Memories: Mom’s and Mine
/ Changed— by a Big Book with a Fancy Cover! / Walking Worthy of His Call / In Suffering: The Voyage of Life / Counting My Blessings
Memories: Mom’s and Mine
by Grace May
Things Mother Told Me About Her Life
To make it from Yangzhou—the village where I was born—to Shanghai on a good day involved riding a rickshaw 12 miles, followed by a two-hour boat ride. On a rainy day, the miles of dirt road were a muddy mess, and we often had to walk part of the way. Back then, records weren’t kept the way they are now, so it is hard to know the exact month I was born. But I was told I was a cow (in the Chinese zodiac) and that would mean I was born around 1925.
I was blessed as a child. (“Blessed,” fu in Chinese, has the meaning of “endowed with fortune and good luck.”) My grandparents on my father’s side owned a house, a farm, and rice paddies, so we had fresh vegetables and rice at every meal. Being the only girl, growing up with both an older and a younger brother, I enjoyed a new set of clothes every new year and never had to wear hand-me-downs!
Nainai, my grandmother, treated me kindly, patiently teaching me how to sew and cook and help around the house. I wanted to go to school like my brothers, but she insisted that a girl’s place was at home. In my generation, so few girls were given the privilege of schooling.
After several years, Nainai reluctantly sold the family property because no one in the family was willing to
work the farm. My mother preferred making money by serving the rich and urbane in Shanghai. While she worked as a housekeeper, my father went to work as a cook in Nanjing. I lived with Nainai until I was 13, when Mama sent for me and asked my uncle to bring me to Shanghai.
Slowly, I grew to like the city. My job was to take care of the child of a wealthy Chinese lady, which was easier than working in the rice paddies and having my legs bitten by scorpions. I carefully saved up my money and gave it to my mother. Then during the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival and New Year’s celebration, my mother would take me home to Nainai’s, bringing back our hardearned money, mooncakes, and gifts for the whole family.
When I was 15, I met an elderly Christian woman preaching on the
Author's Mom
Fu Medallion
Memories: Mom’s and Mine
streets. I called her Haopo (“Good Grandma” in Chinese). Haopo introduced me to Jesus. I believed in Jesus and was so happy. But there was much I didn’t understand. Then this dear lady who had appeared in my life had to go live with her son, and I floundered, becoming emotionally confused. Mercifully, after a year, the confusion lifted.
At age 17, I went to work for a Japanese couple with two young daughters. I’ll never forget working for this family. While we ate fresh rice every day, and I used rice starch to iron their clothes, I knew that many Chinese were starving to death from the war. They would have gladly eaten the leftover rice we threw in the garbage.
Finally, at age 21, I went back home to marry. My husband was actually my cousin, my mother’s older brother’s son. Not long after we married, the Yangtze River overflowed its banks, flooding the region. Gongs sounded the alarm throughout the surrounding villages. People mounded earth to
support the stressed banks and stem the raging river. As my husband trudged through the mud hauling heavy bags of earth, he hurt his back. Over time, he lost the ability to walk.
On June 28, 1947, I gave birth to our son, Xia Shengchuan. When he was five months old, I went to Shanghai to work as a nanny, leaving him in the care of his aunt. While I weaned my son off my breast milk, I breastfed the baby of the household I served. It was the concession I made to have money to send home to buy medicine for my husband.
During these years, the situation in China was growing increasingly unstable. My elder brother had moved to Hong Kong and sent word that I should come. He thought the working conditions might be better. While I was living in Hong Kong, I learned that my husband—at the young age of 29—had succumbed to his illness and passed away. Our son was just six at the time. He wore the traditional white mourning suit and continued to stay in the care of his Nainai. A year later, I returned to China to bring him to Hong Kong to live with me. But he had grown very attached to his Nainai and wanted to stay. I was wary of leaving him, but I gave him a gold watch and left, not knowing when I would see him again. After returning to Hong
Kong, I worked for another nine years, during which travel in and out of China was suspended. I was no longer able to see my son.
While in Hong Kong, I became acquainted with the Mr. Zhao, a diplomat at the United Nations, who had brought his family for a visit. A friend of mine, knowing that Mrs. Zhao was looking for someone to work for them in America, referred me to them. Since I had no close family in Hong Kong (my older brother had moved to Brazil), I was free to go, and I was game for something new! I was 35 years old and about to start a whole new chapter of my life.
