As Richard walked to church that winter morning in Bucharest, members of the secret police abducted him, taking away not only the comfortable life he had known but also his identity. “From now on,” they told him, “you are Vasile Georgescu,” labeling him with a generic Romanian name to conceal his true identity.

He disappeared without a trace, and Sabina had no information beyond the outrageous rumors she had heard: One said he had been taken to Russia, while another claimed he had died under interrogation. Though overwhelmed with worry from not knowing where Richard was or if he was even alive, she continued to minister to the spiritual and material needs of others and continued Richard’s work.

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Like Richard and Sabina, many Christian couples today bear their cross together as they work to advance the kingdom in restricted nations and hostile areas around the world. While they may not specifically pray for a cross to bear, they know their work comes with a price. Couples willingly take up their cross, understanding that not doing God’s work is far more dangerous than doing his work, as Sabina once said.

After being ransomed out of Romania in 1965 and arriving in the West, Richard and Sabina discovered a new cross to bear, one they took up tirelessly: “The West sleeps and must be awakened to see the plight of captive nations,” Richard wrote.

As members of Christ’s body, we are all called to bear a cross together as we advance God’s kingdom. Our crosses may come in the form of an unbelieving family member, a spouse uninterested in the Great Commission, a medical diagnosis or loss of employment. But whatever it is, the testimonies of our brothers and sisters in Christ encourage us as we bear our cross.

The married couple now train and disciple Christians from 10 tribes, visiting each tribe for two to three days at a time. “The work of God is increasing, and there are more tribes to work with,” Bao said. Those from tribal groups are generally viewed as second-class citizens in Vietnam, and even Christian workers rarely reach out to them. Most evangelical work in the country is focused on those living in larger cities.

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Bao, Chi and their two children moved to a village among the H’re people in 2004, farming, raising livestock and building relationships. They soon expanded their outreach to other tribes, requiring them to travel the muddy, mountainous roads by motorbike to reach remote villages.

As they meet with Christians from each tribe, usually in groups of 20 people or more, they spend the first two days introducing them to an evangelistic training program that takes two years to complete. The lessons focus on the Old Testament, New Testament, hermeneutics, general doctrines, spiritual growth and discipleship. The third day of training is devoted to large evangelism events, which often result in harassment from police and villagers.

Throughout the training, Bao and Chi emphasize that Christians in Vietnam should expect to face persecution. “Part of the curriculum is sharing about persecution in the Bible,” Bao said. “The first church faced persecution, and the church faces persecution now, so I train the churches in persecution.”

Bao said believers in Vietnam face persecution through their families, their communities, their jobs and the government. “Persecution must take place,” he said. “It must happen to the church, but for my experience the church grew even though it faced a lot of persecution. The more persecution, the more they grow strong in their faith.”

To make the best use of their time, Bao and Chi often travel separately, with Chi primarily teaching the women of the village. Their 21-year-old daughter and 11-year-old son stay with grandparents when they’re both away.

Bao and Chi have been arrested individually too many times to count, and they’ve been detained as a couple four times in the past five years. The routine arrests and interrogations are intended to discourage the couple from continuing their work, and authorities often ask them to sign a document promising to stop their work and pay a fine. But Bao and Chi boldly and faithfully refuse to make either promise.

The first time they were arrested together, in 2015, Bao had taken every precaution to avoid arrest. “The local authorities allow believers to pray,” Bao explained. “When you pray, you close your eyes and it’s OK. They don’t allow you to teach or preach, so one time while I was preaching, I closed my eyes; this means, ‘I’m praying.’”

Since he couldn’t read the Bible with his eyes closed, Bao had memorized his scriptures for the day in advance. But within 15 minutes of beginning his “prayer,” more than 20 police officers armed with guns, sticks and knives had surrounded the house. Although someone notified Bao of the police presence, he continued his “prayer.”

