International Days of Prayer for the Persecuted Church--We Are People of the Cross

Sunday was the first of two Sundays designated internationally

as Days of Prayer for the Persecuted Church.

Our Sunday School combined all classes for a time of prayer for our persecuted brothers and sisters.

Those coordinating the days of prayer, such as Voice of the Martys, had suggested online that Christians wear a bit of orange on that day, as a memorial to the 21 Coptic Christians who were dressed in orange jumpsuits on that fatal but glorious day last February

when they were martyred in Libya by Muslim extremists.

Not one of the twenty-one had converted to Islam.

Not one had denied Christ.

And the one kidnapped who had not at first been a Christian, seeing the others' faith,

when asked if he would convert to Islam, replied,

"Their God is my God."

And he had given his life, there on the seashore, his blood running right with theirs,

on that videotaped scene that shocked the world.

I did not watch the video.

I do not care to purposely watch scenes of violence if I don't have to. 

But I did see two photos of those brave men--one of whom was engaged to be married.

He chose Christ over his fiance.

He chose Christ over his dreams and over his life.

And so many of us at church Sunday wore some kind of orange

in loving memory 

and supportive memorial to these precious martyrs and others like them. 

Our girls didn't have much in the way of orange clothing,

(it's not our favorite color)

so they wore orange hair bands.

I had one skirt with some orange in it, and I pinned on an orange bow,

one of those that Carrie had tied for any who would like to wear one.

Grandma and pa Lucas came with orange leaves pinned on. Others wore orange color in other ways.

It was the least we could do.

It seemed almost pathetic, us American Christians coming to church, wearing orange, showing a bit of support for our suffering brothers, the ones who are feeling the thorns and pricks of persecution.

But at the same time, I felt a sense of togetherness by doing this small act. 

It was a small way of going to some concerted effort to join a larger effort of prayer for our 

suffering brethren.

Whether we all suffer in the same way or not, we are all people of the cross, and we are in this together, just like the whole batch of calves who were waiting inside corrals and cattle chutes last week--waiting to be branded with the ranch brand.

Sam was asked to come help with guarding and herding, and the ranch owners permitted our whole family to come watch.

When we become Christians, we are marked forever as people belonging to God. 

We are not our own. We belong to Another.

Just as those calves had to go through some pain at the time of branding,

we have to experience the cross.

We have to take up our cross and carry it for the rest of our lives.

 I wasn't sure how I would handle watching the branding, but thankfully, it wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. 

The pain is only experienced for brief seconds, and then the spot is numb.

Our friend, Marlene, was helping with the branding irons and also vaccinating those big calves all at the same time while each one was put through the cattle chute and contained by the head gate.

Once the branding was done, the calves acted like nothing had happened. It was no big deal afterward--but they carried a permanent mark.

We learned that the top markings were the ranch markings,

the second number was the number of the calf birthed by the same mother,

or else it was the registration number, I can't remember for sure,

and the third number was the year it was born (I think.)

At least that was the way this ranch did it. Another rancher had a couple of his calves done, 

and he did it a different way.

 

 Sam helped herd the calves back into pasture once they were done, or helped capture one heifer that kept getting out of the head gate when it was her turn.

 

It was a unique experience, the ranchers and helpers working together, with a curious family biking or riding down to observe for the first time,

and it was all about calves being marked as belonging to a certain ranch.

 As Christians, we are marked people.

The men who beheaded those 21 Coptic Christians mocked them for being "people of the cross,"

but that mockery was turned upside down on its head. 

All around the world, Ann Voskamp wrote, other Christians brushed ashes on their foreheads in the shape of a cross,

a symbolic gesture saying they were not ashamed to be called people of the cross.

Jonathan and I had collected various prayer requests for different people or parts of the world

from sources such as the Good Samaritan newsletter, the Evangelistic Faith Mission newsletter,

and online.

The small children passed out individual requests, which the recipients would take turns reading,

and then that person would call on another person to pray for that specific request.

I really enjoy these times of prayer.

It is not easy to leave our comfort zones and listen to stories of beheadings and a teenager burned alive and churches being bombed, and such, but we get past those details and pray for the families left behind, those wounded, and the persecutors.

Christ would want us to pray for the killers and persecutors, hard as that may be.

Because that is what Christianity is all about--loving even our enemies. 

That is what being people of the cross is about--denying ourselves and taking up our cross,

whether in something as simple as wearing orange and listening to gory prayer requests
when we'd rather not hear such things,
 and then praying over them,
or actually being the martyr or the sorrowing family.

So it was a really different Sunday, and one in which our family was very busy.

For morning service, our little Hannah sang the special with me accompanying her on the autoharp, a spiritual we heard the SMS men's chorus sing on CD, "Count it all joy when you face trials and tests."

It's taken from James, and says, 

"Count it all joy, joy, joy, when you face trials and tests.

Count it all joy, joy, joy, for God knows the way that's best.

When temptation and trials come and you seem to lose your way,

Just remember the God Who loves you.

Count it joy, count it joy!"

Hannah did a great job! I wish someone would have remembered to take a picture.

Then after service, when a new family we'd invited to dinner didn't show up,

we had another couple for a picnic dinner up along Bear Creek again.

We had also, on the spur of the moment, invited another lady who has been attending our church, 

who asked if she could also invite her friend with whom she has been sharing the gospel.

We were delighted to include this precious, sweet young lady, and to take the two ladies for a walk along this interesting path we discovered last Sunday. 

Just another way of being "people of the cross," and sharing Christ through a picnic meal and fellowship.