Will God give a second chance?

Two days before I flew to China to teach at a children’s summer camp, Jo Jo woke up very early and came to our room. As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw him standing at our bedroom door, waiting for us to wake up.

“Mommy, I am 4-YEAR-OLD today!” He said with a huge smile.

“Happy Birthday, big boy. Let’s celebrate!” 

It was like Christmas had come that steamy summer morning in Hong Kong. 

While we opened presents in our pajamas, I realized what made this day so special - besides the Transformers, Iron Man and the Hot Wheels loop track - was how it feels to be the special kid of someone who makes a day that is just for you.

And at the end of the day, just in case I didn’t remember, God reminded me again. 

“I love my birthday!” was JoJo’s simple prayer before bedtime. 

Then I flew to China with this word on my heart.  

We had over 40 volunteers from different parts of China, the Philippines, Korea and America and more than a hundred children of migrant workers from outside town. 

The second day of the camp, a volunteer from America came up to me,

“Cassy, I was just talking to Kate, (a wonderful girl from the Father’s House) and she doesn’t know when her birthday is. How is this possible?” 

My heart remembered the word from God. 

“...how it feels to be the special kid of someone who makes a day just for you.” 

That night, I stared at the ceiling unable to sleep.

“How can I explain so people understand what it’s like to live as a migrant kid in China?”

I don’t know how long I cried. 

The One Child Policy has been in effect since 1978. Second children are aborted. Some mothers hide. Those who can afford it go overseas to give birth or pay the fine.

Only the rich have choices.

The unlucky ones stay. The birthdays of these children may not be happy, and definitely are not days to be celebrated. For these children, their birthdays mean the beginning of a life of hiding, living as outcasts in the alleyways of society. Most of these children will never know their birthdays. 

And yet, experts estimate at least 4 million of these children somehow survive in China. 

NO birth certificate. 

No I.D. and no chance of a passport. 

They DO NOT exist. 

They will never know a proper education and never have a proper job.  

Unrecognized, uncelebrated, and deprived of the most basic human right - the right to existence.  

I thought of JoJo’s face when he opened his first present - a Transformer, of course - but I can’t stop the pain knowing all my other kids at the Father’s House will never know what it is to have a special day just for them. A day when someone celebrates them. 

I used to take care of disadvantaged children in China as a job, as a worker. Now, as a mother, I see these children as a mom does. And I want them to have nothing but the best.

Exiles in their Own Country.

On the third day, after all the skits and teaching. The kids were dismissed to activities. 

A female volunteer came to me, a Chinese university professor.  

“Thanks for teaching these migrant children. Our country has abandoned them. We should start a training school to train boys to be factory workers and girls as house helpers.”

I bit my lip. “Do you have children?” I asked, hoping I was hiding my true feelings toward this well intentioned idea.

“I did not break the law. I have only one child.”

“Where is he now?” I asked.

The proud mother replied, “We spent everything we had to send him to Canada. He’s graduating this year and he just told us on the phone that he’s not coming back. My husband and I are getting old and now we don’t have anyone who will take care of us. But I don’t blame my child for not coming back. We just want to give our son the best.” 

This was a good woman with good intentions, but is it any mother’s dream for her children to face exile or be forced to survive as slaves of the Chinese system on $180 U.S. dollars per month?

The summer camp was a huge success in many ways. On our last day, all of the children heard that they were deeply loved by God and that with Him, Nothing is impossible.

Then we asked them to share their dreams.

“I’d like to be a teacher!” one boy proudly declared.

“I’ll be a lawyer. To make sure there’s justice.”

I yearned for God to hear their prayers.

I sought out Kate to ask her what she wanted to be. 

At first, she didn’t answer. But then I watched as her face changed and she began to sob uncontrollable tears.

She may not remember her birthday, but she is old enough to know that if something doesn’t change, the best she can hope for... is to be someone else’s servant. 

Today, as you are reading this, I pray that you will believe God can bring a special day for those denied existence and we will stand up for them to end one of the worst violations of human rights in history. 

Will you stand with us? 

Bloodstains on my chopstick.

To say that I was scared to meet Nai Nai, the beggar leader of Xiao Se, would be an understatement.

I had heard a lot of horror stories regarding beggars in China. A lot of them were controlled and organized by gangs. And standing in front of a McDonald's waiting for Xiao Se to show up, I just couldn't stop going through all the worst case scenarios in my mind: 

"I could be easily robbed. After all, I'm barely 5-feet tall." So I brought only a little bit of money, just enough to make them happy and leave me alone.

"Or they might kidnap me and sell me in another province."

"Oh...kidnapping is not the worst. My biggest fear was, if they turned me into one of those armless beggars."

I had to stop thinking.
I've got to be brave.
LOVE is a risky business.
I got to go, to show Xiao Se that I care about her. 

