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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.

Click here to find out about Christian persecution in Colombia and learn how to pray.

Post a prayer for Pastor Santiago and family on iCommitToPray.com

Click here to find out about Christian persecution in Colombia and learn how to pray.

Post a prayer for pastor and his family on iCommitToPray.com

Click here to find out about Christian persecution in Colombia and learn how to pray.

Post a prayer for Rodrigo and Astrid on iCommitToPray.com

The stranger sat down in Dena’s living room chair and made himself comfortable. “Your husband has been gone for three days,” he said knowingly. “He is far from home.” The man then began pulling his shirt off, revealing a crudely stitched knife wound on his shoulder. “I need a shower,” he demanded, “and I need some food.”

Realizing that he could be a member of the paramilitary group that controlled her area, Dena wasn’t surprised that he knew her husband was gone. Villagers often shared information out of fear of the paramilitary, which emerged as one element of a long-standing conflict involving government forces, drug cartels and guerrilla groups like the FARC (Armed Revolutionary Forces of Colombia). Dena could tell that the man was only trying to frighten her into doing what he wanted.

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“Give me your money,” he ordered, staring at the paper pesos in her hand. Church members had brought her the timely gift earlier that day; the church knew it wasn’t wise to collect a tithe because the paramilitary would only take it from them.

“This is all I have,” she replied.

“Then give me water.”

Silently, Dena began to pray, “Help me know what to do, Jesus.” Remembering that two women from her church were in the back of her home for a prayer meeting, she called out, “Sister, this man needs a drink of water!”

When the man realized there were other women in the home, he stood up and began to curse at her and her friend. He grabbed the money from Dena’s hand and left as abruptly as he had arrived.

Surrounded by Danger

When Mauricio travels to surrounding villages for ministry work, Dena and her three daughters are left vulnerable. She also knows that each time he leaves could be the last time she sees him. Yet she is convinced that the Lord has called them to minister in a Colombian “red zone” — together. Mauricio has been a pastor for more than 17 years and Dena for over eight years.

“I’m not a pastor because I’m a pastor’s wife,” she said. “I knew what I would face because the call is made by God. So there is some fear. I’m a little afraid, but I’m trusting the Lord and praying always. We put our hands in his.”

In order to visit a church outside their village, they must get permission to leave from the paramilitary and then get permission to enter another village. If caught trying to leave without permission, they could be sent back home or even killed. Visiting the 15 churches that Mauricio and Dena oversee is a challenge, and even the type of transportation they use can put them at risk.

When VOM asked them if a motorcycle would be useful, they said it would be too unsafe. “Usually people [paramilitary or guerrillas] who are involved in the conflict use [motorcycles],” Mauricio said. “A person can have whatever motorcycle they want. But if there is a need, it will probably be taken away by people in the conflict.”

Owning a car is also a problem. “When someone begins to acquire stuff, he becomes a target for criminal organizations … or people inside the conflict,” Mauricio explained.

“If a person is starting to have a better standard of living … then the paramilitary or guerrillas will start asking you for contributions to sustain their conflict.”

These contributions are called “vaccines.” They “immunize” Christians and other villagers against further trouble from the paramilitaries and guerrillas. “If you pay one, you must continue paying them until they decide that you don’t have to pay anymore,” Dena said.

To avoid drawing too much attention to themselves, Mauricio and Dena travel to other villages in the back of a large truck that looks like a military transport vehicle. They cram into the back with more than a dozen other people as well as sacks of grain and chickens. “There have been accidents,” Mauricio said. “They turn, and people have flown out of the vehicle. So it’s a problem. But that’s how we get around.”

Transportation isn’t the only danger they face.

While leading a church service in an area where they used to live, Mauricio and Dena were caught in a shoot-out. “We had to lie flat on the floor because bullets were passing over our heads,” Mauricio said.

More than Conquerors

Despite being surrounded by danger, Mauricio and Dena have an eternal perspective. “Yes, we are afraid, but we do it,” Mauricio said. “It’s true sometimes we preach and we know that in the group we may have paramilitary members. So we get in where we are supposed to preach about Jesus, and we preach about Jesus.”

Dena is equally committed to sharing Christ in dangerous areas. “We like expanding the kingdom because sharing the gospel is not an option — it’s a command,” she said. “And he said to share the gospel to every creature. Pray for us because the situation is not easy. But we know that in Christ we are more than conquerors.”

Mauricio and Dena trust fully in God’s plan for their lives, asking only for prayer. “It’s not easy to minister under those conditions,” Mauricio said. “So we need to pray, and we ask the brothers and sisters living in safer places to pray for us.

“I will tell the brothers and sisters that are not living under persecution that it is worth it to serve the Lord. It is worth it to follow Jesus. It is worth it to totally surrender.”

Click here to find out about Christian persecution in Colombia and learn how to pray.

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“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.”

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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.”

When authorities told Leonardo to stop preaching, he 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.

When soldiers from the Colombian Army arrived to repel the attack, the guerrillas took the boys’ father hostage to aid their escape. Although they released him four hours later, fighting between the guerrillas and government forces dragged on for days. Many of Luis’s friends were killed in the attack.

All Things Made New

Luis found true peace in Christ at age 13 and immediately felt the need to help people in villages like his who had suffered from the decades-long insurgency. “He told me He was my God and my Father, and He would always be there for me,” Luis said. “I felt the love of God come back in my life.”

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Using his small savings, Luis bought books, games and other items to distribute in his old village, which remained under threat. He also brought New Testaments and gave them to everyone he met, including police officers, soldiers and guerrilla fighters.

