Process

The night started out normal enough, but soon our youth house, where we were free to worship was attacked. The power went out, our pastor was beat up and dragged away, we were blindfolded and forced to our knees.

Fortunately for us, it was a simulation. The people who were shot with air soft guns didn’t die and the people who attacked us and Pastor James were youth leaders and people from the church. But unfortunately, this happens everyday(?) in China, Pakistan and Iran. Our brothers and sisters in Christ are being killed for their faith.

I’m glad I was a part of the simulation. It really opened my eyes to the world. Instead of just my world. So as the night went on and four true stories were read, a story of my own popped into my head. And also inspired by the drabble about Mary M. that’s currently on James’ blog.

Unbelievable.
Even now, ten days later, it’s still unbelievable.
The screams.
The bullets.
All the noise.
It haunts me day and night.
The night my brother convinced me to go to one of his gatherings was probably the worst night of my life.
They caught us. Singing praises to Jesus. The room quickly filled with chaos as the people scatter and guns went off.
They cursed and beat us. They had long whips and sharps sticks and were not afraid to use them on use at every chance they got. Soon every hand was bound and every eyes was covered.
I cried for my brother, not THINKING how much trouble that would put him in.
Pain.
The man behind me pressed me up against a wall and I could feel every bone in my nose breaking. He told someone to find Jin Li, that he was going to be the first to die.
I heard people trying to get away, and fighting with their captors, but they were quickly killed without regret.
Jin Li.
I hear his voice. It’s weak. But as he says his last words, he seems to get stronger.
“Name someone” a brute said.
He named the emperor.
He was quickly whipped.
“Do you love this Jesus of yours? Do you think he will save you from us? From this country? From this Hell?”
“YES!”
I scream as my brothers life is quickly ended. They hit me as I fall to the floor, a helpless, weeping mess.
The rest was a blur of screams and shots.
Loose?
The rope that bound my hands are getting loose, giving me some leeway. With my ear pressed to the floor, I can hear the footsteps everywhere but in the room I’m in. They left me for dead. Either that or for later. I start moving silently, as the rest of the room is quiet.
Wet.
Sticky.
I managed to get the blindfold off my face by rubbing it off. It falls around me neck and my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. I look around and see nothing but dead bodies. And I’m covered in their blood. As I start to realize it, the house also smells of blood and dead flesh.
I keep moving though. Not wanting my own life to end. Though as I move, tears rush down my face.
They died for this Jesus.
Darkness.
The screams and shots fade and I realize I’m free. No more houses, roads, people in black, or blood.
I’m free.
WHY?!
Why did I get away free when people who were there for a real REASON had to DIE?!
Why was I so lucky?
Lucky to live with the smell, the looks on the dead faces, the noise, the tears.
Jin Li.
I get to live while he’s dead.
“Do you love this Jesus of yours? Do you think he will save you from us? From this country? From this Hell?”
“YES!”
Ten days later.
In a ditch.
In hiding.
Afraid.
Through all of that…I want to know, who is this Jesus and why don’t I know Him?
IF PEOPLE WHO KNEW THE RISK STILL TOOK IT-
I want to.
I owe them that much.
To put their witnessing to good use.
…To put my brothers life and testimony to good use.
I don’t care now.
Kill me.
Torture me.
Beat me.
I have to know this Jesus.