Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secrets

She would keep up the regular weekly prayer meeting and provide a center there in London for returning missionaries. She would attend to daily business and correspondence while passing along any letters the Council needed to handle. The Council would be responsible for interviewing candidates, dispensing funds, and keeping friends of the mission appraised of its work through the continuing publication of the occasional paper. Though confident that business at home was again in good hands, as they left once more for China, funds were still low. The mission's bank account was a paltry twenty-one pounds when the tailors set sail, but there was no debt, and Hudson was able to write and a letter to friends of the mission. Now that the work has grown, more helpers are needed at home, as abroad, but the principles of action remain the same. We shall seek pecuniary aid from God by prayer as heretofore. He will put it into the hearts of those He sees fit to use to act as His channels. When there is money in hand, it will be remitted to China. When there is none, none will be sent, and we shall not draw upon home, so that there can be no going into debt. Should our faith be tried as it has been before, the Lord will prove Himself faithful as He has ever done. Nay, should our faith fail, His faithfulness will not, for it is written, If we believe not, yet He abideth faithful. Never had Hudson needed that confidence more than when, after an absence of fifteen months, he once again reached China. Sickness and other problems had discouraged missionaries in several of the older, more established centers. Hudson's old friend, George Duncan, had left Nanking due to illness and was even then on his way back to England to die. Even the little Chinese churches had dwindled, many stations were undermanned, some had been closed. So much help and encouragement was needed that Hudson hardly knew where to begin. Instead of planning for an advance to unreached provinces, it looked like a major task just to build up the existing work to its previous level. In wintry weather, the snow deep on the ground, Hudson left his wife to attend to the work in Hangzhou, and set off up the Grand Canal to Qingyang. It must have seemed especially lonely to open up the empty mission house that had been such a happy home to his family. From there he wrote his wife to say, I have invited the church members and inquirers to dine with me tomorrow, Sunday. I want them all to meet together. May the Lord give us His blessing. Though things are sadly discouraging, they are not hopeless. They will soon look up, by God's blessing, if they are looked after. That was his attitude everywhere he went. Finally he was joined by his wife and Nanking where together they spent three months working in direct evangelism. From there he reported back home. Every night we gathered a large number by means of pictures and lantern slides and preached to them Jesus. We had fully five hundred in the chapel last night. Some did not stay long, others were there nearly three hours. May the Lord bless our stay here to souls. Every afternoon women come to see and to hear. Evidence of his great inner strength was seen in a letter he wrote to Emily Blatchley in which he asked, If you are ever drinking at the fountain, with what will your life be running over? Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. It was a full cup of faith that Hudson Taylor carried, and the overflow of that spirit proved to be just what was needed by the mission in China. His visits accomplished their objective of encouragement and were continued until he had been at least once to every station and almost every outstation in the mission. And his concern was not just for his fellow missionaries. Everywhere he went he sought out the Chinese Christians to help and encourage them as well. When they could be together his wife's assistance was invaluable. They would work at times far into the night attending to correspondence. On medical journeys she was often his companion, or she might remain at one station where there was sickness while he went on to another. Repeatedly they felt grateful for his medical knowledge, for there was no other doctor in the mission or anywhere away from the treaty ports in those years. Of course his medical expertise often added to his burden of work. For example, Hudson once reached a distance station to find ninety-eight letters awaiting him. Yet the very next day he took time to write a full page of medical instructions about A-Ling's baby. Now A-Ling was one of the valued Chinese helpers at Chin Yang. But whether it meant longer letters or extra journeys, Hudson thanked God for any and every way in which he could help. Because it was, as he said and showed many times, his greatest desire to be servant of all. After being back in China about nine months, Hudson wrote, The Lord is prospering us and the work is steadily growing, especially in that most important department, native help. The helpers themselves need much help, much care and instruction, but they are becoming more efficient as well as more numerous, and the hope of China lies doubtless in them. I look on foreign missionaries as the scaffolding round a rising building. The sooner it can be dispensed with, the better. Or the sooner, rather, that it can be transferred to serve the same temporary purpose elsewhere. Winter came again. Yet the season seldom changed the number of demands on Hudson's time. In the coldest of weather, he continued on the road. After ten out of twelve weeks spent away from his wife, the two of them finally managed to meet at an empty mission house at Feng Hua, where they enjoyed being together alone, truly alone, for the first time since they had been married. Their little honeymoon soon ended with a call for help. It came from the Crombies whose only remaining children were on the verge of death. So Hudson set off on a two-day journey over mountain passes drifted high with snow. By the time he could return from there, another message arrived from an even more distant station saying an entire family had come down with the smallpox. Waiting only until his coolie arrived with his belongings, Hudson had raced ahead to rejoin his wife. He set out again across the mountains on treacherously icy trails that were sometimes nothing more than steps carved out of rock. In the stress and strain of just keeping the mission going, it would have been easy to forget about his dream of expanding the ministry, especially when funds for the current work were none too plentiful. But Hudson couldn't forget. Traveling from place to place on long journeys between the stations, through populous county, teeming with friendly, accessible people, his heart went out more and more to the unreached, both near and far. He wrote to the council in London, Last week I was in Taiping. My heart was greatly moved by the crowds that literally filled the streets for two or three miles so that we could hardly walk, for it was market day. We did but little preaching, for we were looking for a place for permanent work. But I was constrained to retire to the city wall and cry to God to have mercy on the people, to open their hearts and give us an entrance among them. Without any seeking on our part, we were brought into touch with at least four anxious souls. An old man found us out, I know not how, and followed me to our boat. I asked him in and inquired his name. My name is Zing, he replied, but the question which distresses me and to which I can find no answer is, what am I to do with my sins? Our scholars tell us that there is no future state, but I find it hard to believe them. Oh sir, I lie on my bed and think, I sit alone in the daytime and think, I think and think and think again, but I cannot tell what is to be done about my sins. I am seventy-two years of age. I cannot expect to finish another decade. Today knows not tomorrow's lot, as the saying is. Can you tell me what to do with my sins? I can