When a North Korean friend there shared the gospel with her in 2015, Sung-mi decided to visit her church and learn more about Jesus. But after attending a few services, she found it difficult to connect with church members and stopped attending. North Koreans often feel isolated in China. They avoid contact with Chinese people because they are there illegally.

Then, one day she happened to meet a VOM worker. “I was invited to his church,” Sung-mi recalled. “Over time, as I saw his honesty and service to other North Korean ladies, I started understanding what it means to live as a Christian.”

The VOM worker visited Sung-mi regularly and helped her with Bible study, eventually leading her to faith in Christ. “Christ came to my heart through the life of the VOM worker,” she said. “My heart filled up with joy as I came to know the Lord after 20 years of my life in China all by myself. Now, God and his people are with me.”

Finding Her Purpose

In 2017, the VOM worker invited Sung-mi to join him on a visit to some other North Korean women living in China. The trip moved her deeply.

“As I accompanied him on the visit, I could not believe how much effort he poured out,” Sung-mi said. “He had to drive from the early morning to the late evening to meet one North Korean lady. He was even physically weary, but he kept doing this work. Whenever we went to meet her, I saw him preparing and packing care packages for the person we would be going to meet. I had never seen people like him before.”

As they continued to meet with older North Korean women, Sung-mi wondered why the worker continued to take the visits so seriously. “Isn’t this just too much?” she asked. “It is too painful to visit such poor ladies who nobody is ever concerned about. You must feel exhausted. I feel sorry for you.”

The worker looked her in the eyes and said, “Dear sister, it is my joy and honor to serve the Lord. I feel true joy in this work.”

“It was a new world to me,” Sung-mi said.

As she continued traveling with the worker to visit women living in poverty, she began to enjoy the ministry and awaken to the needs of others. “I used to always think that my life was so miserable, but now I came to the realization that some of my people suffer greater than me,” she said. “I began to feel what it means to serve the Lord. Like the VOM worker said before, I felt true joy as I served other people. I found something valuable in my life.”

The care packages they deliver are more than just a means of blessing them. They are also a way to share the love of Christ with them. “I hope that each one comes to believe in the Lord and to have strong faith to endure it and carry on,” Sung-mi said.

Sung-mi regularly helps deliver the packages, typically distributing them to two people each trip. Prior to distribution day, she helps the VOM worker schedule the visits. Then, on the day of the visits, they spend a couple of hours purchasing items from local shops and filling the packs with personal care items, medicine, clothes and an audio-Bible device.

“After that, we got in the car and sometimes would have to travel for four hours just to get to the location,” she said. “After spending a couple of hours at the homes, worshiping and fellowshipping, I could feel and see the dramatic change of their spiritual condition on their face.”

Out on Her Own

After learning the basics of ministry work among North Korean women in China, Sung-mi started visiting them by herself. On two memorable visits, she brought care packages to a divorced mother of two living on top of a mountain and visited a woman suffering from terminal lung cancer. Sung-mi was so moved by their stories that she gave them each gifts using her own money.

Some of her trips to meet North Korean women have taken her into rural areas of China where she is quickly detected as an outsider. “If I visit other women in their home, people begin to be curious and suspicious about what is going on,” she said. “If we ever sing or pray aloud at the home, the people sometimes report it to the police because people do not like Christianity. I was sold when I was young. I risked getting fined or even sent back to North Korea if police showed up. However, the police know we are here.”

Often, she said, the police tell her and those she is traveling with not to gather at people’s homes. “When I read the Bible, I realized that nobody could stop us from gathering to worship God,” she said. “I kept visiting and delivering [the care packages] and the gospel to other people.”

She frequently hears from those who receive the care packages, staying in touch through a messaging app.

“You cannot imagine how much even one tube of toothpaste produces such great gratitude,” Sung-mi said. “They are just so thankful for these packages and for God’s Word. The packs are very important because they can actually be blessings to meet both physical and spiritual needs.”

Because she knows personally the value of the care packages from her time in China, she is committed to participating in VOM’s ministry to provide them to North Koreans not only in South Korea where she now lives, but as a missionary in training wherever North Koreans are found.

“This work must not stop,” she said.

As a high-ranking member of North Korea’s State Security Department (SSP), he knew his wife’s crime, which was punishable by death, could implicate him, too. In fact, their entire family could be executed because she was selling “propaganda” from the south on the black market.

To delay his capture and potentially save his teenage children, Kun-woo fled to Yanji, China. Meanwhile, Min-ji’s relatives, also SSP officials, took in the children and bribed those who oversaw her case to reduce her sentence. So instead of death, she received a prison sentence.

Kun-woo returned to North Korea following Min-ji’s release from prison, but he was not the same man Min-ji remembered. He could not stop talking about a book called the Bible and a being named God who hears our prayers. A family he met in China had told him about the Good News of Jesus Christ, and now every time Kun-woo ate a meal with his family, he gave thanks to the Lord.

“I thought he was crazy,” Min-ji told a VOM worker.

Problematic Prayers

In the four months the family was together, Kun-woo’s prayers became troublesome, as he began praying even with people outside the family. In North Korea, neighbors are required to spy on each other, so Christians must pray in secret. And sharing the gospel is even more dangerous than prayer; a simple mention of Jesus Christ can lead to arrest.

Although he knew his entire family could be severely punished for his bold faith, Kun-woo couldn’t help but share what he had learned in China. “I think he at least shared with 20 other people,” Min-ji said. “At that time, I was so resentful of him. My case had just been closed. Why would he put all the family in danger, a greater danger, again?”

Eventually, someone did report Kun-woo’s activities. One night, authorities came to the couple’s home and arrested them, and Kun-woo was immediately taken to a concentration camp. Under the country’s “no-mercy” law, anyone who elevated God above Kim Jong Il, North Korea’s supreme leader at the time, was taken to the camp without trial.

Christians in North Korea are routinely sent to concentration camps, where they are starved, overworked and tortured. Christian and secular analysts estimate that about 30,000 Christians are currently suffering in various camps throughout North Korea.

Min-ji believes her husband died in the camp. “I still do not know how my husband died,” she said. And she never learned who reported him either.

