After traveling for seven hours on an ordinary public transport bus along India’s roads, followed by another two hours in a private taxi along a bumpy path, I thought I knew what endurance meant.

That belief quickly dissolved when I met 35-year-old Manemma and her two teenage daughters, who were taking shelter more than 60 miles from their village.

As her eyes filled with tears, Manemma shared how her faith was challenged by Naxalites, guerrillas associated with the Communist Party in India who oppose Christianity’s influence. She discussed how she and her family endured persecution from the Naxalites for following Jesus. The family received multiple warnings from the group, pressuring them to deny their faith. Eventually, Manemma’s husband was killed just outside the family’s village.

After her husband’s murder, Manemma took her teenage daughters and fled. Her family is one of the 12 families that I met during my two-day visit to central India to meet the survivors of persecution.

Recently, incidents of violent attacks have been rampant in the region, including the evictions of Christians from their homes and villages, which put survivors in a dangerous condition. Like Manemma’s family, hundreds of other families had fled their villages, not knowing where they would find shelter.

Manemma and her daughters left everything behind — their belongings and the agricultural land that had been their only source of income. After walking several miles, they reached a village where the Christians offered them a small piece of land to build a hut and live.

“Finding daily wage work is very difficult in this place, as local landlords do not trust outsiders,” Manemma said. “At times, we survive on the mercy of other Christians in the village, who themselves are living in similar conditions. When nothing else works, we collect forest produce and sell it to survive for the day.”

After spending a couple of hours with Manemma’s family and five other displaced Christian families in that village, each sharing similar testimonies of how they stood firm in their faith amid hopeless conditions, I noticed a hint of heaviness on their faces as I prepared to leave. At that moment, Manemma turned to me and asked,

“Would you please pray for us, that our lives would be normalized?” she said. I promised the group that I would be praying for them.

As my trip continued, we drove another 50 miles through small villages. The pastor accompanying me told me there are hundreds of Christians in these communities who fled their native villages and are taking shelter. Each family endured the test of their faith. They were willing to leave everything, including their families and homes, instead of renouncing Jesus.

I arrived at my next destination around 7:30 p.m. It was quite dark. I met 31-year-old Dhanraj, whom I knew through a phone conversation. Dhanraj and his family of four were recently displaced about 125 miles from their native village. Villagers plotted to kill Dhanraj; miraculously, he was saved. His home, however, was looted and destroyed.

With help from a fellow Christian, Dhanraj and his family travelled more than 120 miles, hoping to restart their lives from scratch. When I met Dhanraj, he looked disheartened and exhausted, having faced constant pressures while living in an unfamiliar place just to meet basic needs, such as food and shelter.

The local church in the village where they were displaced offered him a small piece of land, just a few square meters, on which he has built a hut and is currently staying.

“One day I will return and be a witness for the Lord in my village,” Dhanraj said. “I hope the situation in my native village will improve so that I can go back. My extended family, my mother, and my brothers are still there. I want to be a witness for the God whom I serve.”

Standing beside the church with Dhanraj that night, as the gentle sound of hymns rose from a small flock of believers gathered in a little church in a remote village, I was reminded of Romans 8:35.

As I reflected on that verse, I realized that nothing could separate Dhanraj and Manemma from the love of Jesus, and the resilient faith, not even the loss of a spouse, persecution, hunger, nakedness, and much more.

In that moment, my own faith felt far less significant than the innocent, tender, yet courageous faith of these precious lives.

Story by an ICC staffer

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