Si è svolta a Bali, in Indonesia, dal 13 al 15 agosto scorsi, l’Assemblea Generale internazionale della FGBMFI (Full Gospel Business Men’s Fellowship International), nel link una video sintesi dell’incontro. Fa veramente piacere vedere come, nel mondo, ci siano ancora uomini e donne di “buona volontà” impegnati nella testimonianza cristiana mentre, in Italia, vanno purtroppo in scena pietose riunioni politiche annuali, mascherate da assemblee di chiesa, promosse ed organizzate da strutture ecclesiastiche moribonde. The International General Assembly of the Full Gospel Business Men's Fellowship International (FGBMFI) took place in Bali, Indonesia, from August 13th to 15th. A video summary of the meeting can be found at the link. It's truly gratifying to see how, around the world, there are still men and women of "good will" committed to Christian witness, while, sadly, in Italy, pitiful annual political meetings take place, disguised as church assemblies, promoted and organized by moribund ecclesiastical bodies.

Good morning, brethren. 1. Morning devotion for today. MD.i. 😀🎀💝🎁🌺🌹MORNING TEA THE WORD FOR TODAY. MONDAY AUGUST 31, 2026. "WHAT IS "SUCCESS " FOR YOU?" I have glorified You on the earth...’ John 17:4 NKJV AT THE end of His life, Jesus was able to pray, ‘I have glorified You on the earth. I have finished the work which You have given Me to do.’ Jesus didn’t try to compete with John the Baptist or model Himself after some Old Testament prophet. He knew what ‘success’ was for Him. To know what it is for you, you must: 1) Discern what success really is. When others feel good about you, you’re popular; but when you feel good about yourself, you’re successful. Your life’s highest calling will always create the highest level of joy within you. 2) Before you set goals, pray. ‘In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths’ (Proverbs 3:6 NKJV). It’s not wrong to set goals, it’s just wrong to set them without first consulting God. 3) Stop expecting others to bring you success. Don’t wait for flowers to arrive. God gave you seed; start growing some of your own. ‘Pay careful attention to your own work, for then you will get the satisfaction of a job well done, and you won’t need to compare yourself to anyone else’ (Galatians 6:4 NLT). And besides, when you’re less needy you’ll become more attractive to others. 4) Get over yourself—everyone else has. A minister said he was praying one day, ‘Father, why does the devil keep reminding me of my past?’ God replied, ‘Because he’s running low on material!’ Repent, and then move on. God says He will ‘…not remember your sins’ (Isaiah 43:25 NKJV). There’s only one good reason to bring up the past, and that’s to learn from it and grow wiser. Bible In A Year: Ezek 22-23, Matt 22:23-33, Ps 142, Pro 19:21-23. Courtesy: Grace So Amazing Foundation 💝🎀 *To partner with us, kindly refer to page 9 of the hard copy edition or simply send us a WhatsApp message/call on +2348128000068.*🎀💝🌹🌷. MD.ii. [30/08, 9:40 pm] Pastor Attah: *MEDITATIONS ON DAILY ⓂANNA* MONDAY, 31ST AUGUST, 2026. *DANCING AT THE GATES OF HELL* *TEXT:* MICAH 2:7-13. 7 O thou that art named the house of Jacob, is the spirit of the LORD straitened? are these his doings? do not my words do good to him that walketh uprightly? 8 Even of late my people is risen up as an enemy: ye pull off the robe with the garment from them that pass by securely as men averse from war. 9 The women of my people have ye cast out from their pleasant houses; from their children have ye taken away my glory for ever. 10 Arise ye, and depart; for this is not your rest: because it is polluted, it shall destroy you, even with a sore destruction. 11 If a man walking in the spirit and falsehood do lie, saying, I will prophesy unto thee of wine and of strong drink; he shall even be the prophet of this people. 12 I will surely assemble, O Jacob, all of thee; I will surely gather the remnant of Israel; I will put them together as the sheep of Bozrah, as the flock in the midst of their fold: they shall make great noise by reason of the multitude of men. 13 The breaker is come up before them: they have broken up, and have passed through the gate, and are gone out by it: and their king shall pass before them, and the LORD on the head of them. *Timeless Truth:*_"Woe to them that are at ease in Zion, and trust in the mountain of Samaria, which are named chief of the nations, to whom the house of Israel came"_ (Amos 6:1). *INTRODUCTION* It is dangerous to live carelessly at the edge of spiritual destruction, presuming that God's patience means that His judgment will never come. The people of Israel had become comfortable with sin, oppression and false teachings, yet they still wanted to hear pleasant messages. They were, in effect, dancing at the gates of hell—enjoying temporary pleasures while moving dangerously close to divine judgment. The audience of Micah foreshadows this modern age or last days when the *"people will no longer be able to endure sound doctrine, but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears"* (2 Timothy 4:3). If Israel was severely punished for preferring fables to the sound Word of truth, the people of this age will have a more *"sorer punishments"* in eternal hell fire. Micah's message calls us to examine our hearts, remember the consequences of persistent rebellion and hasten to leave every path that leads to destruction. *1. Heart-Probing Questions* a. There were some probing questions in the text. *"O house of Jacob, is the Spirit of the LORD straitened [limited]?"* The people complained that God's power or patience was too short or that His Spirit should only give good messages instead of warning them about judgment. In the last days too, the same attitude and preference will increasingly continue. *"They shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables"* (2 Timothy 4:4). The sound doctrine of the Word of God will be a heavy burden and unbearable to the religious lovers of pleasure. Many preachers will unfaithfully dilute their messages to suit their audience and make them happy though they will eventually, lead them to destruction and hell. They also asked, *"Are these his doings?"*. The people questioned if God was really behind the hard times or the warnings of punishment they were hearing. To them, God is too good to inflict such a heavy judgment. It was not God that was behind their hard times, but their evils. When you do evil, evil will follow and when you do good, good will follow. b. God answered their questions. *"Do not my words do good to him that walketh uprightly?"