Joo Min's secret ministry in North Korea

Joo Min crouched by the riverbank, waiting until the guard passed her. She could see him picking out his steps, his machine gun swinging in time with his walk. 

At last, the guard walked over the horizon and the coast was clear. Joo Min quietly crept from her hiding place, thankful the moon provided just enough light for her to carefully make her way to the water. 
All she had to do was cross the river and she’d be out of North Korea. She hoped the opposite side would have food and a way to provide for her family. 

But she didn’t know that something else was waiting for her too. Something that would change her life. 
 

An education of hatred

 Joo Min (see note below about Joo Min's identity) was born and raised in North Korea. Her childhood was spent going to school, with parents who were assigned jobs and given food, clothing and housing by the North Korean government, which at that time was led by Kim Il-Sung. When she was young, it was sometimes difficult for her family to find enough food to eat, but they managed to survive.

In school, Joo Min learned discipline and that she was part of the greatest society and country in the world. She studied the philosophy of self-reliance (Juche) that governs all of North Korean society. She learned about the exploits of North Korea’s founder, Kim Il-Sung, hearing instruction on how the Great Leader had defeated the Japanese invaders after World War II and helped create the modern state of North Korea. Joo Min also learned how his son, Kim Jong-Il (also known as Dear Leader), was born under a double rainbow and his birth made winter turn to spring. Like her classmates, Joo Min regarded North Korea’s leaders as near-gods, the only ones worthy of her worship and affection. She learned a song popular with North Korean children, loudly singing: “We have nothing to envy in this world.” 

Joo Min also learned about the dangerous enemies of North Korea. She knew that South Korea was a puppet of the United States[AK1] [RH2] , the most wicked country of all. She and other students drew pictures that showed American soldiers being killed in graphic detail. 

She also heard about other wicked people who were bent on the destruction of her nation. “I was told to stay away from the Bible and missionaries,” she remembers. “They said missionaries were like wolves pretending to be sheep.” Her textbooks proved this, relaying stories of missionaries who were secretly American spies, sent to their country to kidnap children and sell them into slavery. 

But this was normal life in North Korea. It wasn’t until she got older that things took a serious turn. 
 

‘Living was a daily struggle’

 In the mid-1990s, North Korea began what it officially called the “Arduous March.” This was an intense call to solidarity in the face of what would become a massive famine. Exact numbers are unknown, but it’s estimated that up to 3 million people died due to lack of food and basic supplies. 

Joo Min and her family felt this reality firsthand. They struggled to find food, and gnawing hunger became a daily occurrence. 

Things grew even worse for Joo Min when her mother died—and her father’s behavior took a new, dangerous turn. Her father had always drunk a lot, but he became totally consumed by alcoholism. 
  “When I was young, my father’s alcoholism led to violence,” she says. “I was in constant fear. Living was a daily struggle.” It got even worse when her father brought his new girlfriend and their two children to live with them. Joo Min would listen for the telltale signs of his drunken rage and leave the house whenever she could. When she couldn’t, she was beaten.

Her father began to blame her for their lack of food. His alcoholism meant he couldn’t provide even the meager amount to feed his family that was available from black markets or local farmers that illegally sold some crops. “During those turbulent years, food shortages were increasingly a concern,” she remembers. “My father told me I had to provide for our family. It was a heavy weight on my shoulders.” 

Eventually, things came to a head. Her father demanded she provide for the family, and the only option was to flee to a country where she could hopefully make some money and find food to bring home. 

“Driven by the need to provide, I crossed the border in search of work,” she says. 

That’s how she found herself on the riverbank, dodging the border patrol. When she emerged on the other side, she was out of North Korea—and she was determined to find a way to provide for her family. 

A dangerous destination—and a place of safety

Joo Min was one of tens of thousands of North Koreans who crossed the border looking for food and income. It’s illegal for North Koreans to leave their country, but during times of severe food insecurity, North Korean authorities largely let such crossings happen. Still, if Joo Min would have been caught, she would have been jailed; but the border crossing wasn’t as heavily guarded as it is at other times. 

However, in countries that border North Korea, it’s illegal for North Koreans to sneak across the boundary line. If they are caught, they will often be forced to return home, where they will face arrest and imprisonment. It’s even worse if they are found to have encountered Christians. Captured North Koreans are directly asked if they encountered Christians and their punishment is severe if it’s found they heard about Jesus.

Open Doors has a network of safe houses in a region that borders North Korea. It’s a place of refuge and support, where North Koreans can find access to basic goods—and a place where they can hear the gospel. There is spiritual instruction, but also the provision of basic needs.  When Joo Min crossed the border, she wasn’t sure what to do. And then she met someone who said they could help. “I met someone who told me where I could find a safe place,” she says. That person was an Open Doors field worker. 

