Lebanon. Land of cedars so strong they were used to build the temple of Solomon. Mountains so majestic, the prophet Jeremiah pointed out their snow-capped glory. (1 Kings 5:6, Jeremiah 18:14)

But today, Lebanon is also a land of screaming headlines: Rocket attacks, bomb blasts, economic crises, political turmoil.

What would possess a young family to set up home in a place where reliable electricity is a luxury, street rubble bears testimony to a city on tenterhooks, and sonic booms from hurtling fighter jets shatter windows?

For the Sohs, there is only one answer: God.

The call

When YWAM missionaries Ben, 41, and Shannon Soh, 39, first heard the call to serve in Lebanon, they were living in comfortable Perth, Australia.

It was 2021 post-COVID, and they had been praying about their next missionary base when they were introduced to a friend in Beirut.

“We’d never really considered the Middle East because we assumed we couldn’t openly run missions training there. But when we turned our eyes to Lebanon, we were intrigued,” said Ben. “It is multi-religious, schools are affordable, and their Constitution requires half of their Parliament to be Christian, including the President.

Ben and Shannon in Lebanon.

“That gave us an open platform to work with local churches – we really wanted to champion the Lebanese into missions.

“There were also 1.5 million refugees from Syria and Palestine in Lebanon we could serve.”

The YWAM base in Beirut had already been pioneered a year before.

Still, the Middle East is not a place one casually decides to make home.

So Ben and Shannon carefully broached the topic with their three children, Levi, Phoebe and Daphne, then aged 7, 5 and 3.

“We said, ‘Kids, we feel like God is calling us away from Australia to the Middle East. How do you feel about that?’

“I thought it would be challenging for them because they loved Australia. They loved going to school, they loved all their friends there. But when we actually put it to them, my son said, ‘Yeah Dad, we’re just doing the same thing every day here.’ And Phoebe said, ‘Do people there not know God?’ We said, ‘Yeah, there’re a lot of people there that don’t.’ And she went, ‘Well, we’re a missionary family, so we should go there.’”

The family prayed some more.

“We closed our eyes and asked God if He wanted to say anything to us with a picture, a song or a Bible story. And then we waited,” said Shannon.

God’s reply was unequivocal.

Seven-year-old Phoebe at a YWAM conference for 4,000 people, giving her testimony as a Gen Alpha missionary to Lebanon.

“I saw this picture of me and my son playing a game with black and white triangles,” recalled Ben. “And when I researched it, I realised it was backgammon, which had originated in the Levant region. It’s like the mahjong of Lebanon!

“God also spoke to the kids in a way they understood. Phoebe is a foodie, and she saw this picture of a big table with lots of food that she didn’t know but she enjoyed eating. It turned out to be Lebanese mezze – small plates, like tapas, eaten with hands.

“Levi envisioned a watch with a picture of a city on it. God was telling him, ‘I’m putting a new city into your hands.’ He got very excited because he loves traveling.”

The children had grown up in the mission field, with Levi and Phoebe living in China as young children and Daphne being born in Perth.

“I think the best thing we ever taught our kids, which comes from the YWAM DNA, is how to hear the Lord,” said Shannon, “especially over this past year because they’re growing up and they’re owning more of their missionary call and their faith.

“Our kids have said, ‘We are not future missionaries, we are missionaries.”

Called into chaos

When the Sohs arrived in 2021, Beirut was still reeling from the massive explosions that had killed 135 and injured thousands the year before. 

In the wake of the blast, more chaos had followed as the Lebanese Cabinet resigned amidst rising public anger. It was the latest development in a country which had also experienced a revolt as well as economic and financial crises caused by hyperinflation and currency devaluation, on top of widespread fuel and food shortages.

The YWAM base was just 500m from the blast site and the debris was still uncleared when the Sohs arrived.

“Many systems did not work – electricity, water, lights. It was the middle of summer, so it was hot. Our YWAM friend told us we would be lucky to get six hours of power per day,” said Ben.

