Something felt wrong. Our driver cautiously pulled our truck to the side of the lonely dirt road. Around us the forest pressed in; all was eerily quiet. Thus far, we had been the only vehicle on in this remote stretch of road, but up ahead, through some branches, we can see the outline of a car—parked across our path. Have we been discovered?

I came to South Korea to meet with a group of people risking their lives to rescue North Korean Christians. Just a few short hours after landing I was running. Around me, Koreans were pounding the pavement as well, their legs moving as fast as their lungs enabled. We were running hard...for exercise. Thankfully, nobody was chasing.

Nathan narrowly dodged another rock as it whizzed past his head, still perplexed by his hostile reception. It was no time to think, however, but run—his adversaries were picking up more rocks.

Eli walked home, head and shoulders drooped in despair. The North Korean government, headed by a man-deity whom Eli was lead to believe would always provide, had abandoned him in his time of greatest need. Looking at his military uniform, worn from years of faithful service, Eli wondered if it really had been all for nothing.

My name is Kyan. I’m 45 years old. I have a wife and two children. That may not interest you, nor will my lowly day job…but perhaps my part-time work will. You see, I’m a smuggler for the underground church in North Korea. In 2007, I began illegally crossing the border of North Korea into China to find food for my family, just like many other desperate families have to do. During my visits, I met kind Christians who helped me gather the supplies I came searching for. They also invited me to attend their secret worship services where I met Jesus Christ. My new friends even opened a safe house near the border where those like me could be discipled in our new faith.