The second weekend in June 2012, Brian and I took a train from Hangzhou to Shanghai. Expectations were high as we each planned to meet with potential employers, in addition to attending an invigorating talk by a Christian investor. This investor was supporting ethical businesses in some of the toughest places on earth, which was exactly the sort of work that Brian and I wanted to promote and do ourselves. My parents had graciously gifted us two nights at a Marriott hotel, where we could enjoy the rare treat of a hot tub, sauna, gym, and posh restaurant. We clinked our wine glasses one night in the hotel lounge after some good interviews. On the train ride back to Hangzhou, I got teary-eyed as I listened to a playlist of worship music and gazed at the burgeoning urban landscape that was whizzing by my window. I was brimming with joy at the prospect that God was not only leading us to greener pastures, but was also overlapping Brian's and my callings for the first time in our marriage. No more passing the "trailing spouse" baton back and forth. We now saw professional prospects for both of us, as all roads led to Shanghai.
Until the next Friday, June 15th. That's when the calls came in that the jobs weren't happening. Our current visas were expiring in six weeks, and we now had no idea how we were supposed to secure income and visas to stay in China come August.
Saturday the 16th and Sunday the 17th are a blur. I think I went to a nearby bar that Friday night with some friends. I only had one beer, but I mostly wanted to drown myself in loud music so I couldn't hear my thoughts. I think we attended a movie at a theater across town, just to get out of the apartment and out of my head. I think I met with friends at one of China's charming street barbeques that pop up on every sidewalk after sunset, yet all that sticks with me is the fog and the loneliness. I think we went to church. Honestly, all I remember was the feeling of not wanting to remember.
On Monday, June 18th, I started a fast. I told God I would not eat again until I had answers. Why, in the name of all that is holy, had these jobs fallen apart? Why would yet another potential employer show us the sky, then seemingly shove our noses into the ground? Why had we moved to China in the first place if we were only going to be jerked around, over and over again?
Saturday and Sunday, I wanted to forget. On Monday, as I fasted, I felt called to remember.
I am going to copy and paste portions of my journal entry from that day, where I even recount the hour and minute I wrote. At the time, I felt the weight of every second. I'm not proud of some of what I wrote in my journal entries below, but I want to be honest about my motives and feelings at the time. I trust that showing my weaknesses, blindspots, and failures gives God the glory all the more. I'll omit a few sentences, and will protect the privacy of some whose names I mentioned that day (and who may likely read this blog :). Otherwise, I want to recount as accurately as possible where I was with God on June 18, 2012, three days after everything 摔破了 (fell and smashed to pieces).
Monday, June 18, 2012: 12:38pm
Here I am. I am before you now, no distractions. You’ve brought me to this place, and you know I say that bittersweetly. Lord, we have tried. We have worked our asses off the past few months to make connections, put ourselves out there, listen. We’ve done the best we can, Lord. Try our hearts and see. At what point did I feel convicted to do something and not do it? I have not let the humblest of tasks fall from me.
Please Lord. I feel like we are on the verge of something. I recount all of this now for my sake and for yours. You and I have had quite an emotional experience this year. I’ve come to love you even more for it, yet hurt so badly, too. I’ve suffered more pain this year than I ever thought possible. And both good times and bad, I want to recount them here.
We want so badly to serve you. We gave up social status, security, friendships, everything to come here. You know that. You know how painful it was to turn in our notice slips in DC and quit our jobs. By quitting our jobs, we gave up social status, security, everything. We said “NO” to the American dream and its potential to define us. We said we hope in something more, that we hope in another way. We believed you had a reason to call us to this country on the other side of the world with its weird language and culture. With its filthy streets, incessant car honking, and bewildering customs. We said “NO” to the known and the standard, and “YES” to the unknown. We knew no one here. You gave us only the most tenuous of social connections here. It hurt so much in some ways to come here with no relationships, yet we felt called nonetheless. So we came.
