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FORGIVING MY ENEMIES


Growing up in the Congo as a missionary kid, we were caught in the middle of the 1964 Communist rebellion. I was 8 years old at the time, and remember it well. When we received word that the rebels, (who were anti-white and anti-missionary) had burned out the bridge on one side of our mission station, we (about 25 missionaries and their families) had a very short time to pack a few things, and get out. We only had one Chevy Suburban kind of vehicle on the station for all of us. We took the seats out of the vehicle, and the women and kids left for the closest city that was 35 miles away, that would take 90 minutes to drive, because of bad road conditions. The men waited for another vehicle to come from that city to get them. We all made it out alive, even though we lost all our belongings - when the rebels came in; looted and burned our mission station. Still, we were very fortunate. Other missionaries had been tortured and killed in other mission stations near by. Even though I was young, I never had any feelings of hate for those who destroyed all our things, the place I was born, and the special place I called "home". If anything, I desired, and still do - that these rebels would come to faith in Jesus Christ, like I have.

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