We have returned from an awesome month in China! We spent three weeks scattering as teams to love and serve and pray all over China. I wrote this one afternoon during our stay. Pictures were taken by Ryan (thanks!).
It’s 3:00. The afternoon sun softens the cold edges of this Chinese village, nestled comfortably in the foothills. We spent the morning serving hot chocolate and conversing with other world traveler’s passing through. We spend most of our days helping our friends in their restaurant. But today my shift is over, and I’m making my way across town to our apartment.
The street is lined with storefronts. Some with baskets of fruit and vegetables and piles of dried green tea leaves. Some with tourist trinkets. Others with knock-off North Face coats, one of which I am currently wearing. Every block or so I pass a small restaurant with rickety tables and plates piled high with noodles. Children pass by en masse, like a parade. Classes must have let out at the primary school. Two young boys catch my eye from a block away. About seven years old. One is hanging on the other, one arm around his neck like they know they will be friends for years. They have ruddy cheeks and eyes overflowing with mischief. When they are within a few feet of me, one grins at me and exclaims excitedly, “Hello!” I greet them and can’t help but smile. An elderly woman approaches me. Her face is wrapped in a scarf to protect her from the chill in the air, but her eyes are smiling. I grin and nod my head.
I take in the scene around me. Some things are new and different; others are strangely familiar. The men wear thick coats, and the arms of the coats are so long that they almost drag the ground. Their faces seem 
per
manently flushed, and I wonder if it’s from living in the mountains. The teenage boys wear their hair long, and they trip over each other to catch the girl’s eye on the other side of the street. The girl giggles and whispers to her friend. I pass a monk, robed in red. He is humming quietly but still nods in my direction. He has kind eyes. Two blocks later I pass a group of three men, all wearing small white hats signifying that they hold to the Islamic faith. They continue their conversation in mandarin. No one speaks English in this town, and I have only managed to learn “hello” and “thank you” in Chinese. Most of my communication with the locals consists of simple smiles and “ni hao”s. Still, when I look into their eyes, I see their spirit. I don’t know their names. I don’t know any of their names… but their faces stay with me long after we pass each other on the street. Their faces come back to me in my prayers. I bring them before our Father, faces He knows so well, for He created them. Tomorrow I will do the same. Every day, I am surrounded by a sea of beautiful faces.
