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Shazia Posted on 01/30/2010 12:00 AM   |  EMail to Friend   |  View Comments (4)

Precious little Shazia- so much pain! I am one of the privileged few able to go to college, be educated& afford the much coveted bag of sugar, flour or lentils. My heart aches for my little sister Shazia&her family. Have you heard about her? Pakistani press has done the story of an abused Christian justice, by making public what happened to our sister in Pakistan. The 12 year old was abused& beaten to death by her employers where she did domestic work for a Muslim family where her family had sent her to work, entrusting her to a Christian middle man called Imanat- which is ironically means ‘possession&care’. The little girl was sent to work for a Muslim family. The employers never promised to care for the lives& betterment of the children being brought to them. Shazia did not stand to receive an education or training, was beaten mercilessly. Initial reports claimed sexual abuse as well as constantly being beaten, thrown down the stairs. Initial reports told us more than 90 injuries that were discovered when her dead body was discovered. ‘This is not how I sent my little girl’ sobbed her mother. ‘When the police came I was frightened, I thought maybe I had done something really bad’ said her little brother. He was discovered by the police when Shazia’s parents insisted their other children be returned in case they met the same fate. What are you thinking my friends? I almost see the furrows in your foreheads. I can almost read some of your thoughts- because for a split second they were my thoughts too. ‘Why would a parent send their little girl and little boy to someone’s home to clean and let them live there?’ There are many Shazias. Remember my best friend who grew up with me. Her mother used to help our mother with the cleaning. Amma&Abba were unhappy about her bringing her daughter with her but she explained there was no way she could leave her little girl alone with an alcoholic husband. Amma&Abba agreed to have my little friend come with her mother. They would come early so that she could be left at school. After school, she would come back to our place where Daadi would teach us both Urdu from the Bible& Math and Amma would supervise English. Others don’t always think that way. They may not even have thought it was necessary for any education to be pursued at all. There are many Shazias in Pakistan. Their parents do not have much of an option they need some money&think they are sending their children to a better home, to 3 meals a day&better life. They are oblivious that they are sending their children into volatile situations of abuse. Most employers will not see them as their own children or feel any responsibility let alone compassion toward them beyond a meagre salary and paltry meals- even that is generous. Little Shazia was severely malnourished. How many other little Shazia’s are sent to bed hungry and made to sleep on a cold floor and beaten? For many there will be no fairy godmother. There is no wand to make it all ok. They do have Emmanuel who is with them. Please pray that more Christians will be educated in the dangers of sending their children out as domestic workers& for the village Sunday schools&churches, that they would help lead more Christians to know the Jesus of the Bible, not the Anti Mohammad, but Jesus- God the Son, Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God and Son of the Everlasting Father so when they find themselves in these situations, Scripture be imprinted on their hearts& they can call out to Jesus to strengthen them& save them in their hour of need.

Collecting her tears Posted on 01/27/2010 12:00 AM   |  EMail to Friend   |  View Comments (10)

Only yesterday we had watched Esther make her way down the aisle at church. How radiant she looked! Waiting for her was her proud groom Yusef, bursting with school boy excitement. Her father trying to look brave as he gave his 20 year old daughter away to the man who loved her. I still remember her beautiful saree &jewellery. Her own parents were poor &so her uncle in the US promised to pay for the wedding. She was like a princess who has had all her dreams come true. She fell in love, was not forced to marry anyone, got to wear whatever she chose- everything was to her liking. She was thankful to God &did not take it lightly. They left for Rawalpindi, near Islamabad where Yusef ran a small business. It took care of them. Life was simple, filled with joy &God’s faithfulness. She celebrated every second &was thrilled when she fell pregnant hardly 3 months into their marriage. They were ecstatic. Life was getting even better. They would face life’s challenges &bring up their little child as best they could. Then the shocking news that Yusef had died in a huge accident. He had seen little Emmanuel &had been so excited about the future. Now it is just Emmanuel &Esther. It had been 3 years since she walked down the aisle &2 years since Yusef died. Her parents insisted she come home. Yusef’s family did not want to take care of her after she became a widow at 23- a burden to those who see girls as a drain on their resources anyway. Why care for someone else’s daughter? She is so brave &works so hard. Although the tears lurk visibly behind her bravery, she hangs onto her newfound faith in Christ. ‘My husband was taken away from me, but now Jesus is my husband. He is my lover. When Yusef was alive I took it for granted. Now Jesus is my love, my best friend, most intimate friend who knows my heart for Emmanuel. He knows I want to stand on my own two feet &provide for Emmanuel as a mother. I want to answer every question my son ever asks me about Jesus.’ After Church, we snuck into the vestry &talked. She put her head on my shoulder &tears poured out. “Maaria, I do not want to get married again. But Amma &Abba can no longer provide for me &Emmanuel. What I get at work is good &I am not complaining about that but this is beyond financial. Maaria they say that my brothers will not be able to marry and bring wives into our home because I am here and as a widowed older sister I will always be an emotional and financial burden and the sisters &sisters in law will fight and cause the brothers to fight as well. Having a widowed sister in the house will be a cause for conflict. I am no longer a virgin so I will be looking for satisfaction in illicit relationships anyway. They cannot take that burden in the community so it is safest for me to get married again. Every time my aunts and uncles see me this is the topic of conversation. There are proposals but Maaria you know how it is. The only people who want to marry me are 50 year olds with 5 children from a previous marriage. I still love my husband how can I enter into another marriage how can I put the love of my husband aside? He was my husband, we were one – he was not a boyfriend that I can put it aside. Maaria, I understand my parents love me &this is only out of love, but Maaria I cannot marry another. I just cannot. Please help me, pray for me. I want only to be with Emmanuel and bring him up in the ways of Lord." My heart broke. God brought her to my shoulder &as she wept I prayed that as promised in the Psalms she would know that He was collecting her tears in a wi

