Please be advised that this post briefly refers to a recent case of self immolation. If this would cause you distress, then please feel free to wait for the next blog.

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‘I trust the wick I ignite will bring light,’ the young man told his friends as he travelled by taxi to Ulaanbaatar’s central square. His friends, on the other end of the phone, laughed, thinking that he was going to make a Buddhist offering of light. A few minutes later, he stood on the Square covered himself in petrol and lit the flame. It was a stomach-sickening shock for everyone in the country.

People quickly assumed that the stress of the Covid -19 pandemic or even the government’s shortcomings had caused this young man to take such horrifying action. But no one really knew the despair that had captured his soul, although our hearts screamed out in pain as we prayed for his family, friends and this land. He wanted to be a light, to draw attention to something but his actions stunned and confused people.

Two weeks ago, a lovely friend of ours died. He, Barbaatar, and his wife Chimgay, had come to know the Lord later in life. Immediately after Barbaatar became a Christian, he gave up his day job to become a pastor, after which they spent eight years living in Siberia working with the Buriat people.

They returned to Mongolia nearly three years ago as Barbaatar was suffering from a degenerative disease to which the doctors were unable to give a definitive diagnosis. We visited Barbaatar and his wife Chimgay regularly, always praying and desperately hoping for answers but finding none. God seemed to have gone mute. Instead, we watched with horror as Barbaatar lost his mobility, his speech and finally his ability to breathe.

It was heart-breaking. Yet there was warmth and joy in their home because Barbaatar and Chimgay chose to remember that the sun rose each morning and that each new day was full of God’s goodness. They remembered what He had done for them and chose to hold on, knowing that His steadfast love never ceases, and that His mercy is fresh every day of our lives.

In the moments when they floundered, their church community supported them. Even though Mongolia passed through various stages of lockdown, their church family continued visiting them. The church loved them and that love sustained them. When they could not pray themselves, the prayers of others upheld them. The love of their church fed them, enabling them to keep on trusting God. They treasured their community, learning to listen for signs of His presence as they opened their hearts to Him in prayer.

The darkness, fear and unanswered questions took them to God. In the severity of their pain, unlikely blessings demonstrated that God’s compassion is limitless. And as they lived through each day, something shone from their lives: the reality of God’s mercy amid tribulation and of His mercies in lament. Without words they were proclaiming where their immovable hope lay, for they had received the true light of the world: Jesus Christ. The one who, paradoxically, takes man’s despair, the type of despair that takes us to our knees crying for deliverance, and uses it to form the core of our salvation.

© copyright Gillian Newham 2021