“By the end of my ‘prayer,’ I feel the gun in my back,” he said. Bao, Chi, the owner of the home in which they were meeting, and three deacons were taken to the police station, where they were interrogated and later released.

In another incident, Chi narrowly escaped a serious confrontation with police while teaching more than 50 tribal children. In the middle of a lesson, someone whispered in her ear that about 15 plainclothes policemen were looking for her. And three uniformed officers soon joined the search, intent on arresting her for sharing the gospel in their village. Her husband, Bao, had already left for another village, and Chi knew she could face serious trouble if caught. “They often persecute Christians in that area,” she said. “They buried one brother while he was still alive.”

Chi escaped with the help of some local women, none of whom were detained by police. She knows she would have been arrested if she hadn’t escaped and suspects she would have been treated very badly. “If I said that I am not afraid of the persecution or to be killed, it would not be true,” she said.

Still, Bao and Chi said they are prepared for more persecution. “Step by step, we can do the ministry,” Bao said. “If God wills, we face persecution … and remember to pray for unity between us [as] husband and wife. That is the most important thing.”

But Mai chose to marry Pastor Giang against the wishes of family and friends, and she soon paid a price for it. When the Vietnamese government learned that she had married a pastor and later confirmed that she had also become a Christian, they fired her from her position as vice principal of the school.

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At first Mai worried about being unemployed, but Giang, who had himself experienced trouble finding jobs in the past, read her verses of Scripture and assured her of God’s provision. Soon Mai found a new purpose — serving the Lord alongside her husband.

With Mai’s background in education and Giang’s experience in ministry, they began teaching children in their village how to write and speak Vietnamese. The children, who ranged in age from 6 to 17, were members of an ethnic group that has its own language. Every evening, the children gathered on the dirt floor of the couple’s home for a one-hour lesson; since their home had no electricity, they had to stop at sunset.

Two months into the lessons, Mai and Giang shared the gospel with the children. They knew it was risky since they lived in a Communist area and some of the children’s fathers were policemen, but they were determined. “I was not afraid,” Mai said. “Most of them go back home and share the gospel with their parents. Their parents did not make trouble.” Eventually their class grew to 32 students, requiring them to form a second class.

Then, in 2015, Mai and Giang started training young people to become Christian workers, even sending them out to share the gospel in different regions. When two young men from their first class of 15 students went to a Communist hero village, a village where a popular Communist leader once lived, a policeman warned one of them not to evangelize in the area. The student then called Giang to ask for guidance.

Giang was at first worried about his students going to the Communist hero village, but then he asked them, “Did you pray?” When they assured him that they had indeed prayed, he was at peace with their plans. He counsels his students to pray as they make plans to visit an area, and if they are not at peace about going, “You don’t go,” he said. The students’ efforts are bearing eternal fruit, as one group had 21 people come to faith in Christ after they shared the gospel with 200 villagers. Though Mai lost her job as vice principal of the school, the Lord gave her and Giang a new opportunity to minister together — reaching children of communists with the gospel and training Christian workers to advance God’s kingdom in Vietnam.

Emmanuel has many painful childhood memories.

He will never forget the fear he felt every time Vietnamese authorities arrested his father while preaching at a Sunday service or while teaching believers from various tribes at their home. He would sometimes cling to his father’s leg, trying to prevent the police from taking his daddy. And he still remembers the loneliness and abandonment he felt while his father was imprisoned.

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Emmanuel resented his father’s work, and it didn’t end when his father was out of prison. The resentment resurfaced every time his father was unable to attend a special school event because of his ministry work.

Emmanuel often climbed to the top of a coconut tree to cry and vent his frustration toward his father and God in private. Then, at age 11, Emmanuel’s bitterness reached a new level as his father began to serve what became three years in prison.

“I got angry with my father,” Emmanuel said. “Sometimes I didn’t even want to visit my father in prison.”

Despite his father’s boldness as a pastor, Emmanuel lacked confidence in his faith. He often hid during church gatherings and youth events.