At the time of the arrests, Min-ji’s uncle, who held a chief position with the SSP, knew that Min-ji was in danger of being sent to a concentration camp because of her husband’s Christian faith. So for her own protection, he instead had her sent to a labor camp.

Prisoners in labor camps, known as kyohwaso, spend 15 hours a day working in coal mines, performing farm labor or doing construction work. And they receive only a few mouthfuls of simple food, such as corn, porridge or cabbage, twice a day. But despite the torturous work, they at least know they’re likely to be released one day.

Those who, like Kun-woo, are found guilty of serious crimes, are sent to concentration camps known as kwanliso. They are typically imprisoned for life, if they aren’t executed. Conditions at these camps are so bad that nearly 40 percent of inmates die of starvation, and those who don’t starve often lose up to half of their body weight. Former prisoners have reported that inmates sometimes eat grass and rats to survive.

“I was the luckiest among my family, since I was only in the labor camp,” Min-ji said. Two years into her detention, her uncle was fired for breaking protocol with her case, and all of her relatives faced interrogation. She said her mother and a nephew died from the stress.

Pursued by God

After more than six years in the labor camp, Min-ji was finally released. She said she barely survived its brutal conditions, but she knows it could have been worse. Someone in the labor camp who had known a concentration-camp survivor told her that authorities there pack the mouths of Christians full of gravel so they can’t scream as they are beaten to death. “They always beat Christians to death,” Min-ji said. “This is what I heard.”

After her release, Min-ji decided to defect. She said she felt it was necessary in order to support her children, who were young adults at the time. “Our family had no future in North Korea after the death of my husband and my own six years of imprisonment,” she said. “I needed to find a way to live, at least for my children.”

Min-ji bribed a border guard to allow her and one of her children to cross the Yalu River into China. But after crossing the river, her child decided to turn back. Alone, Min-ji continued the walk toward Yanji, China, where a friend had a car waiting for her. “To get there, I had to walk for 10 hours alone, crossing at least five mountains,” she said.

Min-ji stayed in Yanji for a month, earning money by caring for a Christian woman with Alzheimer’s disease who lived with other believers. She found it odd that the women believed in the same God that her husband had worshiped. “They invited me to sing Christian songs together and to pray together,” she recalled.

About a month later, Min-ji decided to try moving on to South Korea. She first traveled to Beijing, where she met a broker who was going to help her and other North Korean defectors cross into South Korea. But before they could leave China, she and her group of defectors were reported as possible human traffickers because the group included young children.

“The police showed up,” Min-ji said. “Because we had no proof of citizenship or visa, we were taken to a prison.”

Chinese authorities considered sending the group back to North Korea. But some Christians in South Korea who had been praying for the group of defectors contacted the South Korean embassy in China and explained that the North Koreans were simply trying to reach family members in the south.

At the time, however, the South Korean government was in a state of transition — the president had just been impeached — so they weren’t accepting any refugees. As a result, Min-ji remained in the Chinese prison for nearly two years.

“Interestingly, and thankfully, the Chinese guards treated us well,” she said. “Sometimes, the police even gave us certain foods that we wanted when we asked for them. The hardest part was not knowing whether I would be sent back to North Korea or if I would be able to defect to South Korea. It was very stressful.”

While in prison, Min-ji met many Chinese women who had been detained for their Christian faith. And a month into their imprisonment, a North Korean woman from her defection group finally felt comfortable enough to share that she, too, was a follower of Christ.

“If we were sent [back] to North Korea and it was discovered that we had encountered a church and Christianity, we would surely die,” Min-ji said. “So she could not share anything with me for the first month that we were together. But in prison, one has a lot of time.”

After confessing her faith to Min-ji, the woman — filled with joy — grabbed her toothpaste and used it to write “Jesus Christ” on the prison wall. “It was my first time to see the words ‘Jesus Christ,’ so I asked her what it was,” Min-ji recalled. “She began to share with me what Christianity is.”

The Chinese guards had allowed the woman to bring a Bible into prison with her, so she began reading it with Min-ji. “The first time I read the Bible, I felt it was odd to do so because it was on account of the Bible that my husband was killed and I ended up there,” she said.

In addition to the influence of her North Korean friend, Min-ji was moved by how empathetic the Chinese Christians were toward her family’s story. “These sisters were very nice to us and prayed for us,” she said. “When they prayed, they did so with tears. I wondered why they cried out like this even though it was my problem, not their own matter. I also wondered why they kept their faith even though they were persecuted and imprisoned for it.”

But one day their love started to make sense, and so did the gospel. Min-ji then decided to place her faith in Jesus Christ. “I had received so much grace from them,” she said. “I began to wonder about the God who was consistently intervening in my life.”

When the Chinese Christians were released, they gave Min-ji 1,000 Chinese Yuan (roughly $150) through the guards, who normally did not allow prisoners to receive money from other prisoners being released.

Moving Forward

Min-ji contacted her nieces in South Korea after her release from the Chinese prison, and they arranged for a broker to help her cross into South Korea.

Once there, Min-ji learned about The Voice of the Martyrs through another North Korean defector and soon enrolled in VOM’s Underground Technology (UT) program. Along with other North Korean defectors, she received an academic foundation as well as instruction in life skills, character development, relationship skills and spiritual formation.

“I love UT because the teachers teach me the Bible,” she said. “I see and hear things that I could not see in church. Also, I have never seen any people like [these] students before. The students truly become transformed, so much so that they do not look like the people in North Korea. Also, the school administration is merciful, and the people have kind manners. I want to follow in my husband’s footsteps. I have a heart to follow Jesus like my husband. I want to go to a theological school to do God’s work after I retire.”

Min-ji’s grown children have also now defected to South Korea. One of them, she said, still suffers from the trauma of Kun-woo’s imprisonment and death for his faith. And as a result, that child struggles with Christian faith.

“Neither of my children go to church regularly,” she said, “but they believe in God. Please pray for both of my children and for me to faithfully walk in the path that my husband had already walked through.”

Looking back, Min-ji wishes she would have considered her husband’s faith when he first shared it with her. “At the time, I did not see with the same eyes that my husband did,” she said. “If I had only had the spiritual eyes that I have now at that time. My concern then was only to earn money for my family and be loyal to my beloved nation.”

