I am writing shortly after the news arrived about the death of Tom Little and nine others on a medical mission in Afghanistan. I knew Tom personally for years.

As a professional optometrist, Tom could have lived a gentle life in a safe, comfortable community. He didn’t. Instead, he and his wife chose to serve in a country perpetually at war. They did it because of Jesus.

When I was flying home after serving in the Middle East, I had a unique experience. I felt as if God’s Spirit was speaking to my heart about my own country. This kind of communication does not happen often to me, but it did that day. The words, spoken with authority and love and directness, said simply: “Your country is selfish. It is obsessed with its own security and wealth.”

That’s it. Nothing more followed.

For years, I have wondered about those words. What did God mean by telling me such a thing? To warn me to be careful about safety and comfort and money-making? To suggest that maybe these things could totally deceive a soul? Perhaps.

One thing I do know is this — the cure to selfishness is serving. There is nothing like an old-fashioned, self-denying, pouring-out-your-life kind of giving. During their last week, Tom and the others trudged it out on horseback through deep snow drifts high in the mountains as they sought out remote villages. When they finally reached their destination, word quickly spread and, soon, hundreds came to receive medical care.

On the trip back, Tom said that everyone was exhausted. But it was a good exhaustion, the kind that comes when you know you have served God with your whole heart.

Not many of us have a friend who becomes a martyr. As soon as I heard the news about Tom it sobered me up. It put things in perspective. I stopped fretting over what colour to paint my balcony — it just did not seem that important anymore. It also created within me a desire to serve like Tom did —pouring out one’s life, knowing that it gives the greater satisfaction.

You may be asking, “Why should I go? Why should I leave a life of comfort and safety? Why should I leave an efficient, safe community with fine hospitals, schools and stores?”

Just ask Tom. In Afghanistan he was known to many everywhere simply as “Doctor Tom” — he served so much, teaching Afghans what a true Christian can be like.

Perhaps someone reading this will feel called to go and serve. You may end up giving away thirty years of your life and then die just as Tom did. If so, do not fear such a calling. I remember talking with Tom about the dangers. In reply, he told me of the time when God miraculously protected him from a bullet. He spoke nonchalantly and without fear, as if talking about the weather. He spoke like that because he knew: when we serve God with our whole hearts, our lives and our deaths are in God’s hands.

Just what do you want to live your life for anyway?

Taking part in God’s mission has always seemed to me to the most exciting adventure that there is – so when I was asked to write an article on the sacrifices we’ve made I initially missed the point. What sacrifices? Have we missed out on much that’s worthwhile? Any losses we’ve experienced have been massively compensated for by the joy of adventuring with God and seeing His Kingdom coming.

My adventure started the first time I read through the Bible as a new Christian teenager. I remember resonating with Paul’s desire: “It has always been my ambition to preach the gospel where Christ was not known, so that I would not be building on someone else’s foundation” then “those who were not told about him will see and those who have not heard will understand.” (Ro 15:20-21). And when it came to choose a country in which to serve, I deliberately chose the place that was the poorest and the most overtly hostile to the gospel: home to the world’s most wanted terrorist, reeling from civil war, site of attacks on US facilities and the place where nuns had been shot in the street – killed just for being Christians. Shortly before our first visit two colleagues narrowly escaped a bomb planted just outside their flat. They got up from breakfast and minutes later their kitchen wall was blown in.

Why go to such a place?

Paul would say… “How can they believe in the One of whom they have not heard?” “Christ’s love compels us.” “It has always been my ambition…”. For me, to disobey His leading in my life seemed less safe than walking in His protection. I set off (with my wife and one-year-old) as soon as I was qualified.

The strange thing about living in chaos is that you get used to it. Three months after we arrived, three missionaries were gunned down in the hospital that we’d been planning to work in the following week. Six months in, the war in Iraq started and foreigners in our country were advised to leave. Over the years there co-workers were kidnapped – some released, others not. Neighbours died in bizarre circumstances – the value of life seemed so low to the locals. Embassies sent out warnings of terrorist plots – “wars and rumours of wars”. We felt threatened occasionally, but had an enduring sense of peace.

