My Name is Chai Ling
My name is Chai Ling; I was born into a Chinese Liberation Army Base at the beginning of China’s Cultural Revolution. We were stationed in a small fishing village in Northeast China. Both my parents were medical doctors. They were often sent to poor villages to care for the peasants and rescue the victims from earthquakes and other disasters. Despite all the horrible things that happened during the Cultural Revolution, where millions of people were tortured and killed, our family was mostly shielded from the storm because Chairman Mao’s master plan was to keep the Army on his side. What I remember of my childhood is a terrible sense of loneliness and separation. My parents were constantly sent out to help others in worse conditions than us.
I learned through this experience to respect and believe in my parents’ work, as taught by Mao from his little red book: to love the people, love the country, to sacrifice our own needs and be ready to give up our lives for a greater good, and that greater good was our great leader of the country and the cause he defined. We did not know God, as we were not allowed to know God. “God” was deemed by the leaders as the evil things that the capitalists used to brainwash the people. It was a word that was forbidden in our society. As a result, God’s love was scare too. The society was filled with hatred, distrust and fear.
When Chairman Mao died, the Cultural Revolution finally came to an end and the new leader encouraged education and reform. For a short period of history, the country was filled with hope and vitality. By then, a lonely childhood and my family’s emphasis on education had made me a good student. I was a typical type A, insecure overachiever. At age 17, I became one of the few national honor students in China and realized the fulfillment of my parents and ancestor’s dream, to enter China’s greatest institute of higher education, Beijing University, called Beida.
Meeting God at Beida
At Beida, I discovered for the first time something about God from a graduate student, who had done a biking trip along China’s famous Yellow River. His report was spoken in a hushed and careful manner; it made a lasting impression on me.
In the middle of his journey, he entered a poor village so destitute that no woman had been married into the village for years; even the birds would not stop when flying over. A group of villagers asked him to do them a favor. It was a Sunday night. They gathered in a small shack that was made with hay and mud bricks, and in the dim oil lantern light, they passed something that was twice-wrapped in a thick black rain cloth to prevent water and damage. He opened the cloth, layer by layer, at inside it was a copy of the Bible. The pages had turned yellow, and the edges had many wrinkles. It was the only copy that was left by a missionary, who was driven out of the country after the Communist revolution 40 years earlier. They kept it for all those years, risking their lives during all those movements. They had one problem. None of the villagers could read. So each time, when they gathered together to worship, they passed the Bible around, touching the Bible with their hands to be connected with God’s spirit. So finally, this college kid who could read showed up. They were thrilled their prayer was answered. They begged him to read the words to them. He did. That night, he stood and stood, read, read, and read, and read, the villagers looked at him, standing, hungry and thirsty for every word spoken from his lip; they stood without moving listening and listening, until dawn broke through the window. The villagers had to go back to work the fields. They left reluctantly. To thank my friend’s work to bring them God’s words, they gave him a big bag of sweet potatoes to bring home---the only gift they could find from their village. My friend had to dump many things as his journey became long and tough, but he kept that bag of potatoes all the way to the end.
As a young college girl dashing around campus trying to do a million things at the same time, that story stopped my rush. I was touched by his witness and the spirit that attracts those villagers strongly attracted me. For we have grown up being asked to worship the Communist leaders and Chairman Mao. All I had seen wasdone out of fear and obedience; I had never seen such a public display of this genuine strong devotion and faith. And for reasons that I don’t even understand today, ever since that moment, my life was turned from one event to another, and went spinning out of control.
Tiananmen Square Movement 1989
I found myself ending up at Tiananmen Square in 1989, leading the student protest and hunger strike for a better, freer, and more loving China. Many called the 1989 Tiananmen movement a pro-democracy movement, some call it a revolution. They are all right, partially. For us, we wanted to know the truth about our country, our lives, and our beliefs. What is true and what is not true? For example, we were raised to love the police and the army, but when we demonstrate, they beat us up. We were raised to love the people, the country and the leaders; do they love us? In a more profound sense, the Tiananmen movement was a spiritual awakening movement.
