A pastor detained in a deportation center discovers God’s presence and power while ministering to fellow detainees, bringing hope, encouragement, and miraculous outcomes to those without prospects.
Lord, I will also meditate on all your works, and speak of your mighty deeds. Psalms 77:12
I've never been a very good storyteller. Even though I enjoy reading and listening to exciting stories, I don't believe I have the gift of transmitting a good narrative; Maybe that's why I've been more dedicated to serving people through acts of service in my ministry, rather than through wonderful sermons.
However, in our spiritual journey, God involves us in situations that allow us to develop our character and mature our gifts through the power of his Holy Spirit. In my case, acts of service, quality time, and true friendship were not enough to reach certain people who needed to hear out loud the message God had for them.
Let me give you a little context: as a pastor, I had always felt called to cross-cultural ministry, but I was shackled by my worldview. God gave me an opportunity to work in the 10/40 window, but my limitations and fears kept me from speaking freely of the love of Jesus as I had in the early years of my ministry. Ellen White comments that what will be "most effectual in revealing Christ to the world will be the testimony of our own experience"(The Desire of Ages, p. 347). But I was not good at telling stories, not even my own. And that was that.
Everything changed, however, when I ended up in jail. Don't get me wrong; I'm not a criminal. It just so happens that one of the biggest difficulties workers face in the 10/40 window is dealing with residency documentation and visas. It's extremely frustrating, and 100% of the time we must completely depend on God to work out the permission to live in a certain territory. That being said, I had some pending issues related to my documentation, and I needed an exit document to pay a fine. Then I could return to my home country to settle my visa issue.
I waited almost 3 months for this exit document, to no avail. I went over and over again to the immigration office for help. Unfortunately, with no answers and no way to legalize my situation, a colleague and I were stopped by the immigration police. They mistakenly sent me to a police station with a cell for foreigners instead of to the immigration office, while my friend went free. This friend was a vital support during that time by mobilizing members in prayer, contacting the embassy right away, and reassuring my family of my safety.
As for me, once I entered the cell, I prayed for peace and asked the Lord to send me someone who spoke English so that I would not feel alone in jail. Most of those who were imprisoned spoke Arabic and few knew the local language. However, by God's grace, I found a few who knew English. One of them was Saleh*, a young man from a foreign country, and another was Mr. Kim*. Saleh helped translate into Arabic while I tried to communicate with others in the cell. Mr. Kim, on the other hand, sat quietly in a corner.
The cell, meant to hold about 25 people, was packed with around 60 men and 2 teenagers. Fed only bread and water, some had been there for over two weeks without news from their families or any contact with embassies or lawyers. Many didn’t have the resources to do so, as nearly all were refugees from nearby countries without visas or residency documentation.
At that moment my eyes were opened. In the Sabbath School lesson, I had recently read how the Lord does justice and does not forget the oppressed (Psalm 9:18). I was not oppressed; I was not a refugee. I was there by mistake. Supposedly. But there is no mistake when God is writing your story. I was there to preach God's love and give hope to each of these men.
So I started talking. The power of the Holy Spirit led the conversation in such a way that many asked questions about Jesus Christ and His second coming. Some asked for advice about family, business, and studies; others told stories of their past. For the first time, I understood that there were no acts of service required from me for these men; all I could do was listen or speak. So, for the first time, I spoke without fear of arrest, considering I was already in jail. Remarkably, being in jail at that moment was the most freeing experience I had ever felt.
As I shared my life, the health message, temperance, abstinence from alcohol and drugs, sexual purity, and even Sabbath observance, I noticed that Mr. Kim agreed with my principles and surprisingly shared the same values. At one point, as the other English-speaking young men left for the bathroom or conversed with others, I asked Mr. Kim to sit next to me. "Pastor, shall we pray?" I suggested. He was surprised and frightened that I knew he was a pastor. I told him the Holy Spirit reveals what is needed at crucial moments.
After we prayed, Mr. Kim told me that he had been in jail for four days, without contact with his wife, family, or church members, and without his medication for diabetes and hypertension. He cried a lot and felt hopeless. As mentioned earlier, God allows such experiences to shape our character and mature our faith (James 1:2-4). This was the moment Pastor Kim and I were sharing.
Later, we received word that we would be moved to another location. I discovered that these detention centers are commonly referred to as "Refugee Camps" but are actually deportation centers run by immigration offices. Handcuffed in the middle of the night, we were taken to such a camp, located far from the urban center. Before parting with Saleh and Pastor Kim, I prayed for the Lord to send His angels to watch over us inside. The police did not mistreat me, not even during the strip search. While other inmates faced violence and yelling from officers, the officers who dealt with me were respectful. You might call it luck, but I believe God granted me mercy.
That night, I was surprised to be put in a separate cell with inmates who spoke my native language. The inmates gave me food, clean water, clean sheets and bath towels. Truly, God's mercy encompassed me at that moment, and I slept peacefully, protected by those men.
The next day, I went to check on Saleh and Pastor Kim. They were sleeping in the hallway due to overcrowding. We sat together on a piece of mattress and listened to Saleh's story. The civil conflict in his land had claimed the lives of his entire family. Illegal in the country for two years, he had no documents to work or study and survived on informal jobs. In addition, repatriation was impossible due to the war. People like Saleh often remain in deportation centers for months or even years, with no prospects for the future.
I had already lost all my fear of talking about Jesus or praying in public. Nothing could be worse than being detained, so I embraced this newfound freedom. Since Saleh had been with me this whole time, he eventually realized this. I still remember how his eyes filled with tears as he told me, "It's so good to be around someone who is committed to God and prays."
Finally I received the news that I was going to be released. Saleh looked me deep in the eyes, with tears rolling down his cheeks, and told me, "I know that you are going to leave today, and I know that you serve Allah (God). But I know I'm going to be here for a long, long time." My throat tightened, and tears welled up in my eyes. What acts of service could I offer someone without hope? What good was my friendship to someone who might never see me again? What could I do to help this young man? What would you do?
"God can work miracles, Saleh," I began. "Believe me, He loves you very much and has not forgotten you." My words were all I had to offer, and sharing my hope was all that was within my power. That was God's message to Saleh, Pastor Kim, and many others there: "I have not forgotten you. I love you, and I want to perform miracles. Just trust me."
I had learned many lessons in jail, but God made sure to demonstrate His love and power once more through miracles: when I was called to be released, so was Pastor Kim. We signed the release documents together. I had been confident that God would not allow his servant to stay much longer without his medications and with a worried family, but I did not dream that we would leave together.
In addition, I finally received the document I had been waiting for so long. I had been praying for it for three months, and God had allowed the delay so that I could have this experience.
But the miracles didn’t end there: just after I signed and received my documents, I saw Saleh outside the cell, accompanied by a guard. I heard the officer talking to him and handing him a document granting him humanitarian refugee status, a temporary visa, and indefinite residency. With these documents, Saleh was assured he would not be deported and could finally study, work formally, and lead a dignified life.
Today as you read these words, remember: God has not forgotten the oppressed. Like Pastor Kim who needed to have his faith matured, or young Saleh who needed a miracle, or like me who needed courage and power from heaven to share my story and testimony, God hasn't forgotten your story either.
'For I know the plans I have for you, saith the Lord; plans of peace, not evil, to give you a future and hope. Then you will cry out to me, and you will pray, and I will hear you. You will seek me, and you will find me, when you seek me with all your heart.' Jeremiah 29:11-13
*Names have been changed