MISSIONS FEATURE
MY VANISHING HALO
by Dr. Dick Hillis Director of Overseas Crusades, Inc.
Out of China comes a revealing confession of Biola graduate’s struggles.
» w h e n I w a s YOUNG, strong and just twenty, I * * had a halo! Perhaps you would not have noticed it, but I could feel it glowing and growing every time I spoke at a women’s missionary meet ing. “ Isn’t he wonderful to give up such a promising career at home to go to China ?” at least one woman would exclaim. Or, “ I can’t remember when I have seen such a committed man — so young and making so many sacrifices for the Gospel’s sake.” Or, “My son is preaching in a little church in Southern California. How I wish he were dedi cated enough to go to China like this dear boy!” By the time I boarded the good ship, “Empress of Canada,” bound for China, both my halo and my head had been expanded by shaft after shaft of lighted glory. But I was soon to learn that, as the fiery heat of the sun bums away the halo around the moon, so the fiery trials of foreign service melt the halo around a missionary’s head. As soon as I lost sight o f my native land, I became disturbed by a sense of loneliness. This was no eight-day excursion. This trip was the begin ning of an eight-year separation from my loved ones, and I might die in China — or they might die while I was gone. Now I was really alone. During the voyage, my loneliness increased. Here I was traveling third class on a rolling ship plowing slowly toward China. The food was not good and, anyway, I was too seasick to eat. Most of the third-class passengers were Chinese so I could not converse with them. I grew sorry for myself. My halo tilted. But I did not give up with the first heat of battle; I fought back! Loneliness might defeat a SEPTEMBER, 1967
soldier with less stamina, but not me! Jesus prom ised, “All power is given unto Me . . . and lo, I am with you alway” (Matt. 28:18, 20). I claimed the promise, chalked up a victory, and readjusted my halo. The voyage was a long one but at last we reached Shanghai. With a thrill I drank in the novelty of the sights and sounds o f my adopted land for the first time. I found no time to be lonely, for my first days in China were filled with official appointments, meetings, and repacking for my trip upriver to the language school. In two weeks I was on the move again on a little river boat pushing slowly upstream on the Yangtze . . . a river both loved and hated: loved because its waters bring life to fields scorched by a tropical sun; hated because too often it breaks its muddy dikes and brings flood, disaster, and death to harvest and harvester alike. Who could be lonely with all the promise of adventure and discovery in this turbulent land? Adventure it was. While our river boat balanced the speed of her propeller with the force o f the river’s current, we jumped into a flimsy “ sanpan” and two sleepy coolies poled us to the north bank. At language school in the old city of Anking I found that here, too, there was no time for loneli ness. The days were busy from five in the morning until eleven at night with classes on mission orien tation, Chinese culture, and the new language . . . and each class demanded hours of homework. Be sides, I was in the company o f forty other mis sionaries, each as determined as I to conquer the difficult sounds and shapes of the strange Chinese characters. At last the six months of language school were is
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