Hope

Hope

I watched my Father's chest rise and fall... his ribs really.  I can't really call it a chest.  He's mere bones.  A man's chest is strong, muscular, firm, heavy.  Not small, weak, frail... boney.   His body looked like a holocaust victim. No grown man should weigh 90 pounds. It's not right.  I shifted to his eyes.  They seemed to have disappeared with his body.  Not right at all.  It was a depressing sight.

It seems all my growing up years were etched with sadness.  As I was sitting with Dad, my Mother and I were reminiscing over the years.

When I was twelve, I came home from school and my sister, Sue, wasn't feeling well.  I looked at one of my other sisters, Darla, and rolled my eyes.  It seemed like Sue was always sick.  Little did I know that this afternoon was a lot different.  Mom told Darla to call the ambulance but for some reason, Dar couldn't get through, so Mom got on the phone.  All of a sudden, Susie yelled out "I'm going to have a seizure!" then went limp in the chair.  It obviously was not a seizure.

She stopped breathing and Mom cried out for Darla and I to start CPR.  Darla was 15 and I was 12.  It floors me to think of that.  Micayla is 15 and Nikki will be 12 in a couple of weeks.  Susie was just a little thing, but she was so heavy to Darla and I.  It took everything within us to lift her to the floor.  I start the ventilations and Darla was doing the chest compressions.  The whole time was surreal to me.  I couldn't believe this was happening.  My mom got off the phone; the ambulance was on its way.

A few moments later, Sue vomited in my mouth.  I completely broke down.  Mom took over while I went to the bathroom to clean up.  I told my Mom, for months I thought I had killed Sue.  I thought it was my fault because I didn't have her head tilted back far enough, all the air got in her belly instead of her lungs.  It was several months before I discovered it was a bleed in her brain stem that ruptured that caused her death.  She died in the chair; there was no bringing her back. Yet, I carried that guilt with me for so long.  I felt guilty because I rolled my eyes and didn't take her being sick seriously.  She was always sick.  Who knew she was really that sick?

Darla and I were so young.  It baffles me now.  She was 27, I was 12.

Then, the year after that the grandma that had lived with us for four years passed away.  I helped take care of her.  Helped bathe, feed, change, catheterize her... love her.  She died at our home.  I was 13.

Then the year after that, my other grandma died from cancer. I adored her. I was 14.

Then the year after that, my sister, Deanna died from breast cancer. She died in our living room.  She was 30, was 15.

Then the year after that, my brother, Dave died from adrenal gland cancer.  He died in our kitchen. He was 27,  I was 16.

Then the year after that, my brother, Joey died from heart complications. He died in my Mother's arms.    He was 4, I was 17.

Then the year after that, my sister, Angela died from complications in surgery.  She was 13, I was 18.

It sucked.  So much sadness.  So much sorrow.

I was reading in Lamentations last night.  What a sorrowful book. Basically this book of the Bible is five funeral poems.  This dirge talks of how awful Jerusalem is; how much she's crying; how barren and left alone. How betrayed, forsaken and forgotten she is.  Sad. But smack dab in the middle of this sad, miserable book, there is hope:

"Yet, this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail.  They are new every morning, great is Your faithfulness.

"I say to myself 'The Lord is my portion therefore I will wait for Him.' The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the one who seeks Him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.

"Let him sit along in silence, for the Lord has laid it on Him.  Let him bury his face in the dust-there may yet be hope.

"For men are not cast off by the Lord forever.  Though He brings grief, He will show compassion, so great is His unfailing love."  Lamentations 3: 23-26, 28-33

There is hope.  Although the storms may swell and rage, there is hope that the waters will be still and tranquil once again.

Although my family was dropping like flies on a window sill, I knew the Lord was going to be there every morning to hold my hand through the day.  I knew He was the one constant in my life that wouldn't change.

Even though I was angry, hurt, frustrated, confused, lonely, guilt-ridden and just plain sad... after all the flowers had lost it's petals, the cards had been put away, the visitors had forgotten us...I laid in my bed and soaked my pillow with tears.  It was the Lord who showed His compassion and love, looked at his heart broken daughter, picked me up, cradled me to His big, strong chest and rocked me back to healing.