“I was afraid somebody would ask me to pray or do something,” he said, his face showing traces of his youthful shyness.

As a teenager, Emmanuel spent much of his free time lifting weights; he found that it increased his confidence and relieved aggression. But after years of travel from province to province for bodybuilding competitions, he eventually began to view his faith as the source of true strength.

At age 19 he attended a year-long Bible school for youth in Ho Chi Minh City, and when he returned home he was appointed youth leader for more than 400 children and teenagers at his church. Although initially anxious about the position, he found peace through prayer as he accepted the new role.

“I felt joy when I was with the youth, so sometimes I didn’t want to go home,” he said. “I wanted to be with the young people in the church.”

Two years later, Emmanuel took advantage of his bodybuilding background to serve as his father’s bodyguard, traveling to dangerous parts of Vietnam with him for several days each week.

He recalls an incident in the mountainous Central Highlands region in which he and his father narrowly escaped traps set by robbers. Their motorbikes were able to snap the ropes that had been set by thieves hoping to steal their motorbikes after stopping them along the road.

“At that time, God protected,” Emmanuel said.

During the six years he spent alongside his father, Emmanuel saw not only his dad but also God at work.

“I did not realize the importance of ministry,” he said. “I intended to go with my father to protect him and just do ordinary work, but later God showed me what I had been through was the way He was training me for my future in ministry.”

***

Emmanuel’s father, now in his late 60s, is still committed to advancing God’s kingdom despite many health issues. After spending two months in the hospital, he persuaded his doctors to let him out just long enough to preach a service at his church. After preaching, he returned to the hospital to continue treatment. His determination and devotion to God are sources of great inspiration for Emmanuel.

“I feel that God is still allowing my father to see the fruit [of his ministry],” he said. “We pray God’s will be done.”

Emmanuel’s own ministry today mirrors his father’s. He regularly visits villages and shares the gospel among tribes that practice ancestor worship, which often leads to persecution because the tribal leaders forbid villagers from leaving their traditional religion. Following in his father’s footsteps, Emmanuel typically travels for days at a time, far from his wife and their young daughter.

Christians in Vietnam are opposed by government authorities when they evangelize outside the church or attempt to conduct community events, and Emmanuel has been confronted repeatedly by authorities about his ministry work.

Several years ago, police made him report to the police station every day for two weeks in an attempt to intimidate him. And today they occasionally “investigate” his outreach efforts, especially when he and others are ministering to children, but he has not yet been arrested.

The people he shares the gospel with and the persecution he has faced as a result have helped Emmanuel better understand his childhood and see it in a new light. He has forgiven his father.

“Now I understand why my father sacrificed,” he said. “I feel and understand the calling of God; that is why I am willing to do it. My ministry is the same as my father’s before. I live more for Him now.”

When he considers his father’s legacy, Emmanuel said he admires more than ever his father’s faithfulness and devotion to the gospel. Many people from different tribes came to trust in Jesus because Emmanuel’s father was willing to sacrifice time at home with his family. And Emmanuel now understands that his temporal loss was their eternal gain.

Viewing his father’s ministry through the lens of his own current work, Emmanuel said he sees not only the good that his father did for the kingdom but also the good he did for his family.

“He left for us a good name,” Emmanuel said, smiling. “He did not give us a lot of money or property, but he gave us a good name and good reputation. Whenever we go from place to place, people know him, appreciate him, respect him and love him very much. He has been a good example to follow.”

Boldly Sharing the Faith

Hy and Tan are from northern Vietnam. The two men became believers in 1996 after hearing VOM-sponsored Christian radio programing by the Far East Broadcasting Company (FEBC). The new Christians dedicated themselves to sharing the gospel with the tribal people in their area, most of whom have animist beliefs.

This area is difficult for new believers and evangelists. Believers face imprisonment at the hands of communist government officials and harassment from village leaders. Despite the obstacles, Hy and Tan regularly shared their faith. Within just two years, everyone in their village had become Christians. The two evangelists led a regular church service and continued to minister in new areas.

