Did you know that you can give to the work of The Voice of the Martyrs online? 

If you didn't, I wanted to tell you that you can.  I've had numerous people ask over the years if donating to the Voice of the Martyrs was available online and so today, I thought I would let everyone know that there is a very easy way to give a donation to our work. 

All you have to do is click here and this will take you directly to our donation page.  Once you're on the page, you'll be given an option where you'd like to designate your giving.

The first option is "where needed most", however, there are also nine other categories where you can specify your donation to go.  Here are the different categories:

-action pack

-action pack sponsored

-bibles to captive nations

-families of martyrs

-families of prisoners

-Muslim world

-parachute project

-PSP program

-VOMedical

As you can see, there are numerous wonderful opportunities to give where there is help needed.  The Voice of the Martyrs is also a non-profit ministry so whatever you donate is also tax deductible.

Thank you for caring for the persecuted church and all of the needs The Voice of the Martyrs offers to meet through your generous gifts. 

If you have children, I really want to encourage you to become well acquainted with our Kids of Courage website because there is a wealth of wonderful information for you to use with your children at home, in your church and even in your school.

A few days ago there was a wonderful blog post titled Ask a VOM Worker: The Only Security that I wanted to share with you because it will give you insight about where security is truly found.

VOM intern Kelly C. interviewed a VOM worker who grew up in another country. She asked him the following:

Question: Were there things that you learned as a child that helped prepare you for your work now?

Answer: My mom died when I was 13, and she was my best friend. I realized that if even your best friend can be gone from one day to another, nothing in this world is sure.

When I finally found Jesus, or he found me, I found the only security in life. When I joined the mission field, people asked me, “Why are you going to the mission field where you don’t know anyone or anything? You will leave everything behind you that is secure.”

I thought about it and I realized that the only thing that is really secure is already here. He goes before me, and he’ll be there to take care of me. Not just my childhood, but also how I came to faith helped prepare me for this work.

“Push it! Don’t stop!” the man yelled in my direction. I start to run again.

I was miserable, and I blamed my sister. After all, she had the bright idea to buy my family these bootcamp sessions at the local fitness center. Her reason: to spend quality family time while getting into shape. I had no idea what I was getting into when I said yes.

On the first day, our trainer made us do The Beast — a workout so intense that I get tired writing it all down.

Another day, we carried rocks. But these were not simple rocks — these “rocks” were boulders weighing a third of my body weight. I struggled to pick them up. It was a lot of rocks, too. The group made piles with these rocks; we jogged up terrible, long hills with the rocks; threw the rocks and did push-ups; and when we thought we were finished, our trainer said, “Okay, now take the pile you just made and put it back. Don’t stop. Go!” 

He made us do this for up to an hour and a half. By the end of the day, my arms would be like wet noodles, my legs had turned to jelly and my stomach could scarcely hold my body erect.

If you ever attempt a “boot camp” like this, here are some tips:

• Take a large bottle of water or Gatorade
• Get a good night’s rest
• Have a cup of coffee in the morning
• Eat a healthy breakfast to keep you going

One day at training, a thought stopped me in my tracks — just long enough for my trainer to yell, “Pick it up!”

Why did I stop? Because I had never considered the countless Christians working harder than I was that day. They don’t have a good-intentioned trainer; they don’t have a good night’s rest; and they certainly don’t get a cup of coffee and big breakfast to boost their energy in the morning. In places like China, Vietnam and North Korea, Christians sentenced to hard labor might get only a meager bowl of rice and some dry bread.

Sweat dripped down my now-burnt nose as I sprinted up a 100-meter incline with a 25-pound bag. I am currently in my best physical shape ever, but I was struggling with the effort. I can only imagine what my brothers and sisters in Christ experience as they work for hours at a time.

I reached the top of the incline and did 25 shoulder presses. I needed a break, to put the bag down and breathe — in, out, in. Christians working in labor camps don’t have this privilege. If they pause, they are beaten back into working. They receive no rest.

Simply put, I have no understanding of what they endure. And yet many of them remain committed to Christ as they suffer for his name. One Chinese pastor even told us he was glad not to be released early, because he started a church in prison!

How do they do it? How do they work hours like this without energy, proper nourishment or even sick? I believe that it is solely the power of the Holy Spirit that sustains these believers.

I picked up my heavy bag and started again, but not without a prayer for my persecuted family. Pray with me as they suffer for their faith in Jesus Christ and stay faithful.

 

Are you familiar with this question?

“Mommy, Daddy, who is Santa Claus?”