Pray they return to the fold Posted on 01/25/2010 12:00 AM   |  EMail to Friend   |  View Comments (4)

So thankfully the boys made it home the other night. We praised God late into the night& spent the evening talking about the year ahead&what each of us thought God wanted from us for 2010 &what we hoped to do for the Lord and his people. Reena, my cousin asked for special prayer for the year ahead. She is in medical college&finding it increasingly hard as a Christian. She said there have been times she is tempted to avoid the fuss &change her name so people do not pick her out of the crowd. As we sat around a small stove in the veranda just beyond the chicken wire door off the kitchen and the fog got thicker outside the boundary wall of our house & the sky became undeterminable behind the cloud of fog, she told us how she&three other Christian medical students live under the constant shadow&threat that the axe, 295 C- the penal code for the blasphemy law- will fall on them any day and destroy them, their career&any hope for a future in medicine in Pakistan- in fact even a future in life. Sharifaan, who was also spending the night with us because the fog makes it dangerous for her to go home, started to tell us about her niece. All of us cringed as she began the story. It has been a painful truth we have all faced over the years. Christians are all considered ‘Chooras’ which is incorrectly interpreted by most Muslims to mean ‘sweepers’ –associated with the caste system which would have put sweepers at the lowest caste, defiled, dirty&untouchable. It also associates us with being dark skinned&good for only cleaning wealthy peoples’ dirt. Sharifaan began telling us about Fareeda who was the lightest skinned member of the family &was made much of among her brothers&sisters for not being so dark¬ looking like a ‘Choora’. She was spoiled at home. When she went to school she realised that all that love&comfort ended at her front door. At school, she would make instant friends, but as soon as the other children realised she was not a Muslim&despite her paler skin she was a Christian- she was dropped. Over the years, she realised that the only way she would keep her friends& get a decent grade was if she stopped making a big deal of her faith&avoided the faith issue. She stopped calling God ‘Khuda’ (the Persian reference to the God of the Bible)&used the word Allah&became increasingly pluralistic in her approach. She did not deny she was a Christian but she would often punctuate the declaration with something like ‘But what does it matter if I am a Christian we both believe in Allah&in doing good deeds’. She did not hate God but she did hate the fact that her identity was connected with a community known for cleaning homes, being abused&raped¬ having a successful future in Pakistan. As Sharifaan re lived the tragedy of Fareeda’s life, her eyes filled with tears&she choked on her words. I put my arms around her. I had heard this story but she vowed to tell it again&again so every Christian child knew it was wrong. Fareeda had eventually fallen madly in love with her Muslim friend’s brother who had wooed her&put on the charm so thick that there was no way she could untangle herself from the relationship&when her father refused to let her visit this family any more, she made the big decision. She would marry her Muslim friend. She did and although she did not convert to Islam she had already made so many compromises that there was no real Christianity to leave. Weep with us for the Fareedas of Pakistan&pray for us as we seek to reach out&minister to them &encourage them to come back to the fold of the

Checkposts Posted on 01/09/2010 12:00 AM   |  EMail to Friend   |  View Comments (8)