In the U.S., I served the Zhao family for one year before going to work in a garment factory. It was during that year that I returned to my faith. I had always believed, but now I started going to church. Grandpa Zhang worked at the factory and kept a tally of our piece work. He took me to his church, which was Cantonesespeaking. One day as he was making his rounds, he tallied 20 skirts for me. I told him I had only sewn 14 skirts. He smiled and said, “You’re a real Christian.” Later, another seamstress, invited me to her church, which I preferred, because people spoke Mandarin. On July 4, 1963, I was baptized. I felt truly free because my life belonged to Christ.
An elderly couple who went to a church in Queens introduced me
to your father. This couple assured me that he was divorced from his wife who attended their church and whose brother pastored the church. Your father was nice enough at first. He took me out to Atlantic City and other places outside of New York City. On April 11, 1962, I married your father in a civil ceremony because I wanted to stay in America. Shortly after we married, your father started hitting me, and I had no qualms hitting him back. Sometimes we fought because he wanted to go back to his former family. He would buy groceries for them because his first wife had four mouths to feed. Once, I called his first wife and told her to take him back, but she said, “I can’t take him back. The children are afraid of him.”
But I stayed with your father and can testify that through the thick and thin of life, the Lord was always with me. And that’s the promise I want others to know: that the Lord never leaves us nor forsakes us (Hebrews 13:5).
One day, after hearing a sermon preached by Rev. Wang about how Jesus didn’t retaliate, I felt so convicted that I started weeping. I confessed, “Lord, I’m wrong too!” Jesus’ example brought me to tears, and I repented for my part in our fights. From then on, I was determined not to talk back to your father.
But the threat of a storm often lingered in our home. In the end,
Memories: Mom’s and Mine
it was your dad who decided to move out. The next year, he filed for divorce, and three years later he remarried and moved to New Jersey. Four years later he died, and I dreamt of him once. Then I said to the Lord, “Now that he’s gone, please don’t let him bother me anymore.” After that, I never dreamed of him again.
Even after all this happened, I was happy. Some people didn’t believe me, and others laughed at me, not understanding how I could be happy when I didn’t have a husband or a house to call my own. But I was at peace.
Memories I Cherish About My Mother’s Life
Mom told me that when she was going to give birth to me, she promised the Lord that if I was healthy, she would dedicate me to God. Her words instilled a sense of purpose in me. Even before I knew what “dedicate” meant, I knew that I meant something to God.
Many years later, I learned how hard my mother fought to keep me. She was seven months pregnant when my father told her to abort the child inside her womb. She refused, with the retort, “ Wo yao ta, bu yao ni.” (“I want her, not you.”) She knew she would risk everything if my dad walked away, and she would lose face because divorce in Chinese society was shameful. She would
lose my father’s income, because he was making far more than she was working in the garment factory. And she had no other family in America. She was in a foreign land where she hardly spoke any English.
As God would have it, my mother gave birth on the day before Chinese New Year in 1965. God guarded my life, and my mother honored her prayer by raising me to believe in God. She prayed for me, read the scriptures with me, and took me to church. There wasn’t a time in my life when I didn’t believe that God was watching over me.
Mom cherished reading and hearing God’s Word preached. She had a library of sermon tapes that traveled with us every time we moved. She pored over the scriptures on her own and got excited when a Bible passage she happened to read during the week corresponded to the one preached on Sunday. Reading the Bible was the first thing she did after she woke up in the morning and the last thing she did before closing her eyes at night. Sometimes, she was so tired from work that she’d fall asleep with the Bible on her lap.
As a girl growing up in the Chinese countryside, mother never went to school. She only learned to read when she was in her 40s, thanks to a sister at our church in Philadelphia. At first mother couldn’t recognize a single Chinese character. But Huang
Mama was patient, closing each lesson as she began it, with prayer. Mother began recognizing words and stringing them together in the first verses of John’s Gospel, her English primer. Elated, she now had the motivation she needed to press on. She felt so blessed to be able to read God’s Word.
Although my mother lived most of her life in the city, from time to time, she would comment on how tasty the vegetables were back in her hometown in Yangzhou. She never forgot her childhood in China. She had grown up on the land, where the river flooded annually, enriching the soil, and where she picked rice from the paddies in her bare legs. As a kid whenever I didn’t want to finish the rice in my bowl, she would remind me of how hard farmers labored in the rice paddies.
Mother often said that loving God and loving others were the most important things in life. “Thank you, Lord” always remained on her lips. Despite how difficult it was for her to walk during her last year of life, whenever she made it through the door of our apartment, her first words were not “I’m so tired” or “Glad we made it,” but “ Ganxie Zhu! ” (“Thank you, Lord!”) Gratitude was like an instinct for Mom.