indeed, was my reply. It is to answer this very question that we have come so many thousands of miles. Listen, and I will explain to you what you want and need to know. When my companions returned, he heard again the wonderful story of the cross and left us soothed and comforted, glad to know that we had rented a house and hoped soon to have Chinese Christians distributing Bibles and Christian literature in that city. Something that he put into his Bible that I think we'll find most interesting. It says, Ask God for fifty or a hundred additional native evangelists and as many missionaries as may be needed to open up the four fews and forty-eight cities still unoccupied in Qijiang. Also for men to break into the nine occupied provinces. Ask in the name of Jesus. And then here is one of his prayers. I thank thee, Lord Jesus, for the promise whereon thou hast given me to rest. Give me all needed strength of body, wisdom of mind, grace of soul to do this by so great work. What followed that prayer wasn't renewed strength, but another bout of serious illness. Week after week he lay in bed suffering helplessly with hardly more than enough energy to pray. Funds had been so low for months that he hardly knew how to distribute the little that came in. There certainly was nothing with which to begin expanding the work. Still, we are going on to the interior, he had written to the secretaries in London. I do so hope to see some of the destitute provinces evangelized before long. I long for it by day and pray for it by night. Can he care less? Never had advance seemed more impossible. But in his Bible was the record of his prayer and in his heart was the conviction that even for inland China, God's time had almost come. It was then while he was still in bed recovering that he received a letter from England written two months before by a woman he had never met. Her trembling hand had written, My dear sir, I bless God, in two months I hope to place at the disposal of your council for further extension of the China inland missionary work, 800 pounds. Please remember, for fresh provinces. I think your receipt form beautiful. The Lord our banner, the Lord will provide. If faith is put before and praise sent up, I am sure that Jehovah of hosts will honor it. 800 pounds for fresh provinces? Even before he recorded his prayer in his Bible? The letter had been sent and God had been answering his request. Surely, he thought, the time for advancing the work had come. But Hudson couldn't see the dark days that still lay ahead. 1872 to 1876. Hudson was so encouraged by the answer to his prayer that he soon recovered enough to travel back to the Yangtze Valley to find spring weather and a warm new enthusiasm spreading throughout the mission. In Xinjiang, as in almost all the stations, Chinese Christians seemed to be growing rapidly in their faith. New converts came to the churches and Chinese leaders were encouraging and instructing their own people. Calling as many missionaries as could leave their stations, Hudson convened a special conference in Xinjiang. All those who came found inspiration in the good reports of their colleagues' progress. And the group joined together in prayer with Hudson before he and Mr. Judd set out up the Great River in search of a new base city from which he could move on into the westernmost provinces of China. Before he left, Hudson wrote, Is it not good of the Lord to encourage us when we are sorely tried from want of funds? It certainly wasn't an abundance of supplies that accounted for the heightened enthusiasm within the mission. And it wasn't because everything now seemed to be going Hudson's way either. While in Xinjiang, Hudson had received the surprising and disturbing news that Emily Blatchley had fallen seriously ill back in London. Not only was he saddened to learn that the prospects of her recovery were very slim, but he wondered what was to become of the children to whom she had been serving as volunteer mother. And then there was the work of the home office, more and more of which had fallen upon her in his absence. She not only operated the mission house, she took over the editing and distribution of the occasional paper, dealt with much correspondence herself, and conducted the regular prayer meeting on behalf of the mission. Hudson confided in a letter to a Christian friend before he left on his longest journey yet of the Yanks saying, Never has our work entailed such real trial or so much exercise of faith. The sickness of our beloved friend Miss Blatchley and her strong desire to see me, the needs of our dear children, the state of funds, the changes required in the work to admit of some going home, others coming out, and a further expansion, and many other things not easily expressed in writing, would be crushing burdens if we were to bear them. But the Lord bears us, and them too, and makes our hearts so very glad in himself, not himself plus a blank check, just himself, and that I have never known greater freedom from care and anxiety. The other week when I reached Shanghai we were in great and immediate need. The males were both in, but no remittance, and the folios showed no balance at home. I cast the burden on the Lord. Next morning on waking I felt inclined to trouble, but the Lord gave me a word. I know their sorrows, and them come down to deliver. Certainly I will be with thee. And before six a.m. I was assured that help was at hand when near noon I received a letter from Mr. Mueller which had been to Ningpo, and thus delayed in reaching me, and which continued more than three hundred pounds. My need now is great and urgent, but God is greater and more near. And because he is what he is, all must be, all is, all will be, well. Oh, my dear brother, the joy of knowing the living God, of seeing the living God, of resting on the living God, and in our very special and peculiar circumstances. I am but his agent. He will have to look after his own honor, provide for his own servants, and supply all our need according to his own riches, you helping by your prayers and work of faith and labor of love. In a note to his wife that spring, Hudson included a sobering report. The balance in hand yesterday was eighty-seven cents, but to that he added, the Lord reigns, herein is our joy and rest. And to Mr. Baller he added, when the balance was still lower, we have this and all the promises of God. Twenty-five cents, Baller recalled later, plus all the promises of God, why, one felt as rich as Croesus. Hudson challenged everyone to trust in God's provision, and he wrote numerous letters with the same warning that he gave to a council member in the following letter. I am truly sorry that you should be distressed at not having funds to send me. May I not say, be careful for nothing. We should use all care to economize what God does send us. But when that is done, bear no care about real or apparent lack. After living on God's faithfulness for many years, I can testify that times of want have ever been times of special blessing, or have led to them. I do beg that never any appeal for funds be put forward, save to God only in prayer. When our work becomes a begging work, it will die. God is faithful, must be so. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He didn't want anyone connected with the mission to be tempted to help by making financial appeals in meetings or to individuals. So he had chosen the theme of the Xinjiang Conference that sprang from a hymn, In some way or another, the Lord will provide. It was with this same theme in mind that Hudson wrote a letter of support and encouragement to Emily Blatchley, to let her know that he would be heading back to England as soon as possible. In the letter he said, I am sure that if we but wait, the Lord will provide. We go shortly, that is, Mr. Judd and myself, to see if we can procure headquarters at Wuzhang, from which to open up western China as the Lord may enable us. We are urged on to make this effort now, though so weak-handed, both by the need of the unreached provinces and by our having funds in hand for work in them, while we have none for general purposes. I cannot conceive how we shall be helped through next month, though I fully expect that we shall be. The Lord cannot and will not fail us. Things didn't look much better financially by the time Hudson had returned from Wuchong after getting his friend, Mr. Judd, established in a new station there. So the Taylors set out once again to England to see about their friend, Emily Blatchley, and to do what they could for the mission work at home. But this homecoming turned out to be a sad one. Emily Blatchley, faithful friend to the end, had died while they were en route. The Taylors found the house at Pireland Road empty, the children scattered among various friends and relatives, the homework of the mission at a standstill, even the weekly prayer meetings discontinued. Mission business seemed in as much disarray at home as it had been in China the last time that they arrived there. To Hudson it must have seemed a new all-time low point in the life of his mission, and yet things were about to sink even lower. On his trip up the Ganges to reach Wuchong, Hudson had slipped on the gangway of a small cargo boat and fallen hard, spraining an ankle and wrenching his back. Though he was disabled a few days at the time, he was eventually able to walk and endure the resulting pain. But now, within a week or two of his return to London, he began to feel a numbness in his limbs. His doctor diagnosed the problem as a concussion of the spine and ordered absolute and complete bed rest. Even then he offered only faint hope that Hudson would ever be able to stand or walk again. Hudson had no choice but to lie in his upstairs room, conscious of all there was to be done for the mission, all that could not be attended to. He had been halfway around the world and back three times and seen more of China than any European since Marco Polo, and was still clinging to the vision that God wanted him to take the gospel to all the unreached provinces of that land. Yet, here he lay, his personal realm suddenly limited to a narrow four-poster bed. But on the wall at the foot of his bed, where he could see it always between the posts, hung Hudson's big map of China. Years later, a church leader from Scotland said to Hudson, You must sometimes be tempted to be proud because of the wonderful way God has used you. I doubt if any man living has had greater honor. On the contrary, Hudson replied, I often think that God must have been looking for someone small enough and weak enough for him to use. And then he found me. For it was indeed in Hudson's weakness that God began to work in a mighty way. The outlook did not brighten as the year drew to a close. Hudson's paralysis progressed. He was less and less able to move and could only turn in bed with the help of a rope fixed above him. At first, he had managed to write a little, but now he could not even hold a pen. It was then, with the dawn of 1875, that the Christian press printed a little paper he had written titled, Appeal for Prayer on Behalf of More Than 150 Million of Chinese. Briefly, it stated the facts with regard to the nine unevangelized provinces and the aims of the mission. Four thousand pounds, it said, had recently been given for the special purpose of sending the gospel to these distant regions. Chinese Christians were ready to take part in the work. The urgent need was for more missionaries, young men willing to face any hardship in leading the way. Will each of your Christian readers, the article requested, at once rise and raise his heart to God, spending one minute in earnest prayer that God will raise up this year eighteen suitable men to devote themselves to this work? The article didn't say that the leader of the mission was, to all appearances, a hopeless invalid. It did not refer to the fact that the four thousand pounds had come from Hudson and his wife. It was part of their capital from her recent inheritance. They were already donating all the interest from the capital to the work of the mission anyway. Neither did the article mention the covenant of two or three years previously when Hudson and a few friends determined to pray daily in faith for the eighteen evangelists until they should be given. And yet, many who read the article were moved by its challenge. Before long, Hudson's correspondence began to increase. So did his joy and confidence in dealing with it, or rather seeing how the Lord dealt with it. He wrote of this time, The mission had no paid helpers, but God led volunteers without prearrangement to come in from day to day to write from dictation. If one who called in the morning could not stay long enough to answer all letters, another was sure to come, and perhaps one or two might look in in the afternoon. Occasionally, a young friend employed in the city would come in after business hours and do needful bookkeeping, or finish letters not already dealt with. So it was, day by day. One of the happiest periods of my life was that period of inactivity when one could do nothing but rejoice in the Lord and wait patiently for Him, and see Him meeting all one's needs. Never were my letters, before or since, kept so regularly and promptly answered. And the eighteen asked of God began to come. There was some first correspondence, then they came to see me in my room. Soon I had a class studying Chinese at my bedside. In due time, the Lord sent them all forth, and then dear friends at Mid-May, the nearby Christian Conference Center, began to pray for my restoration. The Lord blessed that means also, and I was risen up. One reason for my being laid aside was gone. Had I been well and able to move about, some might have thought that my urgent appeals, rather than God's working, had sent the eighteen men to China. But utterly laid aside, able only to dictate a request for prayer, the answer to our prayers was the more apparent. One of those who came during this time was the Reverend C. G. Moore, a candidate in eventually a number of the mission serving in China. He wrote this about his first meeting with Hudson Taylor at Peril and Road. His study was the back room on the ground floor, and could be entered from the front sitting room by large folding doors. Shall I say I was shocked, or surprised, or both? At any rate, I had an absolutely novel experience. The room was largely occupied with packing cases and some rough shelves set along one of the walls. Near the window, which looked out on the dreary back gardens, was a writing table littered with papers. In front of the fireplace, where a fender is usually found for a low, narrow iron bedstead, neatly covered with a rug, Mr. Taylor's chief resting place by night and by day. I hardly think there was a scrap of carpet on the floor, and certainly not a single piece of furniture that suggested the slightest regard for comfort or appearance. Mr. Taylor offered no word of apology or explanation, but lay down on his iron bedstead and eagerly plunged into a conversation, which was, for me, one of life's golden moments. Every idea I had hitherto cherished of a great man was completely shattered. The high, imposing airs and all the trappings were conspicuously absent, but Christ's ideal of greatness was then and there so securely set in my heart that it has remained through all the years up to this moment. I strongly suspect that by his unconscious influence, Mr. Hudson Taylor did more than any other man of his day to compel Christian people to revise their ideas of greatness. I mention these details because they show light upon some of the important principles upon which Mr. Taylor based his life and service. He profoundly realized that if the millions of China were to be evangelized, they would have to be a vast increase in self-denial and self-sacrifice upon the part of Christians at home. But how could he ask and urge others to do what he was not practicing himself? So he deliberately stripped his life on all sides of every appearance of self-consideration and self-indulgence. And