Her Name was Julia

Four years ago I met Julia. I saw her come into the coffee shop one day and take a seat alone by the window. I felt led to approach her and invite her to join my little group for conversation, which she did. For the next four months I saw her nearly every day and during that time God used me to help her through an extremely difficult time in her life. During the next year she met and fell in love with Eric, who was from America and was teaching English here in Wuhan. Julia soon graduated and took a job in another city. Eric changed jobs to follow her and after an appropriate amount of time they were engaged and then married.

Because of the amount of conversation and counseling time we had, we became very close friends and established a grandfather to granddaughter relationship. In China these are more than just titles; they are terms that relate to behavior and respect. They are terms that define family and the kind of behavior expected between family members; it places boundaries on your behavior. It gives the older one a place of honor and allows the younger to show respect. To this day, whenever she calls me grandpa, it deeply warms my heart. She never calls me anything else because to her I am her grandpa.

Today as I write this it is Sunday, October 17, 2010. I went to church, as I normally do Sunday mornings, and as I prayed at the start of the morning service, I asked Father to show me his hand today and do something special. In just a few minutes someone slipped up behind me and touched me and quietly said, “Grandpa.” I had not seen or spoken to her for two years, but I immediately knew who it was by the way she said, “Grandpa.” It was Julia with her son. I slid over and they slipped in.

She had taken the overnight train and traveled for twelve hours to get here. She figured I would be in Wuhan and she hoped I would be in church. As she undid her body, baby carrier, her first words were to her son. She said, “This is your great grandpa.” After church we talked about that and she told me I was family and always would be. It is clear that I do have a growing Chinese family that is as real to me as my own family in America. Once you are finally accepted as a member you are treated as, and you feel like, a true family member. This is part of what compels me to continue to return to China; to return to visit with that part of my family that lives here.

After church I got a picture of them and she insisted a picture be taken of the three of us that I could send to her as a family picture.

Father answered my prayer real quick and in a way I never expected.

PS – I am learning to call her Lingling; her Chinese name.