I don’t know when my mother started saying, “I love you.” But at some point, she did, and she’d also
give me a kiss goodnight and a kiss when I left on a trip. The older I grew, the more she said it, and the more I said it! Chinese parents tend to express their love in other ways, yet along the way, my mother learned to speak fluently my two primary love languages: words and touch. Even when Parkinson’s slowed down her responsiveness, whenever I said, “I love you” to her, she’d instantly reply, “I love you, too”— always in English!
I can still hear her say, “When all is said and done, ‘ the greatest of these is love ’” (1 Corinthians 13:13).
Loving God and loving people formed the focal points of Mom’s life.
“ Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind….And love your neighbor as yourself ” (Matthew 22:37, 39).
Personally, I wished Mom had not talked about our family problems so freely. But she was convinced that people needed to hear how God had rescued her from a bad marriage, her own mistakes, and some close calls—proving that God is faithful!
Grace May is an associate professor of Biblical studies at William Carey International University.
Memories: Mom’s and Mine
Changed — by a Big Book with a Fancy Cover!
by Kelly McCormack
Although our family had a Bible—a big book with a fancy cover—no one ever touched it. We were a worldly, feminine-ruled household, with Catholic mass sprinkled in at Christmas and Easter. These dates on the calendar were more about holiday food, setting the table with the best china and pewter, decorating the house, dressing in pretty clothes, gathering the family, gifts, football, and alcohol. Lots of it!
Sunday mornings at our house was not scurrying to attend mass on time, but rather a car ride to Dunkin’ Donuts, selecting 12 different kinds, and with mouths watering, tearing into several upon arriving home. Then it was time to read the “funnies” from “The Milwaukee Journal Sunday Edition” and look for ads for things to buy. The topics of Jesus as Savior or our need for salvation from God’s wrath never entered into our family
discussions. We didn’t talk about the God of the Bible.
As a child I became a child waitress, even receiving tips when I delivered drinks to my aunts, uncles, and grandparents. My dad was the mixologist, and my mom did the shopping to keep the bar fully stocked. By age eight, I was helping myself to the maraschino cherries and orange slices that were soaked in Manhattans, or olives from the Gimlets. Before I was 21, I was joining in real alcohol consumption and, with a fake ID, was buying my own even earlier.
When I was younger, I felt lost in every way. I remember wondering: What is this world I live in? Who am I, really? Who are the people around me? What’s the point of living when money and jobs don’t bring contentment? Why does it all seem
like trickery and a maze? Life can’t be just about watching soap operas. Eventually, I followed the path of “ eat, drink, and (pretend to) be merry ” (Ecclesiastes 8:15, NKJV). If only I had more money, or a different home, or a different body, or, or, or….
The questions I had could have been answered by God’s Word, the Holy Scripture. But my parents didn’t know things concerning the God of the Bible themselves, even though my mother had gone to a Catholic school and my dad had joined my mother’s faith when they got married. They agreed to rear my brother and me in the Roman Catholic tradition. Because they didn’t have a true relationship with God, they couldn’t show me where God spoke on all topics of life or model what godliness was, or what the pursuit of holiness was in Christ.
Thus, sin got worse and worse in my life, and it was never confessed. Morally, ethically, and spiritually, I fell into the deep dark abyss of a living hell. I was “ without Christ… having no hope and without God in the world ” (Ephesians 2:12, NKJV).
My life as an adult was characterized by lying, stealing, drinking to excess, and consuming amphetamines and other illegal drugs disguised as diet pills. I married and divorced twice and married and was widowed once, but not in Christ. I also had
boyfriends whom I sometimes lived with. Through the years, I eked out a living in the hospitality, real estate, and retail business, piling up debt with no awareness of how it would be paid.
After the death of my second husband at the age of 36, I became involved with the New Age Movement, seeking help from horoscopes, philosophers, and wellness and diet teachers. I studied Buddhism, Hinduism, Native American occult, and Earth worship. Believing they had certain powers, I wore gemstone necklaces and collected feathers as good luck charms. I ate organically, drank teas, took vitamins, exercised, practiced breathing therapy, engaged in the power of positive thinking, and listened to and followed Jewish spiritists. My last attempt at finding relief was in non-dualism, which teaches that you are nothing and you go to nothing. There are no consequences and there is no meaning to life on this earth.