Kun-woo’s walk with Christ is never far from Min-ji’s memory. When she watched the VOM video Sang-chul: North Korea, produced for the 2019 International Day of Prayer for Persecuted Christians, she said it reminded her of her husband.

“It was hurtful to watch it,” she said. “I lost my husband when we were still young. A long time ago, whenever I thought about my husband, I always began to cry. Now I feel like I am with my husband because I am surrounded by Christians who were like my husband.”

More than a decade after Kun-woo joyfully shared his new Christian faith with her, Min-ji’s own relationship with Christ and her new Christian family grows ever stronger.

While recovering from malnutrition, Chul-ho consumed God’s Word, reading the Bible several times the first year. For the next three years, he taught other North Korean defectors about Christ and gradually broadened his ministry to include helping North Koreans at the border as they crossed into China. He also got married during that time.

Then, one summer day in 2001, Chinese police arrested Chul-ho and his wife, who was seven months pregnant, as they waited for a group of North Koreans to cross into China’s autonomous Inner Mongolia region. “For the sake of my wife’s survival, I had to tell [the police] that she was not my wife,” Chul-ho said. “I told them that I did not know her.”

Despite his attempt to protect his wife, both were detained for several days before being transported to Sinuiju, North Korea. When Chul-ho entered the North Korean prison, he lost everything. “In Sinuiju, my wife was forced to have an abortion,” he said.

He never saw his wife again.

Prison Ministry

Chul-ho was released from the North Korean prison in the fall of that same year. And three months later, he crossed the Tumen River for a second time to resume his ministry work among North Korean defectors in China. Even though the work had already cost him his wife, he recognized that the need was too great to stop.

In the spring of 2002, Chul-ho was again detained by Chinese border police while ministering to defectors along the border. This time he was charged with “systematically organizing a group and illegally helping them cross the river.” Chinese authorities quickly convicted Chul-ho and sentenced him to 10 years in prison.

His life behind bars was intolerable. The three-story prison held 2,000 inmates, packing 40 prisoners into each small cell. It was too hot to sleep during the summer and nearly too cold to breathe in the winter. Guards monitored Chul-ho 24 hours a day.

“I was classified as a dangerous prisoner because I was a Christian who would be sent back to North Korea after there,” he said. “Basically, they saw me as a person without any hope of living. They thought that I was going to commit suicide.”

Early in his imprisonment, Chul-ho began receiving letters every two months from Christians in the United States and other countries. The letters, sent by readers of The Voice of the Martyrs’ monthly magazine, provided essential encouragement and a sense of fellowship with the global church throughout his 10-year sentence.

The encouragement he received from caring Christians helped sustain him as he endured repeated interrogations and beatings. On one occasion, guards forced him to stand against a wall from 3 a.m. to 9 a.m., and if he moved, they kicked him or slammed his head against the wall. Through it all, Chul-ho clung to Christ.

“After investigating me in this way, one police officer told me that I had not sinned,” he said. “This officer came to realize that I did a righteous thing and should be recorded in history because I suffered for my people.”

The officer promised that if he was ever promoted, he would save Chul-ho.

As the months and years passed, Chul-ho said he entered a deep depression and had no idea how he could continue living behind bars. Soon, however, God pulled him out of the darkness and gave him a new purpose.

“I believed that it was God who started this work and that He would take me somewhere,” he said. “If I ever made it out of there, I hoped that the 10 years of imprisonment would not have been in vain.”

That’s when Chul-ho decided to make the most of his time in prison. After doing manual labor from 6:30 a.m. to 9 p.m. every day, he spent a few hours each night reading the Bible and studying Chinese.

As he continued his studies, he also built relationships with other prisoners and soon became known as the “North Korean pastor.” And gradually, other North Korean defectors who had become Christians approached him secretly. “They showed me their cross necklaces,” he said.

Although the believers weren’t allowed to hold formal worship services in prison, Chul-ho often read from the Bible and other Christian books he had at the time of his arrest. “I preached, taught and evangelized people in the prison,” he said. “I was even distributing Bibles and Christian books to those who showed interest in the faith.”

Hope in the Darkness

Of the prison’s 2,000 inmates, Chul-ho said 200 were from North Korea. And like him, most had defected to China simply to survive the famine.

One young North Korean with whom Chul-ho shared the gospel made a heartbreaking confession: He had sold his own mother to human traffickers in China in order to help the rest of his family. Still grieving over his unthinkable deed, the man turned to Jesus. Chul-ho said he is one of many North Koreans who came to know Christ in the Chinese prison.

“One could assume that all the North Korean prisoners I met in prison were all sent to North Korea,” he added. “They may have died there, but I am sure that some of them went on to be North Korean underground Christians.”

On a Sunday afternoon in 2011, one day before he was to be released from prison, authorities took Chul-ho to another building for interrogation. They then gave him new clothes, put him in a car and drove him to a city on the North Korean border. “They had brought me there to send me back to North Korea,” Chul-ho explained.

On that day, however, North Korea’s border office was closed because the government had just announced the death of its leader, Kim Jong Il. An officer then took Chul-ho to China’s foreign affairs department of Chinese Public Security, where the chief of staff happened to be the officer who several years earlier had told Chul-ho that he would save him if ever promoted.

“He really did save me,” Chul-ho said. “I stayed there for three months. After the first intense interrogation, I was treated nicely. They began treating me in a good way. The officer kept his word.”

In early 2012, Chul-ho was released as a “person of unknown nationality.” Since he had other relatives in South Korea, he was able to obtain a passport from the South Korean embassy and was then flown to Incheon, South Korea.

Aboard the plane, Chul-ho looked out the window and watched China’s Yanji airport disappear into the distance. “I felt like God was saying to me, ‘I am doing my work,’” he said. Though hopeful about his future, Chul-ho said the flight to South Korea was both joyous and unsettling.

“I was quite [emotionally] unstable when I was released,” he said. “But walking on the ground outside of the prison with my own two feet gave me such an ecstatic feeling. There is no human word that can describe that feeling. Until the moment I landed at the Incheon airport, I felt like someone was chasing after me.”

