From J. Hudson Taylor's Notes
My first two missionary journeys made me excited to go on more. I couldn't wait to travel to cities deeper in China and tell the people about God's love and hope. Nothing could make me happier than to see a Chinese soul understand His message and ask Jesus to be their Savior.
On my first journey, as you may recall, I traveled with a fellow missionary from another organization. We barely escaped death. He preached and I gave out New Testaments. You can read that story here I went on my own for my second missionary journey. It was thrilling! My first solo missionary journey.
Two missionaries from other organizations joined me for my third missionary journey, a hike to the south. I liked going by boat for the first two journeys but not every city is connected to the river. We packed our bags and walked southwest of our home in Shanghai ready to tell anyone we met about Jesus.
The people were intrigued with our words, and of course the weird clothes they thought we wore. They all wanted copies of the New Testament. At the end of the day, the three of us climbed a high hill to sing praises to God, read Scripture, and pray. We felt refreshed, ready to start the next day with new energy.
From that hill we saw our beloved city of Shanghai. Smoke billowed high in the sky. The imperialists must have attacked the rebels in the city. Concerned for the people living there we packed our things and hurried back.
Along the road several rebels who had escaped the city ran to us. "Please save us," they cried. I looked at the other two missionaries who had lived in China longer, wondering what we could do.
Alexander and John shook their head and sighed. "There is nothing we can do. We are foreigners and only three men. We can not interfere with the war."
Before another minute past, imperialist soldiers grabbed the rebels and killed them, right in front of us. We ran the rest of the way back to the city to help those who survived the attack.
Walls of buildings lay broken on the ground. Men, women, and children lay dead. My heart ached for the people. We searched the ruins for survivors, bandaged wounds, and spoke words of comfort to their hurting hearts.
After the attack, the city found peace. Not that lives would be restored, but that a rebuilding could start. The other missionaries in the city and I joined together to help the people.
This was the time to start a great ministry. The need could grow no greater.
The mission that sent me still had not sent the requested funds. The Parker family and I didn't even have enough to survive. This was winter time and our rental home had absolutely no heat.
I needed to get help in another way. God please show me what to do. I need funds to do the task you have given me. I felt God's strong leading to ask others for help.
I wrote to my mother who lived in England and poured out my heart. "Oh if there could be a rich acquaintance who could send a thousand pounds to help us build a hospital, school, and other needed buildings. Maybe the ladies could gather together and hold a bazaar to raise the money. Please, Mother, do what you can to help the people of China."
Please pray that someone would send us funds . . . soon.
J. Hudson Taylor
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Photo courtesy of visualbiblealive.com
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. & Mrs. Howard Taylor.