Then, as I neared 50 years of age, everything changed! The eyes of my understanding were finally enlightened (Ephesians 1:18, NKJV)!
I learned wonderful truths from the Bible that helped me know God and gave meaning to my life now and the assurance of life everlasting. New words entered my vocabulary: propitiation, atonement, justification, reconciliation, sanctification. And I
understood that these benefits came from Christ alone through His death on the cross as a substitute for me. Jesus said, “ I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me ” (John 14:6, NKJV). In faith, I entered through this narrow gate. My life now had a different quality—I was singing hymns, confessing and turning from sin, pursuing holiness in the Body of Christ (the church), and praising God that I was purified by the blood of Jesus, through the Word of God by the Spirit of God.
How did this enormous change come about? The GOOD NEWS came by way of a neighbor who was a growing Christian and by way of a New King James Study Bible. The neighbor pointed me to the scriptures and to a 60-lesson DVD series on systematic reformed theology by R. C. Sproul from Ligonier Ministries. I found sermons on YouTube by fathers of the faith like Charles Spurgeon and contemporary reformed preachers like John MacArthur, and I listened feverishly. I also began attending two different Conservative Presbyterian churches in the Pompano Beach, Florida, area where I heard the Word of God preached faithfully. I came under conviction, and my neighbor had the courage and God-given discernment to know that I was dead in sin. He explained to me that Jesus did the work, and faith was a gift of God from God—unmerited and undeserved. That’s what makes it a
gift! Figuring it all out was the job of God’s Holy Spirit, who would indwell the new believer and give new affections, direction, and guidance to all who believe in Christ Jesus, the Son. I had heard of the Trinity before, but no one had ever explained it this way. The big fancy-covered book that no one touched in the home I grew up in was the very book I had needed all along! It contained God’s words, God’s standards, the Ultimate Truth, and the compass for here and for eternity.
Early in 2021, I found myself alone in a studio apartment completely wooed, drawn, or dragged, to the feet of Jesus. I fell to my knees and on my face, crying over the complete debauchery of my life on every level, and spoke to Jesus. I asked for His forgiveness, I asked to follow Him, and I asked to be His. I submitted entirely to the narrow road and got off the wide path that leads to destruction. I knew this was a life and death situation and that access to Yahweh was not through my own efforts but by way of Jesus the Son through God’s Holy Spirit. Any other way was a lie and a fool’s errand.
After becoming a Christian, I realized that I had been in rebellion against God all my life. My lostness was not the result of my upbringing or my parents’ lack of direction. I was sinful from birth: “ In sin my mother conceived me ” (Psalms 51:5, NKJV). I sinned because I am a sinner. “ For
all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God ” (Romans 3:23, NKJV).
The weird sorcery I once practiced— “according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit who now works in the sons of disobedience ” (Ephesians 2:2, NKJV)—was idolatry! I dropped it all at Jesus’ feet, and God gave me the Truth and “ made (me) alive together with Christ ” (Ephesians 2:5, NKJV).
Since my salvation, the Holy Spirit has given me many opportunities to talk to my mom and dad about spiritual things for the first time. It’s been rocky—at one point being accused of joining a cult. It hasn’t been easy for them to lose their drinking buddy daughter to the cleansing power of the blood of Jesus Christ or for their fragile faith to be questioned.
For almost three years I have been a disciple of Christ, a learner at His feet. As I write this, words are “beyond beyond” to explain how my life has been impacted. I never went to AA or got officially labeled as an alcoholic, or any other label by a medical doctor or psychologist. It became completely obvious as I started to read Scripture that I was called to live soberly. Some of my first prayers to Lord Jesus were to be delivered from alcohol, and I was. I have prayed to be delivered from despair, anxiety, depression, fear, and suicidal ideation, and I have been. Jesus promised to never leave
me nor forsake me, and He hasn’t. He promised to meet me in the storm, and He has. He said He would be the strength in my weakness, and He is. He said He loved me and will love me to the end, and I know He will.
To God be all glory to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!
Today, I live day by day, and hour by hour, confessing my sin and recognizing and turning away from temptations. I am on the narrow road, reading and studying His ways—not my ways or the world’s ways. I am begging to be used by God for His will and purposes as He fashions me for eternity.
“ For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast ” (Ephesians 2:8-9, NKJV).
Kelly McCormack resides in Saint Augustine, Florida, where she worships with fellow believers at a Bible-believing church. A new creation in Christ, Kelly rejoices in her new identity as a child of the King. Through prayer, study of the Bible, and hymn singing, she renews her mind daily. Kelly’s greatest desire is to live out her new identity in Christ so that others will be drawn to Him.
