The lives of Javier and Pilar Forero could have been the subject of envy.
He was a successful dentist who had gone into business with a chain of jewelry stores in their hometown of Bogota, Colombia. She had just received her university degree and looked forward to a professional career as an interior designer. Their young son, Mateo, had just begun to attend school. They were involved in a growing evangelical church, where Javier also served as youth pastor.
Life was good. But all that changed in 2001 when guerrillas kidnapped Javier at gunpoint and held him captive in the jungle for 17 hours. Released after he agreed to pay what he calls a monthly “war tax” of $40,000, he went directly to the police, only to learn that they couldn’t protect him.
The couple spent the next two months living in fear, knowing they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, pay the demanded money. They moved their office into their home. They sold many of their possessions. One afternoon, Javier picked up Mateo at school and drove to meet Pilar for dinner.
An SUV forced him off the road and he found himself face-to-face with four men holding machine guns.
“They told me, ‘you have to pay us,'” recalls Javier, who is now co-pastor at Iglesia Communal La Espranza, a Grace Brethren church that meets in Valrico, Fla. They threatened to kill Mateo, who had been sleeping in the back seat, if they weren’t paid.
But at that moment, the driver of the SUV called to his companions. Javier remembers the words piercing the air from the portable radio on the belt of the gunman who stood outside his car door.
“The police are coming. The police are coming. Let’s get out of here.” With that the guerrillas were gone. But Javier realized that life as the couple knew it was going to change.
“I knew that to protect my family we had to leave the country,” he told the Tampa (Fla.) Tribune in 2003. “I was tired of living in fear for my family. You never know when or where violence is going to strike; that’s no way to live.”
That afternoon – he remembers it was about two on a Thursday – he bought three tickets to Miami and the family went into hiding at his grandmother’s house. At 5 a.m. the following Monday, they were at the airport, bound for Florida. “We didn’t have family, friends, or anybody here,” he remembers. “We just came.”
The days of the spacious home, the luxury cars, and affluent lifestyle were gone. They first found temporary shelter in the Tampa home of a brother of a friend. They got jobs driving cars and cleaning restrooms at the Tampa airport – working long hours for little or no pay. They rented their own apartment. It wasn’t the life they had enjoyed in Colombia, but it was a safe one.
No Regrets
“We may not be as comfortable here as we were back home, but I’ve never regretted our decision,” Pilar told the Tampa Tribune.
They found the Iglesia Comunal Cristiana, an Hispanic Grace Brethren church led by Pastor Gerardo Leiton. It was a sanctuary for the young family who felt like they had lost so much. “God brought us to the Tampa church to love and be loved,” remembers Pilar, “and to restore our lives.”
Because of their previous youth ministry experience in Colombia, they began to work closely with Pastor Gerardo in developing a program for young people in Tampa. They also met Jesus Munoz, a Grace Brethren church planter. “He’s been like a father to us,” says Javier.
Four years ago, Pastor Jesus asked them to move to the Brandon-Valrico area, an area east of Tampa, to help begin a new church. “He came to work with me to learn to be a pastor and a church planter,” recalls Jesus, who is continuing to serve as pastor of the church while beginning other Spanish-speaking churches.
Today, in addition to serving at Iglesia Communal La Espranza (Hope Community Church), Javier works part-time for a landscaping company. Pilar teaches pre-school. Mateo, now a typical American boy, is a middle-schooler. The family expanded in 2003 when Abbie was born. She is now in Kindergarten.
It’s a far cry from what they knew in Bogota, but their enthusiasm for the life to which God has called them is contagious. Their young church is bursting at the seams. In fact, the congregation has practically outgrown its rented meeting space.
“Ninety-five percent of our church [members and attenders] are new believers,” says Javier. He counts at least 305 people who have accepted Christ as Savior in the years they have been in the Brandon area. But the realities of working with an immigrant population make it difficult to develop a stable church.
“We have people who live in the area for awhile, then they move [to another state] because they are seasonal workers,” says Pilar. Others may not have proper documentation to remain in the U.S., so they return to their home country.
Yet the need for a Bible-teaching church in the Hispanic community is great. The pressures found in the rest of American society are just as prevalent among Spanish-speaking immigrants. Divorce, drug abuse, and blended families, coupled with the stresses of everyday living, are common.
“We have to do the most we can to help them find the Lord,” says Javier.
They try to model godly relationships in their home. “The most important [thing] for us is first, the Lord, and second, the family,” says Javier.
An American Congregation
Another reality is that the congregation at La Esperanza is not just Hispanic – it is American, according to Javier. While its members come from a variety of countries in Central and Latin America for as many different reasons, the fact is that many cannot go home. Their children have adapted quickly to American culture, even to the point of not speaking much Spanish.
“They (the children) love this country; they belong to this culture,” says Javier. “When they grow up, they are going to look for an American church.”
For that reason, children’s classes at La Esperanza are taught in English. English translation is also provided during the worship service, which usually is conducted in Spanish, and Javier teaches a Bible class in English, even though he admits it is difficult.
“If anybody can listen to my accent, they can figure it out,” he says with a laugh. “But we have to do it. We have people who are hungry [for God’s word]. We can’t say, ‘Oh, I don’t speak fluently. I can’t do it.'”
The Foreros rarely look back on the life they once had. “We lost everything in Colombia,” says Pilar. “Every change in life is God’s will.”
Click here to pray for Javier and Pilar Forero and Iglesia Communal La Espranza.