In one room Great Aunts and Great Uncles are huddled around gas heaters shelling pistachios and sharing news about relatives who have moved away to Canada and the US, in other rooms, Uncles and Aunts and Cousins, are seeking out sunny spots or warm spots to sit and discuss politics, the news or the year ahead. I have managed to use our closet, sneak out of a worship session. My cousin Dawood has a guitar and everyone has found themselves around him, singing worship hymns. Right now streaming through the door is the sound of worshipful young people singing 'Here I am to worship.' In these times this is precious. Night before last cousins from Lahore, Karachi and Islamabad came down to spend the last two days of winter break with us. We are in a slightly safer area but one never knows. Everyone needed a break so they found themselves here. Amma and I went out and bought 'borees' which are gunny sacks, of loose jacket oranges and we have already been through vast amounts. The fragrance of oranges and bananas brings back memories of our childhood immediately and we have found overselves missing the old Pakistan. We did not even notice when Pakistan changed, when war and violence violated us and took away our sense of security and turned our homeland into a safe haven for terrorists. Last night the boys decided to drive out to the local market and pick up some famous Pakistani fish. Unlike a few days ago when he and I went out for coffee, the police check post was not such a friendly place. Abraham was stopped and all 6 cousins who were piled into a tiny car, were asked to undfold themselves from the car and searched thoroughly. They were interrogated and asked to empty their pockets, their car was searched and eventually the police man came to the point; he wanted a bribe. In the midst of this, the fog was coming down thickly over the city and some say fake check posts have been set up, vulnerable people are being stopped (people stop because we have been warned by the authorities that the police have the right to shoot if we do not stop so no one takes the risk) and on gunpoint searched and robbed. In the fog the police is at a loss and the tension has risen. When one cannot even see the road, how can one see a potential terror threat. As I write this once again I am waiting for my brothers to come home from church choir practise. I did not go with them today because Amma needed my help. I was not sure they should go either. An hour ago they told me they were on their way home. Now they are not picking up their phones. I do not know where they are are nor why their phones are not responding. I am concerned but I know God has His hand on them. I am not the only person in Pakistan. Thousands of Maarias are praying for their brothers and fathers to come home and thousands of Maarias are praying that when they go to the market they will come home safe and not be punished for being Maarias - for being Christian women. Stand in this gap with us - there is more than a climatic fog - there is spiritual fog and we need eyes to see through that.

The Battle Posted on 01/07/2010 12:00 AM   |  EMail to Friend   |  View Comments (8)

Everyone is so tired of being house bound and not going anywhere or doing anything that they have decided what will happen will happen, we have no control over that but we must live. To be honest with you my friends I do not even think about the possibility of a bomb when I am out now. We heard today on the news that 2 miles from our home a car was discovered with over 300 bombs worth of ammunition in them! We were shocked, thankful and then a little sober but all the while remembering that our times are in His hands. Had it been His will we could have been victims of something fatal. Night before last Abraham and I went for a drive. We needed a coffee outing and so we went to our favourite haunt where we sat with steaming mugs of tea. I had a hot samosa (crisp fried pastry with a potato filling) and Abraham had a lemon tart. What used to take us 15 minutes has become 40 minutes with the number of check posts we had to go through. We had to produce ID 100 times and explain where we were going. Having a lady in the car with him made it easier for him because of a (probably false and dangerous) assumption that suicide bombers are men and Abraham and John both fit the profile except they do not don beards. Now of course even terrorists shave off their beards before they embark on a mission so as not to become suspect. But as we went through a check post the car in front of us was stopped and the men inside were asked to step out. They were tall, big built men, with long greasy hair and thick beards. Their eyes were darkened with Surma which is like Khol but is used widely among people who frequent shrines and holy men. As they were searched, one spat at the feet of the police officer, then as we drove past, I made the mistake of taking a long hard look. As I did, he stared back at me. In the dark, his eyes blazed with malice and disapproval at a young woman out without covering her face and head and even more disapproval that I was looking him in the eye. Then his face became darker and redder when he saw the cross that hangs from the rear view mirror. The men with him had the same menacing expression. I doubt they had explosives on them or they would have been caught then, but they were angry men. I shuddered and I felt as though He has seen right through me and had seen that I am child of Christ and wished he could wipe us off the face of Pakistan. It was a moment of spiritual conflict. His evil allegiance and my faith in Christ and allegiance to His Holy Spirit coming in direct conflict. I do not know if I could ever explain it to you but in that instant the engine stalled. The car stopped and although it did not die and we restarted it and went on, I know in my heart of hearts there was spiritual implication in that moment. I do not know if I can ever express to you the impact of that moment or even what I felt but I know I needed to share it with you. Brothers and sisters this was one small incident in which it became ever so evident that we are constantly in a state of spiritual confrontation and interaction. Praise God, as believers we are covered in the blood of Christ and in that we are able to overcome some confrontation by His Name and be safe. But the oppression and the battle continues to happen every day and sometimes it becomes so intense that though we cannot be destroyed by the evil one, we do grow weary and we do become weak and tired. In that Battle will you take up the sword of the Spirit for us and pray for us? We will not be conquered because Christ is victorious. I praise God for you.