Looking back on his time in prison, Chul-ho can see how God was working through him. “In the beginning, I was not able to understand why God had put me there, because doing Christian work to save my people was not my own will but God who gave me the heart for it,” he said. “So in the beginning I had hatred against, and lots of struggles with, God. One day in the prison, I was even considering committing suicide. But now I can say that it was God who held my hands.”

A New Mission Field

After arriving in South Korea, Chul-ho met VOM workers who helped him adjust to life there.

North Korean defectors often struggle with the freedom they experience in South Korea. After years of hoarding what little they have, they find themselves squandering everything they’re given or are able to earn. And in place of the steady stream of government propaganda, they are inundated with pop culture and its supporting media, such as TV, radio, magazines and websites. They also have to learn to trust people after living in an environment of suspicion and the fear of being spied on by neighbors and family members.

Another common issue is the need to correct bad behavioral habits. Chul-ho said many in North Korea are forced to engage in unethical activities just to survive, and some continue those lifestyles after defecting to South Korea and China. They will often do anything to earn money and survive in their new environment.

After receiving help from VOM, Chul- ho decided to shift his ministry focus to North Koreans who initially defect to Laos, a common path for many hoping to eventually reach South Korea. His goal is to introduce them to Christ before they settle in South Korea.

For years, Chul-ho has shown North Koreans in Laos the love of Christ by providing care packages and discipling many of them in the faith. Nearly every month, he travels to Laos to meet small groups of defectors, typically five to seven people at a time.

“Discipling them in Laos is the last place for them to encounter God’s Word, which pierces their twisted conscience, before coming to South Korea,” he said. “I am trying to share the gospel with them in this specific way, where they can deeply think about the gospel for the first time in their life.”

He said the care packages, which include personal care items, medicine, clothes and an audio Bible, are a crucial part of his front-line ministry. “For North Koreans, the gospel is shared and manifested through people’s acts of service,” he said. “When I defected to China a long time ago, I saw a church. The church always had its light on, but I did not even think about going inside. However, there was one missionary who gave me many clothes. Even though the clothes were used clothes, through his love, which manifested God’s love, I was drawn to the Lord. For North Koreans, the gospel must come along with meeting their material needs.”

Chul-ho said those who hear the gospel and receive discipleship in Laos are more likely to attend church and live a godly life in the large, bustling cities of South Korea. And those who aren’t reached in Laos, he said, continue worshiping idols, trading Kim Jong Un for the idol of money.

“Both groups need a moment in their life to deeply consider faith before coming to South Korea,” he said. “Once they come to South Korea, the social structures and the worldly atmosphere drive and demand them to depart from God.”

Despite the trauma Chul-ho has experienced and the pain he re-lives when he hears of other North Koreans who have suffered for their faith, he said he’s learning to let God carry him in his work.

“In my dreams, I sometimes see myself in prison or [see] the faces of those who were martyred,” he said. “But I began to realize that the trauma also has the power to boost this ministry so that I can be thankful for this work. I am no longer imprisoned, but free. Even though the ministry is painful and demanding, I have full confidence in the Lord, who does this work. If I have learned one thing from my imprisonment, I learned that it is not my will but God’s will which will be done.”

Chul-ho said he hopes Christians around the world will continue to pray for North Korea and support other front-line workers who minister to those who have fled the oppressive regime.

“On the news, people speak all kinds of political talk about North Korea,” he said. “But I believe that raising up a North Korean and helping that person become a disciple of Jesus is the only alternative for North Korea.”

Two years after placing her faith in Jesus Christ, Fareena still hadn’t told a soul. Like most new Christians in Iran, she feared the backlash she would face if her family learned she had left Islam. Since doing so is illegal in the Muslim nation, new Christians are often imprisoned after going public with their faith. And many more are beaten for bringing shame to their Muslim family.

Aware of these possibilities, Fareena decided to read her Bible only in secret. Then, one day she saw something that shocked her. “When I woke up and headed to the living room, my father was sitting on the floor reading a Bible thoughtfully,” she said. “I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

Fareena returned to her room in a panic, thinking her father, Bilal, had discovered her Bible. After realizing the Bible he was reading was a different color, she asked him what he was doing. “I am reading an amazing book,” Bilal replied. “I found it in the mailbox today. It was wrapped in wrapping paper.”

Iranian Christians had gone house to house, placing Bibles in mailboxes throughout the neighborhood. Each one included a note saying the book was a gift for Nowruz, the Persian New Year.

To Fareena, the gift was a miracle. Using contact information included with the gift, she learned how she and her father could join a house church. “God called my father into His family,” she said. “My father has been reading the book every day and talks about it joyfully.”

Stories like Fareena’s and Bilal’s are common. God’s kingdom is growing faster in Iran than anywhere else in the world. And Christians there are taking advantage of a distracted government to share the gospel with disillusioned Muslims.

A Random Encounter

When the coronavirus pandemic began, Aref and his wife, Liana, were happy to follow Iran’s lockdown because their age put them at risk. But one day while getting some fresh air in a local park, they were approached by a man who talked to them briefly about God and gave them a Bible. Aref gave it a quick look and, when he got home, placed it on a bookshelf.

Months later Aref had a dream about a light shining brightly from the bookshelf and a voice saying, “I will reveal the true way to you. You will find Me there.”

“The next morning, I thought about my dream,” he said, “and then I went to the bookshelf and grabbed the Bible after eight months. I opened it with more passion, and curiously, I remembered also the guy who gave me this book.”

After reading some passages in the Bible, Aref returned to the first page and found contact information for the man who had given it to him. “I grabbed my phone and called the number to ask about my dream and questions that came to mind about God,” Aref said.

Aref is connected to a ministry that answers his questions and prays with him, leading him closer to Jesus Christ.

A New Family

When her husband divorced her, and her father considered her a disgrace because she was unable to have children, Jasmine went to find an old friend. But when she knocked on the door, an older woman named Huma answered and told her that her friend had moved. Seeing the anxiety on Jasmine’s face, Huma invited her in.

After talking for a while, Huma, who lived alone, invited Jasmine to stay with her for a few days. Jasmine accepted, and while there, she watched curiously as small groups gathered to sing and pray. “I found that they were Christians and they gave their heart to Jesus,” Jasmine said.