For 50 days in the spring of 1989, the Tiananmen event grew and grew into a global event, in a society that allows no free media. It touched so many people, across so many cultures and continents.It changed every one of our lives in such a profound way --one none of us could ever imagine. The expression of love, started by a poor, shy man who pushed a 5 RMB bill into my hands so I could buy my students some water to drink in a hot summer day, brought smiles and love out of each of our hearts, and that smile and love spread into more people, woke more neighbors out from hatred and distrust and soon the whole city, the whole country, and the whole world was touched by that energy of love, hope and that glorious dreams that we could be free. Free from hatred, free from violence, free from separation and free from fear. That moment, we learned the truth. We love the people and the people loved us back. We loved our country and our country and many countries loved us back. Even the thieves in Beijing called a strike and stopped stealing to support the movement.
The Truth from The Leaders
In those days at Tiananmen, I asked myself: “So how about the leaders now? Will they understand? Will they let down their guard and embrace love and freedom? Will they free the students and the people so they will be set free too?” Now we know that they did not. So the last hour came, and I was with my last 5000 students at the Square when tanks and troops rolled in. The death toll and casualty numbers on the Long Peace Avenue were reported back to me. So the truth came from the leaders: when we offered them love and peace, they handed us death and massacre. None of us could believe it at first. How could I believe the People’s Liberation Army would kill its own people? I grew up with them. They were uncles and aunties to me. We love them and they love us. I remember when we had to abandon the commanding headquarters (a tent). I raised my head to the sky and asked in silence, “Why? Why? Why? Why do they have to kill us for wanting to have a dialogue?”
Death Was Marching At Us
Despite our cry and disbelief, death was marching at us step by step. During those 50 days, I had overcome so many new emotions and tests--from living a simple life of a graduate student to becoming a Commander in Chief for a mass movement; from being young, care free with a love to dance to now taking a stand that would potentially lead to years of life in prison; from dreaming about studying in America and building a life of happiness and laughter to maybe just hoping to survive. And now, I thought, “It is death.” As a little lonely child growing up around the hospital, I had been always so afraid of death. I had nightmares like sinking into a deep, endless and dark hole that simply would not end. Each time I screamed to awake. But this time, it was no longer a dream, even a bad dream. It was real, and this time we would not wake up from it. In the last hour, I was confronted the ultimate test and I was not sure how to overcome death. Many thoughts rushed through my mind. What would happen to my family thousands miles away? How will they go on if I am no longer there for them? I am their hope and their pride. How about all our dreams for a fulfilled life, with children and grandchildren…so many questions, so little time. So this is it! This night?!
As an individual student, I could have dwelled on my own thoughts. But as a leader, I had to tend to my troops. I and another leader took a walk around our students. They were sitting with each other, holding hands and sharing blankets, their eyes like lambs waited to be chopped, looked sadly into the darkness of the Square, where occasionally, gleams of light from the guns and tanks shone brightly. Their faces showed the same kind of emotions I was going through: sadness, sorrow, anger, disbelief and helplessness. What kind of words could I say to comfort them?
I remembered a story I’d heard a few days ago. I told them the story of a community of ants that lived on a mountain. One day, the mountain caught on fire and they had to get down to the bottom of the hill to survive. They rolled into a ball, went through the fire, and the outside ants were burned, but the ant nation survived. So tonight, I said, “We are the ants on the frontier of our nation. In our demise, there will be born a free nation.” Smiles and cheers came back to our students’ faces. In those last minutes, we found our purpose. This shared purpose gave us courage to face the unbearable darkness and the unknown that comes from death. As I was standing there, I was overcome with such a strong feeling, when we were about to give our lives, our most precious gift we could give for the people, how strongly we felt love we for our people and our nation. As I was looking into the cold and dark tanks that showed no emotion, I thought if only the leaders who ordered the massacre could have felt that love, that priceless gift!