Hope.

The Word tells us that the Lord "gives and takes away."  (Job 1:21 Message) My Dad's journey will soon be ending here and beginning in heaven.  My niece, Becky is about to give birth.  God's giving a new life; bringing home another.   He has cradled Becky's new child to His big, strong chest, and He will soon be welcoming my Father to His chest as well.  There is hope in the Lord.

Persecuted Church

November 14th is the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church.  My heart bleeds for these people that have given so much. Given their life. I’ve been trying to write this blog for over a week now.  I just can’t seem to get the right words out.  

When I worked at the church, I did a sermon with Pastor Mike on those that are suffering around the globe.  One Sunday night, it was “interactive.”  When the congregation came to the church, they were handed a slip of paper with an address on it.  It was one of three locations.  On it were directions and instructions.  “When you arrive to your home church, park several blocks away so as not to draw attention to your church. Knock on the door three times (Father, Son & Holy Spirit), so they know it is a member in Christ they are letting in. Remember!  It is very important that no one sees you!”  They entered the home and were led into a typical underground church experience.  They were given pages out of a Bible.  A treasure!  A rare treat in their part of the world. =) They were taught a lesson from it and then they sang worship songs ac-cappella.  Remembering all the while to keep their voices down...so they aren’t discovered. 

At some point, there was a “break in” by “rebels” and the church leader was “beaten.” He is told to deny Christ or go to prison.  He doesn’t and is taken out of the home and back to the church to the jail house that I created just for them.  It scared the crap out of some people.  It was awesome. It was all very dramatic.  All fictitious. All very real in another part of the world.

Over 200 million Christians a year in at least 60 countries are denied basic human rights solely because of their faith.  200 million!  A year!

It is estimated that 176,000 Christians have been martyred from 2008-2009.  That’s like annihilating the city of Janesville 3 times.  It also means that there are 482 deaths per day...one Christian dies every three minutes.

There has been more martyrs for Christ the last 100 years than all the years put together since Christ’s resurrection. 26 million documented cases.  Documented.

Christians around the world are persecuted because of what they think, say, believe and do.  They are stripped of their homes, clothes and food.  While I kiss my kids tonight, their children are drug in front of them, tortured, raped and killed.  While Rich protects my home, their husband is being gagged and beaten while he is forced to watch his home burned with his family still inside.

Literally thousands of people today are murdered, brutalized, sold as slaves imprisoned, tortured, threatened, discriminated against and arrested just because they are Christians. 

My heart aches for these people that bravely take a stand for Christ.  I hold them in the utmost regard.  I never had that kind of boldness when I was a kid or teenager.  I think most of my classmates knew that I was a Christian, but if push came to shove, would I have denied Christ for a spot at the cool table?  I would hope not.

As I came into adulthood, I became more aware of martyrdom.  I remember telling my dad, “If my life meant nothing, I would want my death to mean something.  If I could choose a way to die, I would want to die for Christ.”  But man, what a way to go.

One Christian in India while being skinned alive, looked at his persecutors and said, “I thank you for this.  Tear off my old garment, for I will soon put on Christ’s garment of righteousness.”

Geez.  That’s amazing to me.

As I was looking for pictures to put on this blog, I came across some horrifying pictures and videos.  I mean, seriously.  There was a picture of a woman who was beheaded because she was a Christian.  They showed it.  Her head was lying beside her body...tongue grossly engorged.  But what was even more appalling was that it was done by her husband.  See, she was a Muslim, and if they convert to Christianity, it is punishable by death.  It is an insult to a husband to have his wife “out of control.”  So to prove that he is a loyal Islam, he beheaded her.  Oh, man...sickening.  I'll never get that image out of my mind.  It will haunt me forever.  I bet she was beautiful.  