If we haven’t heard it from our children, we may remember asking it ourselves. Thus proceeds an onslaught of stories and wild tales. “Well, Santa Claus is this fat man that delivers toys to all children around the world. He slides down the chimneys, and you leave him Christmas cookies as a welcome gift.”

You hear the familiar words everywhere you go: “He’s making a list. He’s checking it twice. He’s gonna find out who’s naughty or nice. Santa Claus is coming to town.” It becomes almost unbearable, but you must endure. Children love the festivities.

I also asked this question as a child. In my mother’s wisdom, she guaranteed me that Santa Claus did, indeed, exist — but I never left him cookies or sneaked downstairs to see him. Instead of telling me about reindeer and a fat man sliding down our chimney (which was impossible, because my house doesn’t have a chimney), mother told me where “Santa Claus” came from.

Most of you know the story of Saint Nicholas, so I will spare you the details. If you don’t know the history, please look it up. It is quite moving. Ultimately, the fictitious Santa who delivers presents to children, eats cookies, wears a red suit and laughs a very jolly “Ho Ho Ho!” is a representation of God’s unceasing grace — impossible in reality but in God’s majesty, possible. Here is a man who delivers free gifts, even though you don’t deserve them.

Even if you tell your children about the true meaning of Christmas, they may lose the message to the modern Claus. For a child, the story of Jesus Christ is distant — something untouchable from the distant past. Christmas is coming! And when children are warned to be on their best behavior for Christmas presents, that becomes their reality. Their understanding of grace is warped. Grace is not earned; it is given to the undeserving. We need to remember that no matter how hard we work, no matter how much we try, God’s grace — salvation through faith in Jesus Christ — is never earned.

Our persecuted brothers and sisters in Christ have a deep understanding of this beautiful grace. They celebrate it every day without the Christmas trees, presents or cookies. They understand it so deeply that they willingly risk their lives in gratitude. 

Just like me, you will probably wake up on Christmas day and follow all the family traditions. Enjoy this. Take advantage of it. There are many Christians who cannot openly celebrate this beautiful day. However, don’t forget that the true message isn’t the presents under the tree, but the Christ inside your heart.

 

Read Genesis 39.

For Joseph, slavery, Potiphar’s wife and prison were not detours from God’s will for his life. In fact, they were God’s will for his life. They were the path to the palace. They were not in the way; they were the way.

Circumstances and the people around you are not your enemy. They are God’s servants placed there to sanctify you and take you to higher ground.

Chinese pastor Zhang Rongliang realizes this truth. Rongliang, a founder of one of China’s largest churches of over ten million members, is also one of China’s most prominent pastors. The Chinese government fears and despises him — or perhaps, they fear the way God uses him.

God uses this man wherever he goes. He was released last month after seven years and six months in prison, convicted for a crime that usually only receives a six-month sentence.

Two major things happened during this time. You see, Chinese Christians are not allowed to visit prisons or start prison outreach ministries. So Rongliang took advantage of this opportunity. He ministered to everyone he could – prisoners, prison guards and officials he could never have met outside prison. Over 5,000 men lived in prison with Liang, and many of them were able to hear the good news of Jesus Christ.

While Rongliang ministered inside the prison, outside the prison, people throughout the world acted. Thousands of people wrote letters, the U.S. State Department worked to secure his release, and China Aid Association ardently supported Liang while also trying to gain his freedom. Even more people — countless people — prayed for his release.

I keep reading and re-reading something Rongliang said in an interview after his release; I can’t seem to stomach it.

“I am happy that you and others tried to arrange for my release, but in one way, I am happy that you failed. You almost made a big mistake. If you had been successful, there would be no church in that prison today.”

As I sit and ponder, I ask myself, “Was it a mistake to pray for his release?” I struggle with this idea — questioning my intentions, but the Holy Sprit speaks the undeniable, “I have a better plan,” into my heart.

If what I thought was best had actually happened, China would be without a significant ministry inside one of its prisons today. A pastor might have fewer problems, but 5,000 Chinese prisoners would not.

I should not have been so close-minded to think that the only answer God had was release.

When we pray only for someone’s release, we pray for what we think is best. However, His plan often looks much different than ours. We must depend on God and pray for His plan to be fulfilled.

Our activism, the letters we write and the petitions we sign may not have the effects we have in mind, but it does strengthen the church. Before Rongliang was released, he knew that he was supported. In an interview with a VOM contact, he mentioned multiple times how much the West supported him through prayers and letters.

Perhaps, all our activity on the outside kept him alive on the inside. We don’t know what our actions are really doing for someone. We do not know how God uses our activism.

I am more determined than ever to live as an activist.

