Worth it all

The mid-day sun beat down relentlessly the way it usually does this time of the year at Mitire. At the military training centre, the commander prodded the prisoners on to continue their work for the day.

“Will you stop praying now?”

The meagre amounts of food and water have left the Christians dehydrated and with energy lacking for the massif workload.

But despite their frail condition after the many days of hard labour, the commander knew what the response would be. Of course they would not stop. There may be one or two who will probably agree to stop, but he has come to know that it is a senseless exercise to ask these Christians to cease that which they believe they are called by God to do.

These are a group of Christians who have been discovered joining thousands around the world in praying for the country of Eritrea. It is not clear exactly how they were participating, but we are told that when their participation was discovered they were ordered to stop. Upon refusal they were assigned to beating and hard labour. Eventually, they were sent back to their cells, but informed that they would not receive the normal ration of food and liquids as long as they insist on praying. Nothing more was heard of their circumstances.

Word of the Christians’ punishment was passed on to us by a friend, who coupled the news with thanksgiving to God for the believers’ faithfulness. Far away from the dry dusty winds of Mitire, we received the news with dread. We understand very little of their hardship and found it hard to offer an even hesitant “amen” to the words of thanks to God. Intellectually, perhaps we may consent, but we are mostly disturbed by the news of our family members’ added suffering.

From the word go this campaign has received the wind from ahead. Many misunderstood our motives, accusing us of losing the plot and compromising shamelessly. The amount of resources in time and money that have been eaten up by this campaign has exceeded all expectations. Now this! Was it really worth it all?

In our hearts of hearts, we know eternity alone will show the fruit on the love of those who laboured on their knees on behalf of the Church in Eritrea. But we are thankful that God graciously allowed us timely encouragement from Eritrean believers and participants along the way.

Hanlie

God’s grace is present in my life

Time after time we are amazed at God’s sustaining grace for His children in the midst of suffering. Here is another testimony of a woman tells with thanksgiving of God’s grace that enabled her to remain firm in the faith in the face of intimidation.

In 2009, members of our prayer group were gathered at our church when the police surrounded the place and arrested us.

After 3 days, the chief of the Police Station called me to his office and ordered me to deny the Name of Jesus Christ and to stop going to Christian meetings in future.  I told him I could not deny Jesus, the One who gave me eternal life.

Then, he took me out into the compound of the Police Station and made me walk barefooted on a rocky surface. Soon my feet were bleeding and the pain became unbearable. After an hour, the chief again called me and asked me if I was ready to denounce my faith. I replied, “If you had told me to stop stealing, I would have said yes! If you had ordered me to stop living an immoral life, I would have agreed.  But, for me to stop believing in Jesus is something that I have pledged not to do, whatever the cost may be.” 

Then the commander told me that they had brought in my pastor and that he had denied Jesus and was going home.

“If your leader did it, why don’t you also do it?” the commander asked.

“I don't think my pastor would deny Jesus. But, even he did, I would not deny Him. I do not follow my pastor. I follow Jesus Christ, my Saviour,” I replied 

Puzzled, the commander responded, “I really don’t understand you Christians! The more we go after them and make things hard for them, the stronger they become and the more they increase in numbers.” 

He told me to pack my things and sent me home. Through God’s intervention I was released.

I went home rejoicing over the presence of God’s grace in my life. My pastor, whom the officer referred to, visited me. He had not even been arrested; it was only a ploy to have me deny my Saviour!

- Name withheld for security purposes

Sharing the Gospel in a North Korean Gulag (Part 4)

In the past three days we read about Hea Woo, a North Korean Christian who fled her country’s brutal regime and came to faith in neighboring China. After her arrest and repatriation she was sent to a North Korean labor camp. God used her to convert five prisoners. Today we continue her story on the Loveritrea blog in the hope that we will be encouraged by what God has done in her life.

Hea Woo and her secret fellowship were never discovered. All six of them survived the camp. Just once, a short time for before Hea Woo was to be released, she was almost caught. “I was allowed to work alone. So I could sing softly, but in my enthusiasm it got louder. A nearby guard heard me singing and ordered me in. He was very upset. ‘What did you sing?’ he kept asking. I told him it was a political song. He said he heard something else. ‘You could not hear correctly,’ I answered. ‘I was far away.’ He let me go, only giving me a sentence of going one day without food, but I noticed that he was still very suspicious. Each time he noticed me, he looked intently at me. I got afraid and I asked God if He could please take the guard away from me. Ten days later, I saw the guard running out of his barrack, vomiting. Later I heard he had to go to the hospital for two months. He would not trouble me anymore. Only a few days later, I was released.”