You put us through hell, Lord. Or maybe more accurately, you threw us into the deep end of a pool of nothing, absolutely nothing, to protect us, define us, take care of us. It was only you and us. We had no one here to help us, no advocate, nothing. You know how much it hurt, sweet Jesus. Yet you met us in that, Lord. In the depths of deep pain and darkness we know you were there. You stripped us of all pride, all myopic vision. You broke us down to build us back up.
We praise you for what you have done in our lives, Lord. You have done a lot. You provided us what we needed when we needed it. You have brought healing and growth to this apartment.
While we don’t know details, you have spoken a “NO!” to abuse and to broken marriages. We have prayed for our neighbors above us, as well as for our Chinese teachers, to have healing in their marriages. We don’t know details, but at least there is less wailing and screaming upstairs.
You have protected us from evil, Lord. We have encountered people who very likely would have hurt us and torn us down, yet you protected us. We are incredibly aware of how vulnerable we are here. You have protected us. Like the Israelites in Psalm 105: 12-15, we praise you, saying, “When they were few in number, of little account, and strangers in it, wandering from nation to nation, from one kingdom to another people, he allowed no one to oppress them; he rebuked kings on their account, saying, ‘do not touch my anointed ones; do my prophets no harm.’” You protected us, though few in number we are.
So we praise you for all these things. You have blessed our marriage, and strengthened our character. We know we are better, stronger, bolder, and more compassionate people because of this year. We have been sick so much this year, Lord. Yet you have healed us, even when I was severely ill a few months ago. You know we have minimal health coverage, yet you have sustained us. You have protected us from danger.
We cried out to you in anguish when we didn’t know how we were going to have internet to communicate back home. Yet you provided. My computer’s power cord died at one point, and I have no idea how I would get another. Yet you somehow fixed it.
How many times have we prayed for a taxi and one has come? Or for encouragement from home for people we only contact occasionally, and they have responded? You have been present and precious to us, Lord. You have taught us the value of intercessory prayer. When we have asked others to pray, you have answered. And we have prayed for others, and they have seen you answer prayers in miraculous ways. Thank you, Lord. Your Kingdom is breaking through with each passing day.
You have taught me the value of glorifying your name and your name alone. In DC, everyone is obsessed with promoting their own name. You have killed that part of ourselves, and given us a passion to promote only your name. All other names and institutions will pass away, yet by your name people are saved, liberated, healed, transformed, redeemed, renewed. May we thirst for your name above all others. Our names mean nothing apart from you.
So I do praise you, Lord. I know you have been present, and it is good for me to recount all of these things now.
Yet I write to you with pain in my heart as well, Lord. We have tried to live every day and every minute here with open hands and hearts. We have tried desperately to be open to what you have for us. We confess, Lord, that at first we did these things to promote ourselves. We confess we wanted to jump back into the boat of comfort, security, safety, and conformity ASAP. We wanted a cushy job and impressive job title, and wanted to prove ourselves.
Yet try our hearts, now. You have purified and disciplined us, and I think our motives are pure now. Maybe not 100% because we are sinful people, but you know we care now just about having a vision to work towards for serving your Kingdom. Last year, we “knew” we were supposed to move to China as students. We couldn’t avoid it—everywhere we turned, every other option we pursued was shut to us. And we knew the timing was yours. We don’t doubt for one moment we followed your will and your invitation here, in the capacity as students. No matter how difficult or how painful or how confusing, we knew in our minds and in our guts we did the right thing.
Yet I ask for that now for us, Lord. What hurts so much is last week, it seemed like we “knew” again that you were leading us to Shanghai. I confess maybe part of us wanted a slightly cushy job, but you know the past few days we just wanted a job that could pay expenses.
We also thought, Lord, that Brian and his potential boss in Shanghai “clicked.” It seemed like a good fit, it seemed like you were bringing Brian’s and my backgrounds and expertise together to serve your purpose. How rich that afternoon last week felt! It felt like you had brought us to the mountaintop to gaze into the future of your exciting plans.
Because the mountaintop felt so high, the crash hurt all the more. Now we hear that this door for Brian that had looked so promising is to no avail. So what now, Lord? The vision we had last weekend seems to have folded and collapsed. Yes, we are limping along with my part-time work. Yet how do we get visas to stay in country? Would it pay enough? What would Brian do?
