In this part of the world people use code names.
When in public, in the company of strangers, over the phone or even in emails the real thing is never said. Sensitive names of people, places or organisations are all coded (the above title is an example of what our codename would look like).
Just yesterday we heard of a South African who was told to go for a routine police check. When he got there he was handcuffed and flown to England with a Not allowed back in Morocco stamp in his passport. His wife and children still in the country.
They are now back in SA. Unable to ever return.
The reality of persecution is very real here. With foreigners the worst they could do is the above.
But with nationals it is a whole different story. For them corporal punishment, imprisonment and the likes are an unavoidable reality.
Still the Moroccon house churches meet weekly- all over the country. Shifting from house to house and suburb to suburb to not attract to much attention.
It's very difficult to visit any of those meetings as a stranger, but with a little bit of God's grace and after asking very nicely, I got to go to one in one of the cities we visited.
I didn't understand a word of the Derija (the Moroccon Arabic dialect) but it was a tremendous experience to see woman and children, fathers and young people- all Moroccons- worshipping Christ and sharing the Word.
We need to pray for the house churches in this country. That they will spread like wildfire and one day come to a place where they can boldly say who they are without fear or shame.
Guava Chilli out.
Willem