J. E. Modupe Taylor-Pearce writes in, "I Feel Like Executing You Now!"

On January 6, 1999, rebels terrorized Freetown, Sierra Leone, —murdering people, burning houses, and destroying our city. That evening the soldiers demanded that we come out of our houses. I went outside and stood by a gate. My family was terrified.

One rebel took his bayonet and pricked my stomach. "Do you own this house?" he asked.

"Well, I live here," I said.

As they marched me toward the back of my house, I told their colonel, "I am a pastor."

He sneered. "You political pastors!" He pulled out his gun, cocked it, and pressed it against my chest. "I feel like executing you now!"

I smiled and said, "But Jesus loves you. I want you to know the love of God. I want to pray for you."

"March on!" he ordered.

As I opened the door to my house, I gently called, "Darling, we have visitors." I turned to the rebels and said, "Won't you come in?"

My 95-year-old mother, who has Alzheimer's and is our ward, was in the house and came into the room where my wife, Olive, was. The colonel raised his gun. "I will shoot!"

I grabbed his arm and said, "Don't shoot!"

He calmed down, then turned to Olive. "You are one of those political people who think that you are better than others."

She didn't respond, but I said, "I want you to know that Jesus loves you, and I want to pray the Lord's Prayer. Would you mind?"

"Feel free," he said. I quickly prayed. The colonel asked, "Do you have rice?"

Olive brought rice and stew for the colonel and his assistant to eat. I kept telling the colonel about Jesus. He stood there, deep in thought. Then he asked defiantly, "Can your God forgive me? Can you pray to your God to forgive me?"

"Two thousand years from today you and I both will be alive. The question is, 'Where will you be? Will you be in heaven or hell?' Yes, my God is able to forgive you."

The colonel lowered his gun and sat down. "Don't you know that I am responsible for burning houses? If I say, 'That house goes,' it goes. If I say, 'That house stays,' it stays." After a while the colonel got up to leave.

"No, I don't want you to go. I want to pray for you first. What shall I pray for?" I said.

"Pray that I will have a long life and good health," he said.

"Please kneel on the floor in reverence to God," I said. The colonel and is assistant knelt on the floor with the rest of us. I prayed fervently.

Afterward, as the rebels prepared to leave, I said, "We have a Bible study in our home every Monday evening. Join us." Then they left.

The rebel colonel never attended the Bible study. Within a week our street was liberated by the West African Regional Force. I never saw the colonel or his assistant again.

But during the week after the colonel's visit and before the liberation, the rebels returned to do havoc to our house. People told me the colonel had said to the rebels when they came to our house, "You must save that house. Don't burn that one."

I believe that God spared me from death so I may continue to proclaim the gospel. One of the best messages I ever presented was to the colonel and his assistant.