“The exchange rate was going up and down every day,” said Shannon. “We could only exchange 20USD at a time.”

Yet, despite coming from “a beautiful base in Australia”, the family felt grateful to be where they were clearly called.

“There was rubble everywhere and dog poop on the ground, and the kids were going, ‘Oh the food is so good, the city is beautiful!’ I guess the grace of God was upon them,” recalled Shannon with amusement.

In any case, there was no turning back.

As they looked for an apartment to call home, the family talked about what they hoped to have: For Shannon, a good view amidst the sea of concrete buildings; for Ben, consistent 24-hour power; the kids wanted a playground, a garden, space to store their toys.

“Those were pretty high demands in Beirut,” admitted Shannon. “We had seen six or seven apartments and I was getting depressed and convinced we were going to have to live in an ugly concrete box with no greenery around.”

The next thing they knew, the housing agent showed them an apartment on the 19th floor. As soon as they stepped in, they went: “Wow.”

God had provided their dream home to a tee, with 24-hour power, a playground in the garden, a spacious living area and a balcony with an unobstructed view of the snow-capped Lebanese mountains mentioned in the Bible.

“When we moved in, we just thanked God and celebrated,” said Ben.

A community on fire

At the YWAM base in Beirut, which Ben and Shannon have led for the past three years, work in Mercy, Evangelism and discipleship training has been buzzing.

There is a Skate Ministry, where some of their colleagues started skateboarding classes at a park near two large refugee camps.

A Soccer Ministry run by a Mexican coach saw great excitement when it launched in Ben and Shannon’s kids’ school, which has a mix of children from different faiths. Between 40 and 50 kids signed up.

“There’s a really beautiful community outreach going with the Soccer and Skate ministries,” said Ben. “We are generally youth focused in our work because we really want to invest in the next generation.”

The YWAM team in Beirut, Lebanon.

The team runs a Discipleship Training School and School of Missions in both English and Arabic, and will be pioneering a Bible School and Community Counselling Training School within the next year to equip local and international believers. 

While English is widely spoken, Ben and Shannon are also learning Arabic, the heart language of the locals.

“God bless my wife,” said Ben, smiling at Shannon. “When we were serving in Nanjing, she spent eight years learning Mandarin, one of the hardest languages. And now it’s Arabic, which was even harder!”

But the rewards are great.

Hosting displaced people at their ministry centre.

“Youths come from Egypt, Syria, Yemen and Lebanon itself, interested in growing their relationship with God. Some of them see missions in their future,” said Shannon. 

“The short-term teams who come to do evangelism – from Brazil, from India and elsewhere – see a lot of fruit. They’re on fire.”

But in the midst of the vibrant activity, the long shadow of war was never far away.

War and peace

In October last year, war broke out in Lebanon after nearly 12 months of conflict between Israel and Hezbollah.

Where once the Sohs’ balcony looked out to the beautiful mountains, they now saw a land wreathed in smoke as air strikes broke out.

The screech of fighter jets breaking the sound barrier as they hurtled past their 19th-floor windows was terrifying. They had to leave a gap in their windows or the sonic boom-boom would shatter the glass.

A huge bomb that took out a Hezbollah leader shook the whole city just 10 minutes’ drive from where the Sohs lived.

A view of an airstrike from the Sohs’ 19-floor balcony.

With new YWAM students at the base, the leaders decided it was best to evacuate. But the earliest flights out of the country were two weeks away.

“The Singapore consulate was really helpful. You really see the privilege of your passport when emergencies like these happen,” said Ben. “They reached out to me multiple times to say, ‘There’s a flight out with this or that embassy. Do you want to be on it?’

“But as leaders of the team, it was not right for us to leave the rest behind. The consulate even said, ‘Can you tell me who’s in your group, we’ll try to fly you out together.’ But when we told them we were hosting a team that had a Russian, Iranian, Chinese, Costa Rican and Brazilian, they were like, ‘Uh …’ Every night they called with flights out and we kept turning them down. We just had to pray that the bombs did not take out the airport in the next two weeks.”