A few days turned into two years, and during that time Jasmine adopted two young girls, giving her the children she never expected to have. Around the same time, Huma invited Jasmine to attend a baptism. Jasmine had already started reading the Bible regularly and learning more about Jesus, and the secret baptism moved her deeply.

“I went to Huma and told her I wanted to get baptized,” Jasmine recalled. After talking and praying with a pastor, Jasmine confessed her sins, acknowledged the saving work of Christ and received baptism. She said she never would have come to know Him if not for Huma’s generous heart. “Huma and my new family in Jesus helped me to grow in God’s Word,” she said. “God blessed me with this new family to heal me and show me the way to righteousness.”

Huma died a short time later, leaving her home to Jasmine and her two daughters. But Jasmine, overwhelmed by grief, felt anchorless and slowly stopped attending church. Then, one of her daughters found a package in the mail and Jasmine’s grief turned to joy. A Christian worker in Iran had sent her several Bibles and a Christian magazine.

“I was overwhelmed by this gift,” Jasmine said. “I thought to myself, ‘It’s been awhile since we attended a church group.’ I was about to forget that I’m a believer, but our Lord never forgets His children. He sent me this gift to remind me what He has done in my life and why I have been here in this house. I want to say thank you to the people who sent us this gift that opened my eyes again.”

Multiplying Access

Jalil has been involved in a house church in northern Iran for three years, and the Bible is central to their time together. “There is so much trust and intimacy in our group,” Jalil said. “We study the Bible and have fellowship with one another.”

Because Bibles are difficult to obtain in Iran, the group shares one Bible. While they are grateful to have even one, group Bible study is a challenge. “We passed this one Bible to each other to read, and we took notes or pictures of the verses,” Jalil said.

In 2020, VOM workers smuggled a large supply of Bibles into Iran, and local house church leaders distributed them to Christians who did not own one. Jalil’s group recently received a package of the Bibles, and now every member has a personal copy.

“God blessed us through your ministry!” Jalil said. “Today, not only do we have our own Bibles, but we also can give them to our friends and family and share the love of God with them.”

With each gift of a Bible in Iran, God’s kingdom advances in one of the world’s most restricted nations.

Although Bible distribution is legal in Colombia, armed rebel groups roam the country’s rural areas as a law unto themselves. Paramilitaries and guerrilla groups like the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC) resent Christians because they refuse to participate in the drug trade or fight for their causes. The rebel groups also view anyone traveling through their territory, where they often grow and smuggle narcotics, as a threat.

A ministry team traveled deep into the jungles of Putumayo department, along the border with Ecuador and Peru, to distribute full-color Action Bibles and minister to church workers. The Bibles, which feature colorful illustrations in the style of a graphic novel, appeal not only to children but also to adults who may have trouble reading a traditional Bible.

After traveling many hours by car, the team transferred their supplies to motorcycles and rode for 20 minutes before reaching a river. They then loaded the motorcycles, Bibles and supplies onto a river ferry for a two-hour trip upriver. After leaving the ferry, they rode their packed motorcycles as far as they could before again transferring their loads to mules.

The objective of their travel through the rugged terrain of Colombia was a simple wooden church with a thatched roof. “These communities are surrounded by armed rebel groups,” a front-line worker said. “They are the ones who have the authority in the region. A few meters from the church is a former coca cultivation area. The brothers from the church tell us that in the deepest part of the region there are still coca crops that sustain the rebel groups.”

The simple church, which had no electricity, served as a retreat center for 30 pastors who had gathered from throughout the region. Many had walked for hours to reach the site, and all of them serve in lonely, remote locations under highly stressful conditions.

The host church had improvised bathing “facilities” in a nearby stream and strung hammocks between the church rafters for beds. At the end of each evening’s two-hour church service, the generator was shut off and “an infinite blackness fell,” the front-line worker said.

Over the course of three days, the pastors participated in leadership training and enjoyed fellowship with one another. “It was moving to see the faith of each of these pastors,” the front-line worker said. “They were motivated by the need to be in communion with other brothers in the faith.”

At the end of the retreat, the pastors each received a box of Bibles to share with their local church. While they knew it might be months or years before they gathered again, they also knew they were now better equipped to serve their communities. “It is because of the people that we can say that the faith in this entire region has been strengthened despite the difficulties, the scourges of war,” the front-line worker said. “They continue to persevere in Christ.”

With physical loads lightened and hearts lifted by the courage and faith of their Christian brothers and sisters, the ministry team made its way back home by mule, motorcycle, ferry and car. Soon, they would begin analyzing tactics for their next move on the Colombian chessboard.

Years ago, Byung-woo traveled from his home in North Korea to visit relatives in China. His relatives, who were part of China’s vast underground church movement, invited him to read the Bible while he was there. When he declined, they fasted and prayed for a couple of days, hoping he would change his mind. That puzzled Byung-woo even more than the original invitation.

Finally, out of curiosity and a desire to appease his family, he agreed to give the book a cursory read. But the more he read, the more questions he had for his relatives. The Bible translation used the South Korean dialect rather than the North Korean dialect. The two dialects differ roughly 40 percent of the time. Still, the parts he understood fascinated him.

Seeing Byung-woo’s interest, his relatives took him to their house church, where church members explained the need for the gospel in North Korea and implored him to start an underground church there. They were prepared to provide him with food and money to sustain him, Bibles to distribute and a bicycle to help him reach more people.

Byung-woo grew increasingly fearful as he considered their idea. Possessing a Bible, let alone several of them, is extremely dangerous in North Korea. Being caught with even a few pages of Scripture could result in detention in a concentration camp, so North Korean Christians often memorize passages of God’s Word to safely “possess” it.

Overcome by fear, Byung-woo left the Bibles behind and returned to North Korea, where he told his wife about the Bible he had read in China and how it had moved him. To his surprise, she said she also wanted to read the Bible.

Out of love for his wife and a desire for her to learn about Jesus as he had, Byung-woo decided to return to China, get a Bible and then risk his life smuggling it back into North Korea. When he arrived back in China, his relatives joyfully gave him a Bible and some money from church members. He then returned to North Korea and gathered some relatives to tell them about the Jesus he had come to know through the Scriptures. Byung-woo’s relatives wanted to hear more. They took turns reading the Bible, and even though they didn’t always understand the dialect, they said its words brought them peace.