Then I stumbled on a video of Sudanese men.... if I can call them men. Torturing 5 men and women.  They beat them and set them on fire in a ditch on the side of the road.  One man was in a state of shock and just batted at the flames. Just sat there.  Didn’t even fight or try to move.  Just sat as the flames licked his flesh.  Another woman tried to run away; her dress tried to move, but stuck to her skin as the flames danced away; only to be beaten down and thrown into the fire.  Yet another man tried, ever so weakly, to crawl away, but he too was beaten mercilessly and tossed into the roaring flames.  It enveloped them.  All because they loved Jesus.  I was stunned.  Appalled.  Frozen...too sick to turn it off. I sat here with my hands covering my mouth saying, “Oh Jesus, oh God...help them.  Oh Jesus...” Knowing that it was too late for them.  Too late...  

There was a man this last September in Kenya who was part of an underground Christian movement who was murdered by Muslim insurgents in front of his wife and four kids for converting from Islam to Christianity and for teaching the gospel.

His wife was arrested and his four children were kidnapped and sold.  He had three sons, 15, 10 and 5; and one daughter 7.  Imagine what those poor kids are experiencing right now.  Especially that little girl.  My Abrieanna is 7.  I can’t imagine her being sold into slavery.  I can’t imagine her being sold into human trafficking. I can’t imagine her being raped, or beaten or hit, or...  Stop.  I just won’t imagine.  But it’s happening to someone’s child.

An Indian girl who had acid poured
on her face by attackers

North Korea is reportedly the worst persecutor of Christians.  Just being accused of being one will land you in prison for endless months.  They use Christians as guinea pigs to test chemical and biological weapons.  It has become today’s version of Auschwitz for Christians. 

There was a Korean officer that talked about a time when he was in the North Korean Army.  His unit was helping to demolish a vacated house when in the basement, between two bricks, they found a Bible and a small notebook that contained 25 names.  One identified a pastor, 2 assistant pastors, 2 elders and 20 other names...presumably parishioners.

They tracked the 25 people down, and without formal arrest or trial, were picked up and sent to prison.  In November of 1996 the 25 were brought to a road construction site where the five leaders were to be executed.  They were bound hand and foot and made to lie down in front of a steamroller.  According to this officer, this steamroller was a large construction vehicle imported from Japan with a heavy, huge and wide steel roller mounted on the front to crush and level the roadway prior to pouring concrete.  

Palestinian Church Destroyed

The other 20 were held just to the side.  The condemned were accused of being Christian spies and conspiring to engage in subversive activities.  Nevertheless they were told, “If you abandon religion and serve only Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il, you will not be killed.” None of the five said a word.  As the steamroller went forward, some of the fellow parishioners that were forced to watch the execution cried, screamed out, or fainted when the skulls made a popping sound as they were crushed beneath the weight.  They were then sent to work in the prison camp.

Persecution is EVERYWHERE!

In Pakistan, while a family walked into their church, Muslim militants surrounded the building, locked it and set it on fire. Two men, four women and a child was burnt alive.  

Instanbul, three Christians were bound and tortured before they were murdered at the Christian publishing house, where they worked, for speaking to people about their faith.

On April 2009, two Christian men were shot dead and another was injured by Muslim men after an Easter vigil in the south of Egypt. 

Back in 2002 an unidentified gunman killed Bonnie Penner Witherall at a prenatal clinic in Sidon, Lebanon.  She had been attempting to convert Muslims to Christianity.

Islamists looted and burned to the ground a Pentecostal Church in Tizi Ouzou, Algeria on January 9, 2010. The pastor said that worshippers fled when local police left a gang of local rioters unchecked.

The last story I’m going to share is about a 15 year old boy in Indonesia named Roy Pontoh. He was leaving Bible camp and the theme that year was “God’s Army.”

Roy Pontoh

One of the parents heard noises coming up out of the jungle; the Muslims and Jihad were coming.  This wasn’t good for the Christians.  They ran throughout the camp trying to hide the children and women; placing them in classrooms, bathrooms and cupboards.  They hid, and then they prayed.  Hard.

A short time later, the mob burst through the complex with machetes, spears, knives and clubs.  They killed the youth pastor and several of the leaders.  They hunted down everyone out of their hiding places and started beating them mercilessly.  Man, woman, teenager, and child.