* God answers that His messages are always good and helpful for people who actually, live right and obey Him. Even when the Word of God is a warning judgment, it is equally to do good to those who are rebellious and disobedient for it will turn them from the path of destruction. All the messages of God are good and are intended to do good in the lives of the obedient. Hearing His Word is never a liability if there is love for the truth. We must stop blaming God, the Church, our circumstances or other people for the consequences of our disobedience. The probing question is directed at our hearts: Are we walking uprightly before God? A person who rejects God's correction, but expects His blessings is dangerously deceiving himself. *Question* When God's Word confronts your lifestyle, do you humbly submit to it or resist its correction? *2. History of Protracted Quarrel* a. The basis of God's quarrel with Israel had always been because of their sins and violence against moral laws. God always gives reasons to justify His judgments so that it is clear to all that people's disobedience is not a matter of ignorance, but a deliberate choice and exercise of their will. Some of their evils were listed. The rebellion of God's people was not a momentary mistake; it had become a prolonged quarrel against God's righteous ways. They rose against others as enemies, robbed the peaceful, oppressed women and drove children away from their inheritance. *"The women of my people have ye cast out from their pleasant places"*. Furthermore, the children were messed up, demoralized and denied basic moral training and discipline that would make them radiate the glory of God. *"From their children have ye taken away my glory for ever"*. Robbery and insecurity of lives and property became a booming trade in the land. *"Ye pull off the robe with the garment from them that pass by securely"*. Worse still, they preferred false prophets who specialize in prophesying ephemeral blessings including wine and strong drink. b. Israel had a long history of persistent rebellion despite warnings from the prophets. Sin often begins as a private compromise, but can grow into a lifestyle that damages others. Persistent rebellion against God results in injustice, selfishness and spiritual blindness. Those dancing at the gates of hell may laugh at warnings and celebrate false assurances, but judgment does not disappear because people refuse to hear about it. *Question* Is there any sinful habit you have allowed to continue for so long that it is now affecting other people? *3. Hasten to Permanently Quit* God commanded His people to arise and depart because their sinful condition had made their present position spiritually unsafe. Lot was told by the angel to hasten *"while he lingers"* though the fire of hell was almost dropping like rain. He was warned *"escape for thy life"* (Genesis 19:16,17). If he had delayed further, the fire of God would have caught him with all his family members. When God pronounces His judgments on wickedness, the wisest thing to do is to speedily take steps and quit whatever is displeasing to God. *“This is not your rest.”* Though the judgment of God was catching up with them, they still believed their mind and the messages of compromising prophets who promised them *"peace, peace, when there is no peace"*. They were relaxed, unresponsive and continued their lives of pleasure as if the prophet was just wasting his time. Any promised rest or enjoyment in the midst of sin is fake and deceptive. *"Arise ye, and depart, for this is not your rest: because it is polluted, it shall destroy you, even with a sore destruction"*. God always remembers mercy in His wrath. He asked them to seek for exile in other countries because the judgment on the land as a result of their evil was irreversible. God's solution against His judgments is always departure from sin and objects of divine rebukes and displeasure. *"Depart ye, depart ye"*. b. As characterictic of God, the message ended with hope and restoration for the repentant remnants. God promised to gather His remnant and lead them like a shepherd. After they had suffered in the land of the captivity, "the Breaker" (The Messiah) went before them, opening the way for deliverance and led them back to their land. This will also be repeated in the last days when Messiah will come back to deliver Israel from the hand of their enemies, especially the Antichrist. God does not call us to abandon sin without providing the grace and power to escape it. Christ is our Deliverer, able to break the chains of bondage and lead us into true freedom. Do not dance near the gates of hell. Arise, repent and permanently quit every sinful path. Run toward Christ, who alone leads His people safely through the way of life. *Question* What must you urgently and permanently leave behind in order to walk freely with Christ? *Prayer Points* 1.Lord, search my heart and reveal every area where I have resisted Your Word and correction🙏. 2.Father, deliver me from every prolonged habit of sin that is destroying my fellowship with You and hurting others🙏. 3.Lord, give me more love for the truth and give me hatred for all forms of deceptions🙏 4.Lord Jesus, my Deliverer and Breaker, go before me, break every chain of bondage and lead me into a life of holiness and victory👆. *HYMN:* Have you counted the cost? *BIBLE IN ONE YEAR:* ESTHER 6-10. [30/08, 9:40 pm] Pastor Attah: ```DAILY Ⓜ️ANNA - (A DAILY DEVOTIONAL GUIDE FOR ADULTS) MONDAY 31ST AUGUST, 2026``` *CAGED IN COMFORT* 📓📖🎚️🫵🏽🙋🏽‍♂️🙋🏽‍♀️⚠️‼️🛑🧎🏽🧎🏽‍♀️🙏🏽 📜📜```TEXT:MICAH 2:7-13```📜📜 🔑📖```KEY VERSE:``` _*"Arise ye, and depart; for this is not your rest: because it is polluted, it shall destroy you, even with a sore destruction" (MICAH 2:10).*_ *In 2019, a massive earthquake struck Indonesia, displacing thousands of people. Entire communities were forced to abandon their homes, not because they wanted to, but because the ground beneath them had become unstable. For many, staying behind meant certain destruction. The tragedy was not just in the collapse of buildings but also in the reluctance of some to leave despite clear warnings.* *Micah's message to Israel carried a similar urgency. In Micah 2:10, the prophet declares, "Arise ye, and depart; for this is not your rest: because it is polluted, it shall destroy you, even with a sore destruction." The people of Israel had settled into spiritual complacency, believing that their land and prosperity were secure. Yet, their corruption had made their very dwelling place dangerous. God's warning was clear: comfort without righteousness leads to ruin.* *The Israelites had defiled the land with injustice and idolatry. They exploited the poor, perverted justice, and silenced the voices of truth. Yet, they refused to believe that judgment was coming. Their sense of security was false. Micah's call was not just about physical exile but also about a spiritual awakening.* *This is a message for our generation. Many cling to lifestyles, habits, or environments that have become spiritually toxic. Some remain in relationships, careers, or ideologies that corrupt their faith. The call to "arise and depart" is not always about physical relocation but about spiritual repositioning. God often calls His people to leave behind what is no longer safe for their souls. When we refuse, destruction follows. Israel's refusal to heed this warning led a life devoid of His presence and peace.