Xiao Se showed up and we took the bus. It was a long ride to the slum, a place that was so different from the glamourous cities of China:

Buildings with broken windows.
Dirty, foul smelling water draining in the streets.
Garbage everywhere.
People digging through all the garbage.
Kids running. Kids crying.
Kids relieving themselves everywhere, like dogs in the street.

But one thing disturbed me the most, was all those little clinics with big signs:

"Abortion. 30 RMB."

Life is CHEAP here, especially in a country that only allows one child to be born in every family. Being the second born, in a family of six, I wondered if my little siblings and I would have ever been born if my grandmother did not escape and swim to Hong Kong just a few decades ago.

Xiao Se led me into a very dark building. Even though it was the middle of the day, walking up the winding stairs took extra caution. There was no light and the stairs had no railing to protect you from failing through the middle. We walked up to the third floor and she opened the door. I saw... a lot of kids: newborns, toddlers, young children and teenagers, all gathered in a less than 50 square feet squatter, waiting to see me.

None of them looked alike.
But all of them were GIRLS.

"So you are the Jie Jie (Big sister) Xiao Se always talked about. Come, sit down. Have dinner with us." I was caught off-guard. Nai Nai, this so-called "leader", was surprisingly nice.

Right away, Xiao Se sat on a tiny stool, started chopping vegetables on another stool and cooked dinner on a coal stove. Burning coal... in a closed room. Thankfully, most windows were quite broken. But the smell was still unbearable.

"Why are you so nice to my girls? Our baby likes your milk powder."

"Have you heard of Jesus? He is my Lao Ban (Boss). He sent me."

"Where is he now?"

"He died. He died just so I could truly live." I carried a picture bible in my bag. I showed Nai Nai a picture of Jesus and the cross.

Nai Nai stopped asking.
She could not believe what she just heard.
One of the hardest lessons she learned during the Cultural Revolution in the 60s, was that no one died for anyone.
She looked at that Jesus on the cross.
She looked at her hands.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.

I wanted to tell her more about my wonderful Jesus.
But I did not tell. She did not ask. We just sat there. Together.
I then realized... she was having her moment with God.
And I was just there witnessing.

And with tears, she looked at me.

"Nailed through his hands? No one should die like this."
But we Chinese don't easily show our feeling to strangers.
She wiped off her tears and said,
"You come again. Let's eat."

Dinner was ready. It was pork fat with some other ingredients I did not recognize and I did not want to know. I signalled Xiao Se that my chopsticks had some fresh blood on it and she wiped them off with a nearly black cloth hanging from a broken window.

But I did not get robbed and my arms were still with me.

It was a pretty good day after all. I love my moments with God.

Xiao Se

Xiao Se was my first street friend in China.
I loved her. I still do.
But I lost her 6 years ago.
I miss her.

I first saw Xiao Se and her newborn "sister" in front of a fancy shopping mall.
For days, I bought food and sat with them on the street, hoping that she would talk to me.

I never considered helping the poor as some kind of a "ministry" like most people call it.
My motive was plain selfish, I wanted to be with Jesus.

I love Jesus and I just wanted to be with the one I love.

Xiao Se was about 10 years old. Or maybe less.
I could not tell. She did not know.

After days of silence, she finally spoke,
"Do you have a fridge at home? I have never seen one."

"I have one at home. Why don't you come check it out ?" I was excited.

We took the bus home.

"Wow. Is this what I think it is? A washing machine?"

"Oh. Is this a fridge? What is the use of it anyway?"

My roommate Emily was shocked that I brought 2 total strangers home. Ha. I could still remember her reaction and her face!

"How can a baby be this dirty!? I need to give her a bath!" Without delay, Emily snatched up the baby sister and took her to the bath.

Xiao Se and I became friends after that. I loved spending time with her. We would walk around the city, talking, eating, laughing, just having fun together.

She loved to throw trash on the road and I would always pick it up and hand it back to her. She told everyone that I was her big sister. "Be nice to her!" She commanded her "friends".

She would also introduce me to her friends,
"This boy lives close to us. I don't like his father though. His father cut both of his arms off just so they could make some money and eat."

She said it matter of fact-ly.
All the more, I tried to keep my cool.

One day, she looked at me with a deep concern,
"My nai nai wants to see you."

I knew she did not have a nai nai (grandma).
She did not have a family.

At that moment, I knew... I was in.
I was invited to meet the "leader" of the gang.
I was invited into a world I never dare entering.
A world that is no way back.

He looked at me.

Some people feel... God is far away.
But He is with us everywhere.

Years ago, driving out of an overly-crowded slum in China, I passed a man begging on the street.
I had just "finished" my work.
The kids were waiting for me to come home.

I had no time to stop.

But looking in my rear mirror, I saw him... all alone in the crowd.
I told myself I could not turn my car around. Too many people. Too narrow of an alley.
So I ended up abandoning my car in the middle of the slum.
I had to see his face.
I had to run back.

"Do... you... have a place... to stay?" Catching my breath, I kneeled down and asked.

