The Power of Words - by Liz Carter

Last week I was at New Wine, worshipping among thousands of others in a massive Arena in the Somerset countryside. So many moments through the week spoke deeply to me, but there’s one standout moment, and it is to do with words and worship and how the two are so crucial.

Hea Woo is a Christian woman who comes from North Korea. She shared some of her story with us. When she was small, she’d caught her mother praying with a cross in her hand, and her mother had warned her not to tell anyone, for the penalty for being a Christian in North Korea is imprisonment and often execution. Later on, Hea Woo’s husband and children were converted to Christianity and managed to escape into China. Hea Woo herself also attempted escape but was caught and thrown into a prison camp.

I can hardly believe that in 2018 what she described to us is happening. The torture because of faith, the threat of execution, the sheer terror of it all. But her story from there was one of crazy courage and staggering faith. She sensed that God was asking her to share her faith, but couldn’t imagine how this could be done. There was a huge culture of reporting any wrongdoing, and she knew that speaking of Christ out loud would get her executed. So she said to God that he would have to show her the moments and the people.

She led several women in the camp to faith. But there was nowhere public they could worship together, because they were so closely watched, so they took to meeting in the (unspeakably hideous) toilets and whispering their prayers and their worship songs. Any volume would mean instant consequences. Yet their faith grew and thrived in that forsaken place. Later, she was released and managed to escape to South Korea.

The power of words hit home to me when Hea Woo was talking about her experience of worship in her small church plant in a prison toilet in North Korea. Words which were forbidden and yet deliciously liberating, words which set these women free and bonded them together in glorious hope. Their whispered words brought glimpses of light into their darkness and peace in the greatest suffering we could imagine. Hea Woo said that worship was an incredibly important part of their routine, lifting them from the shadows and always turning them to Jesus. Wow!

After this talk, we sang Amazing Grace, which is Hea Woo’s favourite hymn. We were asked to sing it in whispers for the first four verses, then louder for the final verse, and use it as an act of prayer for those ‘secret Christians’ in North Korea today. As we whispered these beautiful words, Hea Woo’s voice could be heard over the other 6,000 of us, singing loud and clear of her love for her Saviour. I don’t think there was a dry eye to be seen at this point – I can’t capture in words what a worshipful experience this was, speaking to the depths of our souls. And then the final verse – oh, that final verse – to say we raised the roof is an understatement. We blew it right off and then some:

When we’ve been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we’d first begun.

I’m sure the whole county of Somerset must have heard these 6,000 Christians belting out these words of truth and power, and somewhere in the middle a brave North Korean woman stood, her face radiant with hope and with joy.

And I imagined all those other thousands of secret Christians, in North Korea and elsewhere, screaming out that verse in their minds and in their whispers, holding to the hope of those shining thousands of years ahead, the prize of glory they are reaching for.

I was in tiny little bits.

But this is why I write. This is where it all comes from. This is who it’s for. It’s for communicating with words the power of God’s dazzling hope, for now and for eternity. I wish my words were more powerful; I wish I could do God more justice. I wish I was as brave as Hea Woo. I’m fortunate enough to live in a place where I will not be imprisoned and executed, and yet I sometimes keep the words at a whisper. I sometimes forget the privilege of freedom in the struggle to be liked.

From now, I’ll remind myself of the reality for some of my brothers and sisters around the world. I’ll appreciate the power of words and the freedom we have. And I’ll hold them before me, those whispering courageous ones, hold them to God and ask that his presence and power surround them and hold them tight.

Father

When I feel weak

May I find my strength in you.

When I lack courage

Speak your great lion-roar to my heart

And fill me with your power.

May I speak of your love

Write of your grace

Sing of your praise, in whispers and in shouts,

And may I know, most of all, the glorious hope to which you have called me.

Amen.

Liz Carter is a writer and blogger who likes to write about the more painful times of life and how God is in the midst. Her first book will be published on November 15th by IVP: Catching Contentment. 


You can pre-order it here. 

Photo by Daniel Mingook Kim on Unsplash