God kept her alive in the North Korean gulag. Hea Woo is still very grateful for that. She prayed if she could go to South Korea. Her son had already arrived there and hired various brokers to get his mother to the south as well. “I am so happy here,” Hea Woo repeats. “I am not rich compared to most people here, but I have Jesus in my heart. He is the Shepherd of Psalm 23, the psalm of my life. I meditated on it every day in labor camp. Maybe I was in prison. It did not matter. The situation I was in had no impact on who Jesus is. He is my Shepherd. I felt peaceful despite the circumstances. Even though I was in the valley of death, I did not fear anything. God comforted me every day. A few times in a very special way: when God literally spoke to me and told me I was His beloved daughter. I just knew that God was preparing a table for me. He would bless me and glorify me. Maybe in this life, maybe in the next. It did and does not matter. I will dwell with him forever.”

Sharing the Gospel in a North Korean Gulag (Part 3)

Yesterday and the day before yesterday we read about Hea Woo, a North Korean Christian who fled her country’s brutal regime and came to faith in neighboring China. After her arrest and repatriation she was sent to a North Korean labor camp. Today we continue her story on the Loveritrea blog in the hope that we will be encouraged by what God has done in her life.

The guards took Hea Woo to a barrack she had to share with fifty other women. The beds were side by side. Every day had the same monotonous rhythm, she explains:

05.00 am    -    Wake up
05.30 am    -     Roll call in the barracks. “We lined up with our heads bowed until we were all accounted for. Then there was some time to wash ourselves.”
06.00 am    -    Breakfast. “We cued up again and slowly moved through the barrack where the food was distributed. This took a lot of time. We got only a small cup full of rice. Maybe about 2 or 3 spoons in total.”
08.00 am    -    “March to outside the camp, to the country side, where we had to do agricultural work. Until lunch time there was no break. Prisoners have no right to rest.”
12.00 am    -    “To the camp, lunch, walk back to the fields. About the same amount of food as during breakfast and dinner.”
02.00 pm    -    Back to work.
06.00 pm    -     Walk back to the camp and criticism session. “We had to criticize each other  and ourselves about the things that we did wrong that day. After that: ‘dinner’.”
08.00 pm    -    Ideological training. “The hardest part of the day. We were hungry and weary. Our eyes fell closed. But we had to stay awake and pay attention or we would be punished.”
09.30 pm    -    Counting of the prisoners.
10.00 pm    -    Go to bed.

Asked what the worst event was during her stay in the camp, she remains silent. Then she says: “I could not tell you. Every day was like torture. I often had to think about God’s plagues for Egypt. Being in this concentration camp felt like undergoing all those ten plagues at the same time. People were dying and their corpses were burnt. The guards scattered the ashes over the road. We walked that road every day and each time I thought: one day the other prisoners will walk over me.”

Then comes a strong statement. “Despite everything, I remained faithful to God. I want you to write that down. I remained faithful and God helped me survive. Not only that, He gave me a heart to evangelize other prisoners. Frankly, I was too scared to do it. I wanted to live. How could God ask me to tell the other prisoners about Jesus? I would die if they caught me. God persisted. He showed me which prisoners I should approach. He gave me a feeling: ‘That person. Tell Him.’ So I went to the person and told him or her what is in Acts 16:3, that people have to believe in Jesus and that they and their households will be saved. It was an encouraging message for those prisoners, who walked on the edge of death each day. They were easily converted. Not only because of what I said. They saw the Spirit working in me. Sometimes I gave some of the little rice I got to others. When people were sick, I went to them and helped them with washing their clothes.” 

And so a secret fellowship of Christians came into existence. “I tried to teach them the things I knew. Maybe that was not much and I did not have a Bible to read from. I could only share what I knew and the verses I remembered. On Sundays and on Christmas day, we would gather in secret places, like the restroom. There we would have a short worship meeting. I taught them hymns and we sang softly (Hea Woo whispers). All five of us survived the camp, because we looked after each other. We did not get into trouble despite our secret meetings.”

