MY ACCOUNT
Jesus didn’t just love deeply — He loved to completion.
To the very end of love.
I’m David Woods, the Director of Ministry Advancement here at Global Christian Relief.
During my recent trip to the field in Nigeria, I witnessed this kind of complete “love to the end of love” up close as I accompanied our point person Father Maurice, who serves 13 IDP (internally displaced persons) camps around Yola.
Father Maurice didn’t stumble into this ministry by accident. Like Jesus preparing for His ultimate act of love, Fr. Maurice had been preparing for this his whole life:
- – As a child, he gathered extra food during times of scarcity to feed his neighbors
- – In seminary, he studied how to support displaced people before displacement became a crisis in Nigeria
- – He spent years building interfaith relationships that proved crucial when crisis hit
In a world where denominational unity is fragile, Father Maurice’s Christ-like service transcends boundaries.
As he serves the 13 camps, he supports every leader and loves every person regardless of background. It’s not just collaborative — it’s truly Christlike.
We visited many of these camps during our time in Yola, where Christians have resettled after fleeing Boko Haram attacks in the north.
I wanted to understand how young people had processed displacement, escape, and tragedy — not just as survivors, but as children whose lives were shattered and reshaped before they had even finished growing up.
I had the pleasure of meeting some of the incredible believers we’ve introduced you to here like Suzanne and Tabitha.
I got to hear Yusef’s testimony. The bond and sacrifice of Yusef’s mother — who carried his injured body on her back to escape Boko Haram — is seared in my memory. What a beautiful picture of loving to the end of love.
The success of Marta, Suzanne’s daughter, who was 9 when they escaped Boko Haram and now runs a sewing business, was so inspiring. In a full circle moment, I bought a dress she made for one of my daughters, a testament to the youth empowerment program she completed thanks to the love of our supporters.
The beautiful future of Esther, who fled Boko Haram when she was 12, gave me so much hope. She now gets to live out the full expression of her faith and influence as a teacher, thanks to the leadership development program our supporters sponsor.
Their stories were both painful and incredible, and I felt honored to encounter the riches of their faith.
But it wasn’t all smiles.
In one camp where we haven’t fully begun our work, we noticed a group of eight children, led by a 10–year-old girl, milling about. It was clear that they were newcomers to the camp.
My first reaction was frustration that no one was stepping up to help these children. Isn’t helping children instinctive?
What I learned broke me more than the question itself: the families in this camp weren’t heartless — they were exhausted. Their suffering had crushed their capacity. There was a stark difference between this camp and the camps we serve.
Extreme suffering doesn’t just take away comfort — it takes away capacity. It dulls instinct. It doesn’t just isolate people from resources — it isolates them from each other.
The children’s arrival to the camp at the same time as ours could only have been orchestrated by God.
The Lord placed a man who is prepared to love to the end of love in these children’s path at the right moment, so his love could create transformation.
Within two days, the children received beds, blankets, soap, and food. Even better, their parents were located.
The love we’re called to doesn’t start in the moment — it starts in the preparation.
Jesus loved this way.
Father Maurice loves this way.
And in every persecuted place we serve, there are others like him: faithful servants already embedded, already trusted, already loving.
Let’s not settle for spontaneous charity or feel-good generosity. Let’s be people who are prepared — by God, by Scripture, by hardship, by prayer — to love like Jesus.
To the end of love.
Because that kind of love — the kind that goes all the way — is the kind that restores hope and keeps hope alive.
Christians in Nigeria face increasing levels of persecution, and over 2 million men, women, and children have been displaced by relentless extremist violence. When you share a monthly, recurring gift with Global Christian Relief, you support suffering believers like the ones I met at the camps with critical aid like beds, safe shelter, food, youth empowerment programs, and more.