In time, we moved from the relative ‘ease’ of the capital to a city of 400,000 with virtually no witness. We had a real sense of calling and were completely open about our faith. I shared the message of God’s love as much as I could. I prayed for the sick, went to the homes of Islamic missionaries and invited seekers into my home.

Some were fascinated. Nicodemus-esque, a local lawyer came to my home several times by night. He was one of the first to come to Christ and introduced me to several other young men that wanted to hear about God’s love. The last time I saw him he had led his family to the Lord and had a house church of about twenty individuals.

In the meantime, other neighbours complained to the Secret Police. Soon the Minister of Health and the Deputy Prime Minister were informed of our ‘activities’. They didn’t accuse us of breaking the law but told us it would be unsafe for us to stay there because we’d aroused local emotions. They said the Islamists would take matters into their own hands if the government wasn’t seen to act so they ordered us out of town.

Up until that point we had not felt threatened but that changed at 4am one morning, when an explosive device was thrown over our wall. I was shaken awake by two loud bangs and rushed into my children’s bedrooms to make sure they were still intact. My first thought was about the couple whose kitchen wall had been blown in 8 years ago. Thank God, the children (and the house) were fine. The devices were improvised bangers: all bark and no bite, designed to terror-ise.

Even then, I didn’t want to go. I wrestled with God about staying but instead He led me to the book of Acts where Paul repeatedly got kicked out of every town he went to. He’d move on – and God would use him in each new place. I complied. We packed up and relocated to the capital. And I’d still be there now if they’d let me stay. We lingered for 3 more months trying to get permission to start another project, but the government made it quite clear that we had to go.

I’m not a hero. Romans 15:20 isn’t everyone’s calling, but it is mine. God has used me to help start three house-churches but the main adventure that God has taken me on has been personal. Mission has been His tool to craft intimacy, dependence, faith, joy and excitement into me. To me these far outweigh anything I’ve sacrificed. The beatitudes are true: we really are blessed (“happy”) when we imitate Jesus, no matter what the sacrifice!

I am writing shortly after the news arrived about the death of Tom Little and nine others on a medical mission in Afghanistan. I knew Tom personally for years.

As a professional optometrist, Tom could have lived a gentle life in a safe, comfortable community. He didn’t. Instead, he and his wife chose to serve in a country perpetually at war. They did it because of Jesus.

When I was flying home after serving in the Middle East, I had a unique experience. I felt as if God’s Spirit was speaking to my heart about my own country. This kind of communication does not happen often to me, but it did that day. The words, spoken with authority and love and directness, said simply: “Your country is selfish. It is obsessed with its own security and wealth.”

That’s it. Nothing more followed.

For years, I have wondered about those words. What did God mean by telling me such a thing? To warn me to be careful about safety and comfort and money-making? To suggest that maybe these things could totally deceive a soul? Perhaps.

One thing I do know is this — the cure to selfishness is serving. There is nothing like an old-fashioned, self-denying, pouring-out-your-life kind of giving. During their last week, Tom and the others trudged it out on horseback through deep snow drifts high in the mountains as they sought out remote villages. When they finally reached their destination, word quickly spread and, soon, hundreds came to receive medical care.

On the trip back, Tom said that everyone was exhausted. But it was a good exhaustion, the kind that comes when you know you have served God with your whole heart.

Not many of us have a friend who becomes a martyr. As soon as I heard the news about Tom it sobered me up. It put things in perspective. I stopped fretting over what colour to paint my balcony — it just did not seem that important anymore. It also created within me a desire to serve like Tom did —pouring out one’s life, knowing that it gives the greater satisfaction.

You may be asking, “Why should I go? Why should I leave a life of comfort and safety? Why should I leave an efficient, safe community with fine hospitals, schools and stores?”

Just ask Tom. In Afghanistan he was known to many everywhere simply as “Doctor Tom” — he served so much, teaching Afghans what a true Christian can be like.

