My habit, when I crank up my laptop, is to go to the web and meander through all the algorithms created on my behalf to find headlines, which is not all that different from what my dad did with the antiquated hardcopy newspaper. Usually, the perspective of the writer is easily seen in the headline itself. If I sense a bias, I keep going.
Early last week, I was captured by two headlines. They were not related in location or content. But today, while driving, the two bumped into each other, and this two-part blog post is what came out as I contemplated what I had read. The way my mind works often puzzles me.
The first line of one was “More Than 30 Christians Beheaded by Islamic State Affiliate in Mozambique.” It was written on October 11, 2025, by Megan Norris. The article can be found on the Homeland Security website.
Here are the first two paragraphs:
“More than 30 Christians were beheaded in Mozambique in September 2024, with churches and homes burned across multiple villages in the country’s northern provinces, according to a report released by the Middle East Media Research Institute (MEMRI).
The Islamic State Mozambique Province (ISMP), an affiliate of Islamic State, claimed responsibility for the attacks, which primarily targeted the Cabo Delgado and Nampula provinces. MEMRI reported viewing photos released by ISMP showing militants executing civilians and destroying religious structures.”
I read the entire article and then became a little better acquainted with Mozambique. The name alone is fun to say and begs for inquiry. I now know exactly where the country is and a few points of interest.
My soul cried for my brothers and sisters!
Eventually, I continued my perusal of the headlines. I eventually saw a picture that captured my imagination. (That picture heads both the Part 1 and Part 2 blog posts.)
It was taken at the top of the American side of the Niagara River, probably mid-morning of July 19, 1895.
The headline was, “Seven Steps to Survive Niagara Falls.” I read the seven steps, and only the seventh made any sense to me: “Obey the warning signs.”
It is estimated that over a thousand people have gone over the Falls by accident, intentionally, or by stunt. The survival rate for the stunters is 75%. The story I read was about Joseph Avery.
Joseph Avery and two friends had worked feverishly on (1) the construction of a small boat on Goat Island and (2) becoming inebriated. In that fuzzy reality, they finished their work and took a rowboat toward the shore. At some point, the current overpowered their ability to row, and they lost control. Swiftly, the boat banged onto a rock, overturning the craft and throwing the three into the merciless river. Two of the men went over the edge to their deaths without delay. Joseph, however, was delivered onto a log that was stuck fast between two rocks.
He spent over eighteen hours on that log as would-be rescuers made valiant efforts to bring their now sober neighbor off the log and onto the shore. Each of their frantic efforts failed. Joseph’s brother hurried to the site and arrived not long before Joseph lost his grip on the log and followed his two friends over the falls and downstream into eternity.
Here is where these two headlines came together: Those Mozambique believers found themselves in the impossible position of a raging torrent of hatred. They clung to hope as best as they could for as long as they could, trying to survive. But their survival was dependent on them losing their grip on their Savior and clinging to their lives. They didn’t. But they did meet their Savior face to face.
I have never faced such a situation. But I have been in difficult periods of life that seemed to have no way out of impending catastrophe. I can identify with Joseph Avery’s position, at least emotionally. I have made choices that have put me in harm’s way, leaving me out on a log. I have sobered up from selfishness in dire straits. I have come close to losing my grip on hope.
Now, looking back, I celebrate that Jesus did not lose his grip on me. In fact, my past is a source of wonder that settles my current storms and forecasts a future of Kingdom adventure. I pray your history does the same for you.
(This translation may not be familiar.)
“So then, our Honored Chief is not slow in keeping his promise, even if some see it that way. Instead, he is being patient with you. He does not want anyone to come to a bad end. He wants all people to return to the right way of thinking.” (2 Peter 3:9, First Nations Version of the New Testament.)
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