it was just the same in China. But there an additional principle came into action. He would not ask those who worked with him to face hardships he himself was not willing to endure. He never used his position as director of the mission to purchase himself the least advantage or ease. He made it his, under all circumstances, to live in that spirit and practice of self-sacrifice which he expected to find in his brethren on the field. However hard his lot might be in China, every missionary knew that Mr. Taylor had suffered in the same way and was ready to do so again. No man could suspect at any time that while he himself was bearing the cross, his leader, under more favorable circumstances, was shirking it. Herein was one explanation of the remarkable and affectionate attachment to Mr. Taylor on the part of so many in the mission. But just as the friends and candidates of the mission were challenged by Hudson Taylor's example, they also learned to trust the power of prayer. The monthly remittance to be cabled to China on one occasion was very small, nearly 235 pounds less than the average expenditures to be covered. So when the household gathered for noon prayers, Hudson suggested, let us bring the matter to the Lord in prayer. That very evening, the postman brought a letter which was found to contain a check to be entered. From the sale of a plate it said, do you know what the sum was? Just over 235 pounds. Once after he was able to be up and about again, Hudson was returning from a meeting when he happened to take a seat on a train beside a Russian nobleman who had heard him speak at the meeting. As they traveled to London together, Count Bobrinsky took out his pocketbook. Allow me to give you a trifle, he said, toward your work in China. But the banknote he handed to Mr. Taylor was a large sum. Hudson realized that there must have been some mistake. Did you not mean to give me five pounds, he asked? Please let me return this note. It is for 50. I cannot take it back, replied the Count, who was just as surprised as Hudson. Five pounds was what I meant to give. But God must have intended you to have 50. I cannot take it back. Impressed with what had just taken place, Hudson reached Pireland Road to find family and friends gathered for special prayer. A China remittance was to be sent out, and the money in hand was short by 49 pounds, 11 shillings. There on the table, Hudson laid his banknote for 50 pounds. But even after all the answers to prayer of those years, enormous barriers still remained. In fact, in the months immediately after the 18 pioneer missionaries sailed from England for China, the two countries again came to the brink of war. A British official traveling into far western China was murdered, and when the government in London lodged a protest, the Chinese government ignored the demands. The British ambassador, having exhausted all diplomatic channels, left Peking for the coast to sail home. War looked inevitable at the very time Hudson was preparing to follow the 18 new missionaries to China, accompanied by yet another eight new workers. Many friends of the mission tried to talk Hudson out of going. You will all have to return, they said, and as to sending off pioneers to the more distant provinces, it is simply out of the question. But Hudson felt certain that there had been no mistake. The men and money were finally available. Certainly the time had come to take the gospel where it had never been before. Was inland China going to remain closed? Hudson spent many long hours on his knees in the third-class cabin of the French steamer that carried the tailors and their eight new young colleagues toward China. Two years before he had written, my soul yearns, oh, how intensely, for the evangelization of the 180 millions of these unoccupied provinces. Oh, that I had a hundred lives to give or spend for their good. In the meantime, he did everything in his power and more to keep that vision alive. He and the mission had gone through so much, and now? At the last moment, the Chinese government relented. The viceroy, Li Hongzhao, rushed to the coast, overtaking the British minister at Caifu. And it was there that the memorable convention was signed, which finally promised complete access to every part of China. When Hudson reached Shanghai, the good news awaited him. The agreement had been signed the week after he sailed from England, and three parties of the Eighteen had already set out and were well on their way into the interior. Just as our brethren were ready, Hudson wrote, not too soon, not too late. The long closed door opened to them of its own accord. 1876-1881 While the doors to inland China were technically open for some years, they were only open a crack. But the Caifu convention, in effect, flung wide the doors. The agreement not only stated that foreigners were at liberty to travel anywhere in the emperor's dominions, early agreements had promised that, but this time foreign travelers went with the guarantee of the emperor's own protection, and were to be received with respect, and in no way hindered in their journey. Imperial proclamations declaring the policy were to be posted in every city, and for a period of two years, British officials could be sent anywhere in China to make sure that all these provisions were carried out. The China Inland Mission representatives were the first, and in many parts of China the only, foreigners to make use of this opportunity. And on more than one occasion, alarmed local government officials would welcome the unexpected missionaries to a new city with elaborate hospitality, while their minions hurriedly tacked up the official documents they were supposed to have already posted. Far and wide the pioneer missionaries traveled, crossing and recrossing all the provinces of the interior, and penetrating even into Tibet. Over 30,000 miles these men journeyed in the first 18 months. The way, however, wasn't at all easy, for while the Chinese government approved their travel, many leaders still resented the presence of Westerners, and the rigors of travel mostly on foot or by wheelbarrow remained as difficult as ever. Hudson himself was able to accomplish little of what he had planned in the first few months back in China. A fever he caught while sailing up the China Sea led to a serious illness that confined him for some time in Xinjiang, where he could do little except pray and help with mission correspondence. It is difficult to realize that I cannot run about as I once did, he wrote to his wife Jenny. She had stayed in England to care for the Taylor children, the older four, two little ones born to her, and the adopted orphan daughter of George Duncan. And in a later letter he added, The weakness that prevents overwork may be the greatest blessing to me, but overwork could hardly be avoided. In addition to his responsibility as director of the work in China and the editing of China's Millions, a new illustrated magazine the mission published and sold back in England, Hudson soon took over the office duties of the mission secretary whose health forced him to go on furlough. Whenever work permitted, Hudson liked to take a break to play the harmonium and sing hymns. His favorite contained the words, Jesus, I am resting, resting in the joy of what thou art. I am finding out the greatness of thy loving heart. One of the eighteen missionary evangelists, Mr. George Nichols, was with Hudson on one occasion when the mail arrived in the office with the disturbing news of serious rioting around two of the older stations of the mission. Thinking Hudson might wish to be alone, the younger man was about to withdraw when, to his surprise, Hudson began to whistle that same refrain, Jesus, I am resting, resting in the joy of what thou art. Turning in surprise, George Nichols explained, How can you whistle when our friends are in so much danger? Would you have me anxious and troubled? Hudson responded. That would not help them and would certainly incapacitate me for work. I have just to roll the burden on the