle of Nepal. What are the odds! I was incredibly blessed by their stories. I was honored that they allowed our team to help them hold their burden.
At the end, they asked us to pray for their country and the members of their family who were still there. They asked us to pray for their ministry in Nepal as they await placement in another country. Finally, they asked us to pray for our own country because they could see it beginning to enter into a time of potential turmoil as well.
From the outside, prayers like this may seem vague and vain because we are asking for entire nations to change. We are asking for centuries of pain and brokenness to be undone. On the contrary, I believe that if enough people have the faith to believe and pray every day, God will do the impossible in His own good timing. The trouble is that too many people have given up hope.
I challenge you to boldly fall on your knees today and believe, actually, truly believe that prayers for these nations are more than dust in the wind.
If you don’t know what to pray, look up prayercast.com and Voice of the Martyrs. Ask the Lord how you can pray into a broken nation each day, including our own as the election fast approaches.
Change takes faith. Faith takes action. Action is prayer. And prayer is the most powerful weapon a Christ follower can wield.