Read tomorrow the last episode of Hea Woo’s story about how Psalm 23 kept her alive.

Sharing the Gospel in a North Korean Gulag (Part 2)

Yesterday we read about Hea Woo, a North Korean Christian who fled her country’s brutal regime and came to faith in neighboring China. Today we continue her story on the Loveritrea blog in the hope that we will be encouraged by what God has done in her life.

After a few years in China, one by one Hea Woo’s three remaining children came to China as well. Hea Woo was arrested before she could flee to South Korea. Two North Koreans who stayed in the same safe house went to a bar, got drunk and were detained by Chinese police officers. They gave the address of their hiding place and when the police came, Hea Woo was the only other refugee present. All three of them were handed over to the North Korean authorities.

“I was lucky,” says Hea Woo. “After ten months in prison, I was only sentenced to a few years in labor camp, despite my Christian faith. But I almost died in prison. The guards were relentless. They hit me with sticks and kicked me. I was so discouraged and I started to doubt God. When I came back to my prison cell, I felt completely alone, even though there were twelve other prisoners in my cell. Then I heard a loud voice. I looked up, but nobody moved or blinked. I was the only one who heard the voice! It said: ‘My beloved daughter, you are walking on water!’ I knew it came from God. I knew He hadn’t forgotten me. During the years that I spent in prison and labor camp, I heard the voice a few times. Each time it was God encouraging me.”

Still, after five months in prison Hea Woo became terribly ill. “I had various diseases. My back and throat hurt, I couldn’t keep any food down, I was bleeding and could only stand when I leaned against the wall. The guards brought me to a hospital. The doctor told them I had only three days left to live. I prayed to God. I begged Him to not let me die before I had a chance to tell the world about North Korea and the faith of my husband. There were seven cruel guards and I asked God to use them to help me, even though they were part of Satan’s army. A miracle happened. Because the guards knew I was about to die, they gave me some extra food. Slowly I recovered. After five months I was completely healed. It was amazing. I did not receive any medicine, I slept on the floor with no heating system. Because of the cold I could hardly sleep, my hands and feet were often frozen, rats and bugs were everywhere. It was surely God who kept me alive.”

The day came that a big truck drove Hea Woo and other prisoners to the mountains. When she arrived at the labor camp, she noticed the enormous fence. On it were written a few words:

“DO NOT TRY TO ESCAPE

YOU WILL BE KILLED”

She would stay several years in this camp and experience the brutalities but also God’s love.

Read more about Hea Woo tomorrow.

Sharing the Gospel in a North Korean Gulag (Part1)

In most books and motion pictures about concentration camps, the author has taken God out of the equation – as if those hellish places and God are incompatible. The hero or heroine tries to make the best of the situation, but is completely at the whim of the guards, even of life itself. There is no God to turn to. But not so in this true story of 70-year-old Hea Woo*. Shortly after coming to faith in China, she found herself back across the border in a North Korean gulag. In this valley of the shadow of death, God spoke comfort to her, but also told her to evangelize. In the next few blog series we will follow her life story.

Like some 25,000 other refugees from the north, Hea Woo now lives in South Korea. North Korea is country ruled by the Kim dynasty since 1945. The 200 000 – 400 000 Christians are severely persecuted. Even the possession of a Bible is enough to be sent to a labor camp. A chronic famine makes many people flee to China. Hea Woo arrived in South Korea only a little while ago, which makes her say, “It still feels like I am on honeymoon. For the first time in my life, I am free. Free to go where I want, to do what I want and to worship Jesus in the open. I know many people don’t like South Korea, but what do they know about freedom? In fact, what does anybody know about freedom? I learned what freedom is when I was in labor camp.”

Hea Woo is a short, fragile and cheerful lady. It is hard to imagine that she survived several years of detention in a Nazi-like labor camp. It was only two years ago when she literally ran out of the camp. “On the day of my release I had to wait before that enormous, electric gate. When I was forced to work the land outside the camp, I was used to wait until the door was entirely open. Now, I ran towards the door and squeezed myself through the narrow opening. When I came to the road, I kept on running. Not once did I look back. I was so happy to leave this horrendous place.”

