By Mary Vee
Year: September, 1868
Hudson Taylor: age 36
From J. Hudson Taylor's Notes
Photo Courtesy |
George and I had waited two long hours in the Mandarin's home. The official told us to stay there while he attempted to stop the mob from destroying our missionary home.
We prayed for the safety of our families and the other missionaries while we waited, but I must admit, hearing the angry sounds of the mob didn't help to calm my spirit.
The mandarin came into the room as I finished a prayer. "We have stopped the mob and you are safe to return to your home. These guards will escort you."
He order two chairs to carry us. I would have much rather run back to see if everyone was all right. As we were paraded through the streets, locals shouted things like, "All the foreigners in the house are dead."
"Oh, God," I prayed, "Let this not be so."
At the gate of the house the servants set our chairs on the ground. We gave the proper bows before stepping over the broken gate. No one came out to greet us. We didn't' hear a single sound coming from inside. No children talking or baby crying.
I opened the door and walked into the house. Charred pieces and broken furniture littered the room. We hurried through the house calling to the other missionaries, hoping they were hiding in some corner. Thankfully we did not find anyone dead.
We ran upstairs and witnessed every room trashed except one. Only God could have stopped the mob or distracted them from going into the room. This was the place we kept most of the money and important papers. We hurried out. "Where do you think they are?"
George looked around the room where we stood for a moment then said, "They must have gone to the neighbors. The ones who helped us."
"I agree."
We used the same safe way to sneak next door without being seen by others who might be on the streets. The last thing we wanted to do would be to endanger our neighbors.
We gently knocked on their door. "Come in," the husband said. He signaled us to be quiet and led us to and inner room where the others were.
George and I rejoiced to see our family and the others, but were saddened with the injuries. Maria, my wife, injured her leg, Emily had a deep cut and injured her back, William Reid lay on the floor in agony from an injury to his head. We cared for the immediate wounds the best we could with what we had.
The next day the Chinese guards left after their shift and no other replaced them. The mob seemed to have kept watch for this. Once the guards left they came back to the house and continue their destructive mission.
I pulled out a chair, took it to the front yard and cried out, "We have come bringing you the Gospel, which will bless your hearts. You who are destroying this home will face the wrath of God for what you have done."
I stepped down from the chair, walked through the crowd, and straight to the mandarin's home to lodge a complaint.
Please pray that a peaceable end will come to all of this trouble. All we want to do is help these people and tell them about the God who loves them.
J. Hudson Taylor
Missionary to China--Inland China!
Blessed by God even in time of torment
Research resources: J. Hudson Taylor, An Autobiography by J. Hudson Taylor; It is Not Death to Die, a new biography of Hudson Taylor by Jim Cromarty; Hudson Taylor Founder, China Inland Mission by Vance Christie; J. Hudson Taylor, A Man in Christ, by Roger Steer, and Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secret by Dr. &and Mrs. Howard Taylor.
2 comments:
I Can. Not. Imagine enduring that treatment and continuing on! This makes me both appreciative and ashamed -(
Me too, Connie. Life as a missionary is much harder than we realize.
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