Privacy
was hard to come by when I was an English teacher in
southwest China. Only by God’s provision was I able to
have a personal conversation with a student. I always
prayed for these opportunities. I had 400 students. All
of them were professed atheists. Where do you even begin
to pray? I began with June. She weaseled her way into my
heart at our first meeting. I prayed for a chance to
share with her.
It was close to midnight one evening as I was jogging
around the track. Another jogger caught up to me.
“Miss Julie, can I ask you a question?” June! My
headset was off in a flash. “Miss Julie, I think
you’re a Christian.” Oh, this could be good.
“But I think you went to college.” Every spiritual
conversation I had in China started that way. An educated
person of faith? Impossible! Nothing could have prepared
me for her hunger. “I want to understand your
religion. I’ve been listening to stories on the radio
all year. I know about Daniel and the tiger. I know
about the man inside the fish. I know about Noah and the
boat. I’ve heard many, many of your stories. But I
know that the most important story in your religion is
the story of Jesus. I have never been able to find out
what his story is. Do you think you could tell me the
story of Jesus?”
My heart stopped. God’s pursuing love was at it
again. It took another six laps or so for me to share
the story of God’s sacrificial and perfect love with
this beautiful, curious sister. It was getting too late
and we had to leave the track. “I just wish I could
read these stories for myself,” said June. “But even
if I found a Bible somewhere, my English is so poor that
it would be difficult for me to study the stories in
their original language.” I was delighted to be the
one to tell June that the Bible was not written in
English! The next day I gave her a small, nondescript
English/Chinese New Testament with a plain blue cover.
Two weeks later, after our spring break, I saw June
in the classroom building. She came running up to me.
“Miss Julie! Miss Julie! There’s something happening
to my body!” Now this could mean any number of things.
My first response was one of concern. Was she in pain?
Did she need to go to the hospital? What was the
matter? “Miss Julie, my body is changing! It’s
that blue book you gave me, it’s changing my body.”
What? “I can’t stop reading that book. I’ve
already read it all several times and it’s changing my
body. Ever since I started reading it, I have got a calm
in my brain. Can I say I have ‘a calm in my brain’?
I have never had a calm in my brain like this before.
But it’s not just in my head. Now I also have a strong
in my heart! Can I say I have a ‘strong in my
heart?’ I have always wanted a strong in my heart. My
body is completely different now and it’s because of
that blue book!”
Every week after that, June would come to my
apartment and ask me great questions about the Jesus
stories. She continued to read for hours every day. One
day, a few weeks before I left the country, she came for
her weekly visit and asked her typically long list of
questions. Then she folded up her little question list
and put it in her pocket. She looked so nervous. “Miss
Julie, now I have to ask you the most important question
of all: will you baptize me?” Who, me? Where’d she
get this idea? Was she ready? Did she understand what
that meant? Why baptism? “I have been reading this
book every day and I believe that the stories are true.
The book says that if you believe it, it is good to be
baptized.” One week later we had a ceremony in my
bathroom with a few other missionary friends.
I will always treasure the letter I received from her
that following summer when I was back in Ohio.
“Remember our ‘ceremony’ in the bathroom? That day
was the happiest day of my life. I am happy to tell you,
Miss Julie, that my mom has now had the same
‘ceremony.’”
Oh the power of the stories in that little blue book!
—Julie Long is an InterVarsity area director in
Wooster, Ohio.
