As Victor shared his story with me, I could almost feel the weight of every moment he lived through in those difficult days in Chicualacuala.

He told me that Sunday had ended quietly, the sky already dark, and he and his friend Belarmino had just returned home after a long day of work. While Belarmino cooked over a small charcoal stove, Victor sat down to finish his report.

Then his phone vibrated—two voice messages from Mr. Félix.

Victor pressed play.

“Brother Victor, please look for another place to hold the services. My pastors called me. They are questioning me. Even my children stopped going to church. It looks like there are two ministries in my home. I should not have opened my doors to you. Please, stop coming. I don’t want problems.”

Victor told me he froze. His heart sank. He stopped typing and bowed his head in prayer, entrusting everything to God.
Belarmino noticed. “What happened, Victor?”

After Victor explained, they prayed together.

Victor kept calm and replied gently to Mr. Félix, thanking him for the time they had spent in his home and blessing his family.

But the next morning, another message arrived: “Brother Victor. Pray for me. This decision is hurting me. I am not at peace.”

Victor continued praying. He contacted the families who attended the Sabbath meetings and began searching for another place. Yet he confessed to me that, in his heart, a question echoed: Lord, why now?

Then, on Friday night, everything changed.

A new message arrived from Mr. Félix: “Brother Victor. I made a mistake. Continue the services. This house is yours. I will not follow the will of men, but the will of God.”

As Victor told me this part, his eyes filled with tears. “At the last moment, God reopened the door that fear had closed.”

And I could only praise God with him, because every victory—as Victor reminded me—belongs to the Lord alone.

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