July 17, 2009

Friends,

I've heard the saying “God promises us a safe landing, not a smooth passage." That saying has come back to me in the previous two weeks, with the recent riots and subsequent clampdown in Xinjiang.

I had planned to travel to Xinjiang this summer, to witness firsthand the Islamic culture of its native people, the Uyghurs. I was looking forward to eating Xinjiang grapes and laghman gush siz, a vegetarian noodle dish. I wished to explore the old quarters of Kashgar, to view the Karakorum Highway, to visit some mosques, and to possibly stay overnight in a yurt, or join a camel trek. Those plans have changed with the crackdown.

My heart hurts for the families of those who have been killed in the violence, and I have cried to see prejudice and ethnic hatred rear their ugly heads and to see a rift grow between two cultures that I have come to deeply respect. I know that God must also sit and mourn with those victims, both the Han Chinese and the Uyghur, who cry out for an end to the suffering in their midst and beg for healing.

My city, Zhangye, is only an eight-hour train ride from Urumqi, the capitol of Xinjiang and site of the worst riots. When I was researching my trip, I discovered that Urumqi is also the city on earth that is farthest from any sea. This fact drew my attention to Psalm 63, which begins:

O God, You are my God;
Early will I seek You;
My soul thirsts for You;
My flesh longs for You
In a dry and thristy land
Where there is no water.

Like the psalmist, I also rise early to read the news after my morning run, and lately this news has caused me to long for God’s peace in this desert land I now call my home. I have known Uyghurs, both here and in Lanzhou, who spoke of their homeland and culture with pride. Several Uyghurs that I have met over the years have been sellers of Xinjiang fruitcake, and every one of those vendors seemed to hail from Kashgar. Their insistence that I “simply must” visit their hometown filled me with anticipation. I have known Han Chinese with family members and colleagues living in Xinjiang as well. Both groups have been victims of the recent riots, and both sides fervently wish for peace and safety for their families now.

I have not been a victim of the riot violence, but I have felt its effect here in Zhangye—and not only through the cancellation of my trip. The very people I wish to talk to about this issue are not often able to communicate with me, since many of the Web sites I once used to communicate with are behind the Chinese government’s firewall. Twitter and Fanfou, the Chinese equivalent to Twitter, have been shut down. MySpace, Bebo, YouTube, and Facebook are all blocked as well, and none of the proxies I have been able to use in the past have been effective in circumventing the firewall. As many of my friends from the United States and other countries use Facebook to stay in contact with me, reassuring their fears has taken quite a bit more effort than in the past.

In the midst of this uncertainty and fear, I have drawn hope from a song by Nichole Nordeman called “Gratitude.”  Some of the lyrics which I have listened to over and over again, are reprinted below.

Send some rain, would You send some rain?
'Cause the earth is dry and needs to drink again
And the sun is high and we are sinking in the shade
Would You send a cloud, thunder long and loud?
Let the sky grow black and send some mercy down
Surely You can see that we are thirsty and afraid
But maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case ...

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude
For lessons learned in how to thirst for You
How to bless the very sun that warms our face
If You never send us rain
So grant us peace, Jesus, grant us peace
Move our hearts to hear a single beat
Between alibis and enemies tonight
Or maybe not, not today
Peace might be another world away
And if that's the case ...

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude
For lessons learned in how to trust in You
That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream
In abundance or in need
And if You never grant us peace ...

But, Jesus, would You please ..."

Yes, Lord Jesus, please grant all of us Your peace and a safe landing in Your arms at the end of this painful passage. 

Prayerfully,

Rae

The 2009 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 117