Inspired by his family’s reaction to the Bible, Byung-woo committed his life to the Lord and carefully began to share the gospel with other North Koreans. When he met someone who would soon be traveling to China, he would encourage them to visit a church there. And when they returned to North Korea, he would ask them about their visit. If they had attended a church service and had a positive experience, he would then discuss the gospel with them and disciple them.

Over time, Byung-woo learned that some of his neighbors were also underground Christians. That knowledge encouraged and emboldened him, but he also realized that his life in North Korea would be further endangered as more people learned of his Christian faith.

Byung-woo eventually defected to South Korea, where he learned about VOM. Through one of our programs for North Korean defectors, he is studying Scripture in the North Korean dialect, using the same translation we smuggle into North Korea.

Like Byung-woo, many North Koreans are now reading God’s Word and coming to faith in Jesus Christ, despite the persecution that they know may follow.

Then, as the sun rose shortly after 6 a.m., they began to hear screams and gunfire in the village behind them. Villagers were running in every direction as the air filled with smoke from burning homes.

The militants had attacked the village from another entrance, and Timothy felt helpless as he thought about his family, his church and his predominantly Christian village. “In all honesty,” he said, “even though the Bible has told us that these things would happen, the first question I asked was, ‘God, where are You?’”

Timothy’s wife, Rifkatu, and their 3-year-old granddaughter, Uma, had just finished praying with their lead pastor’s family at the church parsonage when the attack occurred. Rifkatu heard the gunfire and screams when she stepped out with Uma to get some fresh air.

After scooping Uma up in her arms and running back inside to alert everyone, Rifkatu and the others hurriedly left the pastor’s home, which they knew would be a target of the radical Islamists. Running as fast as she could while carrying the toddler, Rifkatu stumbled repeatedly. And the more tired she grew, the more afraid she became. Seeing another villager get shot only added to her terror. “The fourth time I fell, I could not get up because my body was weak,” she recalled. “I could not carry [Uma].”

When a young man, also fleeing from the militants, saw Rifkatu struggling, he took Uma from her so they could both run to safety. But the young man soon grew tired from carrying the child and decided to hide her in the bush and continue running on his own. Rifkatu had run on ahead until reaching cover in the bush. “I do not know how God did it,” she said of her escape. “I found a place and hid. I lay down there till morning.”

Rifkatu had run so far that she lost track of how to get home. When she felt it was safe, she started the long walk back, arriving at 10 a.m. the next morning. Once home, she asked if anyone had seen Uma.

That’s when she learned that Uma had been killed, her body discovered along with those of others shot by the militants. The lead pastor’s wife, with whom Rifkatu had been praying, was also killed as she fled. She and Uma were among the more than 70 villagers killed in the attack.

Thankfully, Timothy and Rifkatu’s four children, including Uma’s mother, were not in the village at the time. The family’s home, located on the outskirts of the village, was also unharmed.

Picking Up the Pieces

About a week later, the family traveled to another village, where they spent three months mourning Uma’s death and recovering from the trauma of the attack. Rifkatu suffered nightmares and anxiety as well as deep grief. But through prayer, reading God’s Word and spending time with family, she grew stronger and her grief became more manageable.

At the end of June, they returned home to help their church recover. Much of the church building had burned, along with all of the musical instruments inside, and the parsonage had been completely destroyed by fire. In addition, the lead pastor had left the village, grief-stricken over his wife’s death and overcome with guilt that he had survived.

Timothy took over as lead pastor, but he struggled with his mentor’s absence even as many in the church struggled with their own painful losses. Several church members lost their spouses and were forced to live in poverty. “People are tense and very scared now,” Timothy said. “If something small happens, people will start running. But we are encouraging them.”

Through it all, Timothy, his family and the church have found encouragement through Christ. “He helped us understand that these events are things that will pass,” Timothy said. “Whatever is happening today will pass tomorrow. What strengthened us is in these events will become our story. We have faith that one day Christ will avenge us.”

Timothy’s family still grieves for those lost in the attack, but they’re also grateful for what they have gained. “Honestly, before this attack our faith was broken,” the pastor said. “Hearing about the attacks happening in other places shook our faith. But after it happened to us, our faith increased. Even if it happens to us again, we will not be afraid.”

They have no intention of leaving their home, despite the risk of another attack. “We stay here because this is where our faith is strengthened,” Timothy said.

Not Backing Down

After the attack, another pastor from Timothy’s church was killed while visiting a neighboring village. Timothy knows that working to advance God’s kingdom isn’t always safe, and he’s OK with that. In fact, the risk assures him that he is on the right track. “If you are in a peaceful place without any challenges, you will be far from God,” he said. “But if there is persecution, you will be close to God.”

VOM has helped pay his children’s school fees and provided his family with additional financial support since the attack. Timothy has used some of the support to start a farm, where he grows corn and rice for his family and also to sell for additional income.

“It is not by our doing, but it is the grace of God that this help has come to us,” Timothy said. “If not for this support, we do not know what we would have done. We are incredibly grateful. All the help and support mean so much to us. We are full of joy that we are part of a family who loves us and is praying for us.”

Pastor Timothy asks that we pray for his family’s courage and strength as well as for his village as they all continue to recover from the attack.

Naomi had already experienced suffering. When her husband died in 2009, her in-laws, who in Nigerian culture would be expected to help her and her five children, rejected her. With no other options, Naomi moved in with her parents in the town of Gwoza, in Nigeria’s northeastern Borno state. Hoping to rebuild her life, she set about the work of providing for her family and educating her children, the youngest of whom was only 1 year old when his father died.

Not long after their move to Gwoza, a violent Islamist organization began gaining power in the area, advancing its goal of “purifying” northern Nigeria for the sake of Islam.

The Attack

Boko Haram, whose name means “Western education is forbidden” in the Hausa dialect, began waging an insurgency across northern Nigeria, targeting military installations, police stations, government buildings, churches and civilians, primarily in Borno state.

