Kanya*’s church is underground and illegal.
You wouldn’t even know it’s a church. It’s just a tiny space that’s part of a small hut. The roof is a plastic tarp. There is no plumbing or electricity.
The home where the church meets is on land owned by the government—the same government that could shut down the church at any moment for being an unregistered church. The small congregation gathers each week, worshiping underground – and under pressure.
Kanya and her husband, Phonesay*, live in another nearby hut, squeezing their family of six into a small structure with no basic infrastructure. Their hut is just one of several on this small piece of land; each belongs to a Christian family like Kanya’s.
But Kanya and her husband know it could be worse. They know what could happen if the surrounding community and authorities decide to shut down or even demolish their church.
They know because it has happened before.
‘If you believe … He can help you’
Kanya and Phonesay are from rural Laos, ranked No 28 on Open Doors’ 2026 World Watch List.
Their community is deeply connected to an animist belief system in which people believe that almost everything—both living and non-living—possesses a spirit. Angering or refusing to appease spirits proves disastrous. The belief system is so tied to the tribal identity that to believe anything else can seem like turning your back on your heritage and your community.
Before becoming a Christian, Kanya was struggling with health issues, and the spirits did nothing to help. Kanya remembers someone telling her of a different approach. “He told me, ‘If you believe in God, He can help you,’” Kanya says.
After becoming Christians, Kanya and Phonesay’s house was destroyed by a mob.
Kanya took the advice. “I decided to believe. In that moment, I put my faith in God, regained my strength, and was healed – thanks to the Lord.”
The couple were overjoyed at her healing, but Phonesay was hesitant to follow his wife’s faith. He knew persecution would come.
Sure enough, Kanya was told she had to leave the village or give up her faith. Phonesay was told he must either divorce his wife or leave with her.
It was heartbreaking choice. Phonesay chose divorce, and Kayna fled the village, leaving behind two children. It broke her heart and she cried out for help.
A search for meaning
Staying with relatives, Kanya tried to grow in her faith by attending a church, but her heart cried out for her husband. She prayed for reconciliation and for his salvation. All the while, Phonesay was sinking into emptiness, looking to drugs and alcohol for fulfillment. It didn’t work.
For years this was the status quo, but God was working. Phonesay’s heart softened, and after five years, he chose to follow Christ and was reunited with his wife.
“We will demolish the house.”
Kanya was able to return home to the village that was once her home. The family was overjoyed to be reunited. Knowing it was God’s goodness that had allowed it, they planned a worship service as a celebration of their reconciliation and also a public declaration of their faith in Him.
“Thank you, Jesus. Hallelujah. He gives His love, His love. Thank you, Jesus. Hallelujah. His mercy is the greatest, greatest.”
Kanya's song
But not everyone in the community was pleased with the couple’s reunion. “Villagers came to the house [and shouted], ‘We will demolish the house now,’” Kanya remembers. “I did nothing wrong, but they wanted to harm us.” The villagers, armed with hammers, began to tear down the home.
Phonesay ran to the police for help. “Villagers have destroyed my house,” he said, but the authorities paid no attention.
“I wasn’t afraid at that time. I just wondered what they would do after destroying the house,” Kanya says. “They acted that way because they don’t know the Lord. If they knew Him, they wouldn’t be angry. The Lord commands us not to repay evil with evil, but to overcome evil with good.”
Kanya sat at a nearby house and watched as her home was destroyed. All she could think to do was pray—and sing. “I sang a song called ‘Thank the Lord. Thank, Jesus,’” she says, reciting some of the lyrics:
“Thank you, Jesus. Hallelujah.
He gives His love, His love.
Thank you, Jesus. Hallelujah.
His mercy is the greatest, greatest.”
In the end, their home was destroyed and the couple was kicked out of their village.
“During our expulsion, I felt happy and sad at the same time,” Phonesay remembers. “Happy because I have joy in God—I believe in Him. Sad because I was born in that village and lived there many years. Being expelled felt like I killed someone.”
