April 23, 2013
It's been 20 years since He said, "I want you to be My court painter, painting for the King, and I will provide for your every need." It's been 7 years since I had the fight with cancer and Out of the Wilderness was written. I am a senior now. I am aware of time against me; aware time is running out for me. Yet I live like I am going to live forever - forever teaching art, forever writing and painting for the Lord, forever having Peter by my side, forever having Valerie, Andrew and Noah living close by, forever going deeper and deeper into the vat of God's love, forever being set free from fear, forever learning to love others as I love myself. I live like I am a young, wild horse running alongside other young wild horses, going for broke for the Lord.
One day blurs into another day. I don't remember birthdays or special days like Mother's Day or my anniversary. But I am aware of the seasons for God's people, and what He is about with us all and where we are all going with Him. Our flesh grows older and weaker, but our spirit is being trained and forged into muscled warriors, some at a slower rate, like me, than others. I look around me and I see many well-built warriors, some are busily sharpening their swords, others are steely-eyed with a determined stance, ready to head out on yet another assignment. I look down at myself, and it seems I am a childlike creature, wearing a transparent gown, holding a pen in one hand and a brush tucked behind my ear, and I don't leave the Garden much. I can often be found sitting on the lap of Jesus, listening to Him talk about things...
Today, He is talking about lineage. I was reading Romans 8, 9, 10. Paul was writing about the Jews that theirs is the adoption of sons; theirs the divine glory, the covenants, the promises, and yet so many Jews rejected Christ. God had stated in Exodus 33:10 that "I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion." This is not a chapter that I would often read; yet the words are coming to life for me. "What if God, choosing to show his wrath and make his power known, bore with great patience the objects of his wrath-prepared for destruction? What if he did this to make the riches of his glory known to the objects of his mercy, whom he prepared in advance for glory-even us, whom he also called, not only from the Jews but also from the Gentiles? As he says in Hosea:
I will call them 'my people,' who are not my people; and I will call her 'my loved one' who is not my loved one," and, "It will happen that in the very place where it was said to them, 'You are not my people,' they will be called 'sons of the living God.'"
Suddenly I am deeply aware that God has chosen and called from among the people of the world, and among numerous Chinese, as numerous as the sand of the sea - my father and his grandparents from Taiwan, my mother and her grandparents of Fookien province in China, and my husband Peter and his parents and grandparents from Shanghai, and my son-in-law Andrew and his parents from South Africa - to be a people who would be the recipient of the riches of His glory and of His mercy.
What is the chance of my mother's grandfather playing by the river in Fookien, tricked by pirates to get on their boat, and kidnapped and sold to a Chinese family living in Amoy who just happened to be Christians? It was one in a million chance that there was a Chinese Christian family in that region at that time. This boy grew up to be the first pastor of a church in that region, a church that my sister and cousins went to worship at a few years ago when they visited China. What is the chance that my father's grandfather, a prosperous Buddha maker in Taiwan, should be tormented by a demon every night and driven half crazy from lack of sleep and forced to seek a Christian church to get away from the demon, thus becoming the first Christian in his bloodline? This bloodline has led to a grandson named George Chua, my father, through whom God has established Chinese churches in the Philippines and California which in turn are birthing many churches in many parts of the world. What is the chance of me marrying Peter whose grandfather was a humble country pastor in China and his mother was a Christian radio personality and Valerie marrying Andrew who came from South Africa and his parents were at one time part of a Catholic ministry that took care of the poorest of the poor in South Africa?
When Jesus showed me this, I was overwhelmed with gratitude and thanksgiving that He has chosen us to be "His people" who are not His people, called "His loved one" when we were not His loved ones, objects of His mercy and not His wrath. How I treasure our lineage! I love those people who are chosen and called, anointed to be vessels of honor, and not vessels of His wrath. We are blessed beyond words. We depend on God and God alone. We choose to declare that "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." We are blessed to proclaim, "Where does my help come from, my help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth."
