It was a long day of ministry. What was suppose to be a few hours of visiting refugee families, handing out small presents to the children, singing Christmas carols and praying quickly became something so much more. I think this will be a day our team will forever remember from the World Race.
We started out visiting a few families that Chris, our contact, knew well. Our agenda for the day was to go house to house, spend about 30 minutes with seven families and go home. Due to hospitality this plan was quickly thrown off track. The second house we visited was the home of Zaogun, the man acting as our guide for the day. They had prepared a full meal for us. As we ate we got to hear their story. (This is the story for a different day.)
The next house was a Sri Lankan family whose kids we had gone on a hike with our first week here. In an effort to make up for the extra time spent with Zaogun we kept this visit to 30 minutes, but again our plans were thrown off at the next house.This was another Sri Lankan family we had met in our first week. They had a meal prepared for us as well and then their land lady brought us in food as well. It would have been rude to refuse the food so we all ate the food, and left completely stuffed. After keeping our fifth house, another family from Myanmar to about 30 minutes we were on our way to the last two houses.
The last two families were from Pakistan. They had been waiting all day for us to come. It was late. We were tired. We had been walking a decent part of the day. We had stuffed ourselves with so much food from the hospitality of the people to the point where several of us felt physically sick. I think it’s fair to say that we were ready to go home. We walked another 30 minutes to get to their house. We sat down on the floor and for the next 45 minutes there was no where else we wanted to be.
Asif told us about how his family had to leave because their lives were at risk, there was a death sentence out on his father, brother and his-self. He comes from a Christian family. Where he is from being a Christian, speaking the name of Jesus is considered blasphemy. He took out photographs, and copies of documents.
The photographs showed pictures of acts of violence on Christians in his community. Among the pictures were those of a few deceased, shortly after they were killed, blood stains still on their clothes. Buildings where they met, ransacked and left demolished. The documents were paper after paper stating what his family was accused of; starting a Christian organization and then “forcing” those around them to believe. The people in their community compiled evidence against them. The worst offense was speaking against Mohammad, this is blasphemy. The Imam wrote a letter to the Muslim men of their community giving them permission to kill Asif and his family.
The atmosphere is not one that I can describe. The feeling not easily categorized. This man and his family weren’t bitter. He was sharing their testimony, a testimony of what God was worth to his family.
The second house had the same atmosphere. This family too fled for their lives. We all crammed into one room, sat on the floor and again got to listen to testimony that spoke so beautifully of a love for our God, a passion that is worth their lives.
2 Corinthians 4:8-9 We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed but not despairing; persecuted but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.
