Check out the Africa Mercy Ship. It is amazing the people who have dedicated their lives to helping those in desperate need of medical attention.
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Tag Archives: Missions
Waves of Mercy
According to Mercy Ships, five billion people lack access to safe surgery. Children, teens, and adults suffer and die every day from treatable causes, and one child in eight will die before age 5.
In 1978 Don and Deyon Stephens founded Mercy Ships in Switzerland. Don says that “A devastating hurricane, meeting Mother Teresa and the birth of his special needs son drove an idea that would bring hope and healing to the world’s poorest people.”
First idea for a ship that would travel to countries without medical faculties and help came to Don at 19. His youth group saw a hurricane that came through the Bahamas when they were there. He heard someone praying for a ship that could come in and provide the care needed after such a tragedy. Later when he and his wife had a son born with special needs, he was reminded of that prayer and how many with such problems had no way to go for help. Finally, visitng with Mother Teresa she encouraged him to follow the dream God had first planted when he was a teenager.
The first Mercy Ship was a Italian cruise liner built in 1953 and called the Victoria. Converted into a mobile hospital it was renamed Anastasis. The Stephens lived on the first ship with their family for the first ten years of operation. The ship was retired in 2007 and replaced by Africa Mercy.
According to Mercy Ships “It is estimated 16.9 million people die globally each year from conditions requiring surgical care. 32% of all global deaths are a result of the lack of access to safe, affordable, and timely surgery.”
Mercy Ships until this year had one ship to reach out to the poorer nations with medical care. However, they have added a second ship, Global Mercy. Building the ship began in 2017 and was just completed last year. The ship passed all the testing to prove it sea worthy and will officially began serving the needy in March of this year. This ship has six operating rooms, 200 beds, a laboratory, general outpatient clinics and eye and dental clinics.
These ships not only provide needed medial care, but they also work to train local nurses and doctors to continue the care when they are gone. Since over 50% of the world’s population live nears a coast, the ships are the perfect way to bring this much needed health care.
The doctors and nurses who serve on Mercy Ships do so without any compensation.
Since its founding in 1978 Mercy Ships “has worked in more than 70 countries providing services valued at more than $1 billion, treating more than 2.5 million direct beneficiaries. Each year Mercy Ships has more than 1,600 volunteers from more than 40 nations. Professionals including surgeons, dentists, nurses, healthcare trainers, teachers, cooks, seamen, engineers, and agriculturalists donate their time and skills to the effort. Mercy Ships seeks to transform individuals and serve nations one at a time.”
There are many amazing stories of lives that have been changed because of the work of Mercy Ships.
To read some of these stories – and see more of the work of Mercy Ships, visit their website:
The Day I Was Mad at God
My computer of almost nine years is about to die on me I think. It is getting slower and slower. I purchased it when I retired and never thought it would last this long. Today I began saving files, pictures and other documents on the computer to flash drives so I will not lose everything if and when the computer bites the dust.
Going through my files I found this article I wrote but never posted. The story took place many years ago but reading it today I was reminded of that day I got mad at God. I am so thankful that we can be honest with Him and He does not reject us when we share our deepest thoughts and feelings.
The two grandchildren I mention in this post are now all grown up. Robert has two handsome boys with his wife, Amy, and Barbara is almost though law school. God has blessed my husband and I with many more grandchildren – and great grandchildren.
To be honest there have been a couple more times when I have found myself upset with God. But He has been faithful to me for over 73 years and I am thankful that He loves me – at all times, in all seasons.
So – here is that article I never posted.
I remember the moment I held my daughter in my arms. It was overwhelming to realize I was a mother, personally responsible for this tiny baby. Looking at her, I whispered that we were going to be the best of friends. I shared with her my hopes and dreams of the hours we would spend reading, playing in the park and listening to music. Four years later I once again held another daughter in my arms. How happy I was – two beautiful daughters!
My girls were my world. As a mother, there was nothing I would not do to make them happy. As time passed, my oldest daughter and her husband gave me the joy of being a grandmother. Robert was born and his first year was filled with precious memories watching him beginning to walk and say his first words. One year later a beautiful granddaughter was born. As I walked into the room where my daughter lay holding this new grandchild, my heart skipped a beat when she held the baby out to me and said, “Mother, meet Barbara Rose!” She was named Barbara after me!
