"A Fragile Refuge"

“For thou hast been a strength to the poor, a strength to the needy in his distress, a refuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat, when the blast of the terrible ones is as a storm against the wall”. Isaiah 25:4

If you travel around Mongolia, you will encounter a one-of-a-kind shelter called a ger, a home you can see almost everywhere. As a non-citizen living in Mongolia, I was curious—what was it like inside? Locals often say that the ger represents Mongolia itself: a reflection of how the nomadic people lived throughout history and how they survived through generations with this portable home.

During our stay in Dalanzadgad, in the South Gobi Province—described by locals as one of the driest and warmest places in Mongolia, about 323 miles from the capital city, Ulaanbaatar—our neighbor invited us to visit her family in the countryside. As we traveled, the tall city buildings slowly shrank in my view. Within minutes, we were surrounded by open grasslands and mountain peaks. It felt as if we were traveling toward nowhere.

After an hour on the road, two white ger suddenly appeared in the vast landscape. Beside them stood a fenced yard filled with sheep and goats. When I stepped out of the car, cold air struck my skin, and the strong scent of livestock filled my nose—hygiene was clearly not the focus, but it was part of the experience.

Looking around, I saw only two ger, a yard full of livestock, and a wooden toilet standing alone in the distance. There was no visible source of water or electricity. To describe it honestly, it felt uncomfortable and inconvenient by modern standards. A question lingered in my mind: How do they survive this kind of life, especially with children?

However, the moment we entered the ger, my perspective changed. It was a round, compact home where everything had a specific place, deeply rooted in cultural meaning. The layout reflected a nomadic way of life and a profound connection to nature and heritage. We ate together on the floor and later slept in the same space. Then a realization struck me—it was the warmest and most comfortable place I had stayed since arriving in Mongolia. From the outside, the ger may appear fragile, but inside, it offers refuge and warmth beneath an endless sky, in a place where simplicity outweighs excess.

While playing with the children outside, I looked up at the sky and imagined how God sees them—surrounded in a full 360-degree view, with nothing hidden. It reminded me of how God protected and guided the Israelites while they journeyed through the wilderness. Even when they doubted Him, complained, or failed to fully acknowledge His presence, God still provided. He covered them with a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night, gave them warmth in the cold desert nights, and daily sustenance when there was nothing else in sight. His faithfulness did not depend on their recognition, but on His unchanging love.

In the same way, although our neighbor’s family practices Buddhism and may not yet understand who God truly is, I was deeply thankful knowing that God’s care is not limited by human understanding. They live under the same watchful protection of a Savior who shelters, provides, and sustains—even before He is fully known. That they welcomed us into their home, and that they knew we are Christians who believe in Him, became a quiet testimony of grace already at work.

Name: Devie Joy G. Samson l 64th Batch 1000 MM

Hometown: P-6 Alubihid, Buenavista Agusan Del Norte

Mission Field: Dalanzadgad, Mongolia