The benches hit the dirt floor first. Then the shouting started.
Lana was in the middle of praying when a group of young men forced their way into the room. They kicked over what little furniture they could find and told her to leave the village and never come back.
Just weeks earlier when Lana had first arrived in this small village in East Africa, a few families had welcomed her. They shared meals together. Then they started meeting in homes to read the Bible together.
Nothing dramatic. Just Scripture open on a table. Then people started following Christ. That’s when everything shifted.
Lana was accused of bringing a foreign religion. She was warned to stop. Watched. And that night, after the shouting stopped and the room was empty, Lana sat alone and cried.
She was afraid. She wondered if she should leave. Instead, she fasted, and she prayed.
Lana didn’t wake up the next morning suddenly fearless. The village hadn’t changed overnight. The men who shouted at her were still there. The warnings hadn’t been withdrawn. Nothing about the situation felt safer than it had the night before.
But something inside her had steadied.
After fasting and praying, she sensed the Lord strengthening her resolve. Not with dramatic signs or promises that everything would work out, but with a quiet conviction that obedience mattered more than comfort.
Leaving would have been understandable. It probably would’ve been expected. But she knew she’d been called to remain. So she did.
The gatherings didn’t stop, though they became quieter and more careful. Sometimes they met in different homes. Sometimes in smaller groups. They kept opening the Scriptures. They kept praying for their neighbors. They kept trusting that the same gospel that had first stirred curiosity in the village was still at work beneath the surface.
Over time, the resistance softened. Conversations reopened. Questions replaced accusations. One of the loudest critics eventually came asking for prayer when his daughter became sick. After believers prayed and she recovered, his posture began to change. Not instantly, but steadily. In time, he put his trust in Christ.
Today, there’s a church in that village. Not because opposition never came, but because it didn’t win. The moment that could have ended everything became the moment that defined the work.
Lana’s courage that night wasn’t spontaneous. Long before the confrontation, she’d been trained and equipped to open God’s Word faithfully and make disciples simply. She had support. She had encouragement. She knew she wasn’t alone. That preparation mattered when the pressure rose.
Across East Africa and beyond, other men and women are standing in similar situations right now. Some are being welcomed. Some are being watched. Some are being warned.
Each of them will face the decision Lana faced: stay or walk away.
Friends like you are helping make sure they’re ready. You’re strengthening leaders before the shouting starts. You’re helping ensure that when resistance surfaces, the Gospel doesn’t retreat.
Lana stayed, and God moved. Will you help the next leader do the same?