For some miraculous reason, I survived. We led many of the last 5000 students out of the Square. And my life was thrown into another dangerous adventure--the underground. There, I was rescued by a group of devout Buddhists, whose beliefs are truth, kindness and endurance. They decided to risk their own lives to save me. When I was deeply troubled by the question, “Why have I survived when so many others have died?”, they told me it was because my work in this life was not yet done. So with that clarity and relief, I endured 5 nights and 4 days of complete darkness and isolation in a wooden crate inside a boat (when the trip was supposed to be only 8 hours) with nothing but a simple faith; “my work is this life is not done yet.” I escaped to freedom, first through Hong Kong, then to Paris and finally to America.
Coming to America
Despite all the great things America had to offer, a life as an immigrantis not easy; a life as a refugee who did not speak much English (who was supposed to work to free a nation that she could not even go back to) was even harder. One may think that once we achieved freedom we could live happily ever after. But bad things kept happening one after another. My first marriage to another Chinese student leader fell apart. Then my dear mother passed away, then my grandmother passed away, then the job I loved did not want to risk their China business on me, then some vicious defamation and attack came against me; each dark hour was darker than the first one. At one point, I looked up at the sky and asked, “God, you’ve given me freedom, but nothing else is left.” Each time, I relied on my own strength and many others’ kind help to overcome. I tried many things: a graduate degree from Princeton, a graduate degree from Harvard, working in NGOs, working in Government, and working in companies. At one point, China became such a painful issue that I simply had to put it back out of my mind and my life. Somehow like Scarlet in Gone with the Wind, who refused to ever go hungry again, I stumbled on this idea that if only I could become a very successful entrepreneur, like Bill Gates, if I could make lots of money and set up a giant foundation, then I could once and for all overcome and free China. In the mean time, over a decade, I built back my life with my wonderful new American husband, we had three children; I brought my extended family out of China, gave money to save orphans in China, and built a software company with over 280 employees. These tasks kept our minds and hands full as we were inching our way towards that illusive big and grand goal.
Twenty Years Later
Last spring, approaching the 20th anniversary of the Tiananmen movement, I was surprised by a visit from my Tiananmen colleague Fang Zheng. I did not know him in person during the revolution. I later had learned that when we left the Square on the June 4th morning, while I was leading the team marching in the front,he was at the end. The tanks came from behind with such a high speed. Aware of what was about to happen, Fang Zheng instantly saved the young lady next to him by pushing her to safety, but lost the precious few seconds he needed to save himself. Both of his legs were crushed by the tank. Several other people were completely crushed. So, 20 years later, I met him in his wheelchair. While I listened to his story after Tiananmen, I could not stop thinking that his life could be mine, and he could be me had the tanks come from the front of the line instead of the back. I realized that as the days go on, more and more people are benefitting fromeconomic development in China and more and more forget about the sacrifices. The victims of Tiananmen have been forgotten. They struggle in China on a daily basis. I could no longer go back to my grand plan to wait until my business was big enough to change China. I had to give immediately, as much as I could, to give them hope and sustain them in a time of this prolonged darkness. So I made a pledge to donate a large amount for next five years to help sustain hope.
As a result of my commitment, the following summer became another dark moment in my life. This time, Chinese government agents asked my family members directly to bring me a message: that my continued work would bring no good consequences for me and my family. In the mean time, while living in the free land of America, I felt a dark cloud descended on me. It surrounded me everywhere. From the surface, I lived this perfect American Dream life: lovely children and husband, home, company, private schools, vacation-- but I felt I was being watched and followed. My phone was listened to, our computer was hacked, and then some mysterious fatal car accidents that ended the lives of several over dissidents surfaced. So what else are they doing? What are they going to do next?
In the land of the free and home of the brave, I did not feel safe, or free. But this time, it was worse. I had a responsibility for these young and innocent children and my dear and loving husband, who is a happy go-lucky American from the Heartland, completely innocent and unaware of the cruelty and consequences of a dark regime, whose favorite pastime is watching the Red Sox or Patriots and other sports he can find time for. After losing many of my beloved ones to the cause, this time, the thoughts of losing my new family was simply unbearable. Yet my life was supposed to have a purpose: my work was not done yet. For all I knew, the only reason I survived was may be because my work was not done yet. How could I not continue the work to bring freedom to China? I was stuck!
