寻根之旅 （接上文）

• 在大姑家的那一晚

          晚上七点多，我和乔治、春雨来到大姑家。终于见到了近30年未见的大姑，心中无限感恩——大姑信主已经很多年了。她的信主见证如下：

         “那年正好我退休。当时，我身体和心灵里有一种说不出来的不舒服，心里慌张着急，无论在哪里都坐立不安。有一个姊妹对我说：‘你信主吧。’我就跟她一起在她家里祷告，但祷告不下去。她又劝我跟她一起去教会，我就跟她去了。

    到了教会我做祷告时，好像有一个人把朝廷穿的大袍子给我披上，我烦躁的心情一下子就平静下来。我全好了，整个人像是红色的东西被清水洗过一样，那么清洁、那么干净。从此，我一点也不着急、坐车也不晕车了。

    有一次我坐在工厂的班车上，心里想着可能会晕车，就祷告说：‘主啊，求你医治我，叫我不要晕车了。’神马上就医治我了，我心里也不想呕吐了，也不晕车了，神的恩典一下子就临到我了。

    我心里赞叹说：神真好！这个世界上怎么能有那么好的事呢？于是我把这些事情都传给周围的姐妹听。神借着我带领好些姐妹信了耶稣，她们中有人有工作，有人没有工作。当时你姑父退休了，他出去玩儿，我就把这些姐妹召集在家聚会，厂里信主的人也越来越多。

    到教会以后，我认识了老牧师。老牧师特别关照我，叫我学习圣经。后来我又上了南京神学院的函授班，三年学习，拿了毕业证。

    我年轻时骑自行车摔伤，眼睛缝了三十多针；那次事故还伤到了头，从此头不由自主地一直摇动。我想想这样的病也治不好，我也没跟神说过，但神真是超过人所求所想的。有一天，一位姐妹忽然对我说：‘李姐，你的头怎么不摇了？’我回家照镜子一看，真的好了。现在我的孩子也说：‘妈，你头不摇了。’我这才意识到，原来在不知不觉中，主已经医治了我。神医治人不能医治的病，解决人不能解决的难题，超过人的所求所想。

    我今年85岁，腰不疼、腿不酸。从信主那天直到现在，我一直服侍上帝，为上帝做工。主要我活着，我就服侍主！我最大的愿望就是我的家人也能信主；如果他们不信主，我死不瞑目。”

          信徒一家亲。神的仆人无论走到哪里，见到弟兄姐妹，就如同见到家人一般。那天晚上，大姑急切地召集了五位姐妹和一位弟兄前来交通。我们一直交通到晚上十点多，并逐一为弟兄姐妹按手祷告。祷告结束后，弟兄姐妹才依依不舍地散去。

         期间，我尝试开口向大姑父传福音，但他对福音非常抵触，情绪激动地说：“要信你们信，我不信！”他心中对福音最大的拦阻，是大表哥英年早逝所带来的巨大伤痛。当年大姑初信主，对信仰认识尚浅，加之在一些事情上处理欠妥，使姑父心里的纠结久久不能解开。在他看来，信主应当是“保平安”的，可为什么会经历如此沉重的丧子之痛呢？他无法理解：主从未应许天色常蓝、人生道路花香常漫；主所应许的，是在艰难中赐下力量，在黑暗中赐下亮光，在劳苦中赐下安息。

         夜里躺在床上，辗转难眠，许多往事历历在目。当年，在河南出生的姑姑和父亲姐弟两人去了两个完全不同的方向。姑姑随姑父去了中国的大西北青海，父亲则去了中国的大东北黑龙江。小时候家里穷，大姑常从青海寄来表哥表姐的衣服，给我们姐弟三人穿。尽管天各一方，但两家却常在相近的时间经历不幸。我七八岁、刚开始记事的时候，姑姑在青海骑自行车遭遇车祸；几乎同时，父亲在黑龙江抬木头时被砸伤，从此头痛一直伴随着他。他晚上睡觉时常说：“有邪灵在我头里，我需要信耶稣。”