* *Are there habits, relationships, associations, or mind-sets that you need to leave behind? Spiritual stagnation is as dangerous as physical complacency. When a place, practice, or pursuit no longer aligns with God's will, staying becomes destructive. The believer's true rest is not in earthly security but in God Himself. When He calls us to move, it is always for our preservation. Do not let comfort keep you in a place that has become unfit for your soul.* ✍🏽```THOUGHT FOR THE DAY:``` _*No amount of wealth can buy enduring rest for it only abides in Christ.*_ 📜📜```THE BIBLE IN ONE YEAR:``` *ESTHER 6-10*📜📜 Caged In Comfort https://dailymanna.app// *RECOMMENDED GOSPEL HYMNS AND SONGS - GHS 190: "CALLED UNTO HOLINESS"; GHS 179: HIGHER GROUND; GHS 189: TAKE TIME TO BE HOLY; AND GHS 253: MY PORTION FOR EVER* *TXD [THEXDEVOTIONALS] on Twitter* *#DailyManna31stAugust2026* *#GCK* *#WorshipNuggets* *#BibleNuggets* *#LeadershipNuggets* *#RevivalNuggets* *#CrusadeNuggets* https://www.youtube.com/[THEXDEVOTIONALS] [30/08, 9:40 pm] Pastor Attah: ```DEEPER CHRISTIAN LIFE MINISTRY``` _*HIGHER EVERYD🅰️Y: (A DAILY DEVOTIONAL GUIDE FOR YOUTHS)*_ ✍🏽👩🏻‍💼🌻 🍇🙏🏽🛰🚀🔬📚 ```MONDAY 31ST AUGUST, 2026``` *POWER OF FAITH CONFESSION - 1* 🎚️📓📖🫵🏽🙋🏽‍♂️🙋🏽‍♀️🧎🏽🧎🏽‍♀️🗣️🙏🏽🙌🏽 📜📜```TEXT:LUKE 7:1-10```📜📜 📖``` MEMORY VERSE:``` _*"Wherefore neither thought I myself worthy to come unto thee: but say in a word, and my servant shall be healed" (LUKE 7:7).*_ *Faith confession is when your spoken word agrees with the written word of God - the Bible. It is saying what God says about your situation. God has said wonderful, life-changing things about His children. When we agree with His word and speak the same thing, the resultant effect is that it brings positive changes in our circumstances - academics, health, career, spiritual life, and standard of living.* *Saying what God says about your life brings you to heights you can never dream you could reach. Therefore, speak victory and not defeat. Meditate on the unfailing promises of God. "A man shall be satisfied with good by the fruit of his mouth" (Proverbs 12:14a). Be positive with your words. Negative words attract negative things to you.* *Your words will either bring pain or pleasure. Your confession will produce life or death. Your words shape your life. Therefore, choose your words carefully before you utter them. God spoke, "and it was done; he commanded, and it stood fast" (Psalm 33:9). In like manner, you possess what you confess because you are created after the image of God.* 💬 ```QUOTE:``` _*Speak victory and not defeat.*_ 🏆 ```CHALLENGE:``` _*Be positive in your confession.*_ 🙏🏽🙏🏽 ```PRAYER:``` _*Lord, help my decision to always speak positive words.*_ Power Of Faith Confession - 1 https://dailymanna.app// *TXD [THEXDEVOTIONALS] on Twitter* *#HigherEveryday31stAugust2026* *#GCK* *#WorshipNuggets* *#BibleNuggets* *#LeadershipNuggets* *#RevivalNuggets* *#CrusadeNuggets* https://www.youtube.com/[THEXDEVOTIONALS] [30/08, 9:40 pm] Pastor Attah: ```DEEPER CHRISTIAN LIFE MINISTRY``` _*(SINCERE MILK: Children Daily Devotional Guide 2⃣0⃣2⃣6️⃣)*_ 🙇🏼🙇🏼🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇🏼🙇‍♀️🙇🏼🙇‍♀️🙇🏼‍♂️ ```MONDAY 31ST AUGUST, 2026``` *THE BLAME GAME* 📓📖🎚️🫵🏽🙋🏽‍♂️🙋🏽‍♀️👥👉🏼👈🏼❌🧎🏽🧎🏽‍♀️🙏🏽 📜📜```GENESIS 3:9-15```📜📜 🕔📚🖋️🚻😁🎼🏆🍉🪴🌈💻 🔑📖 ```Key Verse:``` _*"And the man said, The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I did eat" (Genesis 3:12).*_ 📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖 God put our first parents in the Garden of Eden to care for it and enjoy all the good things in it. But the devil came and deceived the woman to disobey God, and eventually Adam too disobeyed. When God came down calling for man and asking why they had disobeyed His instruction, the blame game started. Each of them started shifting blame. God who is patient and longsuffering asked the woman to explain what happened, she too pushed the blame to the serpent. If they had simply acknowledged their sinfulness and begged for forgiveness, the human race will not be in the mess we are in today. Their disobedience corrupted and made us dirty before God. We all inherited the nature of sin and wickedness. This is the reason many children often pass off their wrongdoings to others. Some children, even when caught red-handed, will still blame someone else for their disobedience. *God wants us to be humble enough to accept responsibility for our wrongdoings. Do not shift the blame, repent and ask God to have mercy on you.* 🍥🍥🍥🍥🍥🍥🍥🍥 ```🅿️rayer:``` _*Lord, give me the courage to always own up to my disobedience and also repent.*_ 🙏🏽 ```📖 Further Reading:``` *1 Samuel 15:10-21* The Blame Game https://dailymanna.app// *TXD [THEXDEVOTIONALS] on Twitter* *#SincereMilk31stAugust2026* *#GCK* *#WorshipNuggets* *#BibleNuggets* *#LeadershipNuggets* *#RevivalNuggets* *#CrusadeNuggets* https://www.youtube.com/[THEXDEVOTIONALS]. 2. Morning Prayer for today. MP.i. Morning Prayer For our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ: ⏤ Philippians 3:20 The men who have done the most for God in this world have been early on their knees. ⏤ E.M. Bounds O God, most merciful—bless us this morning. Lay Your hand upon us with a Father’s blessing. May the grace of the Lord Jesus be upon us and in us all day long. Let Your word dwell in our hearts richly in all wisdom, teaching and admonishing us. May it be so deeply rooted in us that it keeps us from sin. May the power of Your Spirit rest upon us throughout this day, cleansing and purifying our thoughts, feelings, and all our inner life, and compelling us to walk in holiness in all we say and do. Please guide us today, O God, and keep us in all our experiences. Guard us from carelessness. Let us not drift away from the holy truths we have been taught, nor from Jesus Christ our Savior. Let us not become entangled in the affairs of this world in a way that causes us to lose any of the sanctity of our lives. Though we are in the world, let us not be of it. Help us to maintain a godly life amid all that is ungodly. May our citizenship always be visibly in Heaven, even though we dwell on this earth. May we be true pilgrims, looking for a city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God. Let us not love this world as if we were going to stay in it forever. Grant a personal blessing to each one in our family. Our needs are different. Tenderly care for those of us who are weak. Shelter any of us who will be exposed to temptation today, and let us not fall. If any unforeseen trouble or sorrow lies in our path, prepare us for it, that we may not be caught off guard and fall into sin. May we each carry out into the world a power of love and grace that will bless everyone we meet. We ask all this for Jesus’ sake. Amen. https://www.youdevotion.com/daily-prayer/miller/57/morning #taptapstudio #youdevotion.

