I was just underground for a month. No access to internet, no connection to the outside world. But now, after a 53-hour travel day, my time in the closed-country of China is now officially over.
I'm posting this from Muizenberg, South Africa, the ministry site for month three of my World Race.
I look forward to posting more blog updates this month, as we do have internet – although very slow – available at our hostel.
For the first time in a month – I'm free!
And now, my thoughts from China:
When you sign up for the World Race, they tell you to leave your expectations behind. They tell you that there is only one expectation you should have: to have any and all expectations completely shattered.
So, obviously, I entered China with tons of expectations (I may or may not have a tendency to ignore things I’m told sometimes). I couldn’t wait to see the underground church in action and encourage believers who were risking their lives for the Gospel on a daily basis. I was excited to eat egg rolls and hang out at the Great Wall. I was so ready to have my world destroyed by a very real God moving and changing lives in a communist state.
And then, my team and I boarded a train and spent 30 hours headed directly into the far Western part of China.
As we stepped off our train and found our way to our bus – to head even farther into the West – I had absolutely no idea that I was about to spend the next three weeks very close to the land that used to be known as Tibet.
Tibet was once an independent country the size of Western Europe. Prior to occupation, Tibet was a nation with an established sovereign government, language, currency, legal system and culture. In 1949, the country was invaded by the People’s Liberation Army. The Chinese occupation has resulted in the deaths of at least a hundred thousand Tibetans and the destruction of over 6,000 monasteries and temples. Freedoms of speech, religion and assembly are strictly limited and there are currently hundreds of political prisoners in Tibet.
Police escorted my team and me out of a city.
We rode horses through Tibetan mountains covered in freshly-fallen snow.
We stayed in larger Tibetan cities that had been integrated by Chinese, and small Tibetan villages that rarely saw foreigners (heck, we even stayed in a Tibetan nomadic tent in the middle of the mountains).
We sang worship songs to the King of kings outside Chinese military barracks.
We fell in love with Tibetan noodles (and ate them every day. …and no, not usually by choice.)
We prayed over a Buddhist monk in his apartment, and then enjoyed milk tea that he hand-delivered to our hotel room.
We heard story after story of oppression and got our hearts broken by the beautiful, servant-hearted Tibetan people and their struggle for freedom.
I just spent a month in the outer regions of Tibet.
Yeah, that was hardly how I imagined my time in China – especially since Tibet is a country that technically doesn’t even exist.
But you know what?
My world was just destroyed by a very real God moving and changing lives in a communist state.
… Maybe expectations aren’t always that bad.
Since writing this blog, I got horribly sick and spent a day in a Tibetan hospital (an experience I would not suggest to anyone).
Shortly afterwards, we were asked to leave another town and returned to our base city a week early.
…and then I got my world, my safe little American-missionary world, absolutely wrecked. Because God is faithful. Always.
That underground church I wanted to experience? Those believers I wanted to encourage? God blessed me with the opportunity to see His Spirit in action in a tiny, hot room full of 16 Chinese-students studying Scripture at an underground Bible College right in the center of a major Chinese city.
We worshipped with our brothers and sisters before kneeling in front of them and praying over their feet – the very feet that would bring the saving name of Jesus to China.
We prayed for their protection. We prayed for their courage. We prayed that the Holy Spirit would move like fire throughout the streets of that city, throughout the streets of China.
And then, the Chinese students started to pray, too.
Our voices mingled in the air as our prayers, all spoken in different languages, were lifted up to the Living God; a tiny glimpse of heaven, 23-floors above a dirty Chinese city.
God loves the Chinese people. He loves the Tibetan people. He is equipping His followers with the boldness to speak His name in a country closed to the Truth. And communism cannot stop Him.
Jesus is King. His name is power. He reigns forever.
Even in China.
If you’re interested in hearing more about my time in China, I would love to tell you the details via email.