We don’t have the same core conviction in our guts about any potential options here of studying language more or teaching English that we did about coming to Hangzhou to study Chinese. You know we are people of vision, Lord. You created us that way. We are inspired by what you are doing in the world, and draw our energy from that. So where are you in this situation? How are you working?
Sure, you’ve called me to pray and to fast today. I praise you that I feel less despair and anger and hurt than what I felt this weekend. Our current visas expire July 31st. You know all of this.
So what do I pray for, Lord? I really have no idea how to discern your will in this situation. I don’t know what to do, or how to go forward. So I come before you in confusion and with outstretched hands.
Are we supposed to begin yet ANOTHER round of conversation/introductions with connections? We confess we are EXHAUSTED from the job search. Are we supposed to go at it again, even after so many failures? What does it mean, Lord?
Light from one doorway seems to beckon us, only to have that door slammed in our faces. What does it mean, Lord?
How do I pray? Where do I start? You know I’ve been interceding for others. Lead me in my prayers, Lord. You know I am tired, yet I am seeking you. Speak to us, sweet Jesus. Sustain Brian in this job search. Give us your peace, Lord. It is so difficult to follow you, and we are disoriented now. We seek you. May your face shine upon us. Sweet Jesus.
2:06pm
I am feeling a little tired, Lord. You know I haven’t slept well the past couple days, and yes I am weakening myself on purpose in prayer and fasting the next few days. I don’t know how long the prayer and fasting will last. I confess I come before you more in a military capacity—like Esther calling a fast, or the Ninevites fasting in Jonah. I fast in the face of crisis. I fast in the face of wondering where you are. It feels like you have hidden your face from us. You have withdrawn, and you aren’t present now. So I’m looking for you, in your Holy Scriptures, in commentaries, in prayer. I am seeking you, Lord.
Perhaps you spend so much time seeking us, and we don’t listen. Forgive me for the times when you seek us, and we don’t listen. I’d like to think I’ve learned to listen more and more this year, Lord. Perhaps I’m not the best at giving money (or dignity) to the beggars we occasionally see here. So forgive me for that. Perhaps you have looked on at me in those faces, and I have ignored them. I confess that. Give us wisdom to know how to respond to those faces. Should we always have food on us, or is a simple “Jesus loves you” enough? Help us to know, sweet Jesus. May we break free from the lie that we can’t do anything, and be willing to show love.
May I pause to listen for your voice. Please speak, Lord. May I have ears to hear.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012. 7:22am
Thank you for today. Thank you for your presence the past couple days in this time of prayer and fasting. I know you have been present with us. Yet we still wait for an answer for the “big one” in our lives. While we have felt some reassurance and your presence the past few days, we still are not sure what to pray for.
I confess that part of the reason these jobs in Shanghai appeal to us is because they hold the potential for more wealth. I want this wealth not as much as a status symbol (like I did before), but more because I finally wanted something to come “easy.”
But perhaps the message you are sending us is that even if we get jobs like what we expected in Shanghai, it won’t be easy. That we are supposed to stay dependent on you and not be so autonomous. I admit this is a very hard message for me to hear in some ways. But we want to be faithful, Jesus. So if this is the message we need to hear, so be it. May our hearts accept whatever you are bringing to us. And please give us joy (and not dread) for it.
Jesus, please help me to know if I am supposed to break my fast today or not. I partially feel like I’m supposed to. I confess I partly fasted as a hunger strike to try to force your hand. I know deep down I cannot do that Lord, so forgive me. But even in the fast, I’ve enjoyed feasting on your Word and Scripture. It has been a sweet time, though painful when I am not sure what is ahead.
The evening of June 20th, I ended my fast with no job clarity. I could not force God's hand, and I needed to eat. As June 2012 came to a close, God still did not give us easy answers. Here are my final thoughts from that month:
God, thank you for yesterday’s message from Genesis 22 about Abraham’s willingnesss to sacrifice Isaac. Obviously it’s a hard and troublesome passage, Lord, yet Brian and I also want to be willing to sacrifice our own “Isaac” of ambition and control over our careers. So please accept our repentance and cries for mercy, Lord (June 25th).