         同一年，大表哥不幸去世，我哥哥的前三根手指也被雷管炸伤。这一连串发生在家族中的苦难，使我在多年后回望时，愈发清楚地感受到，其中似乎不仅仅是偶然，更隐约显出一种属灵层面的争战。哥哥十七岁回到老家的老宅时，有位算命先生说：“这家风水不好，几代单传。”哥哥回应说：“我家有我和弟弟两个男孩。”算命的却说：“恐怕其中一个保不住。”哥哥随即说：“我家信耶稣了。”那人立刻说：“那我不说了（言外之意是，算命先生觉得一旦人信了耶稣，他算命的技巧对那人也就失灵了）。”的确，耶稣能改变命运。否则，照算命的说法，我在十五岁那年心脏病复发就该离开世界了；然而，基督改变了这一切。因为在亚当里，我们活在魔鬼的权势之下，并受到罪恶的咒诅；但在基督里，借着耶稣和他的十字架，我们便得了释放与自由（弗2:2,13）。

         那一夜，我睡在大姑家中。奇怪的是，就在刚刚入睡的时，我清楚地感到周围仿佛有黑暗势力的笼罩。我跪下来祈祷，求主的宝血洁净这地方，断开一切捆绑与锁链。随着祷告，黑暗退去，平安临到。我整夜安睡，毫无搅扰。（未完待续）                                                                                                                  

A Journey of Seeking Root

(Continued)

That Evening at My Aunt’s Home

          Around seven o’clock in the evening, George, Chunyu, and I arrived at my aunt’s home. At last, after nearly thirty years, I was reunited with my aunt. My heart was filled with deep gratitude—for she has been a believer for many years. The following is her testimony of coming to faith:

        “That year, I had just retired. At the time, there was an indescribable discomfort in both my body and my soul. My heart was anxious and restless; no matter where I was, I could not settle down. A sister said to me, ‘You should believe in the Lord.’ I prayed with her at her home, but I could not pray through. She then encouraged me to go to church with her, and so I went.

When I prayed at the church, it was as if someone placed upon me a long ceremonial robe worn in the imperial court. My agitated heart immediately became calm. I was completely healed—my whole being felt as though something red had been washed clean by clear water, so pure and so spotless. From that time on, I was no longer anxious, nor did I get motion sickness when riding in vehicles.

        Once, while riding on the factory shuttle bus, I thought to myself that I might get motion sickness. I prayed, ‘Lord, please heal me so that I will not feel dizzy.’ God healed me immediately. I no longer felt nauseous or dizzy; God’s grace came upon me all at once.

In my heart I exclaimed, ‘God is so good! How can there be something so wonderful in this world?’ So I shared these experiences with the sisters around me. God used me to lead many sisters to believe in Jesus—some of them had jobs, and some did not. At that time, your uncle had retired and often went out to travel, so I gathered these sisters to meet in our home. More and more people in the factory also came to believe in the Lord.

        After going to church, I came to know an elderly pastor. He took special care of me and encouraged me to study the Bible. Later, I enrolled in the correspondence program at Nanjing Theological Seminary. After three years of study, I received my graduation certificate.

When I was young, I fell off my bicycle and injured myself; my eyes required more than thirty stitches. That accident also injured my head, and from then on my head would shake uncontrollably. I thought that such an illness could not be healed, and I never even asked God about it. But God truly exceeds what people ask or imagine. One day, a sister suddenly said to me, ‘Sister Li, why is your head no longer shaking?’ I went home and looked in the mirror—it really was healed. Now even my children say, ‘Mom, your head doesn’t shake anymore.’ Only then did I realize that, without my even being aware of it, the Lord had already healed me. God heals diseases that people cannot heal and resolves problems that people cannot solve, far beyond what we ask or think.

       I am now eighty-five years old. My waist does not ache, and my legs are not sore. From the day I believed in the Lord until now, I have continually served God and labored for Him. As long as the Lord allows me to live, I will serve Him! My greatest desire is that my family members would also believe in the Lord; if they do not believe, I will not be able to die in peace.”

        Believers are one family. Wherever God’s servants go, when they meet brothers and sisters in Christ, it is as though they are meeting family members. That evening, my aunt eagerly gathered five sisters and one brother to come together for fellowship. We continued fellowshipping until after ten o’clock at night, and we prayed for each brother and sister individually with the laying on of hands. Only after the prayers ended did the brothers and sisters reluctantly depart.

