A few years ago, I had to move out of the old place I was renting. It was bittersweet for me. It was sweet as it opened the door to new opportunities but bitter as it felt like I was losing a part of my life that I held fondly because of all the memories attached to that place. Even though I was the one who chose to leave that place, it was still difficult.
Change is not easy.
Whether it’s a change in where you live, a change in your work or the loss of someone in your life, it all comes with some kind of loss, which can be difficult.
We have all encountered changes in our lives and the emotions that followed them …
Nostalgia
Relief
Sadness
Excitement
Denial
Hope
Hopelessness
And the list goes on.
It makes me think of our persecuted family, whose lives are turned upside down because of persecution, discrimination, violence and conflict.
Can you imagine what emotions they must go through? None of them are good. There’s no room for nostalgia when you’re being forced from your home. It’s not bittersweet – it’s just bitter.
At this moment, many of them have been displaced from their homelands due to persecution, conflict and violence.
According to the
2024 Global Report on Internal Displacement, at the end of 2023, a total of 68,3 million people were living in internal displacement as a result of conflict and violence.1
Millions have lost everything: Their families, homes, belongings, community, heritage, education, health, livelihood and security – things we can take for granted so easily.
They were not only driven from their homes, but were also forced to live with the loss while life goes on.
It’s everywhere …
A displacement crisis is unfolding in Mozambique in Africa, with many people now residing in resettlement camps. The violence that unfolded in 2017 in Cabo Delgado has created a massive humanitarian crisis.
According to our local partners, the recurring attacks have forced many of the displaced people to do odd jobs and live off any food they can find. Open Doors’ field partners say many of the displaced have been diagnosed with health problems relating to their blood because of the food they’re forced to eat.
The spiritual and emotional impact of these attacks on the Church is also crippling. Many pastors have shared with our partners in the past that they’re not able to minister to the displaced Church, as they, too, are struggling to process the attacks.
“Christians are targets of serious persecution.”
Pastor Mario
Last year’s attacks hit military targets, but the Islamic State has also attacked churches and Christians.
“In Mozambique, Christians are targets of serious persecution, many believers are raped and killed, several churches and houses are destroyed,” says Pastor Mario*, an Open Doors partner.
But this is not just happening in Africa. Across the world, several displacement crises have unfolded.
In Myanmar, the civil war is being used as a tool of persecution, destroying Christian communities and driving believers from their homes.
Believers have long been persecuted in Myanmar, but the 2021 coup intensified their suffering. Military airstrikes destroyed Christian communities and churches, killing thousands of people. We estimate that about 40 000 Christians have been displaced or forced into hiding.
“We’re running, and sometimes we’re crawling.”
Pastor Yang
“We’re running, and sometimes we’re crawling because they’re shooting. Sometimes, we run the whole week searching for safety and survival. Behind, there is bombing still going on,” shares Pastor Yang*, who, along with his family, has been driven from his home again and again due to the war.
Meanwhile,
Christians have also been displaced in Mexico, but the reason is very different. Drug cartels are forcing believers into displacement.
According to the research department of Open Doors Mexico, last year, 57 incidents motivated by organised crime were recorded in just five months, highlighting the vulnerability of believers in the face of the growing wave of violence in the country.
This situation threatens not only the physical safety of believers but also their freedom to practise their faith in an increasingly hostile environment. Because their ministry work focusses on children and single mothers, they face increased risks as the cartels see children as potential customers and future recruits to swell the ranks of organised crime.
“We’re being watched because the children we serve are considered a possible human resource for the cartels, so they may see the teaching group as a threat to their interests,” says Marcos, a missionary in the region.
In the Middle East, which has the second-largest displacement crisis in the world, each year, numerous Iranian Christians flee the oppressive Islamic regime. While they escape fierce persecution and imprisonment, life as a refugee in the region is hard and can seem hopeless.
Kouroush* found a house church and eventually became a leader, for which he was imprisoned. Yet, the time in prison didn’t scare him off. After his release, he continued his ministry. But the Secret Service tracked him down again. Kouroush saw no other option than to leave his beloved country and flee to Turkey.
What would have helped Kouroush, who found himself in a new country?
A safe place. A place to feel at home again and talk to people who speak his language, a place to share his story and find help. A place where he could satisfy his hunger for the Word of God. “And I am not the only one,” says Kouroush. “Finding such a place is one of the biggest challenges for any Iranian refugee.
“It was some kind of fear, mixed with sadness and confusion about why I was here”
Kouroush
“It was some kind of fear, mixed with sadness and confusion about why I was here: I lost everything. My job, my family, my country.”
Kouroush’s words are those felt by millions of displaced people around the world, including displaced Christians. Whether displaced within their own country or a foreign one, they’ve lost everything and life is uncertain.
What does this mean for us?
It’s easy to think this is a “them” problem. But it’s an “us” problem. Their suffering is a reminder of the vulnerability that exists within all of us.
I understand that reading their stories can make you want to shut down, to avoid the harsh realities of pain and persecution.
I admit that, at times, working day in and day out with their stories has been overwhelming for me. And sometimes, I’ve allowed the busyness of my own life and worries to consume my thoughts, making it easier to retreat inward rather than face the discomfort of their suffering.
Lord, forgive me for my dry eyes – for the times I’ve turned away from the pain of my brothers and sisters, avoiding the uncomfortable truth that their plight reflects our shared vulnerability.
The reality is that natural disasters, armed conflict and political instability can affect anyone, anywhere and at any time.
Nowhere is safe.
We are called to fellowship in their suffering...
For those within the Body of Christ, the displacement crisis is not just about offering physical help – it’s about standing in solidarity and prayer with our brothers and sisters who are suffering. We are called to weep with those who weep and to bear each other’s burdens (Romans 12:15, Galatians 6:2).
When one part of the Body suffers – whether in neighbouring Mozambique or elsewhere – we all share that suffering.
Life is uncertain, and none of us are immune to its sudden changes. One day, we may need the prayers and help of fellow believers in Mozambique and other parts of the world.
Let’s continue to be faithful in our love and support for those within the Body of Christ while also staying rooted in the eternal hope that Christ provides.
Together we can be Christ’s hands and feet in a broken world.
*Names changed for security reasons
