Have We No Rights? A frank discussion of the "rights" of missionaries — John Shaqi
Have We No Rights? A frank discussion of the "rights" of missionariesWilliamson, Mabel
Religion
Have We No Rights? A frank discussion of the "rights" of missionaries
Williamson, Mabel
Missionaries; Missions -- China; Pamphlets
I could not believe my eyes. My sister and Mrs. Ning sat down
obediently and began to talk very sympathetically with the old woman
who had just come. What! Were they actually going to stay to dinner?
And not a word to me, just as if what I wanted did not matter at all!
_They_ could talk to this old lady, and tell her about the Lord, but
all _I_ could do was just sit! Of course I was supposed to listen; but
one could not put her brain to listening to this queer Chinese _all_
day long! And what about all those things that I had wanted to get
done?
The dinner was no better than I expected. In fact, it was worse.
Girlie's second great-aunt stayed too, upon urging, and they all
talked on and on. They were trying to teach her a little prayer, and
she was so stupid! Over and over and over, and still she could not say
it by herself.
Finally, when I had given up all hope--I had sat in stony silence all
the afternoon--we got up, made our farewells, and started home. The
sun was setting as we entered our front gate. I was tired (why, I did
not know; I had not done a thing all day), hungry (I had not been able
to eat much of the dinner, no matter how it had been urged upon me),
and disgusted. And the worst of it was that it did not seem to bother
my sister a particle. She took it all as a matter of course. Was this
what I was going to have to go through; what I had come to China for?
For I began slowly to realize that today's experience was not just one
isolated incident; it was likely to happen any day in the year.
Something was wrong somewhere. What?
Suddenly it came over me. It was only that I had had my day all
planned out, and did not want my plans interfered with. Because they
had been interfered with, I had done nothing but sulk. All the things
I might have enjoyed I had not enjoyed at all. I had made myself
miserable for a whole day, just because my time had been disposed of
by someone else, and not by me.
"Dear Lord," I said, "I'm not going to go through this again! I know
it was really You who disposed of my day when I wanted to do something
else with it! Give me an open mind, Lord, so that whenever I go to the
country, whenever I start a new day, I'll be able to accept whatever
comes, and rejoice in it!"
It is amazing how much difference a little thing like one's mental
attitude can make. After that, when I went to the country, I never
took with me any preconceived notions of what time I would return. I
might get back home for my noon meal, or I might get back by sunset,
or I might even stay overnight--what difference did it make? My time
belonged to the Lord, and it was up to Him to dispose of it. I found
that with this attitude of mind I could go anywhere, take advantage of
any opportunities offered, stay more time or less time than I had
expected, and still enjoy every moment, because God had planned it,
and had worked it out in the best possible way.[4]
CHAPTER 7
_The Right to a Normal Romance, If Any_
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account