About or Ministry
My name is Gesua Moreira and I am a Missionary from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil and I was called to the mission field in 1999.
I have traveled all over the world; the Lord has taken me twice around the globe. I’ve been to Australia, Japan, many countries in Europe, South Africa, North Africa, and North America. While I’ve had the blessing to minister in many places, my true mission and heart are dedicated to serving in Africa.
Throughout the years of serving as a Missionary, my first impression when I arrived in Africa was overwhelming as I saw thousands of children and families who had almost nothing. I was in Ghana, in a city called Keta, preaching over three days—Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. On Saturday night, God told me to go outside. At first, I questioned Him: Lord, are You speaking to me? But I felt the answer was clear: Go outside.
The house where I was staying had no electricity, so everything was dark. The only light came from the moon, guiding my steps as I walked toward the gate. When I opened it, I was stunned. So many people were gathered outside—children and families with nothing to lie on. Their “pillows” were simply pieces of rock. I couldn’t hold back my tears. I didn’t know what to say, but God prompted me to ask them why they were there.
I asked, “Does anyone here speak English?” One young man responded. I asked, “What are you doing here?” He said, “We are from Togo. We heard that a missionary from America is coming to preach the gospel, so we traveled all the way here. We want to stay until Sunday, but we don’t have money to return home, so we sleep outside to make sure we don’t miss the service in the morning.”
In that moment, I couldn’t help but think about America—a rich, powerful country with cars, buses, trains, money, beautiful churches with air conditioning and heaters, shoes, and clothes. Yet so many people in my own country often don’t attend church. And here were people who had almost nothing, sleeping on rocks, just to hear the gospel.
That scene moved me deeply and left a lasting impression that stays with me to this day.
When I arrived in Ghana, my first experience in Keta was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Keta is about four hours from Tema, and after the long, hot drive, I was ready to settle in, unpack, and take a shower. But as I opened my luggage, I suddenly heard someone screaming. I opened the door and saw a very small woman—or at first, I thought she was a child. She had nothing on her upper body except a large necklace, and she was yelling in her dialect.
I called my translator to ask her what the woman wanted. She said that the woman’s daughter was in the hospital and was dying. The mother claimed that Lucifer had told her that her daughter would die in seven days. I told her, “I don’t know Lucifer, but I know Jesus Christ. If you believe in Him right now, I will pray for your daughter, and she will live.” The woman kneeled, and my translator translated everything. I prayed for her, blessed her, and returned to my room.
But the woman wasn’t finished. She ran into my room, grabbed my skirt, and screamed in her language. My translator explained she wanted me to go to the hospital with her. At first, I was hesitant. It was my first time in Africa, and I knew about Ebola outbreaks in West Africa. Hospitals were dangerous, doctors wore special protective clothing, and I had no mask or gloves. But I prayed and asked God, Lord, I came here to glorify Your name. If You brought me here for this girl, let me go.
I trusted God and went with her. When I saw the girl in the hospital, I was stunned. Her forehead burned with fever, and one of her legs was extremely thin while the other was swollen. I had never seen anything like it. I prayed in Portuguese, pouring out my heart to God. Lord, I am so tired. If You brought me here only for this child, thank You. But where are Your prophets, pastors, and missionaries? Who will come to these places? Lord, please heal her.
As I prayed, I wished the girl could understand what I was saying. Suddenly, the Holy Spirit spoke to me: Who told you she doesn’t understand? I opened my eyes and saw her tears flowing. God had translated my prayers from Portuguese into her dialect.
After we left the hospital, God told me to tell her mother that her daughter was healed. A few days later, the mother came to church—and to my amazement, she gave her life to Christ. She had been the head of the voodoo community in that area. All because of the miracle God performed through that child, she found Him.
The greatest challenges I face and the most difficult for me are financial support. Being there, I see the immense need, the struggles, and the suffering firsthand. The hardest part is not having enough resources to fully meet those needs—it’s something that truly weighs on my heart.