In the midst of this joy, my heart was torn. In just a few short weeks I would have the honor of dedicating this little child to God. However, a few days after the dedication I would get on an airplane with my husband and youngest daughter and fly to the other side of the world to serve as a missionary in the Philippines.
Several months before Rebekah had become pregnant with Barbara, God had opened a door for my husband and me to work in the Philippines for a couple of years teaching in a Bible College. At the time I felt everything would be okay because by the time we left Robert would be over a year old and Rebekah and Rob would do fine as new parents with this little boy. While I would miss Robert, I would have had that first year to share and treasure while we were gone. But now my daughter, who had married very young, had not one, but two children less than twelve months apart. She and her husband were both college students.
As I looked at them struggling to keep up with their home, their studies and two little babies, I wondered how can this young couple make it. Holding Barbara Rose on dedication day, my heart ached as I realized I would not be there to see her sit up, take her first steps, and say her first words. When I came back, she and her brother would not know who I was.
Yet, I knew God had called us to go. I thought of the verse in the Bible that speaks of loving God so that in comparison it may seem we hate our family.
Rebekah and Rob went with us in the airport as far as they could go before security barred their way. The last look I had was the two of them standing there, each with a baby in their arms, and the saddest, forlorn look on their faces. I felt my heart would break. I was deserting them when they really needed me.
We settled in the Philippines and while my heart still ached, I became busy in the work and prayed the time would pass fast for them. A couple of months later, we had a call from my daughter. Our little granddaughter was having digestive issues and it looked as if she might have to have surgery. How I longed to go home, but we had just arrived and our budget did not really include money to make a trip home. Rebekah assured me they would be fine and did not need us, but I could hear in her voice the longing for her mother.
Hanging up the phone, I went into my bedroom, laid on the bed and told God how mad I was at Him. I said, “I sold everything I had, gave up my time with my grandchildren to obey You. The least you could do is take care of them. I feel as if I am turning my back on my daughter.” God did not strike me with lightning for speaking that way. He understood the love of a mother for her children. But quietly I felt that “still small voice” of God speaking to me. He said, “I turned my back on my Son for you.”
For the first time in my life I got a little idea of how much God really loved me when He sent His Son to die on that cross. John 3:16 took on new meaning for me.
And the end of the story – Robert and Barbara quickly developed a love for Grandma and our relationship is very close. God also has given me many more grandchildren and I believe the example we set putting God first in our lives has had a tremendous influence on my children. Putting God first is sometimes hard, but always in the end, brings great blessings.
Faith in the Face of Evil
I just finished reading a powerful book about the suffering of a Christian man imprisoned in Sudan for 445 days. While I understand the concerns of Christians here in our country that we might lose some of our religious freedoms, I had to once again see that we have no idea what real persecution for the cause of Jesus Christ looks like.
Petr Jasek,, a citizen of the Czech Republic and an aid worker, made a trip to Sudan in December 2015 to see what Christians could do to help their fellow Christians suffering at the hands of the government of Sudan. After meetings with local pastors and other Christians he was at the airport getting ready to return home to his family when he was detained for questioning by Sudan security agents. They took his computer, phone and camera and charged him with espionage, waging war against the state and undermining the constitution.
After hours of no sleep and repeated interrogation, he was taken to prison and placed in a cell approximately eight feet wide by fourteen feet long. There were already six men in the cell with only one bed. The five men without a bed slept on mattresses on the floor. The only space he had to lay his body down was next to the entrance to the bathroom. The shower was completely broken and the Western-style metal toilet was covered in rust. He saw a hose coming out of the wall for water but soon discovered that the water was only on once or twice a day.
I can’t imagine the stench of the room with seven men crowded together and no real facilities to maintain cleanliness.
Added to that horror, he soon discovered his fellow inmates were ISIS fighters. Although Sudan is an Islamist government, they did not want ISIS to find a home in their country because they were afraid they would win the people’s allegiance and their own control of the country would be lost to ISIS leaders.
He first realized who he was sharing his cell with when he was awaken at 4:30 a.m. by the call to prayer. The men in the cell rose to their feet and began their morning prayers. He was told that when they prayed he had to wake up and stand in the back corner of the room where they would not have to face him.
Since they had no access to news on the outside, they asked him to share the latest news. He immediately thought of the terrorist attack that had taken place in Paris earlier in November. At the mention of the death of 129 people, he was shocked when they at first became very silent, then began hugging one another and shouting with great joy “Allabu Akbar!”
