I would call Vira’s faith humble and persistent rather than judgmental or abrasive. I appreciate her simple yet rich faith, her pure trust in the Lord, which is the product of being raised by missionary parents. It was Vira who took my hand when I was in my late twenties and told me that I should never lose hope. And it was Vira who helped me see for the first time that Christianity still breathes… 

In Vira’s own words:

“The faith of my great grand-parents who died in a concentration camp for being believers in God has taken its roots. Faith which has been tested by fire set an example for my walk with God.

As one who grew up in a missionary family, I always saw how God worked and answered people’s prayers. At the age of twelve, I received Jesus as my own personal Savior, but it was not until later that my faith needed an action. It was not until I became an adult when I had to make my own decisions about time, career and ministry that I realized that my faith requires sacrifice.

Today, I might not be in a concentration camp where I am tortured, but I constantly battle between choosing time for God, success and money. In my struggle, I realize that God does not seek my perfection. He seeks my willingness to be used as I am for His Glory and let Him shine through His perfection, not mine. I know that battle will still go on as I remember that where my treasure is, my heart is. I want to spend my time where Jesus would spend it, helping orphans, widowed and people with special needs.”

Vira