        During this time, I attempted to share the gospel with my uncle, but he was strongly resistant and emotionally agitated. He said, “If you want to believe, then you believe. I won’t!” The greatest stumbling block in his heart toward the gospel was the immense pain caused by the untimely death of my eldest cousin. When my aunt had just come to faith, her understanding of the faith was still shallow, and coupled with some mishandling of certain matters, the knot in my uncle’s heart remained unresolved for a long time. In his view, believing in the Lord should be about “keeping safe and secure,” so why, then, did such overwhelming pain—the loss of a child—occur? He could not understand that the Lord never promised that the skies would always be blue or that life’s path would always be strewn with flowers; rather, the Lord promised to give strength in hardship, light in darkness, and rest in toil.

        That night, as I lay in bed, I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep, with many memories vividly returning to mind. In those earlier years, my aunt and my father—siblings born in Henan—went in two completely different directions. My aunt followed my uncle to Qinghai in northwest China, while my father went to Heilongjiang in northeast China. When we were young and our family was poor, my aunt often sent clothes from Qinghai that my cousins had worn, for the three of us siblings to wear. Though separated by vast distances, the two families experienced misfortunes around the same periods of time. When I was seven or eight years old, just beginning to remember things, my aunt had a bicycle accident in Qinghai; almost at the same time, my father was injured in Heilongjiang when he was struck while carrying logs, and from then on he suffered from chronic headaches. At night, he would often say, “There is an evil spirit in my head; I need to believe in Jesus.”

         That same year, my eldest cousin passed away tragically, and my older brother lost the first three fingers of his hand in an accident involving detonators. This series of sufferings within our family, when I look back years later, makes me increasingly aware that there seemed to be more than mere coincidence—there was also a faint sense of spiritual warfare beneath the surface. When my brother was seventeen and returned to our ancestral home, a fortune-teller said, “This family’s Feng Shui is bad; for generations it has been a single line of descent.” My brother replied, “Our family has two sons—my brother and me.” The fortune-teller then said, “I’m afraid one of them won’t survive.” My brother immediately responded, “Our family believes in Jesus.” At once the man said, “Then I won’t say any more,” implying that once a person believes in Jesus, his fortune-telling skills no longer work on that person. Indeed, Jesus can change one’s destiny. Otherwise, according to the fortune-teller, I should have died when my heart disease relapsed at the age of fifteen. Yet Christ changed all of this. For in Adam, we live under the power of the devil and under the curse of sin; but in Christ, through Jesus and His cross, we have obtained deliverance and freedom (Ephesians 2:2, 13).

        That night, I slept in my aunt’s home. Strangely, just as I was falling asleep, I distinctly sensed that there seemed to be a shroud of dark forces surrounding me. I knelt down to pray, asking the Lord’s precious blood to cleanse the place and to break every bond and chain. As I prayed, the spiritual darkness retreated and peace came. I slept soundly through the night, without any disturbance.                                             (to be continued)