Perhaps someone reading this will feel called to go and serve. You may end up giving away thirty years of your life and then die just as Tom did. If so, do not fear such a calling. I remember talking with Tom about the dangers. In reply, he told me of the time when God miraculously protected him from a bullet. He spoke nonchalantly and without fear, as if talking about the weather. He spoke like that because he knew: when we serve God with our whole hearts, our lives and our deaths are in God’s hands.

Just what do you want to live your life for anyway?

We have been working in Central Asia for eight years, in a Muslimmajority country overwhelmed by major economic and political crises. In our time here, one of our biggest encouragements has been witnessing a national believer’s dream – that of broadcasting Christian television in the local language – grow from a vision into reality.

After Aibek* watched his mother struggling to understand a Russian language Christian TV programme, he realised that the great majority of his people had no access to the Gospel in their own heart language. And God gave him a vision for using television to reach people for Christ. However, when Aibek shared it with Christian leaders in the city, many of them told him that while it was a good vision, it would never happen: no one could or would help, and most actively discouraged him. But when Aibek shared the vision with us, God put it on our hearts to not only affirm and encourage him, but to work alongside him in bringing it to pass.

That was almost seven years ago. And although it has not been an easy road for Aibek, he stuck to the dream God gave him and now heads up a television studio which produces local Christian programming. These programmes are broadcast twice a week in several strongly Muslim regions in our country; it costs about $200 USD to air each slot, which is covered mainly by donations from local, indigenous churches. Each programme is based around a theme (e.g. forgiveness, family, testimonies of changed lives, alcoholism and other social issues), and contains a mix of teaching, testimony and music.

The vision of the studio is to eventually broadcast all over our country. This seems a long way off at the moment, but we have seen our Father open doors that we never thought would open. The fact that the programmes are being transmitted to some of the more remote, strongly Muslim areas shows that our Father’s hand is on the project. He is using this ministry to touch people who otherwise would never have the opportunity to hear the Gospel, and to bring hope and life to places where there is so little hope and so little to live for.

That Aibek is able to continue broadcasting with current restrictive religious laws is a testimony in itself. The director of the TV channel in one of the regions was strongly pressured to stop, but he told the Muslim community and officials that the programmes were good, and he would continue to show them as long as the studio continued to pay!

Television is particularly effective in reaching remote villages. Recently we received a letter from a mountain village in the south. These people have little contact outside of their village but do have television! Six of them had become believers through watching our shows: they have never met any other believers, and have no Bibles, but they meet with each other to share, and pray to the Father who has given them hope.

There are many stories like this, told through letters and phone calls, from people whose lives have been changed and transformed through the programmes. They include high ranking officials who contact usin secret, wanting to learn more but fearful for their positions, and even for their lives and families if they were to openly ask.

So even though we have encountered a lot of very vocal and vigorous opposition, we continue to be encouraged by the testimonies we receive, telling us of God’s salvation, changed lives, restored families, and how God’s word, through television, is bringing hope in the hard places.

* Not his real name

About eight years ago, I noticed my mother watching a Christian programme on television. It was in Russian, my mother’s second language.

When I asked how much she understood, she admitted, “only about 30%.” And I realised that this was what it was like for most people across our nation: they hear but do not understand, as they don’t have any opportunity to listen to the Gospel in their own language.

That is when God impressed on me the great need for Christian programming in our national language. Initially, however, I received very little support for this vision, and it took some years of fervent prayer before God started opening doors. But I never doubted that God was in this, and He put people beside me to encourage and support me when I really needed it.

The breakthrough came in 2004, when I was given the opportunity to attend a Christian summer school for training in TV and video production. On completion of my training I was given responsibility for producing and directing a 30-episode Christian television drama: this project marked the start of our studio.

Our country is one of the poorest in the world, and our government, police force, and education and health care systems are riddled by corruption. Our people are bombarded with lies and deception from every direction, and, in desperation, many of them start to seek help from God.

But if they never hear the truth about God they will believe whatever was taught to them in the past, mainly Islam mixed with elements of Shamanism.

Christian television is such an effective way to teach our people the truth about God. They are able to watch in the privacy of their own home, and make the decision to receive Christ without the often negative influence of their extended family and community.