If God uses my prayers to reach 5,000 people versus one person, let it be. After all, He is sovereign. He knows what needs to happen much more than I do.

So, what would you do if you knew you would fail?

Like many Americans, I followed the story of Josh Fattal and Shane Bauer with interest over the past couple of weeks. They spent the last two years experiencing something few of us ever will.

The two American hikers spent more than two years imprisoned in the Islamic Republic of Iran after being accused of espionage. They insist they are innocent and were held hostage simply because of their nationality. They arrived in New York on Sunday, greeted by family members and the press.

I praise God that they are released. No one should be treated as these two men were.

When they were first arrested, Fattal and Bauer spent three months in solitary confinement before being locked in an 8-by-13-foot cell together. Just last month, they were given a trial behind closed doors. The two hikers told Reuters that the case against them was a “total sham.” They said that even though no evidence was presented against them, they were still sentenced to eight years in prison.

As soon as I thank God for Fattal’s and Bauer’s safety and release, the Holy Spirit triggers something deep within me. Something I read in a Reuters news article increased my distress.

“Many times, too many times, we heard the screams of other prisoners being beaten and there was nothing we could do to help them,” Fattal said. “Solitary confinement was the worst experience of our lives.”

I have no idea whose faces are behind the screams that now haunt these men. I don’t know the specifics of the situation, but I do know that Iranian Christians are imprisoned throughout the country.

Those screams could have come from Youcef Nadarkhani, the 34-year-old pastor who has been in prison since October 2009 (http://www.prisoneralert.com/pprofiles/vp_prisoner_214_profile.html?_nc=48700ebfb6bdacb8240bbfa865cf6017).

Those screams could have come from your Christian family members, dear brothers and sisters.

Despite their horrific treatment, Fattal and Bauer were at an advantage. Entire nations and media industries monitored their case. After they were placed in a cell together, Fattal and Bauer spent time reading and testing each other on various topics. They were allowed a short time in an outside room for daily exercise. During their 781 days in jail, they talked with their families on the phone for 15 minutes, and their mothers were allowed to visit them once.

The Iranian government wanted to keep them healthy. When Fattal and Bauer staged repeated hunger strikes because they couldn’t receive letters from their families, they were successful. These two men were taken care of because world media and multiple governments carefully monitored their case.

It still took two years for them to be released, at the cost of $1 million bail.

Unlike Fattal and Bauer, few monitor the cases of imprisoned Christians in Iran. If two American hikers experienced this kind of treatment, what do Iranian Christians experience? They are at the mercy of their captors.

Many Christians probably remain in solitary confinement, never given the opportunity to exercise, and they would likely be mocked if they tried a hunger strike. After reading about Fattal and Bauer, everything inside me cries at the thought of what is happening to imprisoned Christians right now. They probably never see their families, and I highly doubt that they are given a Bible to read.

They are screaming. They are hurting. And I sit here, writing a blog.

“It is the Iranian people who bear the brunt of this government’s cruelty and disregard for human rights,” Bauer said.

Bauer told Reuters that he could not forgive the Iranian government when it continues to imprison other innocent people. In contrast, our Iranian brothers and sisters in Christ are routinely imprisoned and denied basic human rights. They are taken away from their families, and yet they continue to forgive their persecutors. Christ often gives Christians a power to do something they never thought they could do — forgive.

Reports indicate that persecution of Christians in Iran is increasing. Please pray for the Christians still imprisoned in Iran and for their Iranian captors. Our hearts should go out to those who show no love to our family or us. We must pray that God’s love breaks down these incredible walls of violence and injustice. Also pray for Bauer and Fattal, that they would experience the peace that Christ offers us through forgiveness.

Have you ever tried putting the toothpaste back into the tube?

I tried it once in a middle school Bible study. Some of us thought we knew how to get the paste back –squeeze a little of the tube, suck in the paste, shove it to the bottom of the tube and repeat.

It might be practical in theory, but it just didn’t work. It ended up everywhere, a greater mess than anything. It was between our fingers and on our clothes.
Before we knew it, everything was sticky and smelled oddly like mint.

I never put much thought into that experience —trying to put the toothpaste back into the tube. Until now…

I have always known about the persecuted church. I grew up reading The Voice of the Martyrs newsletter. Actually my mom read it; I spent hours fascinated by the photographs. Mom always saved them and put them in a basket next to the couch. If someone grabs something to read, they usually find a VOM newsletter.