Long before the North Korean secret police brought Hea Woo to the labor camp, she had experienced a lot of trauma. During the Korean War (1950-1953), when she was still a young girl, North Korean soldiers ordered the people in Hea Woo’s village to march to the Chinese border. It took them two months. The people walked by night and took shelter from the American bombers by day. Hea Woo’s father, a doctor, was killed when he was serving in the army.

Hea Woo’s oldest daughter starved to death in 1997. She was only in her twenties. After her death, Hea Woo’s husband left to find food in China. He found much more than that. He became a Christian. Unfortunately he was arrested in China and sent back. He died in a North Korean prison six months later. A few of his former cellmates visited Hea Woo after their release, to share with her that he had told them about Christ, and that their lives were changed because of his testimony. “I was shocked to hear that my husband had become a Christian. But instinctively I realized that he had found the truth, whereas I was still living a lie. I was certain: our leaders were not godlike at all. I fled to China. I was looking for relatives living there, but they had left. So I turned to the only sanctuary I could find: a church.”

She was provided with food and shelter and received Bible study as well. Soon Hea Woo decided she wanted to follow Jesus Christ. However, thinking back about her past, she came to a shocking discovery. Her mother – who had passed away in 1990 – had always been a Christian! “Once during the Korean War I noticed a necklace with a cross around her neck. When I asked her about it, she just told me to not tell anybody else. And she always murmured when she made breakfast for us. She was praying of course. The deepest regret of my life is that I have never been able to talk about faith with my mother. I don’t know why she never mentioned Jesus to me, not even when I was an adult. It is probably because I was such a blabber mouth, not good at keeping secrets.”

Read more about Hea Woo tomorrow...

A Tender Connection

This morning my husband and I, together with our three children prayed for Eritrea in the comfort of our bedroom. Our hearts mostly went out to the Christian mothers of Eritrea, some imprisoned for their faith and others with husbands and children serving time in harsh military camps for their faith.

I could share a true story with my family about an Eritrean mother and her ongoing struggle to clarify the complexity of their Christian walk to her children. About two months ago I had the privilege of meeting Eritrean Christian men and women. This was my first encounter with Christians who are being discriminated against for their faith. I heard several stories of severe persecution. But my first one-on-one conversation had a momentous impact on me personally. She is a mother of three, like me; and comes from a big family, like me. We had significant things in common and I felt a tender connection with the women in front of me. Yet our realities did not correspond.

The more she spoke, the harder it got to steer my emotions. Her story saddened me to the very core of my being. She told me of the long, complicated process to get permission to travel.
I learned how they need to whisper during their underground fellowships and how after ten years’ closure, she misses singing in praise to God most of all. I also learned about her children’s naive questions to her about why the Christian music on their radio is barely audible.

At this point I was no longer able to swallow down the lump in my throat.

But the portion of our interaction that completely broke down my poise was when she felt like she had to confess to the fact that she desires a better future for her children. There are only a few institutions of higher education in Eritrea and the only university, Asmara University, admits a limited number of students. She truly felt guilty! Despite all that this mother had to go through to protect and care for her family, she thought it wrong to have higher aspirations for her children! Her silent search for an opportunity to offer her children something better made her feel ashamed.

All this time I could only listen in disbelief. Words fell short. I was overwhelmingly aware of my inept digesting of her record.

But the Lord in His sovereign wisdom opened up a small gap for me to respond. Attempting to put her heart at ease regarding her dreams for her children, I offered this woman some mother-to-mother affirmation. Who better understands the furtive desires of a mothers’ heart than her Creator Himself? Is it not very natural for a mother to want only the best for her children? My mother-heart surely wants nothing less for mine. Depending on the Holy Spirit’s guidance, I made a great effort to relate with her, shedding some light into her burdened conscience, encouraging her to distance herself from unnecessary baggage that comes with unwarranted guilt...

Her story of faith, trust and hope ministered to me. Despite the Eritrean Christians’ struggle, there is no turning back for them because of their personal relationship with Jesus Christ. I realised, looking at my life of ease compared to hers, not to become too comfortable. I reminded myself to consciously make enough room in my world for God to mould and make me into a vessel of honour to His glory, even at the cost of those comforts.

And as I was sharing this with my children, willing them to grasp something of the circumstances our brothers and sisters face, I prayed to God to bring restoration to their beloved Eritrea.

Corneli