The Truth about Me
Despite my reservations, I went ahead for the cause because it was the right thing to do. Just like the night ofJune 3rd when we were faced with death, we did not overcome it in peace, but we stood up to it and dealt with the consequences. On the plane to DC to join Fang Zheng to celebrate his first dance with his wife (after he was being generously outfitted with state-of-the-art prosthetic legs) I encountered a terrible attack. Half dozing off, I was awakened to a sensation of losing breath and dizziness, a feeling of dying and being completely out of control. It was a panic attack. This was an experience I had never encountered even when I was at the Square. But this time, I was stuck between the past and the future, I lost all the purpose and clarity, I lost all my strength. Now the truth about me finally emerged. For all those battles and triumphs, I realizedhow small I actually am when confronted with the force of an entire regime. How could I, a humble individual, go against an entire regime with enormous resources and networks? How could I join a battle that could not be won, and in the process, commit the sacrifice of my most precious beloved ones?
Over the years, many had sowed seeds about Christ. Two of these include a dear friend, Jariy Hunter, who leads a faith-based college in South Carolina and a Methodist Minister on Cape Cod, named Rev. Holt. Both of these men have helped me to open my eyes for Christ. That night I met a new friend named Reggie LittleJohn. She is a devoted Christian and believes she is being called to expose the brutality of China’s forced abortion practice. She talked about how she thought she knew God and realized that she did not really know God until she went through a life-threatening illness. She told me that through that experience she has been transformed from a litigator into a human rights activist and film producer. She is now devoting her time to serve the Lord. I asked her if she had seen God. She said she had not, but others have. She sent me a book entitled, “The Heavenly Man.” It was a story of how a young Chinese peasant boy was enlightened by God through the miracles God performed on his dying father. Then he became a minister and was sent to jail many times because of his work of bringing the Gospel to China. At one time, they broke his legs, but with God’s help, he walked out the jail cell in front of their very eyes, and did not realize that his legs were already healed by the Lord. At the end of his book, he asked, “So are you ready to walk with Christ?”
I closed the book and picked up the phone, “Reggie, if you think anyone would become Christian after reading this book, you must be crazy.” I was only half joking. For me, committing to Christ became equivalent to going back to those persecutions. I just finished digging myself out of there after 20 years. In the meantime Reggie also sent me the movie of the Gospel of John. Each time I watched the movie and heard the words of Christ, it brought an unexplainable sense of peace and calm into my burning heart. Later on, a few weeks later, one thing led to another-- the drama only intensified. Reggie and I went to the U.S. Congress’s Human Right Committee’s testimony on China’s forced abortion practice. I thought I knew China until I heard Wujian’s story.
The Lord Is Calling
Wujian was pregnant before she received a “birth permit” to have a child, so she had to hide her pregnancy in hopes to escape the fate of giving up her baby. The family planning officials beat and tortured her father, forcing her to choose one life, her father’s or her baby’s. Her father did not reveal anything, but the Family Planning Officials still managed to find her in the hiding place. She was dragged into a forced abortion hospital. After two shots, her baby stopped moving, but still miraculously remained inside her. At that point, the young helpless mother Wujian was so proud of her baby and cheering the baby on: “My baby is so strong, maybe my baby will survive the toxic shots and live.” But on the third day, before Wujian realized what was going on, she was dragged into the operating room and scissors were inserted into her body, cutting her baby into many pieces. In her helpless tears and cries, all she could hear was the sounds of the scissors. At last, the doctor pulled out a small baby foot, with five little toes fully formed in the size of corn kernels. That picture was forever seared into Wujian’s mind. At the moment of the baby’s death, part of Wujian’s life was gone forever. When she reached this point in her testimony, the entire hearing room was filled with nothing but tears and cries, Wujian’s and ours. Our hearts were broken with pain and sadness for Wujian and her helpless child, and for every mother in China and their unborn babies. That moment brought back all the memories of helplessness and pain we experienced on the night of the June 4 massacre in 1989. That night was so brutal, yet we had no strength to stop it, and the rest of the world could not stop it, either.