God, I pray that Brian and I can continue to wait on you. I confess I’m still not exactly sure how you’re working in this situation. But I want to trust, Lord (June 28th).
In June 2012, many of our assumptions and dreams for China 摔破了. We waited on God to put the pieces back together again.
Until the next Friday, June 15th. That's when the calls came in that the jobs weren't happening. Our current visas were expiring in six weeks, and we now had no idea how we were supposed to secure income and visas to stay in China come August.
Saturday the 16th and Sunday the 17th are a blur. I think I went to a nearby bar that Friday night with some friends. I only had one beer, but I mostly wanted to drown myself in loud music so I couldn't hear my thoughts. I think we attended a movie at a theater across town, just to get out of the apartment and out of my head. I think I met with friends at one of China's charming street barbeques that pop up on every sidewalk after sunset, yet all that sticks with me is the fog and the loneliness. I think we went to church. Honestly, all I remember was the feeling of not wanting to remember.
On Monday, June 18th, I started a fast. I told God I would not eat again until I had answers. Why, in the name of all that is holy, had these jobs fallen apart? Why would yet another potential employer show us the sky, then seemingly shove our noses into the ground? Why had we moved to China in the first place if we were only going to be jerked around, over and over again?
Saturday and Sunday, I wanted to forget. On Monday, as I fasted, I felt called to remember.
I am going to copy and paste portions of my journal entry from that day, where I even recount the hour and minute I wrote. At the time, I felt the weight of every second. I'm not proud of some of what I wrote in my journal entries below, but I want to be honest about my motives and feelings at the time. I trust that showing my weaknesses, blindspots, and failures gives God the glory all the more. I'll omit a few sentences, and will protect the privacy of some whose names I mentioned that day (and who may likely read this blog :). Otherwise, I want to recount as accurately as possible where I was with God on June 18, 2012, three days after everything 摔破了 (fell and smashed to pieces).
Monday, June 18, 2012: 12:38pm
Here I am. I am before you now, no distractions. You’ve brought me to this place, and you know I say that bittersweetly. Lord, we have tried. We have worked our asses off the past few months to make connections, put ourselves out there, listen. We’ve done the best we can, Lord. Try our hearts and see. At what point did I feel convicted to do something and not do it? I have not let the humblest of tasks fall from me.
Please Lord. I feel like we are on the verge of something. I recount all of this now for my sake and for yours. You and I have had quite an emotional experience this year. I’ve come to love you even more for it, yet hurt so badly, too. I’ve suffered more pain this year than I ever thought possible. And both good times and bad, I want to recount them here.
We want so badly to serve you. We gave up social status, security, friendships, everything to come here. You know that. You know how painful it was to turn in our notice slips in DC and quit our jobs. By quitting our jobs, we gave up social status, security, everything. We said “NO” to the American dream and its potential to define us. We said we hope in something more, that we hope in another way. We believed you had a reason to call us to this country on the other side of the world with its weird language and culture. With its filthy streets, incessant car honking, and bewildering customs. We said “NO” to the known and the standard, and “YES” to the unknown. We knew no one here. You gave us only the most tenuous of social connections here. It hurt so much in some ways to come here with no relationships, yet we felt called nonetheless. So we came.
You put us through hell, Lord. Or maybe more accurately, you threw us into the deep end of a pool of nothing, absolutely nothing, to protect us, define us, take care of us. It was only you and us. We had no one here to help us, no advocate, nothing. You know how much it hurt, sweet Jesus. Yet you met us in that, Lord. In the depths of deep pain and darkness we know you were there. You stripped us of all pride, all myopic vision. You broke us down to build us back up.
We praise you for what you have done in our lives, Lord. You have done a lot. You provided us what we needed when we needed it. You have brought healing and growth to this apartment.
