The Fellowship Of Suffering

What is your definition of suffering?

There is a book titled, 'The Insanity of God.' It was written by a missionary who worked with a very poor and seemingly hopeless people. For years he tried to help them but with little success and if he did reach someone for Christ, they were badly persecuted. He finally said, "God, you must be insane."

He became so discouraged and faint of heart that he left, but he decided he would visit countries around the world where people are persecuted for being Christians and see how they endured.

In a country in Russia, when it was still the USSR, he met a man who spent seventeen years of unimaginable torture in a wrenched prison, just for being a Christian. When asked how he kept his faith, he said it was because of two things.

Everyday when he woke he stood in his tiny, filthy cell, faced east, raised his hands to God and sang a song of praise. The other prisoners mocked and screamed at him to shut up, they threw human waste at him in protest, but nothing deterred him.

The second thing he did was write down every bible verse and hymn he had memorized. He scoured the prison for any scrap of paper and used a tiny pencil stub if he could find one or a piece of charcoal. When he had completely filled the paper, he would stick it high on a leaky drain pipe that ran through his cell as an offering to God.

The guards always tore them down and he would be badly beaten. This happened day after day, but his faith remained strong. One day the guards dragged him from his cell, beat him horribly and told him his wife had been arrested and his children were now wards of the USSR.

After days of this he finally broke. He could take it no more. He agreed to renounce God and sign a paper saying there was no God. All he had to do was sign that paper and he could go home. "Yes, bring me the paper, I'll do anything, sign anything, just let me go home and find my children."

He was taken back to his cell and the guards went to prepare the papers. As he sat on his bed feeling forsaken, his family and friends in his hometown felt an urgent need to pray for him. They gathered and did just that. God allowed the man to hear the prayers of his family and friends. He heard his wife and children praying for him and he knew the guards had lied. His family was safe and together.

When the guards returned with the paper, he refused to sign, saying God had shown him his family. The guards dragged him from his cell and out to the common area to execute him. As they dragged him through the prison, the other seven hundred incarcerated men, the same men who had ridiculed him, stood and lifted their hands to God and began to sing.

The terrified guards jumped back from the man and asked, "Who are you?" He answered, "I am the son of the living God."

He was released a short time later to go home to his family and he sat among them and his friends as he told his story.

This is a shortened version of his story, I'm telling it from memory. I left out many amazing things that God did for this man.

He endured unimaginable torture, hatred, filth and no doubt, much of the time, starvation, with no real hope of an end except death. Yet he endured, his faith wavered only once and God revived him.

Is this suffering? I say yes, and then some. Have I ever had to really suffer? No.

There are many elements to suffering, and I can't truthfully say I have endured any of them, maybe a broken heart, pain over the death of a loved one, but never real poverty, or hunger, nor homelessness or persecution. Could all these things happen one day? Of course, and I don't doubt that Christians here in the US will one day be imprisoned and executed for our beliefs.

Do I want to suffer? No, but there is something amazing about those who have suffered and endured. They are forever changed. It has made them strong and brave, compassionate and impatient with the small, silly stuff. They see miracles and have an unshakable faith and I would like to be like that.

The fellowship of suffering isn't an exclusive club; millions are persecuted and put to death for their faith. You'll not hear much about it on the news, it may be called 'genocide', but don't be fooled, those dying are Christians. More Christians are killed today than ever in history.

When the Sudan in Africa was ravaged by 'genocide', thousands of young boys were left alone. When the killers swept through their villages, they were out in the field caring for the cattle, most far from their village. As a result these boys came together and began a thousand mile walk to Kenya.

The Red Cross set up food and water station along the way for the thousands and thousands of young boys and the strange and eerie silence that surrounded them. The worker said the boys were so exhausted that none spoke, it was completely silent. Many lay down to sleep not waking in the morning, having died during the night of exhaustion and starvation.

Camps were set up for the boys and most lived there until turning eighteen. They were clothed and fed, and received a good education thanks to the dedicated missionaries who ran the camps.

You would think after going though such a horrendous ordeal they would be angry, bitter. Several of these young men came to the US and were given a tour of a Boeing factory. When asked what they thought of what they had seen, one answered, "How great is our God that He has given man the ability to do such amazing things!" No bitterness at all.

The Fellowship of Suffering, is not one people are clamoring to get into, but it is one that causes you to shine like gold, refined by fire and nothing can dull that shine.


The Insanity of God is written by Nik Ripkin. The Lost Boys of Sudan was an NBC TV special, really amazing.

Stupid Things

Stupid Things

Sometimes I do stupid things,

I know better, usually,

Because in my head a bell rings,

A little voice saying, "Don't do that!"

But, you know, I do it anyway.

Sometimes I wish someone had sat,

On me when I didn't listen to that voice.

Sometime it's not so little.

I know I didn't have to, I had a choice.

But we humans can be so dumb,

And if I want to do something,

I tune out the voice, make myself numb.

Then I'll say, "How come I'm in this mess,

I don't deserve it!"

But I know I do and I must confess,

I want someone else to take the blame,

I think, "It's not my fault!"

But deep down inside I feel the shame,

Of doing what I shouldn't do.

And I bet,

Sometimes you feel it too.

I wrote this poem after doing several stupid, unChrist like things. That little voice said, "Don't do that, don't say that, don't post that!" But did I listen? NO, of course not.

Now I have damaged my witness. I'm very grateful God forgives, but people aren't so forgiving and they have long memories. 

I had to block people on twitter because they were real unhappy about something I said, which I didn't even think about and had no idea it would get such a reaction. Gay people are so sensitive! I hadn't thought a thing of it and the other day I check my twitter responses and saw all these unhappy people. I couldn't even remember what I had said, and I assure you it was not directed at anyone and not intended to be offencive in anyway. But it got swift reaction, gay supporters don't mess around, let me tell you. So I thought it prudent to block them so they couldn't continue to harass me.

I don't mean or think we shouldn't stand up for what we believe in though.

Anyway I got into trouble several times this week and felt very defeated for a day, but I got over it. I do hope people will forgive and come to see how wonderful I really am.  =} But most of all I hope I learned a good lesson to think, to remember I may be the only Jesus some people see and act accordingly.