I was standing in Oran Airport, hopefully eyeing the baggage belt with a crowd of other passengers, when a tall, narrow-faced Algerian materialized by my side. He greeted me in Arabic, and when I responded with a blank stare he grinned and switched to English. A visitor unable to speak Arabic, Berber, or even French was unusual. The fact that I was also a journalist, female, Christian, and American didn't add to my popularity rating in this part of the world. After obtaining a visa, securing the translation services of "Davy," an Algerian believer fluent in four languages, had been essential.

Over the last 20 years I have had the privilege of covering stories of God's people in 94 countries. This was my first trip to Algeria, the fabled northwest African country bordering the Mediterranean Sea. My assignment that April 2005 was to report on the fastest-growing church-planting movement in the Muslim world.

My translator was a product of this phenomenon. On the way to my accommodations, Davy shared how he had loved to listen to Christian music on Radio Monte Carlo when he was a university student. Eventually, at his request, they sent him a copy of the Gospels. Reading Jesus' Sermon on the Mount made a big impact, especially the phrase "love your enemies."

"I had never found that phrase anywhere in Islam," he explained. "There was a great difference between the Qur'an (Muslim holy book) and Injil (New Testament). In the Gospel it was like talking to God as a friend. In Islam you are a servant. I accepted Jesus because He practiced what He preached—and He gave me fellowship with God."

Unfortunately, Davy hadn't had any other fellowship, since it was 12 years before he met another Christian.

I spent the next few days at the House of Hope, a strategic ministry center established on the west coast by an Algerian Christian leader about eight years ago. Its goal is to encourage and equip churches, providing the resources, training, and fellowship so badly needed by scattered believers.

"Ali" and "Lilly," a delightful couple on the staff, are former Muslims who have the responsibility of following up responses from Christian TV. Two years ago the channel began listing Ali's mobile phone number as a contact. It was a risk, of course, and the pair is sometimes hassled by hate calls. But they'll never forget the very first response they received, at 6 a.m. The caller said he had been following Christ since 1999 and he couldn't wait to meet Ali. Until he saw that number on the screen, he hadn't known that there was another Christian in all of Algeria!

Churches meet on Friday since this is the holy day for Muslims. I attended a three-hour service and enjoyed exuberant worship in three languages. Toward the end of the meeting, individuals stood to give testimonies. One Arab stated that he had been born again only that week, through a gospel message on TV. Another young man who had also just decided to follow Christ exclaimed, "I didn't think it was possible for a Muslim to become a Christian!"

The high cost of following Christ means there are few nominal believers. Christians commonly suffer beatings, lose their homes, jobs, and sometimes their lives. Yet they continue to put themselves on the line, even giving their testimonies on television. Algeria's young church is taking the initiative.

Alas, I never made it to the famous Kasbah, but an overnight stay with a young couple in Algiers left a deeper impression than the old walled citadel might have. "Dis" was from an Arab family, taught from an early age to hate Christians and Americans. "But when I learned about Jesus in the Qur'an," he explained, "I liked Him. I thought, If God gave me a choice, I would follow Jesus. He is not a man of war." The attraction grew as he listened to Christian radio. Then, one night, Dis had a vision of a heavenly being who informed him that Jesus was Lord. At that moment, his heart was transformed. Now he is full of love, not hate; dedicated to bringing reconciliation between Arabs and Kabyles.