Shalom, good afternoon to all my fellow servants of God here... Allow me to introduce myself: I am Rev. Petrus, M.Th., from Indonesia. I discovered this community on Facebook. I am grateful and thank God for giving me the opportunity to be part of a community of God’s servants who can serve for the glory of God’s kingdom. I am very open to discussing anything related to God’s work, such as preaching the Gospel and matters that can expand God’s kingdom. Greetings to all my fellow believers in this community. Regards, Ps. Christian Petrus,M.Th #lordsbook #christiancommunity

Throwback when I sat at balcony during the sermon of The Ascending Day of Jesus Christ at church in Indonesia. The song is about the glory to God and atfer this one we continue sang Doxology.

From our church (GRII) for Indonesia. #Concert #Jakarta

worship in indonesia song

PART 3: I Killed 40+ Christians as a Doctor”: Muslim Doctor’s Secret Poisoning Christian Patients At 2:45 in the afternoon—almost 12 hours after I’d started trying to save Grace—I was called urgently back to the room. I’d stepped out briefly to get more medication. When I ran back in, the monitors were going crazy. Alarms were blaring. Grace was crashing. Her heart rate was erratic, bouncing between too fast and too slow. Her breathing had become shallow, gasping. Her oxygen saturation was dropping rapidly. Her skin had taken on a grayish tone. Rebecca was screaming, calling her daughter’s name over and over. She was begging Grace not to leave her, telling her to hold on, promising her that everything would be okay if she’d just hold on. I tried everything. I administered emergency medications. I called for a crash cart. I did every intervention I knew. But nothing worked. Grace’s body was shutting down. The poison had done too much damage. My attempts to reverse it had come too late. At 3:17 in the afternoon, Grace’s heart stopped. The monitor emitted that single sustained tone that every medical professional dreads—that sound that means death. Rebecca collapsed over her daughter’s body. She was screaming, crying, begging God to bring Grace back. She kept saying she couldn’t lose her daughter too. That she couldn’t bear losing both her husband and her child. That she had nothing left if Grace was gone. I stood frozen at the foot of the bed. Watching the scene I’d caused. Watching a mother’s grief that I’d created. Watching a child’s death that I’d engineered. Watching the consequences of my choices play out in real time. The attending physician came running. He tried to resuscitate Grace, but I knew it was pointless. The damage was too severe. After 15 minutes, he stopped and recorded the time of death. Rebecca’s screams had turned into these broken, animal sounds of grief. Security had to help her stand. They tried to lead her out of the room, but she kept collapsing. She kept reaching for Grace’s body. She kept begging God to wake her baby up. I staggered out of the room and made it to a supply closet before I vomited. Then I leaned against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor, my whole body shaking. I’d killed before—killed dozens of times—but I’d never stayed to watch. I’d never seen the immediate aftermath. I’d never stood there while a mother discovered her child was dead and knew it was my fault. I somehow made it through the rest of my shift. I don’t remember how. I just moved through motions, my mind blank, my body numb. When my shift finally ended, I went home, called in sick for the next day, and didn’t leave my apartment. I stayed inside for 14 days. For two weeks, I was trapped in my apartment with my guilt. I didn’t go to work. I barely ate. I couldn’t sleep more than an hour or two at a time. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. All my victims appeared in my dreams. They surrounded my bed, just standing there looking at me, asking why. “Why did you kill me? Why did you hate me so much? Why did you think you were righteous?” Jesus appeared in my dreams every night. Sometimes he simply sat with me in the darkness, saying nothing, just present in my grief. Other times he spoke to me. One night I screamed at him through my tears. I asked him why he took Grace. Why he let her die when I tried to save her. I told him it wasn’t fair that I tried, that I’d begged him for help. He answered gently that Grace died so I would feel the full weight of what I’d done. He explained that every mother I’d made childless had felt what Rebecca Okonquo felt. Every child I’d orphaned had felt what Grace felt. He told me I needed to stand in that hospital room and face the consequences of my actions—not to destroy me, but to break me open so he could remake me. I told him I couldn’t live with this guilt. That I was a monster who didn’t deserve to breathe. He corrected me tenderly. He said I was a monster—past tense. But he told me he makes all things new. He said he could make even me new, even after all I’d done. He told me that’s what grace means: undeserved favor, impossible mercy, love for the unlovable. On the 13th night, he gave me an instruction. He told me to go to Rebecca Okonquo. He said I needed to confess what I’d done. He told me to ask her forgiveness. I argued with him. I told him Rebecca would have me arrested. I said I’d go to prison, maybe face execution. I told him I deserved to die. He agreed that I deserved to die. But he reminded me that he’d already died in my place. Then he commanded me again: go face what I’d done. On the 15th day, I returned to the hospital. I submitted my resignation letter, effective immediately. My supervisor was shocked, tried to convince me to stay, but I insisted. Then I asked administration for the Okonquo family’s contact information. They told me Rebecca was still in Malaysia, preparing to take her daughter’s body back to the United States. They gave me her temporary address. I drove there in a daze. Every part of me wanted to run away. Every instinct screamed at me to flee. But I forced myself to park. Forced myself to walk to the door. Forced myself to knock. Rebecca opened the door. Her eyes were swollen from crying. She’d lost weight in the two weeks since Grace died. When she recognized me, confusion crossed her face. She asked why I was there. I asked if I could come in. My voice was shaking so badly I could hardly speak. We sat in her small living room. Two large suitcases stood by the door, ready for her flight back to America. A framed photo of Grace sat on the coffee table. Grace—smiling, vibrant, alive—full of the future she’d never have. I told Rebecca I needed to confess something. Then I started talking. I told her everything. About the group of Muslim healthcare workers. About our monthly meetings where we celebrated killing Christian patients. About the methods we used. About the dozens of people I’d murdered. About my belief that I was serving Allah, fighting jihad, earning paradise. Then I told her about Grace: that her death wasn’t a tragic complication. That I deliberately poisoned her. That I’d planned to kill her from the moment I saw the cross Rebecca wore around her neck. That Grace died because I hated Christians and believed killing them was