Wujian’s story is just one of the 10,000 cases that occurred in that single county in China in 2005. In the past three decades, an estimated 400 million lives have been brutally taken by abortion in China; many used this form of cruel and inhumane operations, which not only ended the babies’ lives, but also deeply traumatized and endangered the surviving mothers. After her forced abortion experience, Wujian struggled on the edge of life and death. She blamed herself for not being able to protect her child. She was only saved through finding her faith in Christ. Others have been less fortunate. Each day in China, 500 women commit suicide. Very few news outlets report on theirdeaths.
To my horror, I realized what was happening. No one could ever forget the 1989 Tiananmen Massacre even though it has now been over twenty years. Yet very few of us realized that the three words “One Child Policy” would be a marching order for brutality hundreds of times more deadly than the Tiananmen Massacre -- to happen in broad daylight, to be repeated each and every day. In Wujian’s own tearful words, “Who could help them? Who could save them? The One-Child Policy and forced abortion policy have killed millions of innocent lives in China. How could this inhumane crime be stopped? When could this inhumane crime be stopped?
Saved By Faith
Wujian’s cry struck me to the core. If there any one could stop this brutality, it had to be God, and it could only be God. I had tried and God knows how hard I had tried, and we did not succeed. Once again, I found myself pondering back and forth at the gate of God’s Kingdom, wanting to believe but hindered by many questions. Big questions:
“How about Buddhism? Would my new Christian faith mean betrayal to those who so bravely saved my life?” My dear husband answered my question, “No.”
“When I invite Christ to be my Savior and be on the throne in my life, will my life be out of control? Will I become a part of the Back to Jerusalem movement? I know nothing about the Middle East and I am not sure my children will like their food!”
“No, the Lord will use what he has prepared for us in the past to complete, a task that He has designed just for each of us. Without our work, God’s plan will not be done.” Reggie was helping me along the last steps to the finish line.
“Then what is God’s plan for me?” I asked, this question that had been bothering me for the past 20 years to the point where I was totally at a loss.
“God definitely has a special job for you, because you grew up in China, had an excellent education, ended up in Tiananmen and came here, married an American husband and started your business. Very few have achieved the level of experiences and understandings as you have in so many unique areas…” Reggie continued, using stories to show that the Lord had prepared her past accomplishments and skill sets to prepare her to do the job He had designed for her.
As she was speaking, I started gaining some clarity, and my heart was filled with a warm desire. I blurted out: “If only I could bring God’s love to China! All the tragedy could come to an end and what a wonderful place the world can be…”
“That’s it, write it down.” Reggie stopped me, “Bring God’s love to China---that’s the Lord’s plan for you. A job he had prepared you for and only you can do accomplish it in a way no one else can.”
“Wow, that’s a huge job. Where do I even begin?” I asked Reggie. As I remembered the moment I committed to the Tiananmen movement and all the pains and sacrifice I soon endured, I asked, “Will I have to endure all those pains of losing loved ones again?”
“The Lord will put us in tasks that we can handle. Consider Corrie Ten Boom: she lost so many beloved ones for protecting the Jewish people, and then, when she realized she could not do the rescue again, the Lord gave her an equally important job of reconciliation.”
“What will happen to my children?”
By that time, I almost felt the Lord was speaking through the words of Reggie, “The Lord is a very loving Lord, and he leads those with young gently. For example, even Jesus Christ did not start his ministry until his younger siblings were older and grown.”
“How about the persecutions? Will I endure all those sufferings again?”
At this time, Reggie’s response became soft and tender, “Chai Ling, because what you went through, the pain you have endured, the Lord will know how seriously you have taken this commitment and what you are prepared to do for Him...the Lord will cherish your coming to Him dearly.”