But there is a price to be paid for those who acknowledge their new faith publicly: they are viewed as traitors to their own culture, and are despised, ostracised, and often physically attacked. Persecution comes mostly from their relatives and close friends.

One young man, for example, was thrown out of his home after he became a believer. His father told him that he could only return home if he renounced Jesus, and studied the Koran. This young man refused; he said he could not throw away something that he knew to be true.

As followers of Christ in this country we strongly believe that God will send revival to our land and so, with God’s help, we are trying to do whatever is possible. We are praying that one day we will have our own TV channel, as we believe that God can and wants to use television to reach the people of this nation and influence them for His kingdom.

We have been working in Central Asia for eight years, in a Muslimmajority country overwhelmed by major economic and political crises. In our time here, one of our biggest encouragements has been witnessing a national believer’s dream – that of broadcasting Christian television in the local language – grow from a vision into reality.

After Aibek* watched his mother struggling to understand a Russian language Christian TV programme, he realised that the great majority of his people had no access to the Gospel in their own heart language. And God gave him a vision for using television to reach people for Christ. However, when Aibek shared it with Christian leaders in the city, many of them told him that while it was a good vision, it would never happen: no one could or would help, and most actively discouraged him. But when Aibek shared the vision with us, God put it on our hearts to not only affirm and encourage him, but to work alongside him in bringing it to pass.

That was almost seven years ago. And although it has not been an easy road for Aibek, he stuck to the dream God gave him and now heads up a television studio which produces local Christian programming. These programmes are broadcast twice a week in several strongly Muslim regions in our country; it costs about $200 USD to air each slot, which is covered mainly by donations from local, indigenous churches. Each programme is based around a theme (e.g. forgiveness, family, testimonies of changed lives, alcoholism and other social issues), and contains a mix of teaching, testimony and music.

The vision of the studio is to eventually broadcast all over our country. This seems a long way off at the moment, but we have seen our Father open doors that we never thought would open. The fact that the programmes are being transmitted to some of the more remote, strongly Muslim areas shows that our Father’s hand is on the project. He is using this ministry to touch people who otherwise would never have the opportunity to hear the Gospel, and to bring hope and life to places where there is so little hope and so little to live for.

That Aibek is able to continue broadcasting with current restrictive religious laws is a testimony in itself. The director of the TV channel in one of the regions was strongly pressured to stop, but he told the Muslim community and officials that the programmes were good, and he would continue to show them as long as the studio continued to pay!

Television is particularly effective in reaching remote villages. Recently we received a letter from a mountain village in the south. These people have little contact outside of their village but do have television! Six of them had become believers through watching our shows: they have never met any other believers, and have no Bibles, but they meet with each other to share, and pray to the Father who has given them hope.

There are many stories like this, told through letters and phone calls, from people whose lives have been changed and transformed through the programmes. They include high ranking officials who contact usin secret, wanting to learn more but fearful for their positions, and even for their lives and families if they were to openly ask.

So even though we have encountered a lot of very vocal and vigorous opposition, we continue to be encouraged by the testimonies we receive, telling us of God’s salvation, changed lives, restored families, and how God’s word, through television, is bringing hope in the hard places.

* Not his real name

About eight years ago, I noticed my mother watching a Christian programme on television. It was in Russian, my mother’s second language.

When I asked how much she understood, she admitted, “only about 30%.” And I realised that this was what it was like for most people across our nation: they hear but do not understand, as they don’t have any opportunity to listen to the Gospel in their own language.

That is when God impressed on me the great need for Christian programming in our national language. Initially, however, I received very little support for this vision, and it took some years of fervent prayer before God started opening doors. But I never doubted that God was in this, and He put people beside me to encourage and support me when I really needed it.

The breakthrough came in 2004, when I was given the opportunity to attend a Christian summer school for training in TV and video production. On completion of my training I was given responsibility for producing and directing a 30-episode Christian television drama: this project marked the start of our studio.

