Light In the Line of Fire :: By Bill Wilson

Christian persecution in West Africa is no longer a fringe concern; it is an accelerating crisis.

In recent reporting, President Donald Trump has again drawn global attention to Nigeria, warning that Christians there face what he described as an ”existential threat.” He pointed to repeated massacres, burned villages, and the targeting of believers by Islamist extremists, arguing that the world has grown numb to violence that is clearly religious in nature.

His comments followed years of warnings during his presidency, when Nigeria was designated a Country of Particular Concern for religious freedom abuses. Notwithstanding, the killing has not slowed. It has spread.

What makes Nigeria especially dangerous is that ideology, land, and power have fused. Boko Haram splinter groups and radicalized Fulani militants operate with overlapping goals, displacing Christian farming communities while asserting dominance through terror. Villages are attacked at night. Families are slaughtered in their homes. Churches are burned or abandoned.

While Nigeria’s government insists the violence is not religiously targeted, the pattern is unmistakable on the ground. Christian communities in Nigeria’s Middle Belt and north-central regions continue to absorb the brunt of the bloodshed. These attacks are not isolated events but part of a sustained pressure campaign that has hollowed out entire regions once anchored by vibrant Christian life.

That same pressure has crossed borders into Ghana, including Bosuafise, where we have ministered alongside a sister church for nearly 30 years. There, persecution has taken a quieter but no less destructive form. Muslims have illegally seized all the land surrounding the church, right up to its walls, stripping away topsoil and selling it overseas. Every legal attempt to stop it has been stalled in courts tied up by political influence, where elected Muslim officials have appointed allies who ensure cases go nowhere.

When I have preached there, intimidation has been overt, with motorcycles roaring past the church and riders carrying machetes to make their presence known. This is Nigeria’s pattern, adapted for Ghana.

Yet persecution has not had the final word. I have watched the Bosuafise church grow from 30 to 60, fall back below 30 under aggressive Islamic pressure, then slowly rise again. In recent weeks, revival has broken out. People throughout the area are coming, 60, then 100, then 125, now nearing 200, seeking the Lord. What was meant to crush faith has refined it.

Genesis 50:20 speaks plainly to moments like this: “But as for you, you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, in order to bring it about as it is this day, to save many people alive.”

May Bosuafise stand as a testimony that Christ’s light shines brightest under pressure. And may we pray for the persecuted church in Bosuafise and those like it around the world.

Islam is not a religion of peace, but rather an arm of Satan.

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Democratic Party Fundraising Off a Drug Kingpin’s Capture :: By Bill Wilson

The news should have landed with near-universal relief. A foreign drug kingpin, whose cartel activity has fueled death, addiction, and instability that spills directly into American communities, was captured in a swift, precise operation ordered by the President of the United States.

The arrest of Nicolás Maduro, long accused of turning a sovereign nation into a narco-state, represents one of the most efficient law-enforcement actions against a cartel-linked regime in modern history.

Regardless of party, most Americans instinctively understand that this means fewer drugs crossing borders. Fewer criminal networks. Fewer lives destroyed by fentanyl and cocaine that originate far from bad actors and end up in our streets.

What followed, however, should trouble anyone paying attention. Instead of bipartisan recognition that removing a cartel leader is a net good for public safety, the Democratic Party responded with outrage and protest.

Even more disturbing, party committees and aligned groups used their opposition to the capture as a fundraising tool. Emails and appeals were sent asking supporters to donate in protest of the operation.

That choice turns a national security victory into a political grievance and treats the dismantling of a criminal enterprise as a campaign opportunity. For families who have buried loved ones lost to drugs tied to international cartels, this response feels a terrible slap in the face.

This moment reveals something deeper about the modern Democratic Party. Opposition to Donald Trump has become so central that even actions which weaken violent criminal networks are framed as unacceptable if they produce a political win for the wrong man.

Oversight questions and constitutional concerns can be raised without reflexively condemning the outcome. Yet that balance was largely absent. Instead, partisan posture replaced moral clarity. When the capture of a drug kingpin is not celebrated but monetized as a grievance, it suggests a party more committed to resistance than to results, and more invested in narrative control than in public safety.

Scripture offers a steady lens for moments like this. Government exists, in part, to restrain evil and protect the innocent. When evil is confronted and justice advanced, the response should be sober approval, not opportunistic outrage.

Americans should ask hard questions about what it means when one of our two major political parties reacts to the removal of a violent criminal figure by rallying donors against it.

Politics will always be with us. But justice, the kind that defends communities from destruction and holds the wicked to account, should never be treated as a fundraising tactic.

Proverbs 21:15 says, “When justice is done, it is a joy to the righteous, but terror to evildoers.”

So many layers of this play out with Maduro and the Democrats trying to raise money like his capture is the poster child for some sort of injustice.

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