After weeks of imprisonment he was set for a trial. While waiting for his trial he was moved several times to different prisons and different cells. Toward the end of his imprisonment he was able to share a cell with fellow Christians.
After delay and delay he was found guilty and sentenced to life imprisonment. A fine of 100,000 Sudanese pounds ($17,000) was also imposed on him.
For most of us I am afraid we would have been crying out to God “why me?” Petr came to the understanding that his time and his life were in the Lord’s hands. With confidence that God was still in control regardless of how hopeless things looked, he began finding opportunity to share the Gospel with other prisoners and with his guards.
One of his greatest joys while in prison was when he was allowed to have a Bible. He said
The Word of God is not chained – even when God’s people are. The Scripture is alive and active, and when I began feelings its activity in prison, I would not keep it to myself. The Lord began prodding me to share the Gospel with my fellow prisoners – nominal Christians, animists, and even Muslims….In prison I truly learned to love my enemies. I still pray for the ISIS prisoners and I pray that many Christian prisoners in Sudan might have the opportunity to share the Gospel as well.”
Thankfully the Czech government and Christians around the world continued to intercede for Petr and he was released in 2017 after 445 days.
This story is one worth reading. “Imprisoned with ISIS – Faith in the Face of Evil”.
The book is worth taking the time and money to read but you can also check out his story at
Christian aid worker says time in Sudanese prison allowed him to share Gospel
Next time I hear someone complaining about how we are persecuted in this country for being a Christian, I will just remember Petr’s story and say God help us if we ever really have to suffer persecution.
I Wonder Where Rosalie Is Today?
She was such a cute little girl. A little afraid, but very curious, of the Americans who had moved into her neighborhood.
She began by peeping around the corner of the wall of our compound, trying to sneak a look at us while remaining hidden herself.
Slowly she came out of hiding and let us see her pretty face.
For several days she played this peek-a-boo game with us until finally she came with a friend and sat down outside our gate.
My husband, our youngest daughter and I had moved into her neighborhood where we lived as we taught in a local Bible school and also in local churches throughout Iloilo City on the island of Panay in the Philippines.
Having white Americans as neighbors was quite a novelty. Children in the neighborhood came to the gate every day to get a look at us. We began talking to them and before long we developed friendships with all the children on our street.
At first when we walked down our street, the little boys would call out to my husband, “Hello GI Joe.” After repeating each day that his name was Paul, they finally called him by his name – but it came out with two syllables – Pa -ul.
Our daughter started a Kids Klub for the neighborhood children. Saturday mornings our living room would turn into a classroom. Jessica taught them songs, Bible stories and always had games and snacks for them. They called her “Tita” or aunt and followed her each time she left our home.
Rosalie was the youngest of five siblings. Their mother was a widow and made her living by selling food in a makeshift hut on the side of the road.
While we fell in love with all the children, we took a special interest in this family.
When it was time for us to return home, Rosalie’s mother wanted us to take Rosalie with us. She envisioned a much better life for her youngest if she came to the United States with us.
We struggled with what would be the right decision. It sounded good to provide this little girl with all the luxuries she would never have in Iloilo City. Things like clean water, plenty of food, shoes and the many things we take for granted but would not be available to her in the Philippines.
But what would it do to her emotionally to be ripped from her home, her siblings and especially her mother?
Was it arrogance on our part to think that all the material things we could give her was worth more than family?
Yet how could we say no to giving her a life that would be much easier than the life she would have here in Iloilo City?
In the end, the legal requirements and the cost of adopting her and all the red tape involved proved more than we could do.
The day we left our neighborhood was very traumatic. The children gathered early at our home and hung on to the jeepney as we drove slowly away. They cried out, “Don’t go, don’t go.”
As I reflect back on that time, I do believe it would have been wrong to take her from her family – but I still wonder.
Did we do the right thing?
I wonder where she is today?
With today’s technological advances of Facebook and the internet we might have been able to maintain some contact. But that was not possible then.
Still, I think of her and wonder if she remembers us.
Christmas Past – Maligayang Pasko
Well it seems I am on a roll – memories of Christmas past just continue to occupy my mind – especially at bedtime. Maybe it’s just that I am getting old. Maybe it’s spending this Christmas in a new home in a new state far from what was familiar.
The memories are for the most part happy ones although the last post I made did include one Christmas that was sad and lonely.