Walking Worthy of
His Call
by Jennifer S. Yen
Isat with Brad Franklin, my beloved pastor, in his home and listened as he told his story. He had witnessed God at work throughout his life and at Lakeside Church, where he pastored for 36 years. How does a man stay at one church and pastor for 36 years? Brad gives God all the glory! Citing Isaiah 40:12, he said it was only by God’s sovereign grace: “ Who has measured the waters in the hollow of His hand, or with the breadth of His hand marked off the heavens? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket, or weighed the mountain on the scale and hills in a balance? ” No one except our Sovereign God is Brad’s story.
The Beginning
Brad’s story began with a simple seed sown during Vacation Bible School (VBS). A kind neighbor offered to drive him to a local church to attend. It was the summer of 1966. Brad knew VBS was jam-packed with fun activities, so he gladly went. Not only did he have fun, but he was also introduced to Jesus. A small seed of faith was sown that became life-changing. Brad gained a lifelong hunger to know Jesus and follow Him.
During Brad’s freshman year of high school, he accepted a friend’s
invitation to study the Bible together. He found the Word of God so intriguing that he began to attend church regularly and read the Bible voraciously. As he grew in his understanding of the purpose of Christ’s life and death, Brad realized the importance of getting this message of salvation out to the lost world. Gradually, a calling to be part of this mission began to pull at his heartstrings.
Later, in Brad’s sophomore year in high school, an evangelist came and spoke at his church. Through the evangelist’s message, Brad felt the Lord tugging at his heart again and whispering to him, “You could do this.” Not fully understanding what “this” was, Brad knew he wanted to serve the Lord. He had always been inspired by the Apostle Paul’s example of using his gift of preaching to encourage and build up local churches. Brad could see himself doing the same thing. Through a thousand whispers in ordinary and
simple moments, Brad experienced a calling of God to be in full-time Christian ministry.
Full Obedience
Brad chose to attend Westmont College, graduating in three years with a bachelor’s degree in religious studies. He went directly to Western Seminary in Oregon to further his educational and pastoral training. It was clear to him that God had called him to be a pastor. But what was the next step? The next step he took was to marry the young woman he had fallen in love with and who shared his sense of calling. During the last year of his graduate study as he was trying to sense God’s direction, a classmate invited him and Donna to start a church together with him. Confident that God had called him to be a pastor and not a church planter, Brad turned down the invitation. Another classmate invited them to be missionary partners to start a church in the Philippines. His immediate
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Program at Lakeside Church
Walking
Worthy of His Call
response was “no.” Little did he know that several years later God would call him to be both a church planter and a pastor.
Brad and Donna prayed together to discern God’s direction for their lives. Where did God want them to serve long term? Was He calling them to be missionaries? Unsure, Brad and Donna committed to a year of fulltime missionary work in the southern part of the Philippines, to help start a church in Davao City. During their time in the Philippines, they became more certain that they were not called to reach people for Christ in a foreign country. At the end of their one-year commitment, Brad applied for pastoral jobs in the States and was invited to serve a small Baptist church at Scotts Valley, California, as an associate pastor. He was 25 years old.
While at First Baptist Church, Brad continued to feel the nudge in his heart to plant a church. He attended conferences and was inundated with ideas for starting a church. When the
lead pastor at First Baptist retired, the congregation began to search for a replacement. Brad applied for the position but was not hired. God closed the door. He was now 27 years old. But when God closes a door, He opens another one. And when He opens a door, no one can close it (Revelation 3:7). Brad said at this point it was as if the Lord said: “Go start a church. Go pastor the church! Move the kingdom forward!” Those words implanted in Brad’s mind and echoed in his heart. He and Donna finally heard and understood. They obeyed, and “ blessed are those who hear the word of God and obey it ” (Luke 11:28).
By the time they began Lakeside, Brad and Donna already had two children. The only income they had was a monthly $200 financial support from their association. However, God met all their needs and blessed them unexpectedly with the opportunity to purchase a house with a minimal down payment. God’s words were their daily strength, “ Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed,
Eagles Hall
for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand ” (Isaiah 41:10).