righteous. I told her about Jesus appearing to me, about how I tried to save Grace but failed, about standing in that room and watching her die and knowing it was my fault. By the time I finished, both of us were sobbing. I was on the floor, unable to even look at the woman whose daughter I’d murdered. I told her I deserved death, that I deserved hell, that I understood if she wanted to call the police right now. Rebecca was silent for a long time. I could hear her crying, hear her struggling to breathe through her grief. Then she spoke, her voice thick with tears. She told me that Jesus had spoken to her the day before. She said she didn’t understand it at the time. He told her she needed to forgive. She thought maybe he was preparing her to forgive the illness that took Grace, or the hospital for not saving her. She said she didn’t understand what Jesus meant until I walked through her door. Then she did something I will never understand—not if I live a thousand years. She got down on the floor beside me. She took my hands in hers. And she told me she forgave me. She said she didn’t forgive me because I deserved it. She was clear about that. I didn’t deserve forgiveness—not from her, not from anyone. But she explained that Jesus had forgiven her when she didn’t deserve it either. And she said Jesus was telling her that he had plans for me. That Grace’s death would not be meaningless. That somehow God would bring redemption out of this horror. She helped me stand up. Then she told me there was someone I needed to meet. Rebecca took me to meet Pastor Samuel, a man who led an underground church and worked specifically with converts from Islam. We met in a small, hidden space in a basement where believers gathered secretly, knowing that being discovered could mean violence, arrest, or death. Pastor Samuel listened to my whole story. Then he looked at me with tears in his eyes and told me that Jesus specializes in transforming murderers into missionaries. He reminded me that the Apostle Paul had killed Christians, truly believed he was serving God, and then met Jesus and became one of the greatest preachers of grace in history. That night, surrounded by people who’d lost everything to follow Jesus, I confessed my sins and accepted Christ. Pastor Samuel baptized me in a metal tub in that basement. As I went under the water, I felt the weight of my guilt wash over me again. But when I came up, something had shifted. The weight wasn’t gone—I knew I’d carry it forever—but I felt something I’d never felt before: hope. The possibility that somehow, some way, God could use even someone like me. I went home that night and wrote a letter to my family. I explained my conversion. I told them I’d accepted Christ. I said I was sorry for the pain this would cause them, but I couldn’t deny what I’d experienced. I left the letter on the kitchen table with my apartment keys beside it. I packed a single bag with clothes and my few important documents. Then I walked out, knowing I could never go back. When my father found my letter the next morning, his response was immediate. He declared me an apostate. He told the mosque that I’d betrayed Islam. My brothers publicly vowed to kill me themselves to restore the family’s honor. Within 48 hours, my photograph was circulating in extremist networks throughout Malaysia with a price on my head. The hospital launched a full investigation into patient deaths that had occurred under my care. My confession to Rebecca—which she’d courageously reported to the police despite knowing it might put me in danger—triggered criminal charges. An international warrant was issued for my arrest. I became a fugitive. The underground church network moved me to safe houses, never staying more than a few days in each location. I lived in constant fear. Every sound at night could be my brothers. Every stranger could be someone collecting the bounty. Every police car could mean arrest and imprisonment. But despite the danger, I found Pastor Samuel again. He connected me with an underground missionary organization that worked in the most dangerous places: villages where Christians were hunted, regions where missionaries were regularly killed, areas where simply being Christian meant risking death. I told them I wanted to serve. They tried to talk me out of it, explaining the dangers. I told them I understood danger better than most. I’d been the danger. Now I wanted to be on the other side. They sent me first to a village in Indonesia where believers were being persecuted by radical Islamic groups. My job was to provide medical care and share the gospel. I worked with Indonesian Christians who risked their lives daily to follow Jesus. The persecution started immediately. When local Muslims discovered a former Muslim doctor was treating Christians, word spread quickly. One night, a mob surrounded the small clinic where I was working. They threw stones at the building. They chanted death threats. They demanded I come out so they could punish me for apostasy. The local Christians hid me in a secret room beneath the clinic. I stayed there for three days while the mob outside screamed for my death. I could hear them throwing things, breaking windows, threatening to burn the building down. For three days, I didn’t see sunlight. I barely ate. I prayed constantly, terrified, asking Jesus if this was how I would die. On the third night, the mob dispersed after police finally intervened. But I’d learned my first lesson in persecution: that following Jesus means losing safety, comfort, and control. My second assignment was in Pakistan. I worked in a small underground clinic treating believers who couldn’t go to public hospitals because of discrimination. One afternoon, religious police raided our clinic. They arrested me and three other workers. They took us to a detention center. For five days, I was interrogated. They wanted names of other converts. They wanted information about the underground church. They wanted me to renounce Christ and return to Islam. When I refused, the beatings started. I was hit with batons. I was kicked. I was left in a cell with no food and minimal water. They told me this would stop the moment I said the Shahada—the Islamic declaration of faith. All I had to do was say those words, and the pain would end. I thought about it in my weakness, exhausted and hurt. I genuinely considered giving up. But then I remembered Grace. I remembered all my victims. I remembered that Jesus had died for me when I was still his enemy. And I realized that suffering for Jesus wasn’t punishment. It was privilege. I was finally on the right side. I was finally suffering for truth, instead of causing suffering for lies. After five days, international pressure led to my release. I was deported back to Malaysia, where I immediately went into hiding again because the charges there were still active. My third assignment took me to Bangladesh. I worked with a team providing medical care to Christian families who’d fled persecution from