Faith That Holds When the World Breaks The text came at 2:47am. I know the time because I was already awake, staring at the ceiling, praying without words. "Mama, they came again. We are hiding in the bush. Pray for us." I did not sleep after that. I could not. I just lay there, phone in hand, heart pounding, thinking about a family I have never met. A family in a village I have never visited. A family whose only crime is that they bear the name of Jesus. This is Nigeria. This is 2026. This is the reality of our faith. We sing about victory. We shout about breakthrough. We dance on Sunday and post Bible verses on Monday. But somewhere in the Middle Belt, a widow is burying her husband. In a village in Plateau, children are running through the night, barefoot, because gunmen came at midnight. In a displaced persons camp outside Jos, a pastor is preaching to a congregation of people who have lost everything but their faith. This is not a distant story. This is not a headline ...