Lord. Day and night that was exactly what he did. Frequently anyone awake in the little mission house of Chin Yang might hear at 2 a.m. or 3 a.m. the soft refrain of Hudson's favorite hymn, which spelled out his strategy for handling all the pressures and problems that the mission faced. Hudson regained strength enough to travel. He knew he would need to stay longer in China than the 40 weeks he had originally planned. Sometimes it does seem hard, he wrote Jenny, to be away from you. But when I think of the one who spent 33 years away from his heaven and finished them on Calvary, I feel ashamed of my own selfishness. Though Hudson and Jenny enjoyed a wonderful reunion when he returned after 16 months in China, their time together was short, for Hudson brought with him the dreadful news of a famine in North China, where 6 million Chinese faced starvation after several straight years of lost crops. The two pioneer missionaries recently sent to that region reported that children were dying by the thousands and young girls were being sold into slavery and taken away in large numbers to be resold in southern Chinese cities. Hudson felt so burdened by the conditions in North China that he devoted most of his energy to telling Christians throughout Britain about the needed relief work. But when funds began coming in for the rescue of starving children, the next problem became obvious. Where was the woman who could go to that province to head up the relief work among the women and children? No European woman had ever been beyond the mountains that separated Shanxi from the coast. Just to get there meant a journey of two weeks by mule litter over dangerous roads with miserable ends at night. Experienced, devoted with the knowledge of the language, and having already earned the confidence of fellow missionaries, both men and women, Jenny Taylor couldn't help thinking she was the person who needed to go. But how could she? She and Hudson had just been separated for more than a year. He, as usual, had worn himself out in China and could use her help with mission business at home. And who would care for the seven children? As she struggled with the decision, Jenny prayed that God would give her a sign. I felt like Gideon, she wrote, that my strength in China would be Have not I commanded thee? And I wanted some fleeces to confirm my faith. And as a token for those who would have me remain at home, I asked God to give me in the first place money to purchase certain requisites for outfit, as we had none to spare, and further to give me liberally as much as fifty pounds so that there might be money in hand when I went away. The very next day, a friend called to see her, saying, Will you accept a little gift for your own use or get anything you need for the journey? And the gift was ten pounds, exactly the allowance the mission made for outfitting a missionary for the trip to China. A few days later, she received another unexpected check for exactly fifty pounds. Her fleeces so precisely answered, she knew what she must do. And finally, the solution to her great concern was also provided when Hudson's sister, Amelia Broomhall, who lived next door to the Powerland Road headquarters, announced, If Jenny is called to go to China, I am called to care for her children. So for another year, Hudson and Jenny were separated. While she ministered to the needs of starving women and children in North China, he oversaw the training of yet another thirty new missionaries and began to see a new complication resulting from the expansion of the mission. The pioneer missionaries naturally sought headquarters where they could establish their own homes. And just as naturally, many decided to get married. That meant sending women into the vast interior of China, something no other mission had ever done. And immediately prompted a new wave of criticism about the China Inland Mission's policies. Married couples would soon have children, and single women would have need to be sent to help take care of some of the busy mothers' duties of evangelism and teaching among the Chinese women. And if he thought the criticism for sending married women out into pioneer missionary work was severe, it was nothing compared to the outcry over allowing single women to be exposed to the dangers and hardships of life in inland China. But Hudson, having seen the great effectiveness of Maria during his early days in China, and now having sent Jenny on her unprecedented assignment into Chanxi, had great confidence in the courage, strength, and resourcefulness of women missionaries. So by the time he and Jenny were reunited in Shanghai in 1879 for an extended tour of the mission centers around China, the decision to open up women's work was already made. And it soon turned out to be one of the most significant decisions Hudson ever made. Stranded for a time in the Yangtze Gorges, the first women who went to the far west spent a strange Christmas amid their belongings spread out to dry upon the rocks. And what crowds overwhelmed them when they reached their destinations. For nearly two months, Mrs. Nichols wrote from Chongqing, I have seen some hundreds of women daily. Our house has been like a fair. More than once she fainted from exhaustion in the midst of crowds of guests who came to sit and listen to the gospel story told by the only white woman in a province of some 60 million people. And when she returned to consciousness, she would find the woman fanning her, full of affection and concern. One lady who cared for her like a mother would send round her own sedan chair with an urgent request for Mrs. Nichols to return in it immediately. The most comfortable bed in her apartment was waiting and after sending out all of the younger women, she would sit down herself to fan the weary visitor till she fell asleep. Then an inviting dinner was prepared and on no account was Mrs. Nichols allowed to leave until she ate a healthy meal. Everywhere those first women went, they were surprised at how glad the people were to see them. How eager they were to hear the message. And not just out of curiosity, but with genuine interest in the Bible and in this man, Jesus. So that by the end of the second year after missionary women came on the scene, the pioneers were rejoicing in 60 or 70 converts gathered into little churches in the far inland provinces. But no one knew the cost and the danger of such work any better than Hudson Taylor. Having lost his beloved Maria to the demands and disease of China, he prayed every day for the health and safety of every woman in the mission. But as he wrote his mother, I cannot tell you how glad my heart is to see the work extending and consolidating in the remotest parts of China. It is worth living for and yes, worth dying for. Indeed, he almost did die. It was a great blessing that Jenny was with him in China because his life was threatened by illness three times during 1879. Her supportive, inspiring attitude can be seen in a letter written at that time which she said, Don't you think that if we set ourselves not to allow any pressure to rob us of communion with the Lord, we may live lives of hourly triumph, the echo for which will come back to us from every part of the mission? I have been feeling that these last months that all of our work, the most important is that unseen upon the Mount of Intercession, our faith must gain the victory for the fellow workers God has given us. They fight the seen and we must fight the unseen battle. And dare we claim less than constant victory when it is for Him and we come in His name? Though Hudson did pull through and began to regain his strength, his trial regarding finances continued. Funds seemed to be dropping lower and lower. We need much prayer, but God cannot fail us. Let us trust and not be afraid, he wrote to a fellow missionary. And when another friend noted how much of his convalescence seemed to be sent in prayer, Hudson asked, What would you do if you had a large family and nothing to give them to eat? That is almost my situation at