Rabina, our house-help, a young Afghan woman, very faithful and regular, showed no interest in spiritual matters. When she had family problems, including an abusive mother-in-law, we helped her and her husband move into a separate flat. After 9/11, when we left this place, we lost contact with her. She and her family moved back to Afghanistan.

There go my neighbours on their daily walk. I always greet them when they pass by my house. Juan Manuel and Nena have lived in this neighbourhood for years. We are the newcomers, and our first greeting was the beginning of something we hadn’t imagined.

A shoemaker’s son, born in Steinbach, developed a dream for Bible translation. In April 1972, while Arden Thiessen was preaching at the Blumenort Community Church, this long-haired rebellious teenager rose to his feet and decided to follow Jesus.

As the principal of a Christian international school in Northern Thailand, I have the privilege of seeing firsthand how God uses education to transform lives. The stories may seem small, but they are powerful reminders that God is at work, often through the youngest among us.

Helping people come closer to Jesus is what I want to do; whether it is running in the Berlin Marathon (or any other marathon) or just conversing about running (shop-talk), I want my interactions with people to lead to spiritual questions.

At Alto Refugio, the first visit is much more than a formality; it is the moment when masks are allowed to fall. When a young man named Angel stepped through our door for the first time, he looked like someone carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. Our coworker Cinthia—petite and delicately built but blessed with an inner strength that leaves no room for doubt—welcomed him.

Peter was in a very restrictive colony and knew there was something better than following rules in the hope of perhaps making it to heaven. But the rules were a cage that kept his soul imprisoned and he wanted freedom in Jesus. He now works to bring understanding, surety of eternal salvation, and new life to many within hearing distance of the radio station, which he manages.

We, Reza and Bahar, are Afghan but were born and raised in Iran. Through a Farsi-speaking church, we immigrated from Iran to Turkey. There, we were discipled and began our ministry among the Afghan people in 2017, primarily through online outreach.

We find ourselves in very interesting conversations as a ministry in Winnipeg’s North End these days. Though our foundation is firmly placed on Jesus Christ, we are constantly pressured to compromise that foundation. If we did, all kinds of financial support would come our way, so I understand how many Christian ministries fall into the temptation.

We are all familiar with Paul’s metaphor in his letters of the church being a body, and it is common to talk about being the hands and feet of Jesus in the world. A number of years ago, we noticed one part that doesn’t usually get attention: the ligaments.

A mixed group of people from a Muslim community meet almost every day online to translate Jesus’ teachings in the Gospels into their mother tongue. One of them said passionately, “Jesus’ teachings are important for everyone; we need to make them accessible to all the people in the area, so that their communities can be changed by them.”

FOMO. I keep hearing that word, which stands for fear of missing out. It reminds me of another word loneliness. As Sheldon and I work in our member care role, people often tell us how lonely they are and how much they long for deeper friendships. I think FOMO and loneliness are pretty common. To be honest, I have struggled with them too.