The other day on my way to work, I passed a group of my elderly neighbors coming back from the morning market. They were so busy giggling that they didn’t notice me. With a big smile on my face, I continued to my office while considering how people’s demeanor affects those around them.

On one hand, I wondered if my huge smile started by the gaggle of gigglers was affecting anyone else. On the other hand, I recalled a time when my demeanor had the opposite effect. While weaving my way through the grocery store aisles, I was mulling over a conflict with a friend. My frustration was clearly visible on my face. Not realizing I could understand their Chinese, one clerk commented to another, “她的心情不好,”¹ the equivalent of, “She must be having a bad day.”

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For many years, I wore a cross necklace almost daily, and people here noticed. When I told them it was a gift from my mom, they understood. Many of them wore a similar gift hanging from a red string around their neck—a replica of the animal representing the year they were born on the Chinese zodiac. Occasionally, I would explain further that my necklace was a reminder to me to act like my Master. If I’m walking around with a symbol of His sacrifice around my neck, then I’d better engage in self-sacrifice myself (unlike in the grocery store).

In increasingly limited circumstances here, my mom’s gift brought comfort. Freely sharing a reason for my hope had become more and more difficult, particularly in public spaces. The thought, however, of that cross hanging around my neck reassured me. With help from above, I hoped that observers could put two and two together and come to some meaningful conclusions.

I no longer feel comfortable wearing my cross necklace.

Chinese people have always paid attention to the United States, and they’re watching now. They hear the president claim to be a Christian and see his administration taking action in Jesus’ name, and they want nothing to do with what they view as evil. Perhaps my friends haven’t noticed the prominent crosses hanging around the necks of some Trump supporters, but just in case, I’ve stopped wearing mine.

The other day, I sent a message to a friend. She’d shared some challenges her son is facing. I wrote to tell her I was praying for him. Her lukewarm response could have been related to the confining climate or personal feelings. Or, perhaps she’s read about worship services in the Oval Office or at the Pentagon, and she wants nothing to do with prayer.

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Communicating hope across language and cultural barriers has always been challenging. In recent years, forces here have raised other barriers. Now, some of my usual ways of seasoning with salt—including speaking the Name as a reason for my hope—have been hijacked by my own government. What’s left?

The gaggle of gigglers gives me an answer. My demeanor. Words spoken in peace, acts of compassion and kindness, offerings of respect, neighborliness, infectious smiles, and bouts of giggling can glow with Eternal Light.

Lead me, Victorious One, down streets,
through grocery store aisles, 
into classrooms, offices, restaurants, and parks. 
Through me, spread Your aroma everywhere.
Awaken yearning in the hearts of observers 
so that they breathe deeply 
the fragrance of Life.

1. Ta de xin qing bu hao. ↩︎