Last night we barely got to town in Chingjing at 8pm. I started getting the shakes because the inn was so cold. Then in the middle of the night I broke out in sweats and thought I would get sick on just our second day. I had to change twice because my clothes were soaked through.
Well this morning I woke up I felt fine. Praise God! We took a look out the window at the gorgeous view we didn't have a chance to see the night before. It was a precursor to all the wonderful things we'd experience today.
We decided that because of my knee I shouldn't risk injuring it more on another ascent so I would hire a driver to meet dad at the next destination, HeHuan Mountain. He would take the mountain bike I had been riding and I'd transport his road bike up to the next hotel. Turned out to be a God thing. More on that in a sec.
But before dad and I would split up for the day, we wanted to visit the ChingJing Farm together, famous for its mountain-top sheep grazing areas.
So at first, nothing special happened, we fed some sheep, took pictures. Dad was getting ready to leave when we walked up to a gazebo to take a few final pictures. We asked a nearby man, who was resting in the gazebo with his family, to take our picture.
Dad chatted with the guy as is his usual custom while I sat quietly on the side listening. After a few minutes, dad said his goodbye and got up to leave but turned to ask to take one final picture with the family (I found out later that he was prompted by the Holy Spirit). Not much out of the ordinary but here comes the cool part.
After dad left, the man and his family started talking to me. At first I got really scared because my mandarin is quite terrible, but then I started to understand more or less what they were saying. They asked about the usual stuff, age, work, marital status and how long I was staying for. I mentioned that my wife and I would be coming to Taiwan again in August for a half-year stay.
"Where will you be staying?" they asked.
"Puli... er... I think it's Puli or Puxi. I don't know how to say it." I replied.
"Puxi?! By Chiayi? That's where she works," the man said pointing at his wife.
"Yes... yes, I remember it's near Chiayi. All I know is that it's a small place. It's got around 35,000 people," I said.
"So what will you be doing there for half a year?" they inquired.
At this point I started stammering because I couldn't think of the word for mission work and I didn't want them to think I was coming to Taiwan to prostlyze so I told them we were taking a break from work to visit and reflect on life. I told them that all I knew was that we were going to hosted by a family by the name of Chen.
"Chen? Is your Chen a Mu Si (a pastor)?" they asked.
At this, my eyes widened at I got goosebumps. "Yes! Yes! He's a Mu Si and he has a teenage daughter and they're from Australia."
It turns out the wife works RIGHT beside where our host missionary family stay and they know each other. The family I had been chatting with for 20 minutes now were Chrisitans and live in Chiayi, a neighbouring city to where we will stay in August. It is so crazy that of all the days I had to take a break from biking and laze around a farm, it would be today, and of all the places on the farm to stop, we stopped at this gazebo, and of all the people I would have the courage to converse with it would be this family. Through them I am affirmed that God really does want Michelle and me to come to Taiwan. How else can you explain such coincidence?
The family invited me to lunch on the farm with them and I hung out with them for a while before they dropped me off at the inn in time for my taxi ride. Still marvelling at this, I frantically tried to type down all that happened on the taxi ride to the next stop.
Dad had mentioned before to be on the lookout for him so on the ride up the mountains I was occasionally glancing out the window while still typing when we passed by a cyclist. At first I didn't think it was dad because the cyclist was wearing this ugly polka-dotted shirt. But upon closer inspection it was dad. Happy to see him, I jumped out to greet him.
Dad had ridden for 4 hours uphill for 11km. Man, I was so proud of him.
The driver suggested that we meet day again a few kms up the mountain where there would be a much nicer view. But for now she would drive me to the inn first to get check in. The next time we saw dad, he was at this checkpoint:
I asked dad how the ride was and he said that it was difficult. He said that on the ride up he kept thinking about yesterday's ride and how we should have split it into two days instead of attempting it all at once. But it was all a part of God's will that I got injured because that freed up the mountain bike that I was riding so he could use it to climb today. If I hadn't gotten hurt, neither of us would have been able to ride up the mountain today. It's so amazing to see God work in such divine ways.
I'm reminded of the familiar passage in Romans 8 when Paul talks about our trials. And though an IT band injury is certainly not a trial of faith that would test one's spiritual outlook, his words still ring true.
"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28 ESV)"
I can't help but sense that God is piecing together all things- good or seemingly bad- to work together this life He's called us to. Hope this encourages you in your own spiritual walk. God IS at work in your life. You may not see it this day, but one day He will bring it together for good.
Blessings.
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