Church Expansion
Lakeside Church in Folsom, California, began in September 1987 in a small hall. Throughout Lakeside’s history, God provided the church with locations to expand His kingdom, answering seemingly impossible prayers, and manifesting His abundant grace. The congregation grew to a thousand members, and the number of services increased from one to four. As more space was needed, the church relocated to various sites. Brad began praying for a new and permanent location in their city, large enough to accommodate the size of the congregation. He led his leadership team to pray that God would give them some land. In mid-November 1996, two partners from a major developer invited Brad to their office to discuss a 20-acre undeveloped land parcel that aligned with Lakeside’s purchase interest. The initial offer was for six million dollars, but somehow as the meeting went on, the offer miraculously dropped to 1.1 million. Brad later learned that the actual measurement of the purchased land was eight acres more than originally stated. Eight acres cost roughly about one million at that time. Essentially, 20 acres were freely given to Lakeside from God. He had not disregarded
their prayers. After years of praying and waiting, at the beginning of September 2001, Lakeside relocated to today’s 28-acre property.
Rest After Faithful Labor
In October 2023, after 36 years at the same church, Brad Franklin retired from full-time pastoral ministry. In retirement, he is still following God’s calling. Remembering during his decades of pastoring how much he appreciated the church’s gracious gift of a sabbatical, he began Church Hope, a ministry that offers sabbatical renewal services to churches so their pastors can take time away for needed rest and return to the ministry with renewed vigor.
Brad closed his life story with a message for all followers of Christ: Proverbs 3:5–6, “ Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. ” Brad and Donna’s story shows God’s faithfulness to all who are obedient to His call. He makes their path straight.
Jennifer Yen is a covenant partner at Lakeside Church. She lives in Sacramento, CA, and enjoys spending time with her husband and two children.
Walking Worthy of His Call
In Suffering:
The Voyage of Life
by Liu Qiang*
The Meandering Path of Life
In the summer of 1965, I was accepted into the best secondary school in Tianjin, China, proud and ready to take on life. Little did I know that the Cultural Revolution would ruin my dreams and those of my family. My parents, being intellectuals, were on the run, forced to be in denunciation rallies, and humiliated and tortured in all manner of ways.
But our family was not the only one affected by this misfortune. The Christian church beside our house was smashed and destroyed, and the servants of God were insulted, forced into denunciation rallies,
and whipped. Witnessing these scenes shook me to my core. Yet the Christians remained composed and determined—not one of them pleaded guilty to the charges brought against them. At the time, I did not know that it was God’s presence and the power of the Holy Spirit that enabled them to endure.
Like other youths from the city, I was sent to the countryside for re-education. Afterward, I was reassigned to work in a chemical plant where I was exposed to poisonous substances. During this time, our lives were barren, our spirits deprived, our thoughts imprisoned, and our culture desolate. I harbored
anger and was confused by all I was experiencing and the chaos in society. At night, I would often look up at the sky and wonder where my future lay.
In the autumn of 1976, the Cultural Revolution—the decade-long catastrophe in China—finally ended. China implemented reforms and adopted the Open Door Policy. The college entrance examination, Gaokao, resumed in 1977. I was fortunate to get into the School of Chemistry at Tianjin Normal University. After graduation, I worked at the university, teaching and doing research in the district cultural bureau, district TV station, and district environmental protection bureau. As my qualifications grew, I was promoted to higher positions and became conceited. Fellow teachers often slandered and boycotted me, which brought repeated career setbacks.
That Was Then, This Is Now
In a flash, I am now old and my youthful days are behind me. Years of living under stress with an unregulated lifestyle—including indulging myself with rich food at many university dinners—I began suffering from diabetes, gastric ulcers, and other illnesses. My deteriorating health forced me to retire from my teaching post one year earlier than planned. Then, beginning in 2015, I started experiencing symptoms of
increased frequency and urgency of urination. The doctor’s diagnosis was benign prostatic hyperplasia. Thinking it was just a condition that came with old age, I didn’t pay much attention to it.
In 2016, while visiting the beautiful seaside town of Beihai, Guangxi, I met a sister in Christ who gave me a Bible. I flipped through it, but as I had no faith, I could not accept God’s teaching or understand His ways. “ You study the Scriptures diligently because you think that in them you have eternal life. These are the very Scriptures that testify about me [Lord Jesus Christ], yet you refuse to come to me to have life ” (John 5:39–40). I had yet to come to know the Lord of the Bible.
