The Evening was regular. The smell of daal and freshly baked roti filled the small, two-place residence exactly where Anwar Masih lived along with his wife and two children. Laughter echoed as his youngest daughter, Sara, recounted a story from college. It had been an easy, sacred moment of peace—an https://thirstyforgodchurch.blogspot.com/2025/09/Help-Christians-in-Pakistan-Stand-with-the-Persecuted.html
A Loved Ones's Cry: The Human Price of Blasphemy Legislation in Pakistan
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