Our country is one of the poorest in the world, and our government, police force, and education and health care systems are riddled by corruption. Our people are bombarded with lies and deception from every direction, and, in desperation, many of them start to seek help from God.

But if they never hear the truth about God they will believe whatever was taught to them in the past, mainly Islam mixed with elements of Shamanism.

Christian television is such an effective way to teach our people the truth about God. They are able to watch in the privacy of their own home, and make the decision to receive Christ without the often negative influence of their extended family and community.

But there is a price to be paid for those who acknowledge their new faith publicly: they are viewed as traitors to their own culture, and are despised, ostracised, and often physically attacked. Persecution comes mostly from their relatives and close friends.

One young man, for example, was thrown out of his home after he became a believer. His father told him that he could only return home if he renounced Jesus, and studied the Koran. This young man refused; he said he could not throw away something that he knew to be true.

As followers of Christ in this country we strongly believe that God will send revival to our land and so, with God’s help, we are trying to do whatever is possible. We are praying that one day we will have our own TV channel, as we believe that God can and wants to use television to reach the people of this nation and influence them for His kingdom.

In many of the poorer houses here the walls don’t always reach up to the roof which is shared by several houses. There is often a gap through which sound travels from next door. Or through which, if you stood on something tall – say, a table – you could look.

I was visiting Wendy when I met Amanda in this way. She squeezed up against the top of the wall to peer over at me. I could only see a slice of her face: an eye, part of a smile, a flash of the orange scarf tied around her hair. She greeted me and chatted for a few minutes before disappearing again behind the wall.

In a scandalised whisper, Wendy told me Amanda’s story. Unmarried, she had had a relationship with a local man and become pregnant. Her parents kept her hidden at home ever since. When the baby was born Amanda’s mother strangled him because he was illegitimate and a shame to their family. Amanda is still imprisoned in the house; she has never been out since.

“Do you visit her, Wendy?” I asked. “No, my husband won’t allow it.” “Does anybody visit her? Does she have any friends?” “No, nobody visits her because of what she did.”

We sat in silence for a bit as I chewed over the information. I was horrified that Amanda’s mother – a woman who had once held her own babies in her arms and loved and nurtured them – could have killed her own grandson. I wanted to cry for that little boy that never got to live. And I thought about Amanda, lonely and isolated, forever living out the consequences of her sin. And then I thought about the community. Steering clear. Staying away. Lest they be contaminated by her sin, or incriminated by association; tainted. Neither her family nor her neighbours will forgive Amanda for what she has done. And while her family will deny what has happened, others like Wendy will continue to repeat it in hushed tones. It will be revisited often, as a warning to the young women of the neighbourhood, against the follies of romantic involvement or of doing anything else which might bring shame on their families.

Yet I know that there is forgiveness available for Amanda. There is One who has already redeemed her and who is waiting to take possession of His prize. One who sees that she is precious, though at fault; beautiful though broken.

So this morning, as I write this, I am asking myself again “what would Jesus do?”. And the problem is that I know the answer. I’m just not sure I’m ready to act on it. In a culture where reputation is everything, am I willing to throw mine down, to bring Jesus to this woman? And while the questions crowd in, “what would the neighbours think?” and “would they still want to know me?” or perhaps seemingly more important, “what will it do to my witness?”, I know that these thoughts are foolishness. The truth is that this is incarnational living. The demonstration of God’s forgiveness. The extension of His grace to all. And if it ruffles a few feathers in the neighbourhood, so be it. As John said, “He must become greater; I must become less.”(Jn.3:30) After all, His reputation is my concern; my own is not.

In many of the poorer houses here the walls don’t always reach up to the roof which is shared by several houses. There is often a gap through which sound travels from next door. Or through which, if you stood on something tall – say, a table – you could look.

I was visiting Wendy when I met Amanda in this way. She squeezed up against the top of the wall to peer over at me. I could only see a slice of her face: an eye, part of a smile, a flash of the orange scarf tied around her hair. She greeted me and chatted for a few minutes before disappearing again behind the wall.

