Steph and I went to the courtyard for some quiet time. We sat around the wood bleachers that once were painted a bright yellow, but had faded over the years and now only left patches of glimpses into its original state.
My blending tool reaches the page and is almost instantaneously followed by my eraser. As I searched for more corrections to be made the Chinese mom and son that were previously a distant speck in my range of sight quickly became shoes beside my left and right side with hovering shadows. I looked over at stpeh who seemed to be as confused as I was. Then the son asked if I was drawing a pilot- Correct!- and then told me to leave it, because it was good.
A boost of confidence from a stranger who turned friend as his hovering stance became a friend-to-friend chat while sitting on the aged steps. His mom simply kept smiling and would occasionally add in words. Her son kept explaining that his mom will be Christian some day. No matter what Steph and I said he came back to this. He emphasized that you cannot be a Christian in China, because you do not have the freedom to understand the Bible as does in America. He kept expressing that Christians are happy and that in China everyone believes in himself or herself or Buddha.
Our conversation continued for nearly an 1.5 hours. All the details I do not remember as I was praying as he was speaking. Praying that his heart would be opened. That he would understand why, as he kept pointing out, all these Americans were so happy.
See Mr. Li, our nickname for our new friend, is a very happy person. Throughout our convo we were all often laughing. Yet, he understood the difference between happiness and joy. He understood that our joy came from something else, but he didn’t know how to study the Bible, unless, he was in America.
I began packing away my pencils as Mr. Li and Mama stood up to leave. We exchanged hugs, qq numbers and I gave him contact information for the church. As we walked towards our building the wind began picking up and the breeze had the brisk nature from our first night of worship in China. I looked at Mr. Li and said:
“Do you think you will visit the church in China?’
Mr. Li- “My mom might.”
“Will you join her?”
Mr. Li- “I might…”
His laughter connected with our joy, and the breeze came to a calming still.
God provided, we listened, he heard, and the seed was planted.
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What conversations could you begin with a stranger?
How passionate are you about the freedom you have to study scripture?