While we don’t know details, you have spoken a “NO!” to abuse and to broken marriages. We have prayed for our neighbors above us, as well as for our Chinese teachers, to have healing in their marriages. We don’t know details, but at least there is less wailing and screaming upstairs.
You have protected us from evil, Lord. We have encountered people who very likely would have hurt us and torn us down, yet you protected us. We are incredibly aware of how vulnerable we are here. You have protected us. Like the Israelites in Psalm 105: 12-15, we praise you, saying, “When they were few in number, of little account, and strangers in it, wandering from nation to nation, from one kingdom to another people, he allowed no one to oppress them; he rebuked kings on their account, saying, ‘do not touch my anointed ones; do my prophets no harm.’” You protected us, though few in number we are.
So we praise you for all these things. You have blessed our marriage, and strengthened our character. We know we are better, stronger, bolder, and more compassionate people because of this year. We have been sick so much this year, Lord. Yet you have healed us, even when I was severely ill a few months ago. You know we have minimal health coverage, yet you have sustained us. You have protected us from danger.
We cried out to you in anguish when we didn’t know how we were going to have internet to communicate back home. Yet you provided. My computer’s power cord died at one point, and I have no idea how I would get another. Yet you somehow fixed it.
How many times have we prayed for a taxi and one has come? Or for encouragement from home for people we only contact occasionally, and they have responded? You have been present and precious to us, Lord. You have taught us the value of intercessory prayer. When we have asked others to pray, you have answered. And we have prayed for others, and they have seen you answer prayers in miraculous ways. Thank you, Lord. Your Kingdom is breaking through with each passing day.
You have taught me the value of glorifying your name and your name alone. In DC, everyone is obsessed with promoting their own name. You have killed that part of ourselves, and given us a passion to promote only your name. All other names and institutions will pass away, yet by your name people are saved, liberated, healed, transformed, redeemed, renewed. May we thirst for your name above all others. Our names mean nothing apart from you.
So I do praise you, Lord. I know you have been present, and it is good for me to recount all of these things now.
Yet I write to you with pain in my heart as well, Lord. We have tried to live every day and every minute here with open hands and hearts. We have tried desperately to be open to what you have for us. We confess, Lord, that at first we did these things to promote ourselves. We confess we wanted to jump back into the boat of comfort, security, safety, and conformity ASAP. We wanted a cushy job and impressive job title, and wanted to prove ourselves.
Yet try our hearts, now. You have purified and disciplined us, and I think our motives are pure now. Maybe not 100% because we are sinful people, but you know we care now just about having a vision to work towards for serving your Kingdom. Last year, we “knew” we were supposed to move to China as students. We couldn’t avoid it—everywhere we turned, every other option we pursued was shut to us. And we knew the timing was yours. We don’t doubt for one moment we followed your will and your invitation here, in the capacity as students. No matter how difficult or how painful or how confusing, we knew in our minds and in our guts we did the right thing.
Yet I ask for that now for us, Lord. What hurts so much is last week, it seemed like we “knew” again that you were leading us to Shanghai. I confess maybe part of us wanted a slightly cushy job, but you know the past few days we just wanted a job that could pay expenses.
We also thought, Lord, that Brian and his potential boss in Shanghai “clicked.” It seemed like a good fit, it seemed like you were bringing Brian’s and my backgrounds and expertise together to serve your purpose. How rich that afternoon last week felt! It felt like you had brought us to the mountaintop to gaze into the future of your exciting plans.
Because the mountaintop felt so high, the crash hurt all the more. Now we hear that this door for Brian that had looked so promising is to no avail. So what now, Lord? The vision we had last weekend seems to have folded and collapsed. Yes, we are limping along with my part-time work. Yet how do we get visas to stay in country? Would it pay enough? What would Brian do?
We don’t have the same core conviction in our guts about any potential options here of studying language more or teaching English that we did about coming to Hangzhou to study Chinese. You know we are people of vision, Lord. You created us that way. We are inspired by what you are doing in the world, and draw our energy from that. So where are you in this situation? How are you working?