present. When word reached China that both of their mothers had died within a few weeks of each other, Hudson and Jenny decided she was needed at home. He would follow as soon as possible. His wife had only been gone 10 days when he wrote, I am sure you have been longing for me as I have for you. At the right time, by the right way, the Lord will bring us together again. Let us seek to live all the more with Him to find Him a satisfying portion. And a month later as he journeyed up the Ganks, he wrote, You are plowing the Mediterranean and will soon see Naples. I am waiting for a steamer to Huacheng. I cannot, need not, tell you how much I miss you. But God is making me feel how rich we are in His presence and love. He is helping me to rejoice in our adverse circumstances, in our poverty, in the retirements from our mission. All these difficulties are only platforms for the manifestations of His grace, His power, and His love. I am very busy, he continued from Huacheng when his meetings there had begun. God is giving us a happy time of fellowship together and is confirming us in the principles on which we are acting. Now that last statement was a crucial declaration of confidence for the time. Hudson, alone, and along with all the other missionaries who gathered at Huacheng had recommitted themselves to continue the current course of the mission. And the mission was fast approaching another point of crisis. After years of prayer, patience, and persevering effort, a position of unparalleled opportunity had been reached. Inland China lay open before them. But reinforcements were needed at all the settlement stations in the far north, the south, and the west. Not to advance would be to retreat from the position of faith taken up at the beginning. Not advancing would mean surrendering to difficulties rather than trusting the living God. True, funds were low and had been for years. It was also true that the new workers coming out to China were few. So it would have been easy to say, for the present, no further extension is possible. But not to move forward would mean throwing away the new opportunities God had given. And the feeling among the missionaries was that pulling back could not be God's way for the evangelization of inland China. So the members of the China Inland Mission instead took a bold and startling step of faith. They agreed and then sent home word of their agreement to pray for 70 new workers to come to China. Now at a time when the entire membership of the mission totaled only a little more than a hundred workers, when funds for their own support were greatly strained, the missionaries agreed to pray for 70 more. Since it didn't seem practical to receive and arrange for so many new missionaries in a shorter time, they set a three-year time frame on the expansion. As the conference came to agreement on the matter, someone exclaimed, if only we could meet again and have a united praise meeting when the last of the 70 had reached China. We shall be widely scattered then, said another missionary. But why not have the praise meeting now? Why not give thanks for the 70 before we separate? So they held another prayer service, this time to give thanks in advance for God's answer to their request. But despite this great display of faith, there were many people back in England, friends and critics alike, who doubted that it would ever happen. 1882 to 1888. In faith, Hudson and his fellow missionaries waited for encouraging word and added support from home. But instead of having their faith rewarded with new and greater resources for advancing into the territory, the existing work of the mission suffered a greater shortage of funds than ever. In October 1882 he wrote, We were at table when we received our letters, the whole mail, and when on opening one of them I found instead of seven or eight hundred pounds for the month's supplies, only just over ninety-six pounds. My feelings I shall not soon forget. I closed the envelope again and seeking my room knelt down and spread the letter before the Lord. Asking him what was to be done with less than ninety-seven pounds, a sum it was impossible to distribute over seventy stations in which were eighty or ninety missionaries, including their wives, not to speak of a hundred native helpers and more than the number of native children to be fed and clothed in all of the schools. Having first rolled the burden on the Lord, I then mentioned the matter to others of our own mission in Kaifu, and we unitedly looked to him to come to our aid, but no hint as to our circumstances was allowed to reach anyone outside. Soon the answers began to come, kind gifts from local friends who little knew the peculiar value of their donations, and help in other ways, until the needs of the month were all met without our having been burdened with anxious thoughts even for an hour. We had similar experiences in November and December. Thus the Lord made our hearts sing for joy and provided through local contributions in China for the needs of the work as never before or since. Experiencing this provision for their current needs, the missionaries felt all the more reassured that God would answer their prayers for the seventy new workers. But, realizing the growing doubts back in England, Hudson and his friends gathered for a prayer meeting on the second of February to ask God for some sign that would serve as his stamp of approval and encourage the doubters back home. As Hudson explained, we knew that our father loves to please his children, and we asked him lovingly to please us as well as to encourage timid ones at home by leading someone of his wealthy stewards to make room for large blessing for himself and his family by giving liberally to this special object. It was just a few days later when Hudson sailed for England, so he didn't hear the results of that prayer until his ship stopped at Aden. Though no word of that special prayer meeting had reached home, the home staff at Peril and Road had been thrilled to receive on the second of February an anonymous gift of three thousand pounds. Enclosed with the gift was a verse, Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance and the uttermost parts of the earth for my possession. And that was an all. The gift was sent in an unusual way. It was signed from Father, Mother, and Five Children. It was striking, wrote Hudson, to see how literally God had answered our prayer and led his faithful steward to make room for a large blessing for himself and his family. And by the time Hudson reached London that spring, he recognized a growing respect for and interest in the work of the China Inland Mission. Word of their pioneering work had begun to spread. Alexander Wiley of the London Missionary Society had written, They are opening up the country, and this is what we want. Other missions are doing a good work, but they are not doing this kind of work. John McCarthy had just returned on furlough after walking clear across China from east to west, preaching in cities all along the way. Henry Salteau and J.W. Stevenson, the first Europeans to enter western China from Burma, had also arrived to share their experiences. So when Hudson arrived and began making known the appeal for the Seventy, the Christian community took a new interest in China. Hudson's brother-in-law, Benjamin Brumall, had taken over the responsibility of General Secretary of the Home Council and had made many new friends for the mission. So Hudson was invited all over the country to talk about the work. And everywhere he went, people were moved as they heard the story of the mission and the ongoing needs of China. One of the mission's new friends, a minister from Gloucester, said of Hudson's extensive speaking to her, You could be quite sure that whatever else he might say, he would make no plea for funds. Often I used to hear him explain, almost apologetically, that his great desire was that no funds should be diverted from other societies to the China Inland Mission, and that it was for this reason he had taken up