By 2014, conflicts between Boko Haram and Nigerian security forces had become common as the insurgents fought for control of Borno state’s capital, Maiduguri. Frustrated at its failure to gain control in Maiduguri, Boko Haram turned its attention to the majority Christian community of Gwoza and its 300,000 residents. While previous offensives in the area had been announced by letters warning civilians to clear out, the Gwoza attack came unannounced. “This time they came without warning,” Naomi said.

The day of the invasion, Naomi was working on her plot of farmland outside the city when she heard distant gunfire. “The Muslims who were at the farm with us told us to be careful while going home,” she recalled, “because they knew what was happening.”

Naomi’s first concern was for her children at home. But as she rushed down the road toward town, she and several other women were caught by Boko Haram fighters. “They asked us to show them the houses of Christians, and they challenged us to renounce our faith,” Naomi said. “They threatened to kill us if we did not.”

After Naomi pleaded with the militants to let her go, telling them she was a widow with children, the group’s leader took pity on the women and released them.

“All I could think about was my kids,” Naomi said. “My mother said I should be careful, but I told her I did not care if I got shot. I started running.” She ran past the horrific scene of headless corpses as she searched for her children. And after she gathered her family, they ran into the forested Mandara Mountains, where they would remain for the next two years.

Hiding in the Mountains

After reaching the mountains, they found others from Gwoza who had fled the attack. The children slept in caves with their parents guarding the entrance, while some people slept in the grass. But the danger below was never far from their minds. “Day and night, there were bullets everywhere like water,” Naomi said.

For the first few days, the refugees ate whatever edible leaves they could find. Then, after deciding the attack must be over, they carefully returned to their homes. Within hours, however, the sound of gunfire returned. “We thought the terrorists would not come back again,” Naomi said. “We did not know they had gone to their Muslim friends in our community and had started living with them in their houses.”

Naomi and the others kept hoping they’d be able to return to their homes, but Boko Haram never left. Naomi felt desperate and alone. “I had only God,” she said, “and I talked to Him. He gave me the strength I needed.”

Naomi, her children and several thousand others lived on the mountain for two years before fleeing to Cameroon. “The morning we left for Cameroon, Boko Haram followed us,” Naomi said. “They were shooting and detonating bombs.”

Sojourners Return

Naomi and her children stayed in a Cameroonian refugee camp for two months. But conditions in the camp were very difficult, and more than 300 refugees had died by the time Naomi and her children returned to Nigeria, guided along the way by ethnic Fulani herdsmen.

When Naomi and her children arrived in Jos, a city in central Nigeria that had not yet been affected by Boko Haram, they stayed at a camp for internally displaced people until being told they had to leave. “I did not know where to go,” Naomi said, “so I cried to God.”

Some months later, front-line workers became aware of their situation and provided assistance. They helped the children get started in a good school and eventually helped the family move into their own house. Today, Naomi’s older children have graduated from high school and continued on to vocational schools. Her youngest child, a teenager named Samson, was a toddler when his father died.

Life as a single parent has not been easy for Naomi, but as she looks back she realizes that she was never alone. “Since the passing of my husband, God has kept me,” she said. “I have always had faith in God. The attack only made me stronger in my faith.”

She draws inspiration from her namesake biblical heroine, the mother- in-law of Ruth, who also was a widow and sojourner in a foreign land. “My name is Naomi, and I want to be like the Naomi in the Bible,” she said. “Pray for me, that with the help of God I will not fail.”

At about 4 a.m. on the morning after a local election in Jos, Nigeria, Ibrahim awoke to someone banging on his apartment door. “They have come!” his niece cried out. “They have started!”

The 2008 elections had been particularly divisive. Before results were even posted, members of the city’s predominantly Muslim Hausa-Fulani majority began protesting the Christian candidate’s expected win.

Ibrahim jumped out of bed. He knew his niece’s warning meant Christians were under attack in the town where he was serving as an election worker. Thankfully, his wife, Ana, was safe at home in a different city.

By the time Ibrahim came out of his room, his niece had already left and he noticed that the neighboring tenants were gone, too. Hearing gunfire, he looked around and saw people running away. Ibrahim, however, ran toward the gunfire to see the attackers for himself.

“What I saw was dreadful,” he said. A parade of militant Islamic Fulani armed with sticks, machetes and guns were chanting, “Allahu akbar! Come! Let us fight Jihad!”

Ibrahim ran back toward his apartment to help protect his neighbors. Along with other Christians, he helped women hide in a church, barricaded roads with whatever he could find and threw rocks at the approaching mob to slow them down.

“We tried to curtail them,” Ibrahim said. “I thought to myself, ‘With this number of people, can’t they just overrun us?’ I knew that God was with us.”

As he passed a burning house, Ibrahim heard the sound of children’s voices. He pulled the hood of his jacket over his mouth and entered the smoke-filled structure. But as he walked through the house, he noticed the silhouettes of two men crouched in a corner. One of the men, who had been waiting in ambush, shot Ibrahim in the face. “I heard a loud sound and found myself on the ground,” Ibrahim said.

In severe pain, he covered his face with his hands. A young man who had heard the gunshot soon came to his aid. Unable to carry Ibrahim, the young man dragged his nearly lifeless body until three other people arrived to help carry him to a medical clinic, where physicians began work to stabilize him.

After losing hope that he would survive, the doctors turned to other attack victims who appeared to have a better chance. But one nurse, realizing Ibrahim was still conscious, gave him medication, stopped the bleeding and treated his wounds. He and three other gunshot victims were later transported to Jos University Teaching Hospital, where Ibrahim’s sister caught up with him.

Then they got the bad news: A CT scan of Ibrahim’s skull revealed that he would never see again. Ibrahim burst into tears, but his sister quickly reassured him. “Have you forgotten God?” she asked.

Lying in the hospital bed, Ibrahim surrendered his life fully to Christ. “I was not born again before the attack came and I lost my sight,” he said. “I gave my life to Christ after the attack happened. Since then, I have not looked back.”

Looking to God

The riots in Jos ended when the Nigerian government deployed the army to restore order. But at least 761 people, both Christians and Muslims, had been killed and hundreds more injured. And about 10,000 people had fled their homes as they were burned along with churches, mosques and schools. To this day, Ibrahim doesn’t know what happened to the children he tried to save in the burning house.