寻根之旅 （接上文）

第二部分：前往河南老家的寻根历程

• 关键主题：寻根、福音、亲情、神恩
  人物：大姑、大姑父、乔治（同行者）、春雨（司机），大表姐、作者本人
   
            人生有三个根本性的哲学问题：我从哪里来？我往哪里去？我为什么活着？
            对信主的人而言，第一个问题的终极答案是清楚的——我们人类并非源于猿猴进化，而是出于始祖亚当，是按着神的形象被造。然而，在这个终极答案之下，我们仍然会不断追问更贴近生命处境的问题：我从哪里来？我的父亲从哪里来？我的爷爷又是从哪里来？
            这些问题并非削弱信仰，反而推动我们去更深地理解自己的身份、血脉与生命的承载。
            苏轼在《题西林壁》中写道：“不识庐山真面目，只缘身在此山中。”
            十八年前，我初到美国，仿佛一只离开笼子的小鸟，以为终于可以在另一片天地自由飞翔。然而，当在美国的奥克拉荷马城市大学修读“中国哲学”课程时，我才猛然发现自己对中国文化却有了一种别样的体会与反思。正是在那时，我忽然意识到：当这只小鸟在西方的天空翱翔时，它的家、它的栖息之所，却始终深深扎根于那片曾经孕育它的土壤——五千年悠久而厚重的中华文化。
            中国早期革命家瞿秋白曾说过一句意味深长的话：“鸟爱自己的翅膀，人爱自己的历史，何必撕破我的历史呢？”
            这句话所表达的，正是人对自身历史与身份的深切珍视。由此反思，我们这些信主的基督徒，又何必刻意切断自己与历史的连接呢？在基督里得着新生命，并不意味着否定或抹去我们的历史；相反，正是在圣灵的真光照耀下，我们才得以重新理解、重新承载并重新解读那段属于我们的历史。
           我出生在中国黑龙江，父亲的老家在河南。小时候上户口，表格里有一栏要填写“原籍”（一般人都写父亲的老家），那一栏上总是写着母亲的老家——山东。
           我常常心生疑问：为什么不填父亲的老家河南呢？
           大人们只是低声回答：“你爸爸小时候成分不好，是富农（在那个年代，被划为“富农”成分，往往意味着在政治上受打压和被歧视），他是从老家逃出来的，尽量不要提”。于是，这个被刻意回避的名字，反倒在我幼小的心灵里留下了更深的印痕。
           说来奇怪，移民海外十八年后，“河南”这个地方对我来说却似乎越来越近。尤其是当三岁的儿子天成一脸认真地追问：“爸爸，你的爸爸在哪里？你的爷爷又在哪里？”
           这些看似天真的问题，一次次把我带回那些被搁置的记忆与尘封的往事。越是被遮掩的历史，越容易引人追问；父亲的出身，仿佛一层朦胧的迷雾，让人忍不住想要掀开它的面纱，去弄明白，为何会如此。
• 到洛阳探亲的计划

         去年，我在小石城事奉已满七年，迎来了一个月的安息年假期。时间虽短，需要拜访许多人，但有一件事对我来说至关重要：必须回河南洛阳看望我的姑姑和姑父。自爸爸1996年去世后，姑姑便成为我们家最亲的长辈。她已经八十四岁，回国一趟不容易，我心中坚定要去看望她和家人。
          重要的是，众弟兄姐妹为我祈祷能有机会与姑父分享福音。姑姑已信主多年，而姑父尚未信主。基督的福音最为宝贵！我们知道，对于一个人来说，死亡并不可怕，真正可怕的是没有基督而离开人世。想到这里，我的心充满期待，也为福音之光能照耀亲人们的心灵而祷告。
         当我与国内的乔治分享前往洛阳的计划时，他非常兴奋，并说：“我表妹正好在洛阳，她可以开车到火车站接我们”。于是，“事就这样成了”。乔治的妹妹，正是前文第一部分提到的春雨姐妹。 
         6月9日下午四点多，当乔治和我乘坐的火车缓缓抵达郑州火车站时，我们聊起了许多老家的往事，那些记忆既揪心又沉重。忽然，一个念头脱口而出：在洛阳看望大姑的同时，是否有可能回商丘的柘城老家，为爷爷奶奶扫墓？乔治听后立刻表示全力支持，并说这件事太重要了，远比单纯看望大姑更有意义。
         从洛阳到商丘柘城的车程大约需要三个半小时，来回就是七个小时。我们在洛阳只有两天，这次行程必须在一天内完成。虽然路途遥远、行程紧凑，他立刻安排春雨妹妹开车接送我们，让这个计划得以落实。如果这次行程既能看望亲人，又能有机会与亲人分享福音，还能完成一次对中华民族孝道的致敬与实践，那岂不是三全其美呢？（未完待续）

A Journey of Seeking Root
2/1/26 Pastor’s Word
 (Continued)

 
Part Two: The Journey of Seeking Root in My Father’s Hometown in Henan
 
Key themes: seeking root, the gospel, family affection, God’s grace
Characters: aunt, aunt’s husband, George (companion), Chunyu (driver), cousin, the writer
 