I have traveled all over the world; the Lord has taken me twice around the globe. I’ve been to Australia, Japan, many countries in Europe, South Africa, North Africa, and North America. While I’ve had the blessing to minister in many places, my true mission and heart are dedicated to serving in Africa.
Throughout the years of serving as a Missionary, my first impression when I arrived in Africa was overwhelming as I saw thousands of children and families who had almost nothing. I was in Ghana, in a city called Keta, preaching over three days—Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. On Saturday night, God told me to go outside. At first, I questioned Him: Lord, are You speaking to me? But I felt the answer was clear: Go outside.
The house where I was staying had no electricity, so everything was dark. The only light came from the moon, guiding my steps as I walked toward the gate. When I opened it, I was stunned. So many people were gathered outside—children and families with nothing to lie on. Their “pillows” were simply pieces of rock. I couldn’t hold back my tears. I didn’t know what to say, but God prompted me to ask them why they were there.
I asked, “Does anyone here speak English?” One young man responded. I asked, “What are you doing here?” He said, “We are from Togo. We heard that a missionary from America is coming to preach the gospel, so we traveled all the way here. We want to stay until Sunday, but we don’t have money to return home, so we sleep outside to make sure we don’t miss the service in the morning.”
In that moment, I couldn’t help but think about America—a rich, powerful country with cars, buses, trains, money, beautiful churches with air conditioning and heaters, shoes, and clothes. Yet so many people in my own country often don’t attend church. And here were people who had almost nothing, sleeping on rocks, just to hear the gospel.
That scene moved me deeply and left a lasting impression that stays with me to this day.
When I arrived in Ghana, my first experience in Keta was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Keta is about four hours from Tema, and after the long, hot drive, I was ready to settle in, unpack, and take a shower. But as I opened my luggage, I suddenly heard someone screaming. I opened the door and saw a very small woman—or at first, I thought she was a child. She had nothing on her upper body except a large necklace, and she was yelling in her dialect.
I called my translator to ask her what the woman wanted. She said that the woman’s daughter was in the hospital and was dying. The mother claimed that Lucifer had told her that her daughter would die in seven days. I told her, “I don’t know Lucifer, but I know Jesus Christ. If you believe in Him right now, I will pray for your daughter, and she will live.” The woman kneeled, and my translator translated everything. I prayed for her, blessed her, and returned to my room.
But the woman wasn’t finished. She ran into my room, grabbed my skirt, and screamed in her language. My translator explained she wanted me to go to the hospital with her. At first, I was hesitant. It was my first time in Africa, and I knew about Ebola outbreaks in West Africa. Hospitals were dangerous, doctors wore special protective clothing, and I had no mask or gloves. But I prayed and asked God, Lord, I came here to glorify Your name. If You brought me here for this girl, let me go.
I trusted God and went with her. When I saw the girl in the hospital, I was stunned. Her forehead burned with fever, and one of her legs was extremely thin while the other was swollen. I had never seen anything like it. I prayed in Portuguese, pouring out my heart to God. Lord, I am so tired. If You brought me here only for this child, thank You. But where are Your prophets, pastors, and missionaries? Who will come to these places? Lord, please heal her.
As I prayed, I wished the girl could understand what I was saying. Suddenly, the Holy Spirit spoke to me: Who told you she doesn’t understand? I opened my eyes and saw her tears flowing. God had translated my prayers from Portuguese into her dialect.
After we left the hospital, God told me to tell her mother that her daughter was healed. A few days later, the mother came to church—and to my amazement, she gave her life to Christ. She had been the head of the voodoo community in that area. All because of the miracle God performed through that child, she found Him.
The greatest challenges I face and the most difficult for me are financial support. Being there, I see the immense need, the struggles, and the suffering firsthand. The hardest part is not having enough resources to fully meet those needs—it’s something that truly weighs on my heart.