In The Beginning
(Pt.5 Resurrection)

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

The earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep; and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.

For those God foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters.

And those He predestined, He also called; those He called, He also justified; those He justified, He also glorified.

It was a bright afternoon, the year unknown.

My new canine tooth had grown outside the dental arch, so that day I went to the city hospital’s dental department to see my uncle—he was a dentist.

On the way home, I passed by that tiny Catholic church.

It had been built by missionaries during the Republican era. It had long been occupied by the government, locked behind a tall iron fence, surrounded by weeds, left untouched.

But that day, the gate wasn’t locked.

I had always been curious about that little church. Seeing the opportunity, I excitedly opened the gate and stepped inside. I approached the church and gently pushed open the nearly rotten wooden door.

Sunlight pierced through the narrow entrance, and the dust hiding behind the door danced in the air before my eyes for the first time.

I walked in and looked around. It was about the size of a classroom, but much narrower. There weren’t many furnishings—just a simple pulpit, and two statues, one male and one female, standing on either side.

Behind the pulpit, at the center, was a sculpture of a man in white robes, with long hair—one hand pointing toward heaven, the other cradling a heart on fire on His chest.

Beneath the pulpit were rows of wooden benches, unlike anything I had ever seen.

On the surrounding walls, small oil paintings caught my attention.

I craned my neck and looked up at them closely, but didn’t know where to start. After walking around once, I realized it was a sequential story.

Because the man with long hair ended up nailed to a wooden cross.

I half-understood, but couldn’t quite make sense of it. Still, I didn’t want to leave, so I sat down on a nearby bench, staring blankly at the sculpture of the man with long hair.

Back then, I didn’t know that the wooden step in the front row was meant for kneeling—not for resting my feet.

Later, I somehow learned his full story.

In that small inland Chinese city, where everyone prayed to Buddha and their ancestors for fortune, I—just barely over ten—began writing in my diary about truth and my longing for it.

I hadn’t yet read the Bible, but I wrote, “If I could be crucified like Jesus to save all of humanity, that would be totally worth it.”

It turns out, even then, I had already recognized—
The essence of glory is self-giving.

And even in my childhood inferiority—thinking I was merely one of seven billion—I had already placed myself into God’s grand narrative.

So it turns out, from the very beginning, I had recognized You.

“For those God foreknew, He also predestined to be conformed to the image of His Son.”

The one You foreknew—turns out, it really was me…

I wiped my tears and pushed open the narrow door, walking out of that little church in my memory. Ahead lay domestic abuse, school bullying, the glittering emptiness of adult life, heartbreak, complex PTSD… China, Barcelona, the church and fellowship I left.

And all the unknown sufferings yet to come.

Yet the sunlight streamed through the narrow gate, and the dust dancing in the air saw its own appearance for the first time.

My phone vibrated. A brother had messaged me.
He quoted what the Lord once said to Gideon in the book of Judges:

“See you, mighty warrior. Lord is with you!”