Christmas Past – Laughing Through the Tears
Still, I’m thankful that the happy times far outweigh the sad ones.
For a girl growing up in the Midwest Christmas has always meant:
- Christmas trees and decorations
- Caroling
- cold temps
- sometimes snow
But I will never forget the one Christmas I spent without all the trees and decorations, without caroling, no cold temps and certainly no chance of snow.
I spent Christmas of 1991 at the beach on the island of Panay in the Philippines.
My husband and I had gone to the Philippines with our youngest daughter to teach in a Bible school. While there we also spoke and often gave classes to the ministerial staff at local churches. Our daughter began a Kids Klub with the local neighbor hood children.
I wrote about her experience there in:
The Piped Piper of Iloilo City
It never really felt like Christmas there. The temperature was much too warm. It was lonely thousands of miles from our family. There were few bright lights. In the gated community where many of the other missionaries lived there were trees and lights. But in our neighborhood no one could afford such luxuries. Many of our neighbors did not even have electricity for any lights. Most struggled to provide food for their families and there would be few, if any, presents and certainly no Christmas tree.
There were decorations in the stores downtown, but none like we were used to. The mall downtown had some beautiful ones made from bamboo.
The only Christmas decoration we had was a nativity set we found at a local store. It was amazing to us that even in the Philippines, the nativity set portrayed Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus as white. Clearly Jesus would have been dark-skinned like those from the Middle East but somehow we have made Him into an image totally foreign to what He would have been.
We held a birthday party for Jesus with the kids in the neighborhood. We had a birthday cake, played games and had so much fun with the kids. It was a joy to also share with them the story of the true meaning of Christmas.
Christmas day we shared a picnic at the beach with another missionary couple from Norway. Like us, it seemed strange to have no snow or cold temperatures. As you can see, from the pictures, we really dressed up for the day. NOT!
As I look at these pictures today I wonder where those children are now. How many had the privilege of completing school? How many even survived to adulthood? It is my prayer that we did make a difference in their lives while we were there.
This year as we feel the cold temperatures, I do think how nice it was that year to enjoy sunshine and the ocean. But I still am glad to be here with my family. Wherever you are, whatever your Christmas is –
Maligayang Pasko – or Merry Christmas!
The Day I was Mad at God
I remember the moment I held my daughter in my arms. It was overwhelming to realize I was a mother, personally responsible for this tiny baby. Looking at her, I whispered that we were going to be the best of friends. I shared with her my hopes and dreams of the hours we would spend reading, playing in the park and listening to music. Four years later I once again held another daughter in my arms. How happy I was – two beautiful daughters!
My girls were my world. As a mother, there was nothing I would not do to make them happy. As time passed, my oldest daughter and her husband gave me the joy of being a grandmother. Robert was born and his first year was filled with precious memories watching him beginning to walk and say his first words. One year later a beautiful granddaughter was born. As I walked into the room where my daughter lay holding this new grandchild, my heart skipped a beat when she held the baby out to me and said, “Mother, meet Barbara Rose!” She was named Barbara after me!
In the midst of this joy, my heart was torn. In just a few short weeks I would have the honor of dedicating this little child to God. However, a few days after the dedication I would get on an airplane with my husband and youngest daughter and fly to the other side of the world to serve as a missionary in the Philippines.
Several months before Rebekah had become pregnant with Barbara, God had opened a door for my husband and me to work in the Philippines for a couple of years teaching in a Bible College. At the time I felt everything would be okay because by the time we left Robert would be over a year old and Rebekah and Rob would do fine as new parents with this little boy. While I would miss Robert, I would have had that first year to share and treasure while we were gone. But now my daughter, who had married very young, had not one, but two children less than twelve months apart. She and her husband were both college students.
As I looked at them struggling to keep up with their home, their studies and two little babies, I wondered how can this young couple make it. Holding Barbara Rose on dedication day, my heart ached as I realized I would not be there to see her sit up, take her first steps, and say her first words. When I came back, she and her brother would not know who I was.
Yet, I knew God had called us to go. I thought of the verse in the Bible that speaks of loving God so that in comparison it may seem we hate our family.
Rebekah and Rob went with us in the airport as far as they could go before security barred their way. The last look I had was the two of them standing there, each with a baby in their arms, and the saddest, forlorn look on their faces. I felt my heart would break. I was deserting them when they really needed me.
