By definition, we are called homeschoolers, for we learn at home; the kitchen table our hub of discovery. We open pages of words, our vessels for the voyage out into time, nature, beauty and this world. And yet here in this home, but a few steps from where we sleep, we can – if we choose – radically revolutionize the entirety of this spinning world – every single day – if our heart beats like Gustavus’.

We met historical Gustavus one morning after poetry, his sure and steady voice calling across the centuries. A devout Swedish King of the 17^th century, Gustavus’ heart throbbed and bled for the slaughtered lives of his brothers and sisters in the faith throughout the European continent. As Gustavus stood in the great hall of the Diet in Stockholm, passionately addressing his government on May 20, 1630, he anguished for “our religious brethren who sigh for deliverance. With the help of God, they will not have sighed in vain.”

The words of Gustavus’ ardent plea caught in my throat. Nearly 400 years had passed since those words rang out; an ocean and near-light years away. And yet, was there not still a collective sigh escaping from our persecuted brothers and sisters around the globe…at this very moment? I rise every morning, serve breakfast, pray, and begin learning with the children…entirely oblivious, generally apathetic and indifferent to the countless, innumberable cries of imprisoned, oppressed, tortured men and women who do what I do every day: talk to Jesus as Savior and Friend. Even if I had ears and heart to hear, I wasn’t Gustavus. I simply could not abandon spouse and children to deliver my brethren in the faith. While a husband and father, Gustavus was a king. We are simply, merely, a homeschooling family of a half dozen kids and a mom and dad trying and praying to hold it all together.

We turned the page of Gustavus’ story, the children and I watching as Swedish troops waved farewell to hearth and home and sailed for mainland Europe, risking their lives, the only ones they had, so that unknown siblings in God’s family might worship freely. After five wave-tossed weeks at sea, Gustavus and company landed on the coast of Germany. Falling heavily down on the sandy beach, Gustavus led his weary army in prayer, “My Lord and my God, You who rule the winds and the seas, I give You thanks from the depths of my heart. You know, O Lord, I haven’t come for my own glory, but to help Your oppressed church. Protect us and bring us victory in this sacred work.” Standing, Gustavus observed tears in the eyes of his brave men.

Reading the story, my own emotions welled. Our little girl, seated beside me, softly wished, “Too bad we couldn’t go help the oppressed church like that, Mama.”

Gustavus stirred hearts, ancient and present, with truth, “Weep not. Pray to God with all your heart. To pray often is almost to conquer.”

I whispered his words again, “To pray often is almost to conquer.” I looked at the children circling our table, Caleb with face in hands, Hope with intent eyes, Joshua and Levi pressed together, leaning close. We could not go to China. Or Sudan. Or Iran. Our family of eight would never, in all likelihood, step foot in Saudi Arabia where discussing the Bible would toss you in a barren jail cell for 4 years and include a sentence to lashing—750 stinging, biting strokes. We would never fellowship in the dark of a damp underground church, or defend sisters in Christ from a flurry of fists and sticks for singing hymns on Sunday morning. No, we were simple homeschoolers. But might we too go into all the world, freeing the oppressed?

Gustavus echoed across the millennia to our family gathered around the table: “To pray often is almost to conquer.” This family could go. The oppressed church need not sigh in vain: we could pray. Often. Daily. God would hear…does hear. Our prayers would be as going, as conquering, emancipating our persecuted brethren, releasing those held captive to the dark. For greater is He who is in us, than he who is in the world.

We still go no further than out kitchen table each morning. But we go into all the world and battle. “Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock and the door will be opened for you” (Matt. 7:7).

So we ask “Father, today be with Pastor Van Thong, imprisoned in Laos for attending meetings with Western Christians. No one is allowed to visit him Lord and he is being held indefinitely. We cannot go to Laos and implore the government for Pastor Van Thong’s release. But we can pray, Lord, for his comfort, his encouragement, and his glorifying You in all these things. And may Your Spirit and Your good and perfect will reign victorious, Father, in Laos…and all the world over.”

To pray is almost to conquer . This homeschooling family now embarks into all the world, praying freedom—for brothers, and brothers-yet-to-be. Will you join us as Gustavus’ warriors, praying liberty and Light for the world?

With the help of God, let them not sigh in vain.

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For more resources in falling to your knees to be Gustavus’ prayer warriors:

www.achildsgeography.com --- Don’t let the Great Commission be your homeschooling omission—Go into all the world!

www.persecution.org --- Assistance, Awareness and Advocacy for the persecuted and suffering Christian Church

www.prisoneralert.com --- Be alerted of current persecuted and imprisoned prisoners, be made aware of prayer needs, put a face to oppressed brothers and sisters in Christ