The ruins of the ancient Roman amphitheater at Carthage are nestled in a dry, sandy bowl cradled by the green leaves of the surrounding trees. My scarf flutters in the quiet breeze on the morning of our visit. Only a handful of passersby wander the street. It’s not a common destination for locals.

As our group is led into the amphitheater, we pause to imagine the thirty thousand people who once filled these stands. Then we’re moved through the tunnels and caverns below—dark spaces where animals and prisoners were held for the brutal games of gladiators and the public spectacle of executions.

It’s here that I pause to reflect on the story of a young noblewoman named Perpetua, who lived in the early third century. After coming to Christ, she led her servant, Felicitas, to faith as well. When Emperor Septimius Severus banned conversions to Christianity, they were discovered with the scrolls of God’s Word, arrested, and thrown into the very dungeon in which I stood—condemned to die in the arena above.

Perpetua was twenty-two years old, still nursing her infant son, when she was imprisoned alongside others in a cramped, dark cell in which I could not  fully stand up. She watched as some of her companions went before her into the arena, their final moments on earth ending in violence—and glory.

Standing in this dungeon, I was struck by her resolve, her surrender, and the care of the early church amid suffering. It’s a history that feels distant, yet her courage, faith, and devotion speak into our own discipleship today.

Unwavering Confidence in Christ

Perpetua’s family, riddled with concern for her life, came to visit her often. They were weary and anxious. Her father, in particular, pleaded with her repeatedly to recant her faith—not only for his sake, but for her infant son. “Have pity on your child,” he begged, invoking guilt and appealing to her  motherhood (The Passion of the Holy Martyrs Perpetua and Felicity, 5). But Perpetua remained resolute—she could do nothing but identify herself with Jesus.

When she was brought before the tribunal, she was ordered to offer sacrifice on behalf of the emperor. Instead, she boldly declared, “I am a Christian.” She watched as her father was beaten in front of her before she received her sentence:death by wild beasts.

Her decision would cost her. It would cost others. Yet she did not waver.

The apostle Paul once wrote, “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rom. 8:18). Perpetua lived this truth. She clung to Christ more tightly than to her own life, and her refusal to deny her Lord would shine like a light in the darkness of the Roman Empire and the empires to follow.

God met her in that darkness. In her prison cell, it’s said that Perpetua was given visions, anddivine consolations to strengthen her for what lay ahead. One such vision revealed a golden ladder stretching up to heaven, guarded by a fierce dragon at its base. She could see and understand the cost, and yet she determined to climb.

Her resolve was not reckless—it was rooted. Rooted in the hope of resurrection. Rooted in the promises of Christ. Like Paul, she could say, “I know whom I have believed, and I am convinced that he is able to guard until that day what has been entrusted to me” (2 Tim. 1:12).

Surrender to God’s Loving Plan

Perpetua’s brother was also a follower of Christ, preparing for baptism. Yet while she was imprisoned, he remained free. He visited her, offering encouragement and prayer.

You may wonder: why was she imprisoned while others remained free? Why should a young mother, full of faith and life, face such suffering while others go unscathed?

Perpetua had so much to live for—her son, her family, her newfound faith. My mother’s heart breaks at the thought of being separated from my child like her. And yet, even in the depths of loss and uncertainty, her life testified to a profound surrender. She wrote, “On that scaffold, whatever God wills shall happen. For know that we are not placed in our own power, but in that of God” (Perpetua, 6).

This isn’t the surrender of resignation; this is the surrender of trust. Perpetua lived the words of  Paul: “For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself. For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord” (Rom. 14:7–8). Her life, and her death, belonged wholly to God.

When we walk through suffering, it’s easy to lose sight of God’s goodness. Pain clouds our vision. Doubts creep in. But Perpetua reminds us that even when we don’t understand God’s ways, we can still trust his heart. He is loving, sovereign, and good, and suffering for his name is a light and momentary preparation for the eternal glory which awaits (2 Cor. 4:17). Perpetua’s suffering wasn’t wasted. It was surrendered andoffered to the God who works all things according to his perfect will (Eph. 1:11).

The Gift of Encouragement in Suffering

While imprisoned, Perpetua and her companions were not left alone. Deacons came to visit to pray with them and admonish them to hold fast to the faith in the face of temptation and afflication. There was some hope that they might be released—but they also lived with the stark reality that they might not.

Though few of us will face martyrdom, many of our brothers and sisters around the world do. May we be strengthened by their courage. The ancient church theologian Tertullian wrote, “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.” Faithful martyrs plant seeds of endurance and devotion in us—encouraging us to persevere in faith and holiness for the glory of God—and in this way, expand the reach of Christianity beyond all comprehension.

But it wasn’t only the church outside the prison walls offering encouragement. The prisoners strengthened one another. They shared visions, prayers, and jokes before their final day. It’s said that they even encouraged one of the guards to remain steadfast in faith. In those final moments, their mutual encouragement became a foretaste of the fellowship they were about to receive in eternity.

We may not stand in an amphitheater awaiting our fate as Christians, but we do stand in classrooms, clinics, boardrooms, or kitchens where we are no less called to bear faithful witness to Christ. We press on, walking in obedience, bringing light to those dark places along our paths. We must not shrink back from truth, and this is not done withoutout heaps of encouragement. We must receive the Apostle Paul’s exhortation to the Thessalonians, “encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing” (1 Thess. 5:11). For this work of faithful endurance, the ministry of encouragement is not optional—it’s essential.

Being Found Faithful

As I stood in what remained of that ancient amphitheater, I could still sense the weight of what happened there. The stone steps were quiet now, but the story of Perpetua and her companions echoed through the ruins like a living call to courage and faithfulness.

It’s one thing to read about martyrs in church history. It’s another to walk through the dungeons where they were held, to imagine the faces of a young mother and her friends as they waited for the arena. I found myself asking: would I have stood firm like she did? Could I surrender so fully?

Perpetua’s testimony stirred something deep in me—not a desire for drama or suffering, but a renewed devotion to walk faithfully in the ordinary and the hard. I left with a fresh conviction to hold fast to Christ no matter the cost. Her life reminds me that faithfulness is not about outcomes—it’s about obedience. Her story isn’t just a chapter from the past; it’s a call to discipleship today.

Tertullian concludes their account with these words:

“O most brave and blessed martyrs! O truly called and chosen unto the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ! Whom whoever magnifies, and honours, and adores, assuredly ought to read these examples for the edification of the Church, not less than the ancient ones, so that new virtues also may testify that one and the same Holy Spirit is always operating even until now, and God the Father Omnipotent, and His Son Jesus Christ our Lord, whose is the glory and infinite power for ever and ever. Amen.” (Perpetua, 18)

May we, too, be found faithful. And may our lives—whether quiet or costly—testify to the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus our Lord (Phil. 3:8).