Roy was one of the teenagers.  He was beaten several times.  He was dragged from the group and asked, “Who are you?”

Roy was extremely frightened. Though trembling lips, he answered, "I am a soldier of God!"

The man who asked him the question struck Roy with his machete and almost severed his left arm.

Again, he asked Roy the same the question Roy said, “I am a solider of God!” a little bolder this time.

The man struck Roy with his machete a second time and made a very big gash in his right shoulder.  This time, the man asked, "What is God's soldier?"

In much agony, Roy answered, "A soldier of God is ready to die for Christ."

The next swing of the man's machete ripped open Roy's stomach and he shouted, "Jesus!"

As Roy dropped to his knees, the killer sliced the teenager’s throat open. The mob dragged Roy's body out and threw it into a ditch, along with many other victims of the massacre that day.

Roy's parents heard of their son's last testimony of bravery from eyewitnesses. Even wracked with grief, they are proud of their son, who stood strong in his faith to the end. He was truly a light in the darkness.

A light in the darkness.  I guess that’s what this is all about.  Being a light.  

A couple years ago, on Christmas Eve, we had a candle light service. Just before we lit the candles, Pastor Mike had every light turned off in the sanctuary.  The windows were darkened.  The lights up in the sound room were off.  Even the cell phones were unlit.  It was pitch black.  Blacker than 100 midnights.  There was no presence of light anywhere.  I’m not gonna lie, it was a little creepy.  You couldn’t see, you’re senses were thrown off. You didn't know if something was going to jump out at you.  Of course it didn’t help when your husband grabbed your ribs and made you jump. =)  Darkness can be scary.

That’s what I imagine the persecuted church must feel like.  They’re shrouded in this darkness.  This ever-present, icy-fingered, wickedness.  It’s terrifying.  They feel alone, hopeless, helpless...scared. You never know when someone will snatch you, grab you, hit, harm, stab, rape, beat, torture... hurt you. 

But then, Pastor Mike lit his candle.  Just that one flame made a difference in that big sanctuary.  The dark fear that we had experienced just moments before gave way to hope. We could see the darkness fall away as more candles were lit.  Soon, the whole sanctuary was filled with light.  Every shadow dissipated.  There was no darkness left.  Just. Light.

That is what the persecuted church is.  Light.  They are the light in this world of darkness.  Where there is no hope, they bring Hope.  Where there is inky darkness, they shine brighter than any jewel.  It is the Light that is within them that does this.

I am amazed at their brilliance.  I’m in awe of their beauty, and stand in their shadow.  

Tertullian said, “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.”  Meaning, that if there was no one willing to give up their life for the sake of Christ, the Church wouldn’t grow.  Hmm.  Sad, yet powerful.

I read a life-changing book a few years ago called “The Heavenly Man” by Brother Yun.  He was a persecuted man out of China.  His story is short of fiction.  Filled with gut wrenching tales of murder, prison, starvation and torture.  He has long escaped the horrors of China and now gives his testimony around the world.  After one of his meetings a man came up to him and said, “I will pray that the persecution will end in China.”  Brother Yun replied, “No!  Do not pray for it to end!  Pray that we will have stronger backs to endure for another day.”  It amazes me to think that they are willing to suffer for Jesus.  Be tortured for Jesus.  Die for Jesus.

It inspired me to co-write a song based on those words: "Another Day"

"I've known all along this wouldn't be easy

The pain lasts so long

And my strength grows weak

Just send down a little more faith, Lord

"I don't want to give up hope, Lord 

I wanna see this thing through

I know your word is true

"I'll hold my hands up higher

Lord, it's my desire to live my life for you

Just give me the strength to endure all of this

For another day

"Move in this place

Take away all the darkness

Heal all these wounds

Take away the chains

Just send down a little more faith, Lord

One day I'll worship You in glory and I'll be free, free from all this hurt I've known."

You can listen to it here if you want. 

I’m forever changed by my brothers and sisters in chains.  International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church Novermber 14th? Yes, that day and every day. 

Oh. While you have read this blog, 3 Christians have died for the sake of the cross.  They're my heroes.