Myanmar. We operated in secret, moving constantly, always aware that we could be discovered and killed at any moment. One evening, our location was betrayed. Extremists attacked our camp. They came with weapons, shouting about killing the infidels and the traitors who helped them. We ran into the jungle. I was separated from my team. I spent three days alone in the forest without food, terrified, hearing search parties looking for us. When I finally found my way to another village, I learned that two of our team members had been caught. They were beaten severely. One of them, a young man named David, died from his injuries. I attended his funeral in secret. His mother told me that David knew the risks but believed Jesus was worth dying for. She said he talked about me specifically—about how a former murderer had become a missionary, and how that gave him hope that Jesus could use anyone. Her words broke me. I’d killed people who were like David. I’d murdered believers who thought they were safe. And now I was surrounded by people who chose to die rather than deny Jesus, while I’d spent years killing to defend a false version of God. Each assignment brought new persecution. In Malaysia, I was nearly caught by my brothers three times. Once, I saw them searching a market where I’d gone to buy supplies. I hid in a shop for four hours, terrified, praying they wouldn’t find me. In the southern Philippines, I worked with Christians who lived under constant threat from Islamic militants. One village we served was attacked while I was there. Militants came through shooting, burning homes, looking specifically for Christians. We hid in a neighbor’s basement for 18 hours while the attack continued above us. I could hear screaming, gunfire, the sounds of destruction. When we finally emerged, seven believers had been killed, including two children. The worst beating I received happened in a village in Indonesia. Someone had informed the local imam that an apostate Muslim woman was treating Christians in the area. He organized a crowd to find me. They caught me as I was leaving a patient’s home. They dragged me to the village center. The imam pronounced me guilty of apostasy and aiding enemies of Islam. Then the beating began. Men and women both participated. They used their fists, their feet, pieces of wood. They stripped off my outer clothes to humiliate me. They spit on me. They called me a traitor, a demon. I thought I would die. I genuinely believed this was the end. I remember praying, thanking Jesus for saving me, asking him to receive my spirit. I thought about Grace, about Rebecca’s forgiveness, about how I’d spent years persecuting believers and now was being persecuted for believing. THE END

PART 1: “I Killed 40+ Christians as a Doctor”: Muslim Doctor’s Secret Poisoning Christian Patients. My name is Fatima Alman. I was a murderer who wore a white coat instead of a mask. I killed not in dark alleys but in sterile hospital rooms. I ended lives not with bullets but with medications. Not with violence but with what everyone believed was mercy and healing. And I did it all believing I was serving Allah. There are some secrets that hospitals keep in their halls that no medical textbook will ever record. Some hands that heal by day become instruments of death by night. And sometimes the person you trust most with your life is the one planning to take it. What I’m about to tell you changed everything I thought I knew about good and evil, about redemption and justice, about whether someone can come back from becoming a monster. Stay with me because this story will disturb you, break you, and maybe, just maybe, heal something inside you that you didn’t know was wounded. I was 29 years old when my world collapsed. When everything I believed shattered like glass. When I discovered that the person I thought was righteous was actually the villain in every story I’d ever been part of. I grew up in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, in a family that most people would have called devout. From the time I was a small girl, I heard the same messages repeated like prayers: that unbelievers were a disease on this earth, that Christians and Jews were the greatest enemies of Allah, that killing them was not murder but justice, not sin but righteousness. My father told me that paradise had levels and the highest levels were reserved for those who fought for Islam. He explained that jihad didn’t always mean carrying weapons in obvious ways. He said that sometimes the greatest warriors were those who fought from positions no one would suspect. He told me that if I became a doctor, I could serve Allah in ways that others couldn’t imagine. I believed him. Every word. I studied hard, earned top marks, got accepted into medical school at University Malaya. I took the Hippocratic Oath with my classmates, promising to do no harm, to treat all patients with equal care, to preserve life above all else. I spoke those words with my mouth while my heart held completely different intentions. To me, that oath applied only to Muslims. Christians and other infidels didn’t deserve the same protections. They were enemies. And in war, you didn’t heal your enemies. You eliminated them. After I completed my residency, I started working at one of the major government hospitals in Kuala Lumpur. That’s where I met them—the others like me. Dr. Hassan introduced me during my second week. He told me about a group of Muslim healthcare workers who met regularly, who shared a common understanding of our true purpose in the medical field. The first meeting shocked me, not because of what they were doing, but because I’d found my people—others who understood. There were six of us initially: three doctors, two nurses, and a pharmacist. We met in Dr. Hassan’s apartment once a month. We shared meals, prayed together, and then we talked about our work. Dr. Hassan opened that first meeting by asking each person to share their recent victories. I listened as a nurse named Aisha described how she’d deliberately given wrong medication to a Christian patient recovering from surgery. She told us how the patient had developed complications and died within 48 hours. She smiled as she said this, and everyone else nodded with approval. A doctor named Kareem shared how he’d misdiagnosed a Christian businessman, sending him home with painkillers when the man actually had appendicitis. The man died from a ruptured appendix three days later. They went around the circle sharing stories of Christians who died under their care. Wrong medications, deliberate overdoses, treatments withheld, diagnostic errors that weren’t errors at all. Each story ended the same way—with death—and with the group celebrating another victory for Islam. When it came to my turn, I felt embarrassed that I had nothing to share yet. But Dr. Hassan placed his hand on my shoulder and told me not to worry. He said that Allah had brought me to them for a purpose, and soon I would have my own victories to