上帝带领我去哪?
我渐渐意识到,上帝呼召我做的,并不是离开教会,而是尽自己的一份力量,填补我在教会中看见的缺口。
我渐渐意识到,上帝呼召我做的,并不是离开教会,而是尽自己的一份力量,填补我在教会中看见的缺口。
Behind every name is a real person—a person with blood and tears, love and loss, shame and confusion, and a longing to be loved, forgiven, and given a new beginning.
All of a sudden, what started as a random set of strangers in a country I knew nearly nothing about outside of my middle school world history class, became God’s children whom he loved and the most important people in my life.
His life is remembered not only in the seminaries he helped build or the roles he held, but in the people he shaped, the faith he carried through hardship, and the conviction, tested across decades, that God’s work is not sustained by wealth, but by grace.
The cross did not remove the reality of pain—it reframed it.
I've always thought myself to be as capable as an eagle, but this verse taught me that even the strength of eagles comes from the Lord.
There is no cross, no pulpit, and no choir. Three chairs surround a small tea table, a phone plays hymns, and a well-worn Bible rests nearby—the humble beginnings of a church.
It is hard to imagine that this pastor—now fluent in Scripture and prayer—had once devoted years to Daoist medicine and Buddhist practice, even preparing to become a monk
In northern China, there is a large family that has followed Christ for nearly a century and has given birth to preachers for four consecutive generations.
The gospel does not erase the challenges of being a stranger, but God meets us in them.
He carried a knightly spirit, expansive in presence, yet gentle in manner, his manner free of the aloofness common among intellectuals. I knew immediately: this was the mentor I had been seeking.
This experience reminds me that God often uses the ordinary to do the extraordinary. Ministry doesn't require a pulpit. Sometimes it begins with a simple “Nǐ hǎo.”