        There are three fundamental philosophical questions in life: Where do I come from? Where am I going? Why am I alive?
        For those who believe in the Lord, the ultimate answer to the first question is clear—human beings did not evolve from apes, but came from the first ancestor Adam and were created in the image of God. However, beneath this ultimate answer, we still constantly ask questions that are closer to the circumstances of our lives: Where do I come from? Where does my father come from? Where do my grandfather and ancestors come from?
        These questions do not weaken faith; on the contrary, they drive us to understand more deeply our identity, lineage, and the inheritance of life.
        Su Shi, a famous ancient Chinese poet, wrote in Inscription on the Wall of Xilin: “One cannot see the true face of Mount Lu, only because one is in the mountain.”
        Eighteen years ago, when I first arrived in the United States, I felt like a bird leaving its cage, thinking I could finally fly freely in another world. However, when I took a course on “Chinese Philosophy” at the Oklahoma City University, I suddenly realized that I had developed a different understanding and reflection on Chinese culture. It was then that I realized: as this bird soared in the Western sky, its home and its place of rest remained deeply rooted in the soil that had nurtured it—the five-thousand-year-long, profound Chinese civilization.
         An early Chinese revolutionary Qu Qiubai once said a meaningful sentence: “Birds love their wings; people love their history. Why tear apart my history?” This statement expresses the deep value people place on their own history and identity. Reflecting on this, why should we Christians deliberately sever our connection with history? Receiving new life in Christ does not mean denying or erasing our history; rather, it is under the illumination of the Holy Spirit that we can reinterpret, re-bear, and re-understand the history that belongs to us.
        I was born in Heilongjiang, China, and my father’s hometown is in Henan. When I was a child, filling out the household registration form, there was a column for “ancestral home” (most people wrote the father’s hometown). That column, however, always listed my mother’s hometown—Shandong.
       I often wondered: Why not fill in “Henan” (my father’s hometown)?
       Adults would only whisper: “Your father’s social status when he was young was not good; he was a rich peasant (at that time, being labeled as a ‘rich peasant’ often meant political suppression and discrimination), and he had fled from his hometown, so it was better not to mention it.” Thus, this deliberately avoided name left a deeper mark on my young mind.
      Strangely, eighteen years after immigrating overseas, the place “Henan” seemed increasingly close to me. Especially when my three-year-old son, Elijiah, seriously asked, “Daddy, where is your father? Where is your grandfather?”
       These seemingly innocent questions repeatedly brought me back to those memories that had been set aside and dusty past events. The more a history is concealed, the more it prompts inquiry; my father’s origin was like a layer of mist, making me eager to uncover the veil and understand why things were this way.
 
Return Trip Plan
         Last year, I served in Little Rock for seven years and was granted a one-month sabbatical. Although the time was short and many people needed to be visited, one thing was of utmost importance to me: I had to return to Luoyang in Henan to visit my aunt and her husband.  Since my father passed away in 1996, my aunt had become the closest elder in our family. She was already eighty-four years old, and returning to China was not easy. I was determined to see her and her family.
       More importantly, the brothers and sisters were praying that I would have the opportunity to share the gospel with my aunt’s husband. My aunt had believed in the Lord for many years, but her husband had not. The gospel of Christ is most precious! We know that for a person, death itself is not the greatest fear; what is truly frightening is departing this world without Christ.
With this in mind, my heart was full of expectation, and I prayed that the light of the gospel could illuminate my relatives’ hearts.
        When I shared my plan to go to Luoyang with George in China, he was very excited and said, “My cousin happens to be in Luoyang; she can drive to the train station to pick us up.”
And so, “things were settled.” George’s cousin was Sister Chunyu mentioned in Part One.
        Around 4 p.m. on June 9, when George and I arrived at Zhengzhou Train Station, we talked about many memories of our hometown. These memories were both painful and heavy. Suddenly, a thought escaped my lips: “While visiting my aunt in Luoyang, would it be possible to also go back to my ancestral home in Zhecheng, Shangqiu, to pay respects at my grandparents’ graves?” George immediately expressed full support and said that this was extremely important, far more meaningful than just visiting my aunt.
 
        The drive from Luoyang to Zhecheng, Shangqiu, takes approximately three and a half hours, making the round trip seven hours. We only had two days in Luoyang, so this journey had to be completed in one day. Although the route was long and the schedule tight, he immediately arranged for Chunyu to drive us, making this plan feasible. If this trip could allow us both to visit relatives, share the gospel, and fulfill an act of respect and practice of Chinese filial piety, wouldn’t it be the perfect combination of three goals? (To be continued)