report. He explained that what we were doing was true jihad, that we were fighting on the front lines of a war most Muslims didn’t even know was happening. He reminded us that the Prophet himself had commanded believers to fight against unbelievers, and that our method was simply more sophisticated than previous generations. I went home that night feeling something I hadn’t felt in years. Purpose. I had found my calling. I would be a warrior for Islam, and no one would ever suspect the young female doctor with a kind smile and gentle hands. My first victim came two weeks later. Her name was Sarah Tan. She was a 34-year-old marketing executive at a multinational company. She’d come in for a routine gallbladder surgery—something we performed dozens of times each month without complications. She was Christian. I saw the small cross necklace she wore. I heard her thank Jesus when I told her the procedure would be straightforward. That cross made my decision easy. After her surgery, I was assigned to manage her post-operative care. Everything had gone smoothly during the procedure. She should have recovered normally and gone home within three days. But I adjusted her medication dosage, increasing her pain medication to levels that I knew would suppress her respiratory system. I did it gradually over the course of 18 hours so it would look like a natural complication. I was in the room when she died. I watched her oxygen levels drop, watched her breathing become shallow, watched the monitor flatline. The attending physician rushed in, tried to resuscitate her, but it was too late. He turned to me with confusion in his eyes and asked what had happened. I told him I didn’t know, that she’d seemed fine, that perhaps she’d had an undetected underlying condition. Her husband arrived an hour later. He collapsed when we told him his wife was gone. He kept asking how this could happen, saying she’d only come in for a simple procedure, saying she’d texted him that morning telling him she felt fine. I stood there in my white coat, my face arranged in professional sympathy, and told him that sometimes complications arose that no one could predict. I told him we’d done everything we could. I felt no guilt. None at all. Instead, I felt satisfaction. I’d struck a blow for Islam. I’d removed one more Christian from the earth. That night, I performed my prayers with extra devotion. I thanked Allah for allowing me to serve him. I asked for more opportunities. At the next meeting of our group, I shared my story. They celebrated with me. Dr. Hassan told me I’d done well, that Allah was pleased. Aisha hugged me and told me I was a true sister in jihad. We prayed together, asking Allah to give us more chances to fight his battles. The killing became easier after that. My second victim was a contractor named Michael who came in for a routine health screening. He was in his 40s, healthy, with nothing wrong except slightly elevated cholesterol. He mentioned during his examination that he attended a charismatic church downtown. He showed me photos on his phone of his church’s recent mission trip to Indonesia. I prescribed him medication that I told him would help with his cholesterol. Actually, I gave him drugs that would create blood clots in his system. I told him to take them daily. He trusted me completely, thanking me for taking such good care of him. Two weeks later, I heard from a colleague that he died at home from a sudden pulmonary embolism. His death was ruled natural causes. No one suspected anything. After Michael, I killed a businessman named Peter, then a teacher named Ruth, then an elderly man named Thomas. Each death was carefully planned. Each one looked like natural causes or unfortunate complications. I varied my methods: overdoses, wrong medications, fatal drug interactions, treatments withheld until it was too late. I stopped counting after my 12th victim. Killing became routine—just part of my job. I’d see a patient, notice signs of their Christian faith, and begin planning their death: a cross necklace, a Bible in their bag, a church bulletin, a prayer before treatment. Any sign was enough. Our group grew. By my second year at the hospital, we had 11 members. We moved our meetings to different locations to avoid suspicion. We developed sophisticated methods, sharing techniques for killing patients in ways that would never be detected. We coached each other on how to falsify records, how to deflect questions, how to appear devastated when patients died. I felt powerful. I felt righteous. I felt like I was doing exactly what Allah had created me to do. Every time I administered poison, every time I heard that another Christian patient had died, I whispered ‘Allahu Akbar’ in my heart. God is greatest. God is greatest. I was serving the Greatest by eliminating his enemies. My family was proud of me, though they didn’t know the full extent of my work. My father told his congregation about his daughter, the doctor who was serving the community. My brothers told me they wished they could fight for Islam as effectively as I was. My mother would stroke my hair and tell me I was her precious daughter, her gift from Allah. I was 29 years old. I’d been a doctor for four years. I had killed at least 40 people—probably more. I slept peacefully every night. I had no nightmares, no doubts, no guilt. I believed with every fiber of my being that I was righteous, that I was holy, that paradise awaited me. Then Grace Okonquo was admitted to my ward… TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2

Asia is my home.. I have traveled to Vietnam, Indonesia, philippennes and live in China Please join me in praying for this continent as this needs fervent and urgent prayer Thanks Keith https://totallylovedbygod67.cw.center/category/asia-action/

CHAPTER 19 OPEN THE DOOR, KEITH! Psalm 24:1 "The earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; the world, and they that dwell therein." While in China, I have been able to travel throughout Asia and around the world. In 2015, we returned to the UK for the first time. We took a five-day trip around the country, starting in London and travelling up to the Scottish Highlands. We ended in Cambridge, where we met my cousin Elaine, her husband Clifford, and their children Claire and John. They warmly welcomed us and took us to Ely to see the beautiful cathedral. We had booked two nights at a Holiday Inn in Bradford to see my niece Victoria and her mother Carol, along with my nephew James. They agreed to meet us at the hotel and arrived on time. They all came up to our room, and then there was another knock at the door. Standing there, grinning like a Cheshire cat, was my brother Peter, who had travelled over especially to surprise me. That day we visited our birthplace and drove to Haworth, famous for the Brontë sisters. We also rode on the steam train made famous by The Railway Children. What an amazing day. It was Chinese New Year’s Eve, so Helen cooked authentic Chinese food for my family. The