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Beaten for Evangelism

One day, while leaving a village where they had been working, Hy and Tan were stopped by authorities and taken to the village police station. After being handcuffed together, they were told that it was illegal to proclaim the gospel. Police officers began hitting them, punching them and even twisting their ears. The officers confiscated their ID cards and mobile phones, demanding that they stop evangelizing.

When police learned that three village families had turned to Christ and had given their ancestral idols to Hy and Tan to burn, they angrily told Hy and Tan to return the idols and re-establish the families’ worship of these gods. “I cannot do that,” Hy replied. “I am a Christian.” The beating continued into the night and again the following day. The evangelists’ faces swelled and their bodies ached from the beatings.

After two days of beatings, Hy and Tan were dragged into the village square, still handcuffed together. The third day of beatings would be very different. The police had invited the entire village to take part in their punishment. Some villagers kicked and punched them, while others hit them with police batons. Some of the women yanked out the men’s hair and slapped them on the face.

As the men were beaten, the villagers jeered and hurled insults. “Call upon your Jesus now to take these chains off you,” they mocked. “He will feed you — you will need no rice from the government.”

Then someone shoved a dirty pig trough in front of the men. The mob forced Hy and Tan to eat cooked rice out of the trough. Though humiliated and physically exhausted, the men remained silent.

Later, Tan said that as they received each blow, they remembered how Jesus had been beaten. That gave them strength to endure the three-hour beating. Finally, the police released them. “Our whole bodies were battered and bruised, and we ached all over,” Tan recalled. “My face was so swollen that I could not see out of one eye.”

A Lasting Testimony

After returning to their families, Hy and Tan were immediately taken to a hospital, where they spent seven days recuperating. Once home, they received a document from village officials warning them that if they returned to the village, they would be killed. Both men refused to sign the document. Knowing that the new believers in the village were likely under great pressure, Hy immediately called to reassure them. “I still want to come visit you,” he told them. “But we will have to come secretly.”

Since it is too dangerous to travel to the village on a regular basis, Hy often encourages the new believers by praying with them and reading the Bible to them on his cellphone. During a phone call in 2015, the believers told Hy that another family from their village had placed their faith in Jesus.

Throughout areas of Vietnam where Christians face persecution, VOM helps train evangelists like Hy and Tan and provides Christian DVDs, literature and Bibles for distribution. We also provide support to the families of men and women imprisoned because of their faith and help families who are evicted from their villages after becoming Christians.

Though Hy and Tan can no longer visit the village where they were beaten, the testimony of their faithfulness is still reaching people there. A family that witnessed the evangelists’ brutal beating traveled to their village to speak with them. “Vien,” who was seriously ill, came to ask if his family could receive salvation and healing. The evangelists and their church prayed for Vien, and he recovered from his illness. He is now healthy and actively shares his testimony with others in his village.

When a VOM worker asked Vien if he would ever leave the Christian faith, he replied, “No, I would not. Even if it meant I had to die, I would not leave Jesus. Even if I were evicted from the village, I still believe that Jesus would take care of me and my family.”

After leading his Hmong congregation in prayer one Sunday morning in the fall of 2002, Pastor Foom Chao opened his eyes to the alarming sight of several Vietnamese police officers waiting to arrest him.

Foom had been detained more than 10 times for bringing Bibles to the Hmong people in the jungles of Vietnam, but authorities had never before interrupted a church service to arrest him. As the officers handcuffed Foom and led him away, they told him this would be the last time.

“We will never let you be free anymore,” the arresting officer said.

Foom realized he might never see his wife and three children again, and he considered the possibility that the authorities might even kill him. So as the officers escorted the handcuffed pastor across a stony path in the middle of a river, he suddenly turned and ran toward nearby mountains.

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The police officers chased Foom into the jungle but lost him in the thick green foliage. As the sun began to set, Foom hid quietly on the mountain and prayed to God.