In a scandalised whisper, Wendy told me Amanda’s story. Unmarried, she had had a relationship with a local man and become pregnant. Her parents kept her hidden at home ever since. When the baby was born Amanda’s mother strangled him because he was illegitimate and a shame to their family. Amanda is still imprisoned in the house; she has never been out since.

“Do you visit her, Wendy?” I asked. “No, my husband won’t allow it.” “Does anybody visit her? Does she have any friends?” “No, nobody visits her because of what she did.”

We sat in silence for a bit as I chewed over the information. I was horrified that Amanda’s mother – a woman who had once held her own babies in her arms and loved and nurtured them – could have killed her own grandson. I wanted to cry for that little boy that never got to live. And I thought about Amanda, lonely and isolated, forever living out the consequences of her sin. And then I thought about the community. Steering clear. Staying away. Lest they be contaminated by her sin, or incriminated by association; tainted. Neither her family nor her neighbours will forgive Amanda for what she has done. And while her family will deny what has happened, others like Wendy will continue to repeat it in hushed tones. It will be revisited often, as a warning to the young women of the neighbourhood, against the follies of romantic involvement or of doing anything else which might bring shame on their families.

Yet I know that there is forgiveness available for Amanda. There is One who has already redeemed her and who is waiting to take possession of His prize. One who sees that she is precious, though at fault; beautiful though broken.

So this morning, as I write this, I am asking myself again “what would Jesus do?”. And the problem is that I know the answer. I’m just not sure I’m ready to act on it. In a culture where reputation is everything, am I willing to throw mine down, to bring Jesus to this woman? And while the questions crowd in, “what would the neighbours think?” and “would they still want to know me?” or perhaps seemingly more important, “what will it do to my witness?”, I know that these thoughts are foolishness. The truth is that this is incarnational living. The demonstration of God’s forgiveness. The extension of His grace to all. And if it ruffles a few feathers in the neighbourhood, so be it. As John said, “He must become greater; I must become less.”(Jn.3:30) After all, His reputation is my concern; my own is not.

Getting there had its surprises and challenges, such as being escorted off our flight in Dubai by two Emirati policemen, but our recent short-term mission trip to a Muslim-majority North African country was very successful.

We had been invited back (after a similar outreach last year) to teach conversational English at a university in the country’s secondlargest city. Three of the team made it into the country without any problems, but when Mitch and I tried to fly out of Dubai, after being assured by the university that our visas were waiting, we hit a snag. The airline wanted to ensure that our visas were in order, so we confidently gave them the university’s contact details, then talked our way onto the plane. And were promptly escorted off again when it was discovered the visas hadn’t yet been issued.

On our first evening there, we went for a walk after dinner through the vegetable market. Grace was enthusiastically taking photos when three policemen demanded her camera. When we refused, we were taken to the police station for questioning. We called the university who contacted the vice-chancellor who rang the Chief of Police, who then released us. Surprisingly, the incident had a positive outcome, as it raised our profile in the community, and we received cheery waves from the police wherever we went.

Over 70 took part in the course we taught, including the faculty from several universities and Masterslevel students. The course, called ‘Understanding, coping with, and implementing change’, was highly participative, and included stories from the Bible, connecting them with the concept of change. The team members established links with their students outside of class, visiting them in their homes or going out on trips or sharing meals with them.

These were opportunities for deeper sharing, talking about personal and spiritual issues. We prayed for some of our students at different times and the scriptures were shared.

In my speech at the closing ceremony, in the presence of the Vice Chancellor and the Dean, I told the students, “Over the past week and a half, we’ve heard stories of change in the lives of the prophets: Adam and Eve, Noah, Joseph, David, and Jesus. What was common in all these stories was the power and grace of God. These are not just historical stories of people who lived long ago – they are just as true for us today because God is alive and working today. It is true that as Christians and Muslims we will understand God’s work differently, but we can also declare that we all seek to serve and worship God as we best understand Him.”

There was a real sense of spiritual openness amongst the people, and it seems that widespread Sufism has softened some of the hard edge of the way Islam is practised. Our prayer is that God will continue to open up doors and hearts in this country.