“I told them, ‘Jesus still loves you despite all the pain you have caused,’” he said. “I was scared, but I thought, If I die, I die with Christ.”

As an adult, Luis serves as a pastor in an area controlled by a paramilitary group. He assumes members of the group attend his weekly church services, listening to what he says and reporting back to their authorities. And he knows they could decide he is a threat at any time and give him 24 hours to leave, as they have done with many other pastors.

“I’m not scared,” he said. “It is my passion. I have a call from God to preach in these high-risk areas. I desire to keep on reflecting Christ.”

Luis has a special heart for others ministering in difficult areas. Although still young, he already facilitates training for pastors working in the red zones.

Liliana didn’t choose to grow up in Colombia’s treacherous frontier region, where Christians sometimes receive death threats just for attending church. And she didn’t choose to watch her family’s faith erode in a torrent of grief after her father’s murder. But she sees now that God used these trials and setbacks to direct His purpose for her life. And for Liliana, with that purpose came redemption and healing.

Liliana’s parents, Amelo and Christina, moved to one of Colombia’s most treacherous areas to serve as church planters before Liliana was born. They were sent to pastor a church in the notoriously dangerous region along the Colombia-Venezuela border, where the Colombian military struggled to suppress a guerrilla insurgency by the Armed Revolutionary Forces of Colombia (FARC).

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The FARC funded its rebel activities in part with cash from Colombia’s lucrative cocaine trade. And in response, drug lords formed right-wing paramilitary groups to counter the FARC’s incursions into their drug-trafficking monopoly, forming a third front in the chaos of Colombian violence.

Although their work was very dangerous, Christina and Amelo had a clear conviction of their calling. “We would always say, ‘We do not fear what man can do with us; we fear the Lord,’” Christina said.

The FARC opposed their ministry work, knowing that young people who came to know Christ tended to abandon their guerrilla movement or never join in the first place. Members of the FARC threw rocks on the church’s roof during services, threatened the couple repeatedly and even ordered them to stop meeting as a church.

“One day we were having a service, and they threw a cylinder bomb into the church,” said Liliana, who was 4 at the time of the attack. “We had to run outside and hide under a bridge. Thanks to God, no one was hurt.” Her parents’ reaction showed their commitment to their work: They simply repaired the roof and continued to meet there for worship.

In the early 2000s, fighting between the guerrillas and paramilitaries grew so intense that the entire village was forced to relocate. Still, Liliana’s family moved with the villagers and continued hosting house church meetings.

But the FARC didn’t overlook Amelo’s defiance. One day in 2011, the pastor left his house as usual and never returned. Liliana, then 13, never heard from her father again.

While Amelo was no longer a threat to the FARC, that did not stop them from continuing their threats against his family. Guerrilla fighters entered their home and robbed them on more than one occasion, and they once sent the family a message saying they were going to burn them alive.

In the aftermath of Amelo’s murder, the family’s faith was fragile. They stopped going to church, and Liliana’s mother abandoned her faith completely for a time. “I came to the conclusion that God wasn’t real because I went through so much,” Christina said. Liliana’s older brother turned his back on God, too, while Liliana herself viewed God as a distant, silent actor who sat back and judged her.

The family had assumed the FARC was responsible for Amelo’s disappearance, and their assumption was confirmed a year later when guerrillas delivered a message to Liliana’s 17-year-old brother: “Join our movement. If you don’t cooperate, we are going to do to you what we did to your daddy.”

They fled in a panic, waiting until 1 a.m. to slip onto a bus headed for Bogotá. Once settled in the capital, they were depleted and scared, trusting no one. “When we first got here, none of us could talk,” Christina said. “We could only cry.”

They were shattered emotionally, physically and spiritually. “My mom was working all the time,” Liliana said. “The others came home from school tired. There wasn’t much unity between us.” Then, about six months later, they met with some VOM representatives, who listened to their story and offered to help.

The VOM workers invited them to move into a VOM-supported safe house, where they would receive spiritual support and time to recover without the pressure of rent payments. “It was super wonderful,” Liliana said. “[The safe house] was a time of coming back together as a family.”

Liliana’s family lived in the safe house for a year. The children attended school and enjoyed a time of rest and security with their mother, and the family received counseling from two dedicated pastors. In addition, they began attending services at the church that oversees the safe house, frequently hearing speakers from around the world talk about international missions work. Though Liliana’s family had served as missionaries in an unreached part of their own country, much of what she heard was new to her. “At that time, we didn’t know anything about missions,” she said.

After their year in the safe house, Liliana and her family were ready to move ahead on their own. When her older brother finished high school, VOM helped him get into a university, where he is studying biomedical engineering.

Liliana’s heart had been touched by a speaker who ministered to Palestinians, so when she graduated from high school, she had one request for VOM workers: She wanted to study missions and eventually go to Palestine as a missionary.

VOM arranged for Liliana to study at a discipleship school in Chile for six months, where, she said, God provided healing. “Many things I could not do before, because I was afraid,” she said. “And there was restoration in my relationship with God, in seeking Him, in communicating with Him.”

Her calling to Palestine also was reaffirmed during her studies at the discipleship school. “I felt an urgency for those people, for that nation,” she said. “My testimony, my life is going to help people.”

Liliana, now in her twenties, is spending the next year working at the discipleship school in preparation for life as a full-time missionary. Though the ground of faith had threatened to crumble beneath her feet after her father’s murder, today Liliana stands firmly on the spiritual foundation he helped build.