Today I met someone named Barnabas.
Since I had never met a Barnabas before,
I asked him if he was a Christian.

He replied,
“I used to be.
Then I went to a school full of gangsters.
How could I remain Christian?
I got beaten up because it was nerdy to be Christian.”

He laughed as he recalled his teenage years.

“I had to fit in or get beaten up.
People tell me, ‘God is always with you.’
Well, where was He?
He let me get beaten up,” he joked.

His laughter carried something deeper than humour.
It sounded like survival.
Like someone who had learned early in life
that faith comes at a cost.

I did not have an answer for him.
No explanation would have made sense.
No words could rewrite what he endured.

I believe You didn’t abandon him.
Maybe You were silent and unseen but not indifferent
to what he went through.

Teach me not to rush to defend You,
but to learn how to listen.
To honour the wounds people carry.
And to trust that even broken stories
are not beyond Your reach.