Where I live, in the United States, November means “Thanksgiving.” Although, technically, Thanksgiving is a one day public holiday, in typical American style we blow it up and stretch it out to epic proportions. We spend the whole month visiting pumpkin patches (although 95 percent of our pumpkin pies are from canned pumpkin or bought ready-made), decorating our homes with Pinterest-worthy word art about gratitude, planning the menu, and organizing huge, multi-day family get-togethers. 

I love Thanksgiving and fully enter into all of this admittedly extravagant build-up to the day. The fact is, we have a lot to be thankful for, and I long to cultivate gratitude in my children’s hearts (and my own). One of our family traditions is to have a “Thanksgiving tree” (a branch or brown-paper creation) to which we add leaves throughout the month. On the leaves, we write things we are thankful for—everything from favorite stuffed toys to clean water to the beds we sleep in and the cars we drive. 

But there is a danger here. A false god lurking just out of site of all the festivities. A lie that creeps in and twists itself around our hearts even as we offer praise to the God who gives it all. It subtly tells us:

God is good because life is good. 

God wants me to be happy.

I live right, so God blesses me.

Christianity is meant to be comfortable. 

No! We protest. We certainly don’t believe any of that. And yet…

How tightly do I hold on to these blessings? What if God allowed every one of those leaves to be stripped off my Thanksgiving tree? What if I had no four bedroom house? No cars? What if my children’s school was reduced to a couple of unventilated mud-brick rooms? What if there was no feast to look forward to—no certainty of our next meal, for that matter? Would I still worship and give thanks?

What if worshipping itself put a target on my back? What if my spouse spent years in prison for evangelizing, or disappeared altogether? What if the little I had could be confiscated or burned to the ground unless I renounced Christ? 

How many of us would still stand and say “God is faithful. God is good.”?

And yet, for millions of Christians around the world, what I just described are daily realities. 

Friends, it is possible that my comfortable version of Christianity is horribly anemic. 

Hebrews 13:3 tells us: Continue to remember those in prison as if you were together with them in prison, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.

I believe that God gives us this command, in part, as a cure to the lies that so easily entangle those of us who live relatively comfortable lives. As we pray for our brothers and sisters who are suffering, we are also reminded of God’s power over their situations, His presence in the midst of them. We are united with the whole body of Christ in a better, truer brand of Christianity. 

So this November, as we enter into a season of giving thanks, will you also commit with me to pray for those experiencing persecution? Let’s pray…

  • For those under persecution to know the presence and love of God in the midst of their circumstances. Pray for them to be strengthened to withstand any accusation or action against them and to have supernatural peace. Pray for boldness to stand in the truth of God’s goodness.
  • For protection of families and communities that are under persecution. Pray for wisdom in how to provide refuge and safety, especially for the more vulnerable family members (children, pregnant mothers, those with disabilities, the sick, the elderly). 
  • For the church to grow in loving its enemies—that they would know how to love their enemies well and wisely (Romans 12:20) and that God would, in turn, use their loving actions to bring relief from persecution.

For those who are persecuting Christians—that God would reveal His love and forgiveness to them. Pray that they would come to know the one true God.