After a month in the hospital, he was finally discharged. And as soon as he was able, he went to church. The first sermon Ibrahim heard was on bitterness and how we should forgive those who hurt us. He had felt vengeful since the attack but changed his mind after hearing the sermon. “The message really gave me insight,” he said. “I saw that the best thing was for me to forgive, so I forgave.”

With mounting medical bills, Ibrahim and his wife struggled financially after the attack. They had little help from family, and relief organizations ignored their requests for help. “Not getting assistance was a low point for me,” Ibrahim said. “I had organizations coming to interview me. Many people came and went, and I never saw them again.”

Ibrahim learned Braille during this time and found encouragement in a Braille version of the Bible. “I strongly relied on it,” he said. “I did not understand anything in the Bible before then. That’s what was giving me peace of mind.”

Ibrahim asks that people pray for his continued healing and for perseverance in faith. He knows another Islamist attack could occur anytime, but now he knows he’s not alone. He was touched to learn from a front-line worker that Christians around the world are praying for him.

“The larger body of Christ cares about me?” Ibrahim asked. “Wow. I’m extremely glad, incredibly happy. I just find joy being a part of the family of Christians.”

The youth, all of whom were related as either siblings or cousins, had come to know Jesus Christ through the witness of older relatives. After studying God’s Word, something impossible for many of their parents who cannot read, they learned firsthand the cost of following Christ in their Muslim community. But when everything seemed hopeless, the Holy Spirit led them and others to boldly stand for Jesus.

False Accusations

While the youth were away for Bible training, neighbors questioned their parents about where the children had gone. Soon, various rumors began to spread through the community, including allegations of sexual abuse that made their way to the ears of Islamists.

As a small minority in the area, Christians must keep their faith secret. Believers often hide their Bibles, understanding that their discovery by Muslim neighbors could result in violence. “We know people from this community who have had their house burned down, been beaten, been kicked out of their home and kicked out of their family,” said Aarav, a front-line worker.

When the youth returned to the village, local Islamists interrogated them, following up on villagers’ accusations that they had been taken to the city for deviant sexual purposes. The entire community shunned the girls in the group, and their parents grew concerned.

One girl’s father, a known follower of Christ, feared that the girls might be taken from them permanently or even killed. In conservative Muslim communities, family members or others sometimes commit “honor killings” of individuals considered to have been sexually disgraced.

When pressured by the Islamists, the Christian man, Ali, grabbed a micro SD card and handed it to one of the Islamists. “This is what it is all about,” Ali said. “This is why they left.”

The Islamist took the SD card and reviewed its content, expecting to find pornography. But instead he heard the gospel. “This isn’t so bad,” another Islamist said. “It’s about Isa [Jesus].”

Encouraged by their reaction, Ali felt emboldened to preach to the radicals. In that moment, he felt the Spirit’s nudge to proclaim Christ. “Repent! Come out of the darkness!” he told the radicals and village elders who had gathered.

Then, realizing the message on the SD card was talking about Jesus Christ of the Bible instead of the Prophet Isa in the Quran, the Islamists grew angry.

Determined to reconvert all of the Christian youth to Islam, they took them to a boarding school on their compound. While some of the youth were released or went into hiding, several girls were detained at the school for more than a month.

“[Jesus] told us this would happen,” a father of two of the girls said, referring to Matthew 10. “He told us He is sending us out like sheep among wolves. This persecution will happen, and He will be with us.”

Spirit-Led Boldness

Since the girls had not been allowed to gather extra clothing or other daily necessities before being taken to the Islamic boarding school, they had no toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush or feminine hygiene products for several weeks. And they had no extra blankets to protect them from the chilly evening air. Eventually, however, the Islamists let the girls leave briefly to obtain basic necessities with money their parents had sent them.

Everyone at the school, from students to teachers, called the girls “Christians” as a derogatory term to mean “infidels” rather than “followers of Christ.” But they were prepared; they had learned during discipleship training that persecution is part of following Christ.

The oldest girl told a front-line worker that when she was with the other girls, sharing a windowless room at the school, she didn’t cry. Instead, she tried to display strength to the younger girls; they prayed together to overcome their shared fear and sadness. Then, one day, they were separated.

When the girls were split up, they were again interrogated by teachers at the school. Although the teachers tried to catch them in a lie, the girls — led by the Holy Spirit — always had the same responses to their questions.

The teachers were surprised by the girls’ consistency and boldness, and the girls were equally surprised by what they heard themselves saying. They often responded to the teachers’ questions with questions of their own, much as Jesus responded to His accusers.

One day, a teacher asked the oldest girl if she had a tattoo of a cross on her body. Muslims in the area commonly believe that all Christians have such a tattoo, so the teacher wanted to look for the marking.

Although children are not expected to question authority in conservative Muslim culture, the girl decided to challenge the teacher’s request. “We will take off our clothes and let you look for a tattoo of a cross on our bodies,” the girl said, “but if we don’t have one, you have to agree that you will take off your clothes and show us that you don’t have a cross.”

The teacher decided not to search for the tattoo.

Persecution Now Normal

One of the Christian girls had a severe lung condition, and her parents feared she would die without her medicine. Aware of the girl’s condition, a villager took the girl’s medical papers to the boarding school one day and demanded that all of the girls be released. Otherwise, the villager argued, they would have a death on their hands that would draw negative attention. Finally, 42 days after being taken from their families, the girls were released.

The girls’ faith grew immensely as a result of seeing how God provided for them and sustained them throughout their abduction, interrogations, lack of basic necessities, fear and grief from being taken from their families.

“They are proud to follow Jesus, and they are confident”

“They are proud to follow Jesus, and they are confident,” the front-line worker said. “There is not a struggle to be like everyone else. They know they want to follow Jesus even if that means they are different and not going to be accepted by their community.”

 The girls were still ostracized by their community after they returned, and they have been barred from attending their former schools. But they still participate in discipleship training, both in person and weekly over the phone.

“We want them to know what the Word says,” the front-line worker said, “that this is going to be normal for them.”