“The Bible says You help the one whom You love,” he prayed. “Please, if You want to use me in Your ministry, please help me as I have no way to do it. I have nowhere to go. Help me to escape these people.”

On the Run

Foom hid on the mountain for two nights. Once he felt safe to leave, he hiked down to a nearby Hmong village that he knew had a church. There he found someone to cut the chain on his handcuffs, freeing his arms.

Later that evening, Christians in the village took him to the main road, where he found a ride to Hanoi. He hoped to explain his situation and get help from the leader of his denomination.

Vietnam has a population of 96 million and is predominantly Buddhist, but there are nearly 10 million Christians there. Roughly 400,000 of the Christians are Hmong, and the number is growing. The country’s Communist leaders have long considered Christianity to be a U.S. propaganda tool.

On his way to Hanoi, Foom traveled through multiple police checkpoints where officers searched vehicles for a man in handcuffs. The sleeves of Foom’s jacket concealed the cuffs still locked on his wrists.

After arriving in Hanoi, Foom found the office of his church denomination and met with the president. He revealed his handcuffs, shared the story of his escape and asked the president for help. But since police had been cracking down on those spreading Christianity among the Hmong people, the president was reluctant to help a fugitive Hmong pastor.

“That’s a very big problem,” the president told him. “Sorry. You are Hmong, so we cannot help you.”

The president arranged to get Foom a hotel room for the night, but when the hotel clerk saw Foom’s passport, he immediately called police, and Foom was rearrested.

When Foom got to the jail, police took his belt off and repeatedly whipped him with it. The next morning, they beat him again before interrogating him. After Foom explained that his only “crime” was becoming a Christian and sharing his faith in the north, the Hanoi police called the police station in the north and told them to come get him.

This time Foom was handcuffed with his thumbs bent toward his arms. Since he could not use his hands, the guards forced him to eat his food from a bowl like a dog.

Finally, after a week, the guards loosened the handcuffs. Every day, they demanded that Foom sign a document stating that Christianity is a false religion from the United States. But each time he refused to sign, and he spent another three weeks in jail as a result.

Standing for Jesus

After a month of failed attempts at persuading Foom to sign the document, the officers lost their patience. Grabbing his hand, they forced him to place his index finger on an ink pad and “sign” the document denying Jesus, with his fingerprint as his signature.

Foom was then taken to a courtyard where police had gathered 400 Hmong Christians. They escorted their prisoner to the front of the crowd, lifted up the document and told the Christians that Pastor Foom had rejected the foreign religion of Christianity. The officers then ordered the crowd of Hmong believers to reject Jesus.

Knowing that most of the Christians spoke Hmong and that the police did not, Foom said, “I want to let you know I am not wrong. They forced me to give my fingerprint. Jesus is true, and I want to continue to be a Christian. It is up to you if you want to continue to believe in Jesus. For me, I won’t deny him.”

Seeing the Christians stand and clap for the pastor, the police realized Foom had not said what they had ordered him to say. They angrily rushed him away before beating him again, but they knew there was nothing else they could do with him. Foom was released from jail and ordered to never leave his village.

“I praise God that the police beat me and persecuted me,” he said. “I just thank God that situation happened to me because after the persecution, many Hmong became Christians. It also made the church leaders strong in their faith and helps them continue to serve God.”

Foom said he forgives the officers who beat him and tortured him with the handcuffs. In fact, since his release, many of them have attended Hmong New Year’s celebrations that Foom hosts at his house each year. The officers still bring him gifts and apologize for the way they treated him.

Since his release from jail, Foom has traveled outside his village numerous times to share the gospel, and he also oversees a network of nearly 70 churches in two provinces. While churches can operate freely and openly in many parts of Vietnam, most of the Hmong churches Foom visits must operate secretly as house churches.

“The police are very strict and watch the Christians,” he said. “I have to go underground secretly to visit them.”

