This Road
Chapter 3
USSR, 1952
1 Grant the unbroken
Tears ever flowing
From hearts of contrition
Only for You
I bite my lip, trying not to scream. The soldier drives the awl farther into my arm and I bite back another sob. "Tell us who the other church leaders are, and we'll let you go. All we need is a little information. If you turn in ten church members, you'll be free." I shake my head fiercely, knowing what will happen to them if I break. I should know – that is how I came to be here.
"You outlive your usefulness," he threatens. Already they have ripped out several of my fingernails and broken my thumbs. I know what else they'll do to me before I die, but it doesn't matter. I'll be with Christ then, in eternal joy.
Disgusted, he marches me back to my cell. I sit on the cold floor, avoiding the filthiest areas and the rat hole. A few days more at most, and then they'll execute me. I know it is coming, because they no longer really hope that I will tell them anything and I'm not valuable enough alive. I am not a prominent figure, and there is no one in the West who knows of me and is interceding on my behalf. There are only the prayers of the saints of my church, and they have many others for whom to pray. The government has been cracking down on the churches in my area.
I hear footsteps in the hall and wearily lift my head. Somehow, I know they're coming for me. Lord, forgive them. Please, I pray that these guards would come to know You. One already has, and he was promptly shot by his best friend. I saw it happen. The door opens, and to guards drag me to my feet. "Your time is up. Deny your God and give us the names of members of your church, or you will be shot."
I smile at him. "The Lord Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and He died for your sins. Believe and be saved!"
He sneers, "Let us see if He saves you."
When we exit to the firing range, another prisoner is there. "I am Nikolai," he says. "This does not sound nice, but I am glad you are here to die with me. Although I know we shall be with Christ, I am rather afraid of dying."
I respond, "I am glad that you are here as well. And remember what our Lord said to the thief: 'Today you shall be with me in paradise.'"
He smiles at me, the sweetest, saddest smile I've ever seen, but there is joy in his eyes. I look at the soldier, pointing his rifle at my face, smile, and tell him, "I forgive you," as he pulls the trigger.
Chapter 3
USSR, 1952
1 Grant the unbroken
Tears ever flowing
From hearts of contrition
Only for You
I bite my lip, trying not to scream. The soldier drives the awl farther into my arm and I bite back another sob. "Tell us who the other church leaders are, and we'll let you go. All we need is a little information. If you turn in ten church members, you'll be free." I shake my head fiercely, knowing what will happen to them if I break. I should know – that is how I came to be here.
"You outlive your usefulness," he threatens. Already they have ripped out several of my fingernails and broken my thumbs. I know what else they'll do to me before I die, but it doesn't matter. I'll be with Christ then, in eternal joy.
Disgusted, he marches me back to my cell. I sit on the cold floor, avoiding the filthiest areas and the rat hole. A few days more at most, and then they'll execute me. I know it is coming, because they no longer really hope that I will tell them anything and I'm not valuable enough alive. I am not a prominent figure, and there is no one in the West who knows of me and is interceding on my behalf. There are only the prayers of the saints of my church, and they have many others for whom to pray. The government has been cracking down on the churches in my area.
I hear footsteps in the hall and wearily lift my head. Somehow, I know they're coming for me. Lord, forgive them. Please, I pray that these guards would come to know You. One already has, and he was promptly shot by his best friend. I saw it happen. The door opens, and to guards drag me to my feet. "Your time is up. Deny your God and give us the names of members of your church, or you will be shot."
I smile at him. "The Lord Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and He died for your sins. Believe and be saved!"
He sneers, "Let us see if He saves you."
When we exit to the firing range, another prisoner is there. "I am Nikolai," he says. "This does not sound nice, but I am glad you are here to die with me. Although I know we shall be with Christ, I am rather afraid of dying."
I respond, "I am glad that you are here as well. And remember what our Lord said to the thief: 'Today you shall be with me in paradise.'"
He smiles at me, the sweetest, saddest smile I've ever seen, but there is joy in his eyes. I look at the soldier, pointing his rifle at my face, smile, and tell him, "I forgive you," as he pulls the trigger.