Window to the World

I don’t know when I started collecting them…well, collecting isn’t the right word. Gathering? Purchasing? All I know is that I love clocks. Not unique clocks, per se, just clocks. Little ones, medium sized ones, different colored ones. Clocks that I place and move all over my apartment. For some reason, I like to know what time it is in any room that I’m in. At any given moment. Even though I wear a watch and my phone is not far from me, I still find myself looking for a clock to see the time.

I discovered “Help the Persecuted" earlier this year. Their ministry focuses on bringing the gospel of Jesus to Islamic countries via field ministers from those very countries. It’s not sending in Americans. It’s Syrians ministering to Syrians, Lebanese ministering to Lebanese, etc. But it doesn’t stop with offering salvation because once a Muslim gives their life to Christ, persecution begins. Every week I get an email with lists of people to pray for. People who lose their jobs, are rejected, thrown out by their spouse, their children, their entire family and community. Many lose their home, their children, their health. They endure physical beatings and death threats. And, according to HTP, every 2 hours a Christian is killed. All because they chose to put their faith in Jesus.

But HTP doesn’t just lead them to Christ and then send them on their way. They provide financial support, safe housing, trauma care, medical assistance, education, and help with employment. I had a phone call with one of the HTP staff last week and asked all my questions. The most important being, do these individuals realize what their life will be like if they choose Jesus? And the answer was a resounding “yes!” They know. And yet they choose Christ anyways. 

I can’t even imagine what that is like. Making a decision, a choice knowing that my life may very well become a ticking time bomb. But holding onto Jesus anyways. Honestly, I can’t wrap my mind around that. The closest I’ve ever come to persecution - and really I can’t even call it that, it’s ridiculous - is being around someone of a different political party. I hear their words of disgust and hate and I shut down for fear that if I say anything I will be verbally annihilated and possibly shut out of the friendship.

Eva and I pray every week for those on the prayer list that comes in my weekly email. We also pray for people who are persecuted for their faith of another kind. This ministry is called “Christians Against all Persecution.” It’s a “Good Samaritan” ministry. A group of pastors, churches and believers praying and advocating for all who face persecution because of their religion or belief.

I also have found my heart pulled towards Samaritan’s Purse. I get their monthly email, providing me with information and updates on their ministry to places experiencing trauma around the world.

Which brings me to my clocks. A couple of weeks ago I felt compelled to find out what time it was in these countries as I was praying. I went on Amazon to find one of those time zone multiple clock display thingys when all of a sudden it hit me. I have clocks!!! So I gathered my clocks - 6 to be exact - and began to look up the time zones for the countries for which I’m praying. I set each clock to those different time zones and then placed small cards with the names of the countries within these time zones by its clock, combining some. Here’s what I found:

Algeria, Nigeria and Morocco - 6 hours ahead

Jordan, Egypt, Lebanon, Syria, Iraq and Eritrea - 8 hours ahead

China - 18 hours ahead; 

Venezuela and Cuba - 1 hour ahead

Pakistan and India - 10½ hours ahead

Vietnam - 12 hours ahead

Iran - 8½ hours ahead

Afghanistan - 9½ hours ahead

I placed these clocks on my kitchen window sill. Now, every day, throughout my day, when I’m at my sink I see my clocks and I pray. For their mornings, their afternoons, their evenings. For provision, sustenance, medical attention, a safe house. For God’s mercies to be new every morning, his presence to be felt unmistakably every afternoon, and for his peace and rest every night.

I’ve recently added a name, an individual that I’ve never met but know about. A young man who desperately needs God to intervene in his life, to break the power of his addictions. I added him to my window. It just seemed appropriate that he join with the others who are fighting for their lives. I imagine in time, my entire window frame will be covered. With more clocks, more names, more hope for the hopeless. So I appropriately call my kitchen sink window my “Window to the World.”