In 2018, VOM helped purchase a motorcycle for Foom. We also support the evangelistic training he provides in a number of villages as well as his work of encouraging and praying for other believers who have experienced persecution.

Foom fully expects to be imprisoned again, but he knows that if it happens, God will use the experience to grow His church among the Hmong people in Vietnam.

The village, known as a “Communist hero village,” was home to a number of soldiers who died fighting against the United States in the Vietnam War. The villagers take great pride in the fallen heroes from their community and deeply treasure their communist way of life. Many of the villagers lived there during the war and remember those who died.

In a country where most of the population practices ancestor worship, the veneration of those who fought and died for communism is considered a sacred duty. The fallen heroes are viewed by some to be guardian spirits of the village, and their memory is invoked to promote nationalism and communist pride.

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Initially, Linh’s husband didn’t want her to work in the village; he was afraid she would be arrested. Over time, however, he felt compelled to support her, and he continues to pray for her success. Although he travels to the village with her each time, he stays with the motorbike as Linh shares the gospel.

Not just anyone can enter the Communist hero village Linh visits. She gained permission in 2007 only because her husband had grown up there. And those living in hero villages must have had at least one family member who served with distinction during the war.

“It’s hard for a stranger to come into the village,” Linh said, “but if you have friends or relatives in the village you can come through them. They still observe you and … what you are doing.”

Linh’s family also has ties to communism. Her father was a loyal Communist Party member and colonel in the Vietnamese military. But when he and Linh’s mother became followers of Jesus, the military kicked him out.

Growing in Boldness in Vietnam

Linh developed her boldness and passion for evangelism through a VOM-supported, two-year discipleship training course that she completed in 2005.

“If I didn’t attend the training course, I wouldn’t be doing this,” she said. “It helped me understand more about the life of Christ and helped me understand God. It also helped me learn how to share the gospel and how to lead people to the Lord.”

On weekends, Linh goes house to house in the Communist hero village sharing the gospel with everyone — male or female, young or old. She works to establish and build relationships with them, understanding that she is not selling something but rather sharing Someone — Jesus Christ.

“Before I enter a house, I pray for the family inside,” she said. “If they are willing to accept Christ, I lead them in prayer. If not, I leave.”

If they do accept Jesus, she returns regularly to pray with and encourage them, teaching them worship songs and Bible basics. Many who initially reject the gospel become interested later, after their neighbors have accepted Jesus.

Since 2007, when Linh started visiting the village, more than 300 people in the village of about 1,000 have accepted Jesus.

“Before, nobody in that village accepted the Lord,” Linh said. “There were no Christians. That is why God moved me to go there. Even though I was scared, I saw many lost people there, so I knew I must sacrifice myself to preach the gospel.”

Arguing that Christianity is an American enemy of communism, authorities have repeatedly warned Linh that they will arrest her if she continues to preach the gospel and bring Christianity to the village.

But Linh is unmoved in her determination to share God’s gracious gift of salvation. “If you want to arrest me, then arrest me,” she tells them. “I am doing nothing wrong.”

Linh varies the times and days of her visits so authorities won’t know when to expect her. She does her best to avoid villagers who oppose her and report her to the authorities, but she remains kind and loving when confronted.

“Through persecution, my faith in the Lord has become stronger,” she said.

Unfinished Work

Linh has two sons and two daughters ranging in age from 16 to 22, as well as one grandchild. She misses them every weekend.

“My children back home don’t have me during those days,” she said, “so that’s a challenge.” She knows, however, that the sacrifice is worth it; her work is leading people into a relationship with Jesus.

Linh is now leading dozens of new Christians — most are about 20 years old — through the same discipleship course she completed. She has also started a house church in the village. On average, about 50 believers gather for worship each Sunday, meeting in different homes each week to avoid detection. Increasing persecution from other villagers has kept the group smaller than it could be.