2010 Posted on 01/05/2010 12:00 AM   |  EMail to Friend   |  View Comments (7)

2010! I cannot quite believe it. This will be my last year in college and next year I will need to think about an MA degree. How fast it has flown by and yet every moment has made itself known, some moments lighter than others with opportunities to smile, but others heavy and full of the weight of what occurred within the 60 seconds the minute encapsulates. Almost 800,000 babies have been born to Christian families in Pakistan, other moments have seen the loss of Christian lives, be it through outright persecution or in the way Christians are neglected and their quality of life deteriorates and their life span is just shortened or their lives are played with. Other moments have seen the initiation of prayer groups and conversions, others have seen the marriages of young Christians and the celebration of God working in the next generation, others have seen the sad falling away of Christians, those who have given up the fight, been termporarily blinded by the deception of Islam and falling into its trap. And these moments change our lives and direct our moods and emotions and though they may discourage or encourage us and where they are boulders in our paths at times, we believe in a God for whom 2010 pales. A God for whom a day is as a thousand years and a thousand years is as a day. In His scheme of things, from His vantage point there is purpose and there is hope, there are the prayers of the saints, a cloud rising to Him. Within that cloud are your prayers and thanksgivings for us, your intercessions for us that come to the ear of the Son who in turn interceded with the Father. In that cloud He reveals that His people seek His Son to perform miracles and breathe the Salvation and Hope of God into their lives. That is beautiful to Him, even if it is tears and weeping and sobbing just as much as laughter and praise and rejoicing. When we reach out to Him, when our prayers rise as a cloud to Him, from His Holy Temple He reaches out and ministers to our needs by His Holy Spirit. I am believing that for every bomb and explosion that He knows is being planned, for every act of terror that is being planned as I sit in my room and type this, I am believing that God will in His compasion and mercy not only save innocent lives from the threat of violence but will also reach out from His Holy Place and minister to the needs of suicide bombers and terrorists and transform their anger and hatred and breathe salvation into their lives. I am believing that you my brothers and sisters are praying for us and lifting us before the throne of grace and I believe that our own cry for help and strengthening and your intercessions on our behalf will bring the message of the Gospel to those who walk in darkness. I do not ask that the persecution will stop in 2010 because to ask that is in contradiction to what Jesus promises as a blessing. I ask that we, the Christians of Pakistan be given the strength and perseverance to show love and grace in these hard times, to show HIS LOVE AND HIS GRACE despite the thorns, the nails and the crosses, becuase before me He bore it all and by Him bearing it my people and I can walk this walk and be known as those who are not fearful of death but celebrate life in Christ, a people for whom death has lost its sting. Then released from the burden of fear we will radiate with the love of Christ and more will come to Him.

Christ In Crisis Posted on 01/04/2010 12:00 AM   |  EMail to Friend   |  View Comments (3)

There have been endless rounds of cashews, pistachios and home made sweets that have gone around groups of family members and guests huddled around gas heaters. With so many of my parents' aunts and uncles having moved in with us, we have had streams of relatives over this Christmas. It is always busy but this year has been really precious. Christmas day was tense and none of us quite knew how to respond to the policemen who surrounded Church. We gave thanks for these Muslim men who were obeying orders and protecting Churches and Christians on the 25th. They were just agents, signs of protection and a sign that the government recognises our needs. But truly we know our protection and safety was in the hands of the risen Lord and it was Him we gathered to praise and worship and His miraculous birth we gathered to celebrate. That is where our joy came from. Despite the difficulty in getting to markets, every one had done well with managing to sort out new clothes for Christmas. It occurred to me that the Pakistani Christian is perhaps the strongest person in Pakistan - or ought to be. Though we are deprived of our rights and we cannot dream of being Presidents and Prime Ministers and though we can expect a tough day and disappointments when we enter the public domain - we have a higher strength and hope. We can be assured that we in our race will not be weary and that the Living God will give us wings of Eagles. Despite the despair in the eyes of the guards at the Church gates and those who simply want to buy their groceries, depsite the hopeless fear in the eyes of a bride made up and dressed in her finery - despite that God has given Christians hope of eternal life, He has given us wisdom and insight and so we should be able to reach out to a people in despair and promise them that Christ - Emmanuel is God with us - and indeed God is with us. Reena was in Church after many months. Reena was a young teacher who had moved from our city to Lahore where she was teaching at a Christian School. She had followed the Lord's guidance in taking this job and when both attacks happened her family was terrified. But in both she testified to how God used her to minister to children and hold them and protect them as shrapnel fell around them. While her face and back were injured the children were safe and she was able to hand them over to their thankful parents to whom she testified that it was Emmanuel who had taken care of them - not her. Continue to pray for us. We have the opportunity to minister Christ in crisis. Most of the people on the streets, even policemen and security guards, look pale with fear and almost paralysed to a whiteness. Will you pray that in the midst of this we will be able to pray for them and minister to them with the hope and glory of Christ within us? We stand because you, brothers and sisters, are seeking the gap and standing in it and praying for us, crying out to heaven and there the Son sits on the right hand of the Father and intercedes for us. Praise the Lord!