The most frightening time !
When entering the village where we worked, we had to walk carefully to avoid stepping on the children's excrement scattered in the muddy furrows.
On rainy days, the water would collect in nooks and crannies, forming small muddy lakes since it had no place to go.
We tried to improve the environment by creating small ditches to drain the water and leveling the paths.
Many people in the village spoke their language but were illiterate, and many children couldn’t go to school and had to work at home. So, we started a small school under a big tree, calling it "Rest Day When It Rains." We, as novice missionaries, eagerly followed the dedicated missionary couple who were helping them and learned a lot.
One day, my husband called me to ask for help as he had to serve a meal along with a seminar for the pastors. I flew to go the city for 3hours where he stays.
And worked hard the next morning, shopping at the market and cooking delicious food with the help of a local woman.
Preparing local dishes wasn’t easy, but I enjoyed learning new recipes.
We served a delicious meal and ended the seminar with sweet and tasty chai and desserts, leaving everyone happy. Some leaders were still in the living room, so I quietly opened the door to bring them some water…
Suddenly, a local pastor made a swear word in Korean.
Only two Koreans and I who hiding behind the door, understood what he said.
The local pastors with him looked on curiously.
I stood behind the door, holding the doorknob, trembling all over.
My whole body felt as cold as ice, and my heart was pounding loudly enough to hear in my ears.
The pastor and my husband were both frozen, staring at the man for a long time.
The few local pastors behind us had no idea what was going on.
The gist of his message was that he was going to sue us.
Unable to do anything, I stood there trembling, unable to serve the water.
I heard the man and the local pastors leave.
Realizing the seriousness of the situation, I decided to stay.
The leader missionary hurriedly went to the big city to investigate, leaving my husband and me to take care of the church and the situation.
The next morning, my husband said he couldn't just sit around and went out to check on the church situation.
But he didn’t return all day.
Alone at home, I spent the whole day anxiously waiting.
As evening came, I felt so helpless in my inability to do anything.
Unable to leave the house alone, I wandered around the house, praying loudly, trying to suppress my fears.
The only one I could turn to was God.
If only we had the internet back then… how wonderful it would have been.
If only we had an MP3 player to listen to hymns… how comforting that would have been.
I held my belly with both hands, praying and crying out loud, trying to keep the baby inside me from being startled.
Would I have to spend the night alone in this empty house?
Where was my husband?
Could that person who threatened us have harmed him?
I inwardly blamed my husband for his habit of talking to everyone he met on the street in broken Urdu and sometimes even going to their house for chai, thinking he wasn’t being cautious enough.
As I tried to shake off all my anxious thoughts, suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Rushing out, I found my husband there, smiling brightly in the darkness of the hallway.
My heart had been in my throat all day…
"Why are you so late?" I talk to him in anxious voice.
"Oh, it was tough! On my way back from checking the church, the police suddenly arrested me and took me to the station. They kept saying something, but I couldn’t understand a word, so I just kept smiling. Since neither English nor Urdu worked, they seemed frustrated and tried to keep talking, but eventually, they let me go. I’m sorry I couldn’t contact you and made you worry."
My husband couldn’t communicate with the police due to the language barrier.
Although he tried English, they couldn’t understand him, so they eventually released him after a day of questioning.
It turned out that not speaking the language helped in this case, but it wasn’t a reassuring situation.
We didn’t know why the police were doing this to us.
We couldn’t understand why the local pastor was harassing the dedicated missionary who was building schools and churches and helping the local people.
Nobody explained the situation to us, but since the police were involved, we couldn’t move freely.
A few days later, the leader returned home.
The next day, as if they had been waiting, the police came with a house arrest notice.
Peeking through the curtained window, I saw police cars surrounding the house.
Suddenly, without knowing the exact reason, we were confined inside the house.
House Arrest!