"Yes. I do." The beggar said.

"Do you need anything? Want something to eat?"

"I am not hungry. Why did you stop?"

"Have you heard of Jesus? I just don't want to miss him."

The man looked at me intensely. Really Intensely.
He gave me a smile. I smiled back.
He waved me goodbye.

Once again, He found me.

A year ago, I posted an article: "My surgery and her Christian Dior Dress". Since then, there has been a growing number of people asking me to write about my story in China.    

But these are not my stories. 

It is God's story in the disguise of the poor in China.

"Lord, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you a drink? And when did we ever see you sick or in prison and come to you?" Then the King will say, "I'm telling you the solemn truth: whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was ME, you did it to ME." (Matthew 27:37-40 MSG)

Welcome to "My moments with God"- the re-telling of a forgotten God in every ignored person in China. 

May you see and find him,
the way He saw me and found me.

God is near... waiting to be found.

My surgery and her Christian Dior dress.

A year ago - May 9, 2011

Thanks for praying for my surgery. It went well and I am recovering rather quickly.

With our wonderful Grandma Dede, Dan was able to take me to the hospital without the kids. We went to the hospital at 11 AM and within an hour, a nurse was already pushing me to the operation room.

Before the doctor came in, the nurse and I were talking about raising kids. I told her that I had two little kids and they were full of energy. She then "encouraged" me by telling me her 16 year-old and 22 year-old never stop fighting. "Kids fight all the time, so be prepared." That's what she said. =) Then the anesthetist came in, she was going to put me under general anesthesia. As she was walking in, she saw the nurse's purse and we started talking about purses and dresses.

One thing led to another, she said, "My first Christian Dior dress was purchased 15 years ago and it was so BEAUTIFUL!! But it's so dated now that I only wear it to funerals." I laughed hard on that one, "Girls will always be girls." The nurse said. And with tears running down my face, I started falling asleep...

Tears? Why tears? Yes, I was crying a lot and lying on that surgery bed, and I was determined to find the reason behind my tears.

Is it because my flour and oil didn't come in as expected? This is the first month in years we didn't get a paycheck so all the money could go support the Father's House? Worry about money? Then I thought, "I made way more money 10 years ago when I was first out of college than now. Money never concerns me. Nope."

Is it because my faith is being tested? The few thousands dollars that we saved from our tax return was supposed to pay for our down payment on our house that we are purchasing and closing on May 20th. Now we gave that money to the Father's House also. We figured, "If we made sure our kids in China have a place to live and study, God will for sure take care of us." So faith? Am I scared that He is failing me? 

Lord... what is it? Why this "heartache"?

Then... I started having flashbacks of the first surgery I experienced in China:

My first months in China... morning after morning I went into that doctor's room which was filled with cigarette smoke. All the Chinese doctors smoking there told me I was wasting my time and money on a child that was handicapped and orphaned. And for days and then weeks, I took deep breaths and went into that smoke-filled room to persuade the doctors to save a child that was "worthless" they said. 3 weeks later, they gave my precious baby Grace a surgery. Not because they changed their ideas of "worth", but because they could not get rid of me. Yes, I am a very stuborn one.

For years, I have been praying for the Lord to open my eyes to see the field and the harvest. But when I started to see...

-A Christian lady had no choice but an abortion, only because of the one child policy.

-A mother was convinced by society that her handicapped child was worthless and needed to give him away.

-A pregnant woman had no place to hide from family and officials.

-A mother and a sick son ended up begging on the streets.

-A doctor put a sick child under general anesthesia without performing the surgery until he got more money

-An orphan beaten nearly to death and left to die on a bed filled with his own feces.

-Kids without I.D. were not allowed to go to school.

-Contractors were allowed to break into houses without police intervention until there was blood.. the police told me.

And... I then realized.... my heart was broken.... and all these" things" that I just wrote were not some statistics I saw online or in the paper. They all had names. They are my friends. Some of them we treated as our own daughters and sons. Some of them we took in until they were "safe". And now my heart aches every time I see common decency in any little way... like talking with doctors and nurses about beautilful dresses before an operation.

A chance to get an education? an I.D. just to exist? A life to be saved with or without money? Protection by the police and the law? They all seem so basic, but they all seem so IMPOSSIBLE and so far away in the country that I love dearly. 

And because of that, my tears came running down. I knew my heart will never be mended until the day I see babies will be allowed to be born and my kids at the Father's House are allowed to exist with an I.D. and to go to regular schools. 

And with tears, I fell asleep. But I knew... when I wake up, I will gain more strength to do what needs to be done. And as you are reading this, I also say a little prayer for God to open your eyes to see and to feel His heart. And I hope that together we will do what needs to be done to make this world a little more like heaven. A place with more laughter, more "Christian Dior" dresses but without the tears.

Thanks for praying for me. The surgery was a wonderful time for me to get healed spiritually.

Love,

Cassy