Inviting Jesus Into My Heart
At that moment, sitting in my office on a Friday afternoon, tears started pouring down my face. I became speechless and hung up the phone with Reggie before she realized I was crying. I went to the corner of the office, kneeled down, and prayed, “Dear Lord, Jesus Christ, I now accept you as my Savior and my only God. Please forgive all my sins, known or unknown, please come into my heart and guide my life.” Then I looked around, making sure no one busted my office door to see me on the floor. I waited, to see what might happen, expecting some serious fireworks, loud music, like “da da da da…” or some serious disaster, like the water tank busting again. What I got was an amazing sense of peace. It was Friday December 4th. I felt so shy about it that I waited several hours after dinner to share the news with my husband. He was so overjoyed for me and our family. He has been a devoted Christian and had been taking me to church from time to time ever since we started dating 12 years ago, and his love was very patient and complete. Now he was so happy. We shared a nice weekend together and watched more movies, King of Kings and several others. It was the first weekend in a long time I felt a complete sense of peace. Finally God was in charge!
Reunited with Fellowships
I waited until Monday and shared the news briefly with another Tiananmen friend, Feng Suo, who had attended a long prayer service with me on the 20th anniversary and had offered my soul on the altar for the Lord to enlighten. Five months later, I came to Christ and he was overjoyed to hear it. He has a unique story and I would like to share it. He was at Tiananmen with us and was on the most wanted list as I was. Unfortunately, he was handed over by his family members and spent several years in jail. 10 years ago, he came to America and was feeling equally devastated. The overseas democracy movement was not successful and his heart was filled with revenge and frustration. That was the moment he came to Christ and released the burden to the Lord to find renewed peace and strength. It was His bringing Fang Zheng out of China and introducing me to his testimony about Christ that started the chain events that transformed my life.
Bob Fu, another friend who is leading China’s family church movement, heard the news and sent me a warm welcoming message. Boli, who was our deputy commander at Tiananmen and who spent two years in the underground and found Christ during his journey is now a minster in America. He also welcomed me. Another friend, Xiong Yan, who was also a leader at Tiananmen, spent several years in jail and is now a minster serving in the US Army as a Chaplin. He came back from Iraq and also sent me a nice note. In a matter of few days, my long lost friends had been reunited with me through the event of my coming to Christ. This time, our bundling and trust are further strengthened by our shared faith.
The last one was Reggie, the dear sister who led me through the finishing line to Christ. She screamed for joy when I told her. After she calmed down, Reggie sent me more books and CDs to continue my walk and learning about Christ. She suggested from her home out West that I come to Park Street Church and find a Bible study mentor. That was how we are here today; we met Park Street’s wonderful senior minister Gordon, our new friend the Rev. John Chung, and that spiritual Bible mentor I prayed to find: sweet Tammy who is standing with me here today.
Finding Park Street, Experiencing Transformation
Even though it has only been 4 months, I can’t begin to list all the amazing transformations God has done to us and through us. First, upon my conversion, God performed a miracle reunion through a work we supported on finding trafficked children in China: a young girl lost at age 7 was reunited with her family 25 years later. He prevented my father from dying of a sudden heart attack by letting him discover that he has leukemia, and through prayer on Christmas Eve we learned that God had made sure his leukemia was the least fatal type--that he has a chance of full recovery with medication. God started healing my long neglected health, and I even started losing that stubborn baby fat. God brought my children to Him and now I felt a great sense of peace that our Lord will be watching over them and bringing the best for their lives---the best gift parents could give to their children. Our marriage blossomed as we never knew with more intimacy, joy and love after the Lord drew both of us closer to Him. Our careers are changing too, interestingly, we feel an even greater sense of purpose and peace as we move ahead with our work. A book, a longer version of our journey, is being finished in record time and I believe only the Lord can get it done that fast. I am embraced with a new community of faithful people like Tammy, who is a great spiritual teacher and mentor. She is generously committing her time to do a weekly Bible study with me going through the four basic steps of what to do when you became a new Christian. All my life, I have been struggling and fighting on my own, I never felt so completely welcomed, coached and embraced. I am home, at last.