In 2016, relatives of Linh’s husband gave the couple a piece of land in the village so they could establish a banana farm and eventually live and work there. Although they have not yet built a home on the land, they have recently begun staying with villagers through the week as they prepare to farm the land. The harder Linh works to expand God’s kingdom, the more supportive her husband becomes of her work.

Linh asks us to pray that she will be able to continue sharing the gospel in the Communist hero village, especially when she is tired or misses her family. And she also asks us to pray for those who have not yet accepted Jesus.

The high school teacher’s harsh words neither surprised nor discouraged young Hanh. Ever since seeing how the gospel had changed his alcoholic father, he had wanted to follow Christ and tell others about Him. But being a Christian and sharing your faith in communist Vietnam are not without consequence. Sharing Christ is illegal, and Hanh knew it. Those who evangelize are harshly reprimanded. Some have been fined or kicked out of school, while others have been beaten, imprisoned and expelled from their villages.

Hanh is one of several dozen young Vietnamese Christians completing a Bible study on the life of Christ. The group first began meeting two days a week to go through the six-book series, but their hunger to learn was so great that they decided to meet nightly.

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After being confronted by his angry high school teacher, Hanh prayerfully considered his response. “I will stop following Christ if you can explain one thing for me,” he said. “Why does the cow eat grass, which is green, but when it creates milk it is white?”

At a loss for words, the teacher immediately marched Hanh to the principal’s office, hoping he would be kicked out of school. Instead of fearing the principal’s actions, however, Hanh shared his faith with him. The principal eventually dismissed Hanh after cautioning him not to evangelize at school.

Hanh chose not to heed the principal’s warning. Like the apostles, he could not help but speak the things that he had seen and heard (Acts 4:20).

Hanh isn’t the only student in his group being persecuted for telling others about Jesus. A VOM worker said the police are offering gangsters money to stop the young Bible students. The gangsters threaten to beat the students if they share the gospel, and on one occasion they poured sand in the gas tanks of the students’ motorcycles, ruining the motors. The students had to leave them outside a remote village and walk the rest of the way. “But the students have not given up,” the worker said. “They have continued to go back.”

Colombia: “Today No Preaching”

Asking for permission to preach is a way of life for “Leonardo.” Merely forgetting or refusing to ask can result in death at the hands of the guerrillas or paramilitaries in Colombia’s “red zones.” Pastors in these areas are viewed as obstacles to the groups’ political ambitions because young people who become Christians are no longer attracted to the groups’ violent lifestyles.

“They give you a time to start preaching, and you have to begin and be done at that time,” Leonardo explained. “There was no nighttime preaching or walking outside [allowed], and I always had to give a note if I was going to go anywhere.”

Leonardo’s church soon transferred him to a different area, where he worked with people who had been displaced by guerrilla groups in the red zones. But his new home was not free from opposition, either. “There are gangs, hitmen,” he said. “I have been there two years. Two times they have not let me preach.” The gangs stopped Leonardo in front of his church and denied him entrance, saying, “Today no preaching!”

But Leonardo found another place to preach. With a speaker and microphone in hand, he began preaching outdoors. He first began preaching to young boys, and in a short amount of time his outdoor church grew to include 70 adults and 53 children. Most had never heard the gospel, but they soon placed their faith in Christ and were baptized. Now Leonardo is training several others to preach.

He knows it is dangerous to share the gospel so openly, but he also knows that he is not alone. God is with him, and he has the prayers and support of his brothers and sisters around the world. “I feel the warmth of my brothers outside … the appreciation you have for us, our service.”

“No” Means New Opportunities

When authorities told Hanh and Leonardo to stop preaching, they found even more opportunities to share the gospel. VOM comes alongside these front-line workers to equip them with the resources they need for evangelism and discipleship.

Jesus told us to go and teach all nations; he said nothing about getting permission from others (Matt. 28:18–20). Our persecuted family members are obediently living and evangelizing in some of the world’s most difficult mission fields. May our Christian witness be unhindered by earthly restrictions and empowered by the Holy Spirit.