I always thought VOM was a great organization with a great mission, but something happened this summer. The persecuted church changed from something I was aware of, into part of my identity. I feel hopeless — but forget the negative connotation. It is more like I’m “hopelessly in love.” I can’t explain how it happened, but I turned into a tube of toothpaste. My spirit pours out a love for my persecuted brothers and sisters. There is no way to put it back in without making a mess.

I pray that you experience this change from awareness to identity — if you haven’t already. This change makes you love someone you may never meet. You desire to care for persecuted Christians and to share their testimonies with others.

Toothpaste has a purpose. It cleans teeth and it freshens breath, thank goodness. My passion and love for persecuted Christians has a reason for too. I will write, I will speak and I will inspire others. My internship at VOM has come to a close, but my support for the persecuted church never will.

“Remember them that are in bonds, as bound with them; and them which suffer adversity, as being yourselves also in the body,” Hebrews 13:3

In the morning, I detest everything but black coffee. No cream or sugar, please.

When I get to work, I need a cup of coffee. In fact, I have one sitting in front of me right now. The steam rising off the top of the rich drink is perfect class. Who needs Audrey Hepburn when you have a cup of coffee? Well, everyone. But I bet that if Audrey were alive, she would be drinking a cup of coffee right now.

Bartlesville is hot. This week, it has been over one hundred degrees every day. Add humidity on top that, and I am almost glad that my internship is over in three weeks. However, inside The Voice of the Martyrs’ office, the cool environment is easy to work in. There is one down side: if I don’t drink my coffee fast enough, I end up with cold coffee. Not iced coffee, just hot coffee turned cold.

No matter how you take your coffee, it just isn’t as good when it turns cold.

I interviewed a couple yesterday who travel throughout the United States to spread awareness about the persecuted Church. From what they told me, every person who hears about persecuted Christians have the same first reaction. They are surprised, and then they move into action: “How can we help?”

How do you react to the persecuted church? When you first heard about it, you probably read every article in the VOM newsletter and then passed it around to friends and family. The topic of the persecuted Christians conveniently related to every conversation you had. You prayed devotedly for those you may never meet. But as life happens, our perfect “climate” makes us cold. Many of us are back to praying for ourselves. We slip in a prayer for Iran or Eritrea when it comes to mind. We lay out our newsletters on the coffee table, making ourselves look devoted, but we may not have read them.

It is so easy to become like this in every spiritual situation. In daily devotions, we sometimes just shoot up a prayer and read a chapter in the Bible. “I am good,” a lot of us think after we read our daily proverb. What does it say about our spirituality when teenagers in restricted nations memorize entire books of the Bible, not knowing how long they will have their treasure until authorities confiscate it? We go to church every Sunday and hear our weekly sermon. Why aren’t we in the Bible for hours every day, soaking in every word of God? Do we realize how precious it is? Why are we not praying for the persecuted Christians who don’t have the freedom we do?

Nobody likes hot coffee turned cold.

This is one of the reasons why I appreciate the “tree-huggers.” They might have a passion about something I don’t really understand, but they are just that: passionate. When I think about tree-huggers, the image that comes to mind is one of people chaining themselves to trees. Their desire to save the earth inspires me to join them. And I don’t really care about trees very much. They are unappreciated, stereotyped and sometimes mocked. However, they stand firm and continue to tie themselves to those trees because they are dedicated to them.

I just now took my last sip of coffee. I didn’t drink it fast enough, and now it’s cold.

Coffee is unique; there is nothing else quite like it. But when it turns cold, there is nothing quite that like either. Perhaps this is a reminder for us all to never become cold Christians. Never lose your passion for living in God’s will, witnessing for Christ and serving our persecuted brothers and sisters. If you are cold, heat yourself up with the fire of God. You can’t make a real difference until this happens.

I was in New York City a few months ago and heard this story in a sermon. The pastor could not find the source, and I can’t find it either, but it is worth telling anyway.

The donkey awakened, his mind still savoring the afterglow of the most exciting day of his life. Never before had he felt such a rush of pleasure and pride. Everyone loved him. He walked into town and found a group of people by the well.

“I’ll show myself to them,” he thought.

But they didn’t even notice him. They went on drawing their water and paid him no mind.

“Throw your garments down,” he said crossly. “Don’t you know who I am?”

They just looked at him in amazement. Someone slapped him across the tail and ordered him to go away.

“Miserable heathens!” he muttered to himself. “I’ll just go to the market where the good people are. They will remember me.” But the same thing happened. No one paid any attention to the donkey as he strutted down the main street in front of the market place.

“The palm branches! Where are the palm branches?” he shouted. “Yesterday, you threw palm branches!”

Hurt and confused, the donkey returned home to his mother.