Forced out
Eventually, the couple was given an abandoned home while the authorities tried to figure out what to do with them. Months passed, and persecution expanded to surrounding villages as well. Multiple Christian families were expelled from their own communities and sent to live in the abandoned house with Kanya and Phonesay.
Kanya, Phonesay, and their family were reunited after five years apart.
The families—now 8 of them in total, including Kanya’s and Phonesay’s—decided to move to a more rural area to find permanent homes.
The area they went to was barely livable—undeveloped land, made up of simple subsistence farms in the middle of the dense forests of Laos. Open Doors partners heard what had happened and were able to help with some basic construction supplies and food, and help clear the land for new huts. But life for the Christian families was not going to be easy.
“I wondered, ‘Is this the Lord’s plan?’” Phonesay reflects. “I thought, ‘His plan is for me to leave my parents and relatives to live in the forest?’ Is that true?”
But God was faithful. The new collection of huts in the woods was to be a place where, for the first time, these persecuted Christians could worship freely with one another. “Living in the forest with other believers made me happy because we shared the same faith,” Phonesay says. “The Lord gave us time to worship Him. We worshiped Him every day.”
Kanya is grateful for the help they received from Open Doors partners to build up the small flock. “I thank the Lord—I saw His love through these blessings from our brothers and sisters,” she says.
The small group of believers fashioned a church out of some extra space in one of the huts, and that became their church. The Christians began to grow in faith. “Our leaders brought many lessons to teach in the church,” Phonesay says. “We studied about sharing the gospel, and after studying, we went out to proclaim it.”
Phonesay was given the opportunity to travel to the closest city near them to be trained by Open Doors partners in Bible interpretation and other spiritual areas. These partners also brought persecution preparedness training to the new community to help them stand strong in their situation—and in any coming persecution. “[The] training taught me that we must be patient in persecution,” Phonesay says. “It encouraged me when I faced persecution, reminding me never to renounce my faith.”
Open Doors partners also supported a livelihood project for the believers because they had been forced out of work when villagers expelled them. “It helps me earn income so I can buy other needs like salt and sugar,” Phonesay says of the project. “It supports us whenever we have needs. If the Lord provides, I am thankful. If He doesn’t, I still believe in Him. Thanks to the Lord. May He bless everyone involved in your ministry.”
Today
This is the current status quo for Phonesay, Kanya and the other believers in this part of Laos. Their lives are not easy, and they hope for more. But at least right now, they have a church and one another.
They want to build a larger church—as Kanya says, “the worship place is most important, more than anything else.” But they are fully aware that any complaints from any community could result in the same consequences. Kanya and Phonesay are still deeply marked by their experience of watching their home destroyed because they hosted a worship service. They know that this could easily happen again.
This is true for many underground churches in Laos. They are officially illegal because they are unregistered—there are only three groups permitted to register churches in the country, and every other group of believers is forced to worship in a legal gray area, operating only as long as the authorities don’t care to enforce the law. Additionally, in rural areas, local officials wield even more power and often respond to cultural or ethnic disputes by shutting down these unregistered churches or refusing to prosecute violent reprisals against Christian communities.
Pray
- “Please pray that the Lord will provide a better house so we can sleep comfortably,” Phonesay asks.
- Kanya is dealing with sickness. Pray that she will be healed and that God would grant her desire to serve Him more.
- Kanya and Phonesay’s children aren’t able to attend school—please pray they will grow in knowledge, both in school subjects and in the Lord.
- Kanya asks: “Pray that whatever happens, I will stand firm and never deny Him. Pray that I will follow His Word and have strong faith in God.”
Give
Your generosity can help the underground church survive – and even grow.
- $38 could provide practical, medical, legal and pastoral support to an underground believer.
- $57 could train underground believers to persist through persecution and support others.
- $91 could build future underground churches through a youth leadership program


