I wonder what my day would be like…if I lived in China.
I’d probably get up early and make myself a cup of tea, maybe eat a bowl of rice.
I have a feeling I wouldn’t be tempted to skip my quiet time. Would I have to hide to read my Bible? Would I have to dim the lights and make sure the door was locked?
I wonder how many verses I’d try to memorize…or how many chapters. Would I be content with just 10 minutes with the Lord? What if tomorrow someone found my Bible? What if tomorrow someone found out what I really believed?
Later in the day a friend at work may tell me her problems. Would I be bold enough to share Jesus? The stakes are high. This could be a trap. Would I do it? Would I do it?
There’s a prayer meeting later tonight at church. Would I go? What would I tell my roommate? She’s not a Christian. Would I try to invite her or would I simply tell a lie. Does she suspect where I spend my evenings? Does she know I’m a Christian?
Someone curses the name of Jesus. My ears hurt. My heart tightens. Do I correct them? Do I stand up for the truth?
I go home for lunch. Would I watch a rerun of my favorite TV show, or would I open that book, work on those verses, thank God for another day lived, another moment of freedom?
It’s a party at work. Everyone’s drinking. They want to know why I never do, they want to know why I don’t sleep around, they want to know why I’m always so quiet.
Do I say it? Do I tell them the truth? What if no one else does? What if I don’t?
My heart is pounding but I’m not as afraid as I thought I would be. I’m about to speak up. I’m aware of the costs. My pastor’s been gone for at least a few months. They say he’s in prison but he’s ok, that he’s still alive. He’s still preaching the word, and so full of joy. His family knows that they’ll see him again. Someday. I can almost feel it now. I’m not alone. I’m not as afraid.
I wonder what my day would be like, if I lived in China?
Could this be my last day of freedom?
How will I spend it?
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