More bad news came in 2018 when I was diagnosed with advanced prostate cancer with multiple bone metastases. The cancer was inoperable. Holding on to a glimmer of hope, my wife and I hurried to the cutting-edge clinic at Peking University First Hospital where I was given an even more dire diagnosis: poorly differentiated, high-burden, neuroendocrine carcinoma. There was no effective treatment for it— not in China nor abroad. I was told that three years would be a critical juncture, and five years would be it. In the elevator, my wife and I embraced each other and cried. No words could express our sorrow, despair, and heartache.
Crying Out to God
In 2019, our beloved daughter arranged for my wife and me to come to the States to enjoy time with our family here. Yet my spirits did not lift nor could I ever sleep. Then the pandemic hit and our return flights to China were canceled. My worsening condition was weighing on us. My daughter and son-in-law were sick with worry and spent almost $10,000 in a month for consultations at private clinics and my medicine. The financial pressure that came with my illness made me extremely anxious and fretful. At that time, the brother of my schoolmate, a Christian who lived in the States, told me that God loved me, that His Son, Jesus Christ, not only died on the cross for the sins of those who believe in Him but also had the power to heal. He told me to pray for the Lord Jesus Christ’s protection every day. Not knowing how to pray, my friend suggested that I start with reciting the Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9–13) and praying for God’s mercy and healing. I began to pray as he said, and my wife and I started going to Sunday service at a nearby church.
Then, in the spring of 2021, I suddenly went into a coma. My children called 911 and sent me to the hospital for emergency care. After I came to, I refused to be hospitalized, as the medical fees without insurance were staggeringly high. My children were very anxious as well and made
many calls, hoping to resolve my medical fees in the States. After I was discharged, every night I would go out in the yard and pray with urgency to God for His help. Eventually, with assistance from the oncologist at a local health center, I was granted cancer relief insurance. Even though I was not yet a true believer, God listened to the prayers of a sinner like me and showed me mercy.
Spirituality Grows in Suffering
After a yearlong battle with my sickness, I was completely exhausted. I went through a partial resection of the prostate, 12 radiotherapies, six radiation therapies, four pulmonary edema fluid drainings, and eight chemotherapies. The prolonged treatment weakened my immune system, and the side effects drained my energy. Even though I was reading the Bible, going to church, and trying to pray, my faith was weak, and I lost hope of getting well. At that time, God sent Sister Jinping from the Home of Christ 5 to introduce me to a group at church, where I learned more about the gospel. With the help of my brothers and sisters in Christ, I finally repented from my unbelief and accepted Jesus Christ as the Lord of my life. I was baptized by Elder Zhao Wuyi on October 29, 2022.
Our church is like one big family with brothers and sisters praying for and helping each other. They help me attend my treatment sessions,
(Continued from back cover)
send food to our home, and take turns giving me a ride to church. I diligently attend Sunday services, Bible study sessions, and discipleship training. As my spirituality grows, I am no longer afraid of cancer. I simply surrender myself to God and pray devoutly every day.
My battle with illness continues. Yet I do not give in to the excruciating pain in my bones nor to the side effects of chemotherapy. No matter when my physical body will fail, I am living today by faith in God. “ Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal ” (2 Corinthians 4:16–18). The eternal life that God has promised all who believe in Him is the best hope in this life and the next. For now, my spirit continues on its voyage!
My hope is built on nothing less Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness; I dare not trust the sweetest frame, But wholly lean on Jesus’ name. (Edward Mote, 1832)
*This story was first published in Chinese Today, Issue No. 744 (April 2024) and was translated into English by Kiara Ngai.
Then I became ill, and everything began to change. For several months, I experienced severe pain in my lower and middle back, which led to muscle spasms in my chest and ribcage. Getting in and out of bed was excruciatingly painful. I also had difficulty breathing, a rapid heartbeat, and poor quality of sleep. I felt my entire body was failing.
During this period, James took me for visits to my family doctor, orthopedic doctor, and cardiologist, and for physical therapy and various tests and scans. He maintained his responsibilities leading Bible studies and preaching, while also doing all the housework. I knew I was burdening him, and worried that he might get tired and fall ill. Sometimes I felt very sad and disappointed because of our situation. We had recently moved and reunited with our son and family—and now I was sick! Sometimes I felt resentful. I didn’t want to lose my health! I wanted the chance to see my grandchildren grow up.
But James took care of me without complaint. When I was depressed and felt useless, he would ask me: “Now, if I were sick, would I need to seek your forgiveness?” He also reminded me of our retirement and interstate move, pointing out how smooth the transition was—all by God’s grace and timing. “Think about it; if we were still living in California and you got seriously ill, would you
want to move then? Would our son, daughter-in-law, and grandkids be able to come visit you often?” he asked.
