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Visiting a Minority Village
February 28, 2006

The six old men looked like they were straight out of a National Geographic spread.  Smiling at us from their roadside perch, their comfortable posture suggested that smoking their pipes by the road was a daily appointment. One man had such thick glasses that I wondered how he could see through them at all. Another stood up to greet us with a smile and word of greeting in a thickly-accented local dialect.

Kris* took advantage of his welcoming greeting to ask about his village. “Can we take a look around?” he asked. The man with the thick glasses happily nodded his head and his friend moved aside so we could pass.

We were in a Chinese minority village, and my visit was one I had long anticipated. For years, I have heard about people who trek out to villages of unreached people groups to share the gospel, so I jumped at the opportunity to shadow two members of the N team as they visited a village near their home.

Before we walked down into this village, which was nestled in a small valley, we paused to pray. We asked God to give us a chance to share about him, and we expectantly asked for a person of peace who would listen and open doors for the team to share. The N team uses the Luke 10  principle when they enter new territory, seeking out “persons of peace” who will welcome them along the way and will give them opportunities to share the gospel.

Snaking our way through narrow streets, we encountered several people, and like the men at the village entrance, they did not seem surprised to see us here. I sensed that my tall, white frame looked strangely odd against the old rural Chinese landscape, but they didn’t seem to notice.

Still hoping to find a person of peace, we entered a storefront that advertised bottled drinks and snacks. Behind the tiny store was a traditional three-sided house that framed in a small courtyard. Every inch of the enclosed courtyard was covered in corn, laid out to dry in the sun.

The teenage girl manning the counter opened her eyes wide and graciously invited us in. “Please sit! Please sit!” she said, clearing off the couches in the room. Maybe our prayer for a person of peace was answered already.

As we snacked on their offering of tea and peanuts, the girl’s 78-year old grandmother came in with a basket of corn, preparing to separate the kernels from the cob. (It is typical for three or more generations to live together under one roof.) Before long, Kris and his teammate were deep in conversation with the old lady, corn husks in hand. Their methods of corn removal were slow at first, but the shared laughter broke the ice among an ever-increasing crowd.

Turning toward the teenage girl, Kris asked, “What is the biggest change you have seen in your lifetime?”

“Life is not nearly as hard as it used to be,” she said without hesitation. She has undoubtedly heard numerous stories from her grandmother about how life was before modern conveniences began encroaching on their rural farm life. Even in her lifetime, life has been radically altered by the influences of a nearby tourist-focused city.

The conversation drifted from topic to topic, until Kris mentioned how grateful he was that God had created such a beautiful place for them to live. Our new friend cocked her head to the side and opened the door for Kris to continue.

The girl started to ask questions about God. She said she had seen others pray. She knew that she should bow her head and end with “amen”, but didn’t know why or to whom she should pray. So, Kris shared the story of creation to the cross in about 5 minutes. She listened with rapt attention, but I don’t know if she really understood its impact in her life…yet.

By this point, word of the foreigners was spreading rapidly through this little village, and the doorway was crowded with curious faces. Not wanting to outstay our welcome, we stood to leave. The father called out to Kris, calling him an “old friend” and asking him to please come back soon. Kris promised he would.

After praying for their family, we headed back out of the village. We said goodbye to the man with the thick glasses, who was still smoking his pipe beside the road, and we turned toward home. On our way, we thanked God for bringing us a person of peace.

I hope our new friend will think about the story she heard today. Maybe she will be the one to believe and share Jesus with her whole village…just maybe.

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