As I look into China, my whole life finally makes sense. It was the underground family church movement that led me to Tiananmen when that older graduate student shared their story and inspired me to action, and it was the Tiananmen massacre that exposed the truth about the Communist regime. In the past 20 years, as China lost its belief in Communism, God replaced it with a new true one: today, over 100 million Christians have emerged in China. If you add those devoted and brave Buddhists---in my book, they are Christians by their Fruits, even though they may not know it yet. That number of people embracing God’s spirit is even greater. God has used his mighty power to bring the good news to the most populous nation on earth. As He delivered Israel out of Egypt, God is delivering China from the grips of Communism---where they had stolen some of the good doctrines of Christianity, but used it not to serve God, but to worship man.
The Lord and China
It gave me so much faith to see that our God is such a loving and kind God, despite all the evil things the country of China has done to Him and his followers, such as killing missionaries and Chinese Christians in the early 19th century. In all of these things, He has never forsaken China. Even though as I grew up we were not allowed to know God, God was in every part of our lives He answered my prayers even I did not know how to do a perfect prayer and made me into an outstanding student, able to escape that small fishing village; He unleashed such a powerful movement of love and peace to move the world to help collapse the communist regimes--evenhe Berlin Wall came down.Wewere given a Bible at the beginning of my escape from Tiananmen but we were too foolish saying “What good is a Bible going to do to help me hide?” He even transformed those brave Buddhists to protect us. And I can see how in each of the trials and tribulations, God did not stop the bad things from happening, but made sure an angel would be with me through the rough journey. When we thought we were starting a democracy movement, and shouted out all man are born equal. Now I know I can speak it in confidence because God has created men and women equal in the image of him!
God’s love is so immense. Today, I truly understand the tremendous love God and Christ had for us when Christ was being nailed to the cross. As we felt on the night of June 3rd, as we were facing the last hour to give up the most precious life and love we had, Christ sacrificed himself so we can be reunited with God, and be given eternal life in heaven with Him00not face the eternal darkness alone. On that night, Christ was sacrificed like the many ants burned to death in my story, so a new nation could be reborn to be God’s children.
God’s forgiveness is so complete, that even one of the two criminals, who was crucified with Him, when he repented for his sins, was promised by Christ that he would be in Heaven. If only the leaders of China could have heard the news:no matter what they have done and have committed, if only they repent, they can receive the same kind of love and forgiveness we all receive. What a great gift they will receive! Freedom for themselves and for China, at last!
God’s power is so mighty and his victory is so definite. That’s the meaning of the resurrection---the part I did not understand as well as I did about Him parting the Red Sea and delivering Israel. So in all trials and tribulations, God’s plan will succeed. It is not a question of “If”, but rather “when” and “how” He has decided to accomplish His masterful plan. God is victory!
Praise be to the Lord! I believe that day is coming when my Chinese sisters and brothers will be free to worship Jesus Christ the Lord without fear. With that, the United States and the free world will continue to stay free.
The Lord is Risen! Freedom at last! Thank you for letting me share my testimony with you on this special day.
In 2004 I happened upon a snippet of an article which spoke of ekthesis, the word for infant exposure in Greek antiquity. I was dumbfounded to learn that girls were still being left in the elements to die, just because they were female. Today we use the term gendercide.
Having learned of the modern practice, my rage looked for a place to turn. The release came through my writing craft. What if I could create a fictional story illustrating a society practicing gendercide? What if that story could raise awareness and sympathy, and ultimately action against the atrocity?...
by Bethany Blankley, Christian Post Op-Ed Contributor
Recent reports reveal the costly socio-economic and human reality of four decades of gendercide in China. Gendercide is sex-selective abortion, which has resulted in the murder of girls (born or unborn) at disproportionately higher rates than boys. Gendercide is a direct result of China's One Child Policy.
If the consequences of China's policies are not seriously heeded, tragedies of...