I decided to see another orthopedic doctor who specialized in pain management. With one look at the ordinary brace I was wearing, he immediately prescribed a special spinal support brace to protect my spine and help me heal. He explained how my excruciating muscle pain and cramps were the result of spinal compression fractures. “Every muscle is working extremely hard to compensate for your spine,” he explained. That reminded me of what the Bible taught about the body of Christ. “ Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ… Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many...As it is, there are many parts, but one body...If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it. Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it ” (1 Corinthians 12:12–27).
With support from the brace, I stopped physical therapy and just let my spine heal. Today, with God’s help, day by day, I am recovering peace. I read scripture, pray, and enjoy the presence of our Lord Jesus. When I get tired, I go to bed. If I can’t sleep, I take deep breaths and recite scriptures. When I wake up, I listen to hymns or Bible readings, and walk slowly. This is how I realize the Lord’s good will. His grace is sufficient for me, and it is “ new every morning ” (Lamentations 3:23).
My days consist of sleeping, eating, receiving treatment, slowly pushing my walker back and forth, and doing simple therapy exercises. When I look at my husband James, doing housework step by step with ease, and hear him whistling while he works, I feel relieved. Yes, things are tough for us right now, but I am grateful to be alive, grateful for my family, my health, and everything
James
I have. And if the Lord is willing, I want to live—and to live well.
One day I was explaining to my son that I couldn’t whistle, only whir. To show that I really didn’t know how, without thinking, I pursed my lips and unexpectedly made a sound. It was incredible! I continued to practice and in our next family worship, I surprised everyone by whistling a simple children’s song. Even though it was not tuned well, my grandchildren could still guess what song it was. After a few days, I started to whistle the tune to the hymn “Count Your Blessings” while recalling the lyrics.
When upon life’s billows you are tempest-tossed,
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings, name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.
Count your blessings, name them one by one;
Count your blessings, see what God has done;
Count your blessings, name them one by one;
Count your many blessings, see what God has done.
Today, I am still wearing the special back brace to protect and help my spine to heal, and I receive physical therapy home visits to strengthen my muscles. The get well wishes, Counting My Blessings
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prayers, and kindness of Christian friends have meant so much during this time of suffering. And every day I whistle the song “Count Your Blessings” because it reminds me to be thankful for the many ways God blesses my life.
“ Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you ” (1 Thessalonians 5:16–18).
After I was diagnosed with severe osteoporosis, a treatment plan was designed. As of this writing, I have received five monthly injections out of 12. The Lord has been healing my compression fractures by building new bones and strengthening my muscles through these injections. I also have weekly physical therapy and follow a daily nutritional plan to supply calcium, vitamin D, and protein needed for recovery. I have learned to be still before God, to let Him control my life, to accept my disability, and to welcome help and care from others. I am grateful to live close to our son, daughter-in-law, and grandkids.
And I’m especially thankful to have James taking care of me. One day, I woke up from a nap and called for help. As James was putting the spinal brace on me, he asked, “Did you sleep well?”
I replied, “I slept very well. I slept through 10 chapters of the Book of Daniel.”
James laughed: “Oh, I didn’t know you were measuring your sleep by chapters now.”
I said seriously: “Not only that, I also measure my life by chapters.”
By trusting in God and living in Christ, we have learned to accept what comes our way when another precious chapter is added to our lives. May 2, 2024 was the oneyear anniversary of my sudden pain, and I did not wear my brace for the entire day!
In God’s providence, there is always a path of grace through every situation. King David speaks my mind: “ Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand—when I awake, I am still with you ” (Psalm 139:16–18).
Winnis Chiang, founder of Parenting ABC, is a retired licensed marriage and family therapist (LMFT). She is passionate about helping Mandarin and Cantonese-speaking parents get along with, enjoy, and positively influence their American-born children.
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Counting My Blessings
by Winnis Chiang
Whether a hymn, an old pop song, or a movie theme song, my husband can whistle a beautiful melody anytime, anywhere. During weekly family worship with our son, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren— because of his poor eyesight and the small font in the hymnbook—James simply closes his eyes and whistles to join our son’s guitar accompaniment. Even when he has never heard a song before, he can often listen and match the tune.
For many years, I envied James, who taught himself to play the harmonica and to whistle. He could make music with his heart, ears, and mouth. I, however, had never been able to whistle, even though I had learned the pipa (one of the most popular Chinese instruments), the piano, and vocal music. The only sound I could make was a whirring.
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