#Thailand #Burma #HumanTrafficking #Children #Worship #Refugee #Grace #Homeless #Village #Miracle #HolySpirit #Savior #Faith #School #Gospel #Testimonies #Heal #Pray
Author Li Deng
Worship God，Love writing，Published a poetry collection (Soaring Through Poetry: 飞翔的乐章 (Chinese Edition): Haining, Li: 9798330207374: Amazon.com: Books)
As the film "Sound of Freedom," which portrays the grim reality of child trafficking, premiered on the Fourth of July, our mission team set out on a journey to Mae Sot, a town that lies on the border between Thailand and Myanmar. Across the narrow river, Myanmar—unfortunate and war-torn for seven decades—has become a breeding ground for crime and suffering, which has in turn transformed Mae Sot into one of the largest hubs of human trafficking in the world.
Our small but determined group consisted of my husband and me, four single brothers and sisters in Christ, a leading couple, and their three young children. Upon hearing of the film’s release, we rejoiced—God was clearly guiding His people to stand against the evil that has taken root across the world.
The Trafficked Children of Myanmar in Thailand
As we entered the busy, chaotic marketplace at the border of Mae Sot, we were immediately approached by four young boys, no older than seven or eight, begging for money. One of our team members, moved by compassion, bought them some food, only to see them quickly exchange it for cash—an exchange that felt unsettling. Our translators, fluent in both Thai and Burmese, quickly sensed something was wrong. After carefully questioning the boys, they discovered that these children had been trafficked from Myanmar and were being controlled by unknown figures to beg for money. The process of rescuing them would be complicated and difficult, involving negotiations with authorities from both nations.
Fortunately, our translators were more than just linguists—they were members of Life Impact International, an organization with a long and successful history of fighting against child trafficking and exploitation. That Friday evening, we were invited to visit “The Promised Land,” a sanctuary for rescued children.
This 25-acre campus, with its green lawns and gently swaying trees, radiated peace, as if heaven had touched the earth. The rescued children, mostly in their early teens, entered the auditorium with quiet reverence, their faces glowing with smiles as they greeted us in Thai, “Sawadee ka,” or in Burmese, “Mingalaba.”
The worship team, standing on the stage, began to play, and over a hundred voices rose in unison. These young souls, once trapped in darkness, now sang with joy, their faces bright with the light of salvation. Some were so happy that they couldn’t help but jump into the air, expressing their joy with every part of their being. “Way maker, miracle worker, promise keeper, light in the darkness, my God, that is who you are…”
As I listened to their heartfelt praises, I was overcome with emotion, tears streaming down my face. It was hard to believe that these were the same children who had been crushed under the weight of forced labor, their innocence stolen by the cruelty of the world. I remembered the final scene in "Sound of Freedom," where the rescued girl returns home, beating her drum and singing her song of freedom. But tonight, it wasn’t just one girl—it was over a hundred voices, all singing in joyful harmony.
The road to healing for these trafficked children is long and difficult. Life Impact International not only rescues these children from the jaws of evil but also provides them with a new home, where they can learn about Jesus, bask in His love, and be reborn.
Our team leader, a faithful servant of God who had spent twenty years as a missionary abroad, was invited to preach that night. Drawing from Ephesians 6, he encouraged the young brothers and sisters to “put on the full armor of God.” After finishing, he invited those needing prayer to raise their hands. My husband and I approached a young sister who had her hand raised. As we prayed for her, asking the Lord to comfort and protect her heart, I felt her body tremble beneath my hand, as if her very soul had been stirred. When I opened my eyes after the prayer, I saw tears streaming down her delicate face. After the service, she sought us out to thank us. Although her English was limited, making it difficult for her to fully understand our prayer, there was no doubt in my mind that the Holy Spirit had been at work within her.
Restoring Childhood: The Power of Miracles
On Saturday evening, our team returned to “The Promised Land” for another worship service, this time with a different group of young people—about forty in total, most of whom appeared to be adults. The wife of our team leader shared a message, telling the story of Jesus turning water into wine at the wedding in Cana. She emphasized the close relationship between Mary and Jesus that made the miracle possible, encouraging everyone to draw nearer to the Lord. The evening was once again filled with joyful songs, flowing with the grace of God.
