There is a winding and bumpy back road that leads to Michael Dut’s church. Bushes and low-hanging trees line the way, and clouds of dust form as bicycles creak by.

The road continues for a while, until a small outcropping of mud huts appears near the towering structure of a new cement church. A steel cross is perched on the roof, glistening in the intense Sudanese sun, serving as an unmistakable beacon high above the village.




Several men are hard at work, moving beams and measuring wood. Their sun-faded blue Samaritan’s Purse jumpsuits signify they belong to the Church Reconstruction Project crew, working in unison to prepare a brand new church for the community of Pariak in South Sudan.

Samaritan’s Purse came here as part of our program to rebuild churches destroyed during Sudan’s long-running war. We have completed 430, and several more are under construction, including this one.

On this day, Michael is leading a group of villagers who are helping clear the way to carry the building supplies into the church.




Michael moves out of the afternoon heat into the temporary relief of a grass hut, the current meeting place for his church. His tall frame ducks under the roof and into the open space. He sits on a straw chair and crosses his legs.

A gap between his front teeth appears as he flashes an endearing smile. His forehead bears the markings of his Dinka heritage, orderly pinpricks cut into his forehead at a young age that have scarred and now identify him by his tribe.

Michael’s eyes gleam with emotion as he shares the history of his journey, and his church.

“At the time of the war, some 10 years ago, the enemy came and burned the church,” he said. “They wanted to destroy anything that had meaning. They came to destroy and left us for dead. Everyone had to leave, I didn’t want to.”

His voice begins to quiver. “But I had to go, so I left for seven years. I fled for that time. Everyone had left.”

He shifts in his chair.

“Slowly, the people started coming back. The church was gone, there was piles of nothing in its place. Those of us who had returned decided that we must still worship, for God had saved us. What else could we do? So we met under the trees.”

He pauses and leans his body forward to point to the patch of trees just outside the hut.

“We were afraid for a while to build, because we thought it would get burned down again. So we just met under the trees, hundreds of us. Being a victim of attack made us fearful. We could never fully feel at peace,” he says shaking his head.

“Before we fled, the church had maybe 300 people. Now there is close to 700. Samaritan’s Purse came and found us, and cared about our story.”

Michael reaches for his Bible.

“They are giving us the gift of a new place of worship and they are teaching us to study the word of God,” he said. “And now, we won’t have to build again. We have rebuilt so much. At least we know, no matter what, this place will remain.”

He pauses and looks up, closing his eyes as if to thank God quietly for a moment.

“People from all over come here, they see we are building a new church. More people want to know about God after the war. Many have unanswered questions, and they want to believe in good again.” His eyes moisten. “I want to help them believe in good again.”

His words are filled with sincerity and love for his people, for what they endured, for what he endured. He gets up to go back outside. He proudly points around him as he walks toward the church. “All of this is like God’s word. Unshakable.”




He walks into the church and his fellow villagers gather around him. He smiles as he lifts his hands to the sky. As if on cue, a beam of light finds its way in and illuminates the space, serving as appropriate symbolism of the hope and stability that has been given to this community.

“I give thanks for Samaritan’s Purse,” he said with gratitude in his voice. “Our village is now learning about God. I am happy and we are at peace. What could be better?”

Samaritan's Purse , Sudan , Sudan Churches Project , Believing in Good Again