Safely Home

by Randy Alcorn

more Christians in China are currently in prison for their faith than in any other country.

It is still illegal to teach children under eighteen about God and Jesus. It is still illegal for three or more believers to gather for religious purposes without government approval.

fining 120 of them with an “interrogation tax.”

Minghua meant “bright flower.”

“Ni hao,” Quan said. “How are you?”

“Ping an—peace to you,”

“Zhu, wo men gan xie ni feng fu de zhu fu. Lord, we give you thanks for your abundant blessing.”

“Xiexie, thank you,”

‘No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the Kingdom of God.’”

“Bie dong!” Li Quan stiffened at the shouted command not to move.

“God brought me here for a season, to train me, give me credentials.

The weapon of xiuchi, shame,

But he always wanted his father to be proud of him, not ashamed. He never stopped longing to hear his father say to him, “Well done.”

“We acted like the midwives in Egypt and Rahab in Jericho. They deceived that lives might be saved. If we were wrong, forgive us.”

Deep in his soul, Li Quan longed for peace, for assurance, for his father’s approval.

“The more you sweat in peacetime, the less you bleed during war.”

For Ben’s body, it was late Monday, but all over China, with its single time zone, it was sixteen hours later,

Yangtze River delta, where Asia’s longest and most important river completed its 5,500-kilometer journey to the Pacific.

strategically poised to do business with the one-fifth of the human race who lived in China.

Shanghai was the home of one-fifth of all the world’s construction cranes.

Nanjing Donglu boasted a higher concentration of people, buses, cars, and bicycles than any other street in the world.

Ironic, Ben thought, that the Communist Party had been born in Shanghai.

Shanghai was the city that defeated the economics of Mao.

The ponchos draped over the handlebars, showing only colors and wheels.

“Those who have not seen Shanghai have not seen the world.”

“Liang cai—huangua, xi hongshi.” “A cold dish is fine—tomatoes and cucumbers are perfect,”

“A book holds a house of gold.”

“I am Chinese. We think in pictures. We invented the proverb.

“This is xigua, correct?” Ben asked. “Watermelon.

“Kuaizi are fine,” Ben said, picking up his chopsticks

“Tamen hen hao. They are fine.”

“Bu—no, size

“Xiexie. Thank you very much,”

elders stood under the trees doing tai ji quan exercises.

stopped to observe three curbside doctors.

“In China,” Quan said, “copyright means ‘right to copy.’”

‘Those who say it cannot be done should not interrupt the person doing it.’”

You say, ‘Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.’ We say, ‘Do not cook your hunting dog.’”

You know the meaning of jiangxi?” “No.” “Despair of the elderly. Many commit suicide. With all the changes, the elderly feel out of place. Useless. Helpless. They do not know what their hearts are searching for. There is much depression in China, much hopelessness.

“It is almost xiuxi. The shops will close for two or three hours.

tongzhi, ‘comrade,’

‘If you give God everything you have, he will provide everything you need.’

Beijing had a bishop eight hundred years ago. The church is one of the oldest institutions in all China.

Let not moss-covered error move thee at its side, As the world on truth’s current glides by. Be the herald of light, and the bearer of love, Till the stock of the Puritans die.”

They sat on the floor, hands busy, minds free.

When men know they cannot hope in a country, in a political belief, or in themselves, they become free to hope in God.”

He got a bucket of ice and positioned into it a bottle of mao-tai, 150 proof.

You can only disbelieve in God so long before a society is corrupt. America is an example, is it not?”

You do not yet understand—some promises made in one world cannot be fulfilled until the next.”

“I know something of suffering, Ben Fielding. I have learned God is not my servant.