lines of working which he hoped would preclude interference with other organizations. Nothing gave him more genuine pleasure than to speak well of other missions. Oh, the self-emptied spirit, the dignified way in which his life of faith was lived out, the reality of it all. Instead of wanting to get anything out of it, he was always ready to give to you. His heart and mind were full of that. Some people seem to be asking all the time, though they may not do so in actual words, he never. At one conference where he spoke about the needs of China and didn't even mention his own mission's name, even though no collection was taken, the people emptied their purses and stripped off their jewelry to donate it to the cause, and according to one contemporary account, fifteen or sixteen offers for the mission field were the result, and a whole jewelry case was sent in the next day. People had received so much that they felt they could give anything. Even those who had only heard about Hudson Taylor responded. One child from Cambridge to whom Hudson Taylor was a household name wrote saying, If you are not dead yet, I want to send you the money I have saved up to help the little boys and girls of China to love Jesus. Cannon Wilberforce of Southampton also wrote at this time urging, Will you do me the kindness to give a Bible reading in my house to about sixty people and spend the night with us? Please do us this favor in the Master's name. And Lord Bradstock wrote from the continent saying, Much love to you and the Lord. You are a great help to us in England by strengthening our faith. And from Dr. Andrew Bonar came one hundred pounds forwarded from an unknown Presbyterian friend who cares for the land of Sinai. Spurgeon invited him to speak at the Tabernacle and Miss McPherson invited him to Bethnal Green. My heart is still in the glorious work, wrote Mr. Burger with a check of five hundred pounds. Most heartily do I join you in praying for seventy more laborers. But I do not stop at seventy. Surely we shall see greater things than these if we are empty of self, seeking only God's glory and the salvation of souls. So full was Hudson's time with meetings that it seemed he hardly had time for his directorial duties. And yet one volume, used to note mission correspondence when received, when answered, and a line about the contents, shows that Hudson personally attended to twenty-six hundred letters in the course of only ten months' time. There always seemed to be so much work to do, and yet that work was being rewarded. Representatives of the China Inland Mission speaking at Oxford and Cambridge played a major role in the beginning of a student revival which flamed bright and blazed across Britain and eventually to North America. Even at its beginning, it inspired so many to consider missionary services that the China Inland Mission was soon flooded with inquiries and enough support that Hudson was able to sail for China to help prepare for the imminent arrival of the last of the seventy, even before the full three-year period was up. Though heartened to know that the mission and its work had grown popular at home, Hudson knew that the expansion in China would mean even greater challenges. Soon we shall be in the midst of the battle, he wrote from the China Sea, but the Lord our God in the midst of us is mighty, so we will trust and not be afraid. He will save. He will save all the time and in everything. And again some months later, he wrote to Jenny, flesh and heart often fail. Let them fail. He faileth not. Pray very much. Pray constantly, for Satan rages against us. There is much to distress. Your absence is a great and ever-present trial, and there is all the ordinary and extraordinary conflict. But the encouragements are also wonderful. No other word approaches the truth, and a half of them cannot be told in writing. No one dreams of the mighty work going on in connection with our mission. Other missions, too, doubtless are being greatly used. I look for a wonderful year. When he sailed for China, he planned to be back in England by the end of the year. But the unfinished work kept him into and through 1886, the most fruitful year the mission had yet experienced. Hudson spent months on an extensive inland tour, visiting new stations, instructing his missionaries, holding conferences, meeting with Chinese Christians, and even engaging in new evangelistic ventures. Old colleagues in distant stations, some he hadn't seen for years, shared old memories and rejoiced with Hudson at the exciting new growth of the mission. Younger missionaries found inspiration in the presence and the faithful example of the mission's leader. And in discussions with Hudson, they all dreamed and planned about the future of the work. We all saw visions at that time, recalled one missionary who traveled with Hudson. Those were days of heaven upon earth. Nothing seemed difficult. Hudson amazed his younger colleagues with his endurance as they traveled by foot and packed mule over rugged terrain in the remotest regions of China. Often the ends where they stayed were so crude that the travelers shared sleeping quarters with their mules who would be so hungry that they would eat the straw from the missionaries' pallets as they tried to sleep. Many times, there were no ends to be found at all. And in the hottest weather, the missionaries were sometimes forced to travel at night. One young missionary, a noted athlete, back in England, wrote about the rigors of Chinese travel. Night traveling was one of the hardest experiences I've ever had because I could not sleep by day. Occasionally, when I did drop off, I would wait to find that Mr. Taylor had been looking after me, rigging up mosquito netting to keep the flies away. Walking at night, I had been so sleepy that even the motion could not keep me awake. And having fallen right down while plodding on, the tumble was all that roused one for the time being. The inns being closed at night, we often used to lie down by the roadside where the animals had to be fed. Our own fare consisted chiefly of rice and millet. Occasionally, we were able to purchase a chicken, eggs, cucumbers, or a little fruit. But we did not stop at regular stages. And as it was the rainy season, nothing was brought out for sale in the places through which we passed. With so much rain, we often got soaked completely through. The way we managed was to take off our garments one by one and dry them in front of the fire. On one occasion, this so offended the kitchen god that Mr. Taylor had to come and make peace. Of course, we carried no bedding, though Mr. Taylor always had two pillows, one for the head and one for the thigh. And we each carried a plaid. The medicine chest sometimes came in useful as an extra pillow. I remember coming to one river where there were a few houses and people who made a harvest by carrying travelers over. They met us saying that the river was impassable. Nevertheless, for a thousand cash apiece, they would take us across. This was outrageous. So I went into the water which was rising by inches, the rain being a perfect deluge. And when the men saw we were not to be deterred, they came and gave some help, glad to be paid a fair price for their work. After we were over, the water rose by feet. Had we been half an hour later, no crossing would have been possible. The river was by that time a wild, raging torrent. On the farther side, there was a small village, but no inn. To go on was impossible. Stay we must, though the only shelter we could find was apparently a pig's die. So we turned the occupant out, borrowed a few forms, took the doors off their hinges to lie on, and rolling ourselves in our plaids, prepared to pass the night as comfortably as circumstances would permit. We were only masters of the situation for a short time, however, for the pig came back, charged the makeshift door, which at once fell in, and settled down to share the apartment with us. After reflection, I concluded that it was too cold to turn out on the chance of ignominious