It’s about two in the afternoon on a beautifully grey rainy Sunday and I am walking down the wet streets of Dalian, China. On one side of me is a Chinese woman I met at a gathering last Thursday, and on the other side is a friend she introduced me to at lunch this afternoon. Neither of these two can possibly weigh more than one hundred pounds or be much over five feet tall. Then there’s me, a Midwesterner oozing Scandinavian blood, towering at five feet nine inches and sporting the Kelly green rain coat I picked up from a Savers thrift store sometime last year. It is safe to say I stand out. But, interestingly enough it isn’t this contrast in appearances setting this time apart, but rather the conversation.
As we walk towards Xinghai Park, a notable tourist hot spot in this city, they are casually sharing about their spiritual backgrounds. Both of these women are Christians, their parent’s believers before them, meaning they grew up under Christian influence. I didn’t even know that was a possibility, which sounds extremely naive and I am aware of that. What would life look like growing up Christian in an openly Communist nation? I can’t even begin to imagine it. I am ashamed to admit I don’t know much about Chinese history, or the details about the progression of Christianity, but I do know it has not been, and still isn’t really, the most welcomed religious practice. The blood of martyrs marks the land of this nation in ways I will never be able to fully comprehend, and the impact of sacrifices made by those who came before me will carry on long after I leave. It is so far from my own American experience.
It’s a bit difficult to explain, but tonight I carry a special sense of privilege. Just one week ago my team and I set foot in China and I keep thinking, “God what are you doing? Who are we to come here so effortlessly, and yet be able to experience the fruits of those who gave their lives for these people? So many turned in their ‘normal’ lives and took on the vision of advancing the Kingdom, but never got to see the depth of impact they made. But here I am a person who, three months ago, didn’t have China on the radar, or want to put it on the radar, listening to people share about their personal journey to meeting Jesus.”
It’s been a few hours since I parted ways from those two ladies and squeezed into an extremely crowded bus, waving goodbye with one hand and maintaining a death grip on the roasted sweet potato they bought me off the street with the other. I still can’t fully comprehend, or believe, the richness of what I experienced today. Who would have ever thought that I would be in China walking in public with two Chinese believers as they talk freely and openly about their faith? Definitely not me....
This morning is blue-fully clear as honking horns from the morning traffic float up to me on the 18th floor. Surrounding our building are countless other apartment complexes attempting, most in vain, to challenge the 29 floors stacked up to make this one. I look out over the street and just beyond a small park the Yellow Sea stretches endlessly before me. This will be my home for the next 5 weeks. Incredible. One of the greatest things about this place, besides the view :), is our whole group being together. Yep, all 11 of us split between two rooms, a small kitchen, and one bathroom, which should definitely be interesting. The room I’m in, along with the other 5 girls, doubles as a community room. Two oversized couches frame the tall windows opposite our bunk beds, giving way to a single glass door leading out to the balcony, where I sit now. The structure of this morning is no different from the others before it. We all crawled out of bed for an early breakfast together, proceeding to shuffle through bathroom turns in a somewhat orderly fashion (“BATHROOM ANYONE?!”), and on into the girl room for teamtime; one of many to come. What will mark this morning in my mind and heart is what I begin to feel as I look out across the street into the park. 
Each morning, about this same time, a group of older Chinese men and women dance in the park. You can see anything from the tango, to classic ballroom dancing to, “I not quite sure what that guy’s doing, but ‘good job’ to him for going for it....” It’s fun to watch. I’ve been watching them for a few minutes and I get blasted with this weighty revelation. GOD LOVES THEM. NO, HE REALLY LOVES THEM. Each and every one of them. He. Loves. Them. His heart burns so deeply and they have no idea.... They just dance away, twirling one another round and round, sometimes for exercise and other times for enjoyment. God is probably the furthest thing from their minds right now, and yet that doesn’t change the fact that HE LOVES EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM. It doesn’t even matter that they may not know ever come to know Him. He LOVES them WHERE they are, AS they are. Wow.
It seems so simple and matter of fact, but to actually get to feel a sprinkle of that love for someone; to feel HIS love for THEM. It’s enough to wreck a person. I know it did me. I shared this with my team when we met back together but hardly got started before I just broke down. This overwhelming sense of His love for others moved me to tears (and I am not much of a crier. God, however, is softening my heart :). I can’t imagine loving someone, anyone, so completely and deeply, so infinitely, especially without knowing if that love will be reciprocated. Yet that is how He loves. And His love doesn’t change. It is, has been, and will always be. Complete. Deep. Infinite. FREE. He can’t turn it off, even when we turn Him off. And to take this even further, that powerful revelation of His depth for those Chinese people is the same deep love He has for me, and for YOU. Whoa. We “know” this, but do we believe it? And by believing it do we allow ourselves to receive it? And in receiving do we let it into our day so it changes how we see ourselves and others, ultimately changing how we live? I really hope so.
After this experience I am more convinced not just of the power of God’s love, but of my need to learn more of to what this love is. Maybe a new prayer can be “Lord, help me learn to love the ways you love. To have as complete of a love as me, a broken human can have, and to love in ways that are deeply infinite. To love in ways that are pure and heavenly.” I’m not sure I know what that means or will look like, but from the little bit He’s shown me I now know it too good not to pursue in one way or another.
Well, it is with a heavy heart that I start this entry. One of my goals when I began this blog was to keep it updated, and since the last post came on the 27th of August, 2010, it is clear I have fallen way way short of that goal and I am sorry.... However, be not dismayed! a new year is upon us and I am more inspired than ever. Originally my delay in posts was due to the fact that Blogspot, along with Facebook and Youtube, was blocked in China. People told me it could be accessed through a proxy site, but since security was something we needed to keep in mind it seemed best to just wait till I got back to the states. But then I got back and our debrief week, the student’s graduation and approaching holidays swept me right away with it. Good news! is it has finally set me back down and here I am, a month later, getting back at it :).
Our China team returned to Kona on the 12th of December, and spent the next 2 days resting and beginning to recover from the 18 hr time difference (18 hours ahead, meaning we were living in the future! So cool!) It was great to be back together with everyone and it felt like we were picking up right where we’d left off. Like there was never any time spent apart, which is pretty telling about the bond created within our school. Slowly, powerful stories from each team began to circulate, and I was reminded that as short as three months may seem it is plenty of time for God to move, and for lives to be changed all over the world.
My desire over these next couple weeks is to bring you some of the experiences from my time in China, and to do my best to share what God had for our team during the three months we were there. It was an amazing time, to say the least. I didn’t know what I was getting into when I stepped on that plane heading to China, but I look back and can’t see it having been any better than it was. God blessed us with unity and joy as a team, and also relationally as he gifted us with deep friendships in short amounts of time.
I kept a journal pretty regularly and that is where a majority of these next posts will come until I am up to date. There’s some pretty exciting stuff coming on the wings of 2011 and I can’t wait to share it. But first, about China!! :)
It’s about two in the afternoon on a beautifully grey rainy Sunday and I am walking down the wet streets of Dalian, China. On one side of me is a Chinese woman I met at a gathering last Thursday, and on the other side is a friend she introduced me to at lunch this afternoon. Neither of these two can possibly weigh more than one hundred pounds or be much over five feet tall. Then there’s me, a Midwesterner oozing Scandinavian blood, towering at five feet nine inches and sporting the Kelly green rain coat I picked up from a Savers thrift store sometime last year. It is safe to say I stand out. But, interestingly enough it isn’t this contrast in appearances setting this time apart, but rather the conversation.