sceptics were completely won over by Helen. We then travelled to my hometown of Morecambe to stay with Brian and Sandra, who had helped me complete my visa application for China. They took us back to my home church, where we shared what was happening in China. We were also able to share the gospel on the streets of Lancaster, even meeting a university student who came from Nanjing. Over the next few years, we visited Helen’s relatives in Indonesia, where we saw Lake Toba, the second-largest lake in the world. We also travelled to the Philippines, where Helen and Ming swam with whale sharks and enjoyed delicious seafood, especially crabs. In 2017, we travelled to the USA and Canada. We visited iconic places such as Horseshoe Bend, Antelope Canyon, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Grand Canyon, and even the more chaotic side of life in Las Vegas. We then went to Canada, where we experienced the majesty of the Rocky Mountains, especially in Jasper and Banff. However, 2017 was also a painful year, as my beloved brother Peter died after a very short illness. It was a great blow to me, as we had shared many phone calls and Skype conversations. I know he died peacefully, knowing his younger brother was settled. DEVOTIONAL THOUGHT Having my brother come and visit me was a great joy. Losing him to cancer in 2017 was deeply painful. He passed away after a very short illness of two months, caused by a rare cancer that usually affects children. When he died, many people said they missed him and that a part of their lives was gone. For me, it was more than that. It felt like losing my right arm. We had the same blood running through our veins and came from the same parents. Although we were very different in many ways—especially in matters of faith, with me as an evangelical Christian and Peter as an atheist/humanist—we were still brothers. Some of the things we did together still make me smile. For example, when we were returning from Tadoussac, I put a CD into the car player. He said, “Let me do that,” and promptly inserted it into the wrong slot above the CD player, breaking it completely. Small things like that stay in the memory. He was a character. When his wife visited her parents in the UK, he once took his two children straight to the sweet aisle at the supermarket and then fed them baked beans on toast for seven days in a row! I miss him deeply. I used to tell him I loved him, and he would reply, “Yeah, me too.” Now I cannot say that to him anymore. The things that truly matter are love, hope, and faith—especially love. What would it have been like if God had concealed His love from us? But He did not. He revealed His love through the Cross. God did not remain silent; He expressed His love in Christ. Romans 5:7–8 "7 For scarcely for a righteous man will one die: yet peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die. 8 But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." Thank God, we are loved. The most important thing we must never stop doing is telling people we love them—because one day, we may not be able to. CHAPTER 20 JUST TESTING Ecclesiastes 3:1–2 "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted." Life was idyllic as we entered the third decade of the century, but danger was always lurking. In early 2020, we began hearing about a virus called COVID-19. We were used to seasonal flu-like illnesses in winter, but this was different. Before January ended, Helen was home all the time, and we had to be tested everywhere we went. Some mornings, as I ran errands and did chores, I was tested up to five times. I tested negative each time—there is a first time for everything! I remember going out one evening at 8 p.m. Normally the streets would be busy, but now there was an eerie silence—no cars, no people, no activity. Everything was closed. It felt surreal. Everywhere we went, we were tested. We were unable to travel freely for two to three years. Our entire complex was even placed under isolation for two weeks. We could not go in or out, although we were thankfully provided with food parcels every two days. We were grateful for that small mercy. Other places had even stricter regulations, so we were blessed in comparison. Still, tensions sometimes rose, as I witnessed at the gate of our complex. It was a difficult time for everyone. We did eventually contract COVID, though my case was mild. I remember walking near our flat when I suddenly felt hot and began to sneeze. Everyone wore masks, and some still do, but I never did. We also chose not to take the vaccine, trusting the Lord for protection. Everything moved online—school, teaching, church, and meetings all shifted to Zoom. It feels like a distant memory now. When restrictions finally lifted, it was a great relief to return to normal life. The previous year, in 2019, we also lost Helen’s beloved father, Baba. He had his stomach removed due to cancer and gradually became weaker until he passed away in August after a brave fight. One of my favourite memories of him was just before Christmas 2016. We went to eat beef dumplings in town. On the bus home, Bing Crosby’s Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas came on. We quietly sang together. That is how I remember him. He was one of the finest men I have ever met. One day, I will see him again, as he came to trust Christ as his Saviour and Lord later in life. It is never too late to trust Christ. DEVOTIONAL THOUGHT Everything seemed to be going well before 2020. We were even planning to return to the UK. But those plans were suddenly disrupted when COVID-19 arrived. It caught the whole world by surprise. It reminded us that life is fragile and uncertain. We make plans, but God remains in control. As James writes: James 4:13–15 "13 Go to now, ye that say, To day or to morrow we will go into such a city, and continue there a year, and buy and sell, and get gain: 14 Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away. 15 For that ye ought to say, If the Lord will, we shall live, and do this, or that." Life is short. We are only here for a brief time, and we have one life to live. What are you doing with yours? Helen and I are committed to loving and serving our Saviour. That is the best use of life. As Solomon concludes: Ecclesiastes 12:13 "Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man." The offer of salvation is still open—but it will not remain open forever. Hebrews 2:3 "How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation?" One day we will all stand before God. Hebrews 9:27 "It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment:" Death is not the end. Christ has defeated death through His resurrection so that believers can say: 1 Corinthians 15:55–57 "55 O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? 56 The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. 57 But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." Can you say these words? I know I can. https://totallylovedbygod67.cw.center/?utm_source=chatgpt.com