Sure, you’ve called me to pray and to fast today. I praise you that I feel less despair and anger and hurt than what I felt this weekend. Our current visas expire July 31st. You know all of this.
So what do I pray for, Lord? I really have no idea how to discern your will in this situation. I don’t know what to do, or how to go forward. So I come before you in confusion and with outstretched hands.
Are we supposed to begin yet ANOTHER round of conversation/introductions with connections? We confess we are EXHAUSTED from the job search. Are we supposed to go at it again, even after so many failures? What does it mean, Lord?
Light from one doorway seems to beckon us, only to have that door slammed in our faces. What does it mean, Lord?
How do I pray? Where do I start? You know I’ve been interceding for others. Lead me in my prayers, Lord. You know I am tired, yet I am seeking you. Speak to us, sweet Jesus. Sustain Brian in this job search. Give us your peace, Lord. It is so difficult to follow you, and we are disoriented now. We seek you. May your face shine upon us. Sweet Jesus.
2:06pm
I am feeling a little tired, Lord. You know I haven’t slept well the past couple days, and yes I am weakening myself on purpose in prayer and fasting the next few days. I don’t know how long the prayer and fasting will last. I confess I come before you more in a military capacity—like Esther calling a fast, or the Ninevites fasting in Jonah. I fast in the face of crisis. I fast in the face of wondering where you are. It feels like you have hidden your face from us. You have withdrawn, and you aren’t present now. So I’m looking for you, in your Holy Scriptures, in commentaries, in prayer. I am seeking you, Lord.
Perhaps you spend so much time seeking us, and we don’t listen. Forgive me for the times when you seek us, and we don’t listen. I’d like to think I’ve learned to listen more and more this year, Lord. Perhaps I’m not the best at giving money (or dignity) to the beggars we occasionally see here. So forgive me for that. Perhaps you have looked on at me in those faces, and I have ignored them. I confess that. Give us wisdom to know how to respond to those faces. Should we always have food on us, or is a simple “Jesus loves you” enough? Help us to know, sweet Jesus. May we break free from the lie that we can’t do anything, and be willing to show love.
May I pause to listen for your voice. Please speak, Lord. May I have ears to hear.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012. 7:22am
Thank you for today. Thank you for your presence the past couple days in this time of prayer and fasting. I know you have been present with us. Yet we still wait for an answer for the “big one” in our lives. While we have felt some reassurance and your presence the past few days, we still are not sure what to pray for.
I confess that part of the reason these jobs in Shanghai appeal to us is because they hold the potential for more wealth. I want this wealth not as much as a status symbol (like I did before), but more because I finally wanted something to come “easy.”
But perhaps the message you are sending us is that even if we get jobs like what we expected in Shanghai, it won’t be easy. That we are supposed to stay dependent on you and not be so autonomous. I admit this is a very hard message for me to hear in some ways. But we want to be faithful, Jesus. So if this is the message we need to hear, so be it. May our hearts accept whatever you are bringing to us. And please give us joy (and not dread) for it.
Jesus, please help me to know if I am supposed to break my fast today or not. I partially feel like I’m supposed to. I confess I partly fasted as a hunger strike to try to force your hand. I know deep down I cannot do that Lord, so forgive me. But even in the fast, I’ve enjoyed feasting on your Word and Scripture. It has been a sweet time, though painful when I am not sure what is ahead.
The evening of June 20th, I ended my fast with no job clarity. I could not force God's hand, and I needed to eat. As June 2012 came to a close, God still did not give us easy answers. Here are my final thoughts from that month:
God, thank you for yesterday’s message from Genesis 22 about Abraham’s willingnesss to sacrifice Isaac. Obviously it’s a hard and troublesome passage, Lord, yet Brian and I also want to be willing to sacrifice our own “Isaac” of ambition and control over our careers. So please accept our repentance and cries for mercy, Lord (June 25th).
God, I pray that Brian and I can continue to wait on you. I confess I’m still not exactly sure how you’re working in this situation. But I want to trust, Lord (June 28th).
In June 2012, many of our assumptions and dreams for China 摔破了. We waited on God to put the pieces back together again.