We settled in the Philippines and while my heart still ached, I became busy in the work and prayed the time would pass fast for them. A couple of months later, we had a call from my daughter. Our little granddaughter was having digestive issues and it looked as if she might have to have surgery. How I longed to go home, but we had just arrived and our budget did not really include money to make a trip home. Rebekah assured me they would be fine and did not need us, but I could hear in her voice the longing for her mother.
Hanging up the phone, I went into my bedroom, laid on the bed and told God how mad I was at Him. I said, “I sold everything I had, gave up my time with my grandchildren to obey You. The least you could do is take care of them. I feel as if I am turning my back on my daughter.”
God did not strike me with lightning for speaking that way. That’s the beauty of a relationship with God. He knows our hearts, He understands our pain and He loves us. I have never understood those who feel we cannot be totally honest with God – as if He does not already know our very thoughts. He understood the love of a mother for her children. He loved me in spite of my hurt and anger.
But quietly I felt that “still small voice” of God speaking to me. He said, “I turned my back on my Son for you.”
For the first time in my life I got a little idea of how much God really loved me when He sent His Son to die on that cross. John 3:16 took on new meaning for me.
And the end of the story – Robert and Barbara quickly developed a love for Grandma and our relationship is very close. God also has given me many more grandchildren and I believe the example we set putting God first in our lives has had a tremendous influence on my children. Putting God first is sometime hard, but always in the end, brings great blessings.
Let’s Keep Christ in Christmas by our actions rather than our words!
I posted this list last year – but would like to share again – as you are shopping don’t forget those who are less fortunate than you!
For everyone concerned about “keeping Christ in Christmas” instead of worrying rather some pagan says “Merry Christmas” let’s really “keep Christ in Christmas” by what we do rather than what we say.
Ten Terrific Gifts for Christmas
- For just $35 you can help bring a safe playground to a Compassion child development center.
- For just $40 you can help provide textbooks and learning materials that children can access at their child development center.
- For just $18 you can help a child prevent malaria with an insecticide-treated bed net, plus training for his or her family to avoid the mosquito bites that cause this disease.
- For just $79 you can help provide a safe water filtration system so that a family in poverty can have clean water.
- For just $100 you can provide a bicycle for a child in need, to ensure that he/she has a safe, efficient way to attend school.
- For just $30 you can ensure that a child receives immediate, physical spiritual, emotional support at a Compassion center while they wait to be sponsored.
- For just $42 you can provide chickens so that parents can become self-sufficient which leads to healthier children.
- For just $14 you can provide a mother and child with food and nutritional supplements, for one month helping ensure adequate weight and better health. You can provide that care for an entire year for just $168.
- For $13 you can help a malnourished child with food and medicine in an area plagued by food shortage.
- For just $30 you can help fill the gap of critical, unexpected situations for children and their families registered with Compassion, including emergency medical care, support following disasters and protection from abuse.
Check it out! Compassion Inc
Matthew 25:40 – And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the
“Miracle Boy”
Love and forgiveness among unbelievable tragedy
A few days ago I posted a blog regarding the persecuted church and showed a picture of a young boy whose face was horribly mutilated during an attack on his village. (http://barblaneblog.c`om/2015/11/27/i-will-not-let-them-suffer-alone/)
Thirteen–year–old Danjuma Shakaru was critically injured during an attack on his village in northern Nigeria on January 28, 2015. Muslim militants struck Danjuma on the head, arm and body with their machetes. His right eye was carved out, his genitals were cut off. Seeing his mangled, lifeless body covered in blood, the villagers who found him dug a grave for him. Before he could be buried, he regained consciousness and began crying and shouting. Taken to the hospital at the nearest city, workers there could not believe he would survive.
But survive he did!
Today, though his face is marked by horrendous scars where his right eye was carved out, his face shows a bright smile of joy for God had other plans for Danjuma.
In spite of what he has suffered, Danjuma is certain that God is still in control. He has no anger toward his attackers. “There is no problem,” he said. “I have allowed God to handle everything.”
I forgive them
Asked about his attackers, he said “I forgive them because they don’t know what they are doing,” he said, echoing the words of Christ. “If they had love, they wouldn’t behave that way.”
A defiant joy
While the attackers stole so much from Danjuma, they couldn’t take his joy. It is still evident on his face and in his voice. “The joy comes from the Lord,” he said.
Danjuma said his relationship with God has only grown stronger since the attack. He continues to pray regularly and seek God’s guidance. “God continues to guide and protect,” he said.