Our journey also brought us to Devine Christian School, a refuge for refugee children founded by Pastor David, a former refugee from Myanmar himself. Called by God to be a pastor, Pastor David was moved to action when he saw the refugee children working in the fields, deprived of education, with no future and no hope. Ten years ago, he opened this school, now serving nearly three hundred students from kindergarten to the 11th grade, including seventy-three homeless children.
At ten o'clock that morning, the students, dressed in green uniforms, were led by their teachers into the school in orderly lines, taking their seats on the floor. A sister from our team and I stood on the stage to lead the children singing Sunday school songs. The atmosphere was electric, with everyone—students and teachers alike—joyfully singing and dancing along.
Our team leader then preached the gospel, beginning with the creation story in Genesis and leading the children through the story of Jesus’ birth and death. The adults and children in our group worked together to perform a spontaneous skit, with the leader’s ten-year-old son taking on the role of “director,” his creativity shining through. He assigned roles to various “creations”—mountains, trees, fish, elephants, and birds—each of which appeared to the delight of the children, who couldn’t stop laughing.
When our leader asked who wanted to accept Jesus as their Savior, a sea of small hands shot up in unison.
During lunch, Pastor David gave us a tour of the school. The classrooms were simple and modest, with old and worn desks, chairs, and blackboards.
I asked Pastor David about the school’s situation. He explained that the school received no government funding and relied entirely on donations from Christians. As the number of students continued to rise, there was a growing shortage of funds for food, textbooks, and uniforms. The annual rent had risen to 12,000 Thai Baht—a significant burden for the school. Later, our team made a donation to support the school in its mission.
After lunch, the girls gathered in small groups along the corridors or in the classrooms, chatting and laughing, while the boys headed to the playground to play soccer, their joyful laughter ringing out as they ran through the dust. I tried to converse with the children, and when I asked about their studies, one girl proudly showed me her exercise book. Although I couldn’t understand the Thai script she had written, her pride in her work was clear. It was deeply moving to see these children, who had grown up in the shadow of war, now enjoying the simple, joyful life of childhood in this peaceful place.
“Numbers have a price, but love is priceless; money is limited, but faith knows no bounds.” This school, in its humble way, is nothing short of a miracle.
The Unfolding of God’s Wonders
The relentless war in Myanmar has driven waves of refugees into Thailand, their makeshift villages scattered along the border like seeds cast upon the wind.
The village we visited was surrounded by green rice paddies, its fragile huts looking as though they could barely withstand the elements. At the entrance of the village stood a large tree, its branches heavy with leaves, resembling the protective hand of God, inviting the weary to find rest beneath its shade. Women with babies in their arms, men with labor-hardened hands, and elders cradling their grandchildren all sat cross-legged on a large plastic sheet beneath the tree.
A sister from our team and I had prepared two children’s songs to teach to the village’s youth, but to our surprise, the adults joined in as well, their faces alight with joy, singing even more enthusiastically than the children: “Praise Him, praise Him, all ye little children, God is love…”
After the singing, our leader preached the gospel, using the parable of the house builders from Matthew 7 to convey the message. The rest of us performed a skit to illustrate the sermon: two people played the builders, two others the houses—one set upon the rock, the other on the sand—while two more acted as the wind and rain. As the “wind and rain” raged, the “house” that my husband and I had built stood firm, its foundation unshaken.
The villagers, who understood all too well the value of a strong home, having lost their own, responded with laughter and applause.
Next came the sharing of personal testimonies. A sixty-year-old brother from our team recounted his past life, which had been dominated by addiction to drugs and alcohol. He testified that it was Jesus who had given him the strength to break free from his destructive habits. The love and acceptance he found within the church community had transformed him, filling his heart with joy. He showed the villagers a photograph from ten years earlier, showing a face hardened by the bitterness of life, a face that looked almost like that of a prisoner. The difference between the person he had been and the man he had become—a kind, gentle soul—was nothing short of miraculous.
When our leader invited the villagers to accept Christ, every hand was raised, signaling their desire for salvation. Then, in the midst of this moment of grace, another miracle occurred. We prayed for an elderly woman suffering from severe neck pain, and her pain vanished instantly! Her daughter, seeing this, asked us to pray for her own neck pain. Our leader invited the elderly woman to join us in prayer, and her daughter was healed as well!
As word of these miracles spread, more villagers approached us, asking for prayers for their ailments. Those healed joined us in praying for others, and everyone who asked for healing was miraculously cured. The villagers, their faith strengthened by what they had witnessed, realized that it was not our team that held the power, but the Holy Spirit working through us. By embracing Jesus, they too could experience this divine power.