There were hundreds of airstrikes in a war that saw many fatalities and homes crumbled to dust.

Instead the Sohs and their teammates took off for an ulu (remote) mountain shelter an hour-and-a-half’s drive from the city.

The shelter had been built by their Lebanese friend as a drug rehabilitation centre, but was not yet open for business. There were 30 beds. By God’s grace, they numbered 29.

They shopped together for foodstuff at the village supermarket and cooked for each other dumplings, Lebanese food and even laksa.

Levi, Phoebe and Daphne enjoying a sweet treat at the safe house. There were only three hours of power each day.

“There was a war happening outside, but here in the safe house, we were worshipping together,” said Shannon. “It was such a picture of unity. We had a Russian and an American praying together.”

During that time, little Daphne even decided to say the Sinner’s Prayer and give her life to Jesus.

“She asked me, ‘Why is it so peaceful here when there’s a war going on?’” said Shannon. “I told her, ‘Well, baby, any time Christians gather together to pray and worship, no matter what’s going on around you, you’re going to feel peace.’”

Shelter in the storm

For two weeks while waiting for their flight out of the country, the group stayed at the mountain shelter by night. But by day, they drove back to the city to help the displaced, working at a food kitchen and distributing aid.

A teacher they knew had a father with Hezbollah ties. Their whole neighbourhood was bombed and they called Ben at 2am, pleading: “Can you help us?”

The team distributing supplies to affected families they knew. By nightfall, they would return to the safe house to avoid airstrikes.

The safe house crew, 29 volunteers from around the world, who waited together for two weeks before they could board a flight amidst ongoing bombings.

By 4am, the teacher, her three sisters and parents were taking shelter at the base.

It was not an easy decision as Ben and Shannon wondered if they were risking their own team’s lives by bringing the family to the shelter.

But the team served the family food and welcomed them.

“The father, who was an Imam, was visibly shaken,” recalled Ben. “His whole world had fallen apart. He asked us, ‘Why would you Christians do this for us?’

“We just felt it was what Jesus would have done.”

Faith over fear

Despite the danger, the Sohs say “even in the hardest times, there was a peace that we’re right where we need to be”.

“In fact, I feel like our whole lives have prepared us for this moment – to provide leadership, to serve the displaced,” said Ben. “Instead of going into autopilot to choose the safest option, we have to ask: What is God really saying?”

Said Shannon: “I think the biggest lesson we’ve learnt is how to handle fear. It’s not like fear just goes away when you pray.

“But at the same time, how do you hear God in the midst of fear? How do you not let fear be the controlling voice?”

During their two weeks in the mountain shelter, Shannon devoured Anna Hampton’s book, Facing Danger: A Guide through Risk.

“Anna lived in Afghanistan with her family for 10 years. Her whole book is about how we often have a theology of suffering, but we don’t know how to handle risk.

“I was reminded that throughout history, safety and security have not been the mark of the Church.

“Hebrews 11, which is about heroes of faith, starts out with all the victorious ones – by faith they shut the mouth of lions, by faith the walls of Jericho fell, by faith women received back their dead. And then it says that by faith some were stoned, some were sawn in half. And in the end it says, but to all these people, their faith was credited to them as righteousness.

“So I read that chapter in a new light – okay, God, it’s not about the circumstances looking victorious or the circumstances looking like suffering. Those don’t determine whether or not I’m faithful, or whether or not You’re with me.

“What they determine is that I need to have faith in what You called me to do.”

She added: “I don’t have natural courage. I’ve always been that girl who was anxious and fearful. Now my mum jokes that “the girl who was afraid to go to her friend’s house is living in Lebanon”!

“Because of God, I can face things that I think I never could have faced without Him. I’ve never felt the sovereignty of God more. Let the voice of the Lord be louder than fear.”