“Foolish child,” she chided gently. “Don’t you realize that without Him, you are nothing but an ordinary donkey?”

After the pastor told this story, the entire congregation drew in their breath in unison. It was loud enough for me to hear as I drew in my own breath.

The story speaks for itself.

So often I find myself acting like this ordinary donkey. If I am not expecting praise, I offer it unduly. The Voice of the Martyrs tells story after story of martyrs who hold on to Christ in their time of terror. There is a tendency to place these martyrs on a pedestal. This donkey reminds me that even ordinary Christians can one day experience the same treatment as the millions of martyrs before them. Although a martyr’s story is incredible to hear, we must never forget that the credit only goes to God.

In my last blog post, “My First Bowl of Cereal,” I mentioned how some Christians recant their faith under severe persecution. This can happen to anyone who loses sight of God. Glorify God for the perseverance He provided to past, present and future martyrs.

“Therefore let him who thinks he stands take heed that he does not fall. No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man; and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, so that you will be able to endure it.” — 1 Corinthians 10:12-13

I remember making my first bowl of cereal.

The cabinet with the dishes was so high. I pulled myself on top the counter and swung open the cabinet door, ducking so it wouldn’t hit me in the head. I jumped off the counter, gripping the bowl with both hands. Landing on both feet, I rushed over to the table and set the bowl down next to the box of Cheerios I had already pulled from the pantry. As I tipped the box over, the familiar sound of cereal falling into a glass bowl resonated throughout the room and my anticipation grew. I took the milk gallon out of the refrigerator and carefully, slowly poured the white cream over my O’s. With one spoon, I dunked each “O” to ensure each one was covered in milk. With a second spoon, I lavished one, then two overflowing spoons full of sugar over my cereal.

My mother had warned me against too much sugar. I ignored her warnings; I like my cereal sweet.

I was so excited. I lifted a large spoonful to my mouth. The next thing I remember, I was standing over the sink furiously spitting everything out. Sometimes in our rush to accomplish things, we end up with something we didn’t really want. Sometimes it takes accidentally eating salt to realize that not everything is sugar.

Those who support The Voice of the Martyrs are often awed when we hear of our brothers and sisters in Christ dying for their faith. It is heroic, and it is also tragic. They’re beheaded. They’re shot. They’re persecuted. But there is beauty in this tragedy. Those martyrs spend eternity in God’s presence, their death glorifies His name and their witness may win others for Christ.

But with the inspiring sugar of those stories, there are stories of bitter saltiness in the persecuted church. It’s time to see some salt.

In Kiangsi, China, two Christian girls, Chiu-Chin and Ho-Hsiu-Tzu, and their pastor, were sentenced to death. As on many such occasions in church history, the persecutors mocked and scorned them for being so foolish as to die for an unseen God. Then they promised the pastor that if he would shoot the girls they would release him. He accepted.

The girls waited patiently in their prison cells for the moment of their execution. They prayed quietly together. Soon guards came for them and led them out. A fellow-prisoner who watched the execution through the barred window of his prison cell, said that their faces were pale but beautiful beyond belief, infinitely sad but sweet. They were placed against a wall, and their pastor was brought forward by two guards. They placed him close in front of the girls and put a pistol into his hand.

The girls whispered to each other, then bowed respectfully to their pastor. One of them said:

Before being shot by you, we wish to thank you heartily for what you have meant to us. You baptized us, you taught us the way of eternal life, you gave us a holy communion with the same hand in which you now have a gun. May God reward you for all that you have done for us. You also taught us that Christians are sometimes weak and commit terrible sins, but they can be forgiven again. When you regret what you are about to do to us, do not despair like Judas, but repent like Peter. God bless you, and remember that our last thought of you was not one of indignation against your failure. Everyone passes through hours of darkness. We die with gratitude.

They bowed again to their pastor, closed their eyes, and stood silently waiting.

The pastor had obviously hardened his heart – he raised the pistol and shot them. No sooner had they fallen to the ground, then the communist guards put him against the wall for immediate execution. As they shot him, no one heard words of repentance, only the sound of screaming.

Some people recant their faith, and not every Christian stands firm. At VOM we often talk about those who come through persecution triumphantly. But for every person like that, there are many who don’t, and God still works through those failures.

Sometimes we have to accidentally eat salt to realize that not everything is sugar. Sometimes we have to see failure in order to appreciate the great faith of those who overcome persecution. Pray for the people like the Chinese pastor, that even though they deny Christ, that they might embrace once more the forgiveness and love that God offers. Pray that every person that has denied Christ might become a Peter, that their testimonies be examples of God’s forgiveness.