And today –
He recently had an operation that frees him from having to carry a bag for his urine. Voice of the Martyrs is sending him to a school for the blind where he can learn Braille. The hospital staff refers to him as “Miracle.”
Could/would I do the same?
As I read about this young man I have to ask myself, could I – would I forgive? I think of the times I get all upset because someone said something unkind about me – or they did not respond to my phone call or text. The words of Jesus ring in my ears:
You have heard that it has been said, You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I say unto Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you, and persecute you; that you may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for He makes His sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.
For if you love only those who love you, what good is that? Even scoundrels do that much. If you are friendly only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else? Even the heathen do that.
Be you therefore perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect.
What if we really did that?
What kind of a world would we have – how full would our churches be if we really completely did that?
I will not let them suffer alone!
A wonderful Thanksgiving!
It was a great Thanksgiving this year. Our youngest granddaughter spent the night before with us – and slept all snuggled up next to me. The morning brought her mother and father and while I made the scalloped potatoes and banana pudding that my family love, my daughter fixed all the rest of the food. Afterwards, my husband and son-in-law cleaned up.
The family gathered around the table was not as many as in years past as our children and grandchildren are scattered all around the USA, but I was thankful for the calls and texts from many of them.
So much to be thankful for:
- While we have aches and pains, none of my family have any life-threatening illnesses.
- My children all have jobs/homes.
- I have a terrific husband.
But what about the rest of the world?
As we all rush out to find great bargains on this “black Friday” I think of those who did not sit down yesterday to a table loaded with delicious food. Those who did not lay their body down last night on a soft, comfortable bed with warm blankets.
My thoughts last night were especially of my Christian brothers and sisters who are being persecuted for their faith in Jesus Christ. For them, there was no big meal with family and friends all gathered around. Many are in prison and have not seen their families in weeks, months, even years. For them, there was not a big shopping day.
But what can I do about it?
Many times we feel like there is nothing we can do about people suffering on the other side of the world. We do not have enough money, enough political power, no army. What can we do?
There is much we can do!
Start with prayer.
We often say to someone who shares a need that we cannot fix, “All I can do is pray.” But never under-estimate the power of prayer.
Samuel M. Zwemer, a missionary and Christian scholar on Islam, said: “The history of missions is the history of answered prayer…it is the key to the whole missionary problem. All human means are secondary.” J. Oswald Sanders said: “[Prayer] is fundamental, not supplementary…. All progress can be clearly traced back to prevailing prayer.”
How can we pray?
- Pray for God to move in the hearts of Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, so that they may know Christ (1 Timothy 2:4).
- Pray for God to change the hearts of governmental authorities (Proverbs 21:1).
Pastor Wurmbrand (founder of Voice of the Martyrs) writes how God used him while he was in prison. He credits having the courage and strength to be a witness and survive the harsh treatment of prison to the prayers of God’s people.
This is part of his story!
In Romania, Pastor Wurmbrand was interrogated many times during his 14 years in prison. One of his interrogators, Lieutenant Grecu, questioned Pastor Wurmbrand about his activities with the underground church. Wurmbrand described Grecu as “a tough young man… indoctrinated with the belief that he was making a better world.”
After accusing Pastor Wurmbrand of lying about his contacts, Grecu ordered him to write out all the rules that Pastor broke in prison. Pastor Wurmbrand willingly sat at the table to write out his “declaration.” It had been two years since he had held a pen, so it was difficult to write. He persisted in writing all the rules he had broken, ending his “confession” with: “I have never spoken against the Communists. I am a disciple of Christ, who had given us love for our enemies. I understand them and pray for their conversion so that they will become my brothers in the Faith….”
When Grecu read the “declaration,” he was overwhelmed that Pastor could write of his love for a government that had put him in prison and tortured him. Grecu said, “This is one of your Christian commandments that no one can keep.” To that, Pastor lovingly responded: “It’s not a matter of keeping a commandment. When I became a Christian, it was as if I had been reborn, with a new character full of love. Just as only water can flow from a spring, so only love can come from a loving heart.”
Over time, Pastor had more opportunities to talk about Christ with Lieutenant Grecu. One day he had the wonderful privilege, in his own prison cell, to see Grecu come to Christ.
Don’t let them suffer alone!
Pray. Write letters. Educate yourself about the persecution in the world. Check out http://www.persecution.com/
Grandma's Ramblings 