He took her to one of the safe houses, where she was given food and helped back on her feet. She met other North Korean refugees who had taken the same journey she had. And, eventually, she found a job to send support to her family. She also continued coming to the safe house for support and community with other North Koreans.

But that wasn’t all. “While I was in the safe house, I heard the gospel for the first time. I started hearing about Jesus,” Joo Min remembers. At first, she wanted nothing to do with Christianity or religious belief. She knew if she was caught and deported back to North Korea, she would face severe consequences if it was discovered she had met with Christians. 

And yet … there was something different about the people she met at the safe house. They weren’t the sadistic priests or missionaries she had read about in her textbooks. They were kind, loving and offered her help without demanding anything in return. Slowly, Joo Min’s heart began to soften as she learned about Jesus. “Despite what I was told as a child, I accepted Jesus as my Savior,” she says. “I started attending Bible studies and training every week.” 

Years passed. And Joo Min discovered she had a wound that hadn’t healed. 

A burden lifted

Joo Min had regularly been meeting with the Open Doors field worker and others at the safe house. She was growing in her faith. But even though she had been meeting regularly with these believers for years, she had never mentioned her father or what she had left behind in North Korea. “It had been a long time since I [had started talking] to the [Open Doors] fieldworker, but I never opened about my feelings toward my father,” she says. “Then, during a training, I finally spilled it all out. I admitted I couldn’t forgive my father because I held a lot of anger and hatred inside. 

“As we delved into the Bible teachings, I came across the idea of forgiveness. It was then that I knew I had to start forgiving him. As I realized all of this, it felt like a weight lifted off my shoulders, instead of feeling all that pressure and pain, I felt a desire to pray for my father.” 

Joo Min’s life had changed again. Her faith in Jesus had become precious to her—and now she was freed from the burden of hatred that had hampered her heart for so many years. 

She decided to get baptized, a decision she had put off for a long while. Finally, she was healed of the pain that had kept her from fully embracing her identity as a daughter of Jesus. 

She also made another decision: She would tell her father and her family about Jesus.

But God had another plan for her, too. And it was a plan that she knew would put her in incredible danger. 
 

A courageous calling

After the years of training and discipleship, Joo Min felt the prompting of the Holy Spirit. “I felt like God was telling me: ‘Go back to North Korea,’” she says. “I felt a calling to share everything I’ve learned with other secret believers in North Korea, my homeland. 

“I made the decision to cross the river again.” 

So, with the prayers and blessings of her community in the safe house, Joo Min set off for the border again. This time, when she came to the riverbank, she knew she was making an even bigger decision than she had years earlier. As she walked into the water and made her way across, she wasn’t doing so out of financial necessity or hunger—she was doing so because her life has been turned upside down by the hope and love of Jesus. 

Joo Min now lives in North Korea where she serves as a leader in the underground church. Open Doors estimates there are around 400,000 Christians in North Korea. All of them risk imprisonment or even death in the country where the Bible is outlawed, faith in Jesus is forbidden and the worship of any person besides the ruling family is illegal. 

She knows what could happen if she is ever discovered. “I know the risks involved,” she says. “If I am caught, I could end up in a labor camp, paying a heavy price for being a Christian now.” Yet, by the power of the Holy Spirit, she continues her ministry, knowing God can offer peace and hope to the people of North Korea. 

While she was in the safe house, Joo Min learned the truth of John 1:4-5: “The Word gave life to everything that was created, and His life brought light to everyone. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it” (NLT). The light she found is what she is now carrying in North Korea and nothing—not food insecurity, the danger of imprisonment, or even the seemingly all-powerful Kim dynasty—can stop the light from shining brightly in the darkness. 

God works through the gifts and prayers of Open Doors supporters to make Joo Min’s ministry possible. And it’s not just her—Open Doors has trained many North Korean Christians who have returned to their homeland to disciple and strengthen the underground support.

Will you help to continue this essential ministry? Your gift today can provide training for the training of a believer like Joo Min, who risk everything to minister for the Lord. Please, your help today can provide spiritual support to the next generation of Christians living where faith costs the most.

Joo Min has counted the cost and knows the precious light of Jesus that she carries with her. The best thing we can do for her now is to pray. “Please pray for me,” she asks. “Pray for protection and courage, so that I can be like salt and light in a land overshadowed by darkness.” With Jesus’ help, Joo Min and the others like her will help keep the North Korean church strong—no matter what darkness surrounds it.  

Joo Min’s story is taken from accounts of two real North Korean believers. Details and specifics have been obscured, changed or combined to protect identities, as the real people are currently living and ministering in North Korea. All photos in this article are reenactments, taken of an actor who portrayed Joo Min's story. Open Doors supports North Korean Christians like Joo Min through our secret network of safe houses outside the country.