Not far away, a woman laboring in the rice fields saw what was happening in the village. She approached us, asking for prayer for her back pain. The villagers gathered around her, their voices raised in fervent prayer, and her pain disappeared on the spot!
Our translator informed us that this woman was from a neighboring village, one that had long harbored animosity towards the villagers here. But now, the love of Jesus had dissolved this hostility. Several villagers accompanied the woman back to her village, preparing a meal for her. The gospel, carried on the wings of love, was poised to spread to the neighboring village. In just two hours, this village had not only found salvation but had also begun to spread the good news!
In this village, just two kilometers from the border, the distant echoes of gunfire and explosions could still be heard. The refugees, having fled the horrors of war, continued to live under its shadow, their lives marked by scarcity and deprivation. Medical care was almost nonexistent, and their spiritual hunger was profound. Yet, in their midst, God revealed His boundless love, performing miracles that exceeded our wildest expectations.
Sadly, we had to leave to visit another village. With heavy hearts, we bid farewell to the villagers. After a brief lunch break of no more than half an hour, we arrived at another village, nestled beside a banana plantation. Here, the local pastor had organized a women’s Bible study group, and the four sisters from our team were invited to join. The group consisted of women of varying ages, from their twenties to their seventies, sitting cross-legged under the shade of a large tree.
Before setting out on this mission journey, our team members had undergone cross-cultural mission training, lasting from three to nine months. One of the lessons was learning the art of storytelling. In missions, it is not always the impassioned sermons that reach the heart; often, it is the simple recounting of one’s own experiences that resonates most deeply.
The women were visibly moved by the testimonies shared by our four sisters. As we prayed for them, another miracle unfolded. A middle-aged woman, who had been unable to lift her left arm due to pain, was healed after we laid hands on her and prayed. She excitedly waved her arm up and down, much to the astonishment of the villagers around her. Another woman’s husband then approached us, asking for prayer for his knee pain. After we prayed, he rode off on a bicycle, returning shortly with four bottles of ice-cold water. We were deeply touched by his gesture, yet hesitant to accept, knowing from our translator that he had no job and no income. However, the translator insisted that we accept it, explaining that this was his way of expressing his gratitude.
The Hell of Northern Myanmar
After bidding farewell to these villagers, we joined our brothers from the team to visit one final household near the banana plantation.
The man of the house worked on the plantation by day and spent his nights drinking heavily, often returning home drunk and abusing his wife and children. The brothers shared the gospel with him, while we sisters spoke with his wife, who had already embraced the faith. She was deeply moved by our visit, tears streaming down her face as she recounted her journey of faith. We embraced her and prayed for her. Before we left, God’s grace touched the household—the husband, once a drunken brute, repented and accepted Christ!
It is worth noting that this family’s home was situated by the river, across which loomed the infamous red-roofed building on the Myanmar side, the notorious telecom fraud center that had recently gained notoriety in China as the “hell of northern Myanmar.” One of the main objectives of our mission to Mae Sot was to locate this den of evil, to proclaim God’s authority over it, to denounce the wickedness within, and to call for God’s judgment.
Three days after we had prayed, the news broke that the Thai government had decided to cut off internet access to that so-called industrial park—a development that filled us with joy and gratitude to God!
Under the Father’s Wings, Following the Apostles’ Footsteps
The five days we spent in Mae Sot were just one part of our seventeen-day mission journey. From Chiang Mai to Lampang, to Mae Sot, and back to Chiang Mai, it felt as though we were traveling under the protective wings of our Heavenly Father. Because He first loved us, we were able to extend that love to the Thai villagers and Burmese refugees, people we had never met and with whom we could not even share a common language.
The heat was intense, but the fire within our hearts burned even hotter with passion for the mission. I caught a glimpse of what it must have been like for the apostles as they carried out the Great Commission, witnessing firsthand the quiet, unassuming labor of God’s children, yielding sweet fruit that inspired and encouraged us to continue our work.
“The disciples went out and preached everywhere, and the Lord worked with them and confirmed His word by the signs that accompanied it.” (Mark 16:19). The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few—let us rise quickly and follow in the footsteps of the apostles, whose journey was paved with the beautiful feet of those who bring good news!
Note: Should any reader feel moved to support Devine Christian School, you may contact Pastor David directly at Sawdavid027@gmail.com.
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