defeat at the hands of the enemy. Next day was still cold, high mountains instead of the scion plain, drenching rain instead of burning sun. The road was washed away in places, but still Mr. Taylor would push on. Where the riverside was impassable, we had to clamber up steep banks as best that we could, and follow crumbling tracks on the mountains. Nothing would stop him, though he often begged me to remain behind. We had several narrow escapes from landslides, the path giving way behind us and rolling stones and earth into the stream. We had no fear of robbers and the wolves, though we saw them. They did not attack us. We went forty-eight to fifty miles one day, and the last three stages we made in two, not to miss the mail boat at Han Jong. Hearing Hudson sing on one occasion when the entire party was exhausted and extremely hungry, one of those with him noticed the words, We thank thee, Lord, for this our food, and couldn't help but ask where the food was. Why, it can't be far away, Hudson smiled. Our father knows that we are hungry and will send our breakfast soon, but you'll have to wait and say your grace when it comes, while I shall be ready to begin eating at once. And sure enough, just ahead they met a man with ready-cooked rice to sell, which made an excellent meal. Well, whatever else he had to leave behind on his journey, he always carried a box of matches, candles, and his four-volume Bible. He would invariably get his quiet time an hour before dawn, one of his companions wrote, and then possibly sleep again. When I woke to feed the animals, I always found him reading the Bible by the light of his candle. No matter what the surroundings or the noise in those dirty inns, he never neglected this. He used to pray on such journeys, lying down, for he usually spent long times in prayer, and to kneel would have been too exhausting. The last segment of Hudson's great inland journey looked to be the easiest, a thousand-mile boat ride down the Han River from the northern provinces to the coast. But on this last stage of the trip, Hudson volunteered to take charge of Annie Pierce, the little five-year-old daughter of Han Chung missionaries who feared for the sickly girl's life. Her only hope seemed to be the changed climate at the coast. Annie's parents, knowing that there were no women in Hudson's party, worried about burdening him with their daughter's care for the four- to six-week journey. But Hudson insisted and personally saw, too, the child's clothes and meals on the trip, caring for her and watching over her day and night. My little charge is wonderfully improving, he was able to write Jenny from the boat. She clings to me very lovingly, and it is sweet to feel little arms about one's neck once more. No sooner did Hudson conclude his extensive tour of China than he convened the first meeting of the newly formed China Council of the Mission. As 1886 drew to a close, the recently appointed superintendents of the provinces gathered at Anqing, where Hudson planned to share the results of his trip, discuss the most pressing needs of the mission, and then challenge the leaders of the mission in China to begin thinking about larger future developments. But even Hudson was surprised when after an entire week given to prayer and fasting, those attending the conference agreed that to make any significant advances at all, a hundred new workers were needed right away. A hundred! But as they carefully detailed the needs, Hudson had to agree that with fifty central stations already established, even a hundred new workers would be all too few for the new expansion they planned. So with Hudson's permission, the group cabled a message to London, Pray for a hundred new workers in 1887. What a stir that cable created in England. No mission in history had ever dreamed of sending out such an army of missionary reinforcements. The China Inland Mission only had a hundred and ninety members then. People could hardly believe that they would pray for an increase of more than fifty percent in one year, until Hudson arrived home to tell of the three-part prayer being prayed by the missionaries in China. Before he left, the mission leaders in China agreed to pray not just that God would bring them one hundred new missionaries, but also that, unsolicited, an extra fifty thousand dollars would be received above and beyond the present income so that all the new missionaries' needs would be met. And third, that the extra money would come in large sums so that the small office staff at the home office wouldn't be burdened with extra correspondence and record keeping. And what happened in 1887? Six hundred men and women actually volunteered for services with the China Inland Mission during that year. One hundred two were chosen, equipped, and sent out. Not just fifty thousand dollars, but fifty five thousand dollars in extra income was received without solicitation so that every need was met. Perhaps more amazingly, just eleven gifts covered it all, scarcely adding to the work of the staff. Even so, the answers to prayer placed greater demands on Hudson. He spoke two, three, sometimes four times a day. He seemed to be constantly interviewing interested candidates and still managing a prodigious correspondence load averaging thirteen or fourteen letters a day, every day for twelve months. But the story of the hundred was told by Christians far and wide, creating an even greater interest in China and the work of the mission. As a result, Hudson was invited by Dwight L. Moody to stop in America on his way back to China in 1888. Hudson wrote, I had not the remotest idea in coming to America that anything specially bearing upon the work of the China Inland Mission would grow out of it. I was glad to come when my way was providentially opened. I wanted to see Mr. Moody and had heard of over two thousand students wishful to consecrate their lives to God's service abroad. The American societies I thought are not quite in a position to take up these two thousand and perhaps if we tell them about God's faithfulness they will find it written in their Bibles not to be sent but go. I believed in verbal inspiration and that God would have said be sent if that's what he had wished. Instead he wrote go. I hoped I might be able to encourage some to go. After Hudson spoke to a large student conference Dr. Moody had organized the inspired students took it upon themselves to raise money to be given a support for missionaries in China. The total amount of their giving was enough to pay the yearly expenses of eight missionaries. But far from being joyous over this development Hudson felt a new burden as he explained to have missionaries and no money would be no trouble for me for the Lord is bound to take care of his own. He does not want me to assume his responsibility but to have money and no missionaries is very serious indeed and I do not think it would be kind of you dear friends in America to put this burden upon us and not to send some from among yourselves to use the money. We have the dollars where are the people? Hudson was anxious to get to China and as he said if he had missionaries without money he would be ready to leave immediately trusting that the money would come. He had done just that on numerous occasions but he couldn't just take the money and leave without the missionaries it was to support. Moody encouraged Hudson to make a direct appeal for workers so he did and when the first three were accepted he began to feel glad about having the money in hand but another complication developed. Every time he accepted another candidate that person's friends family and church pledged to underwrite his support so that when the first eight were chosen the original fund remained untouched. It seemed to Hudson that consecrated money was something like consecrated loaves and fishes. There appeared to be no using it up. So it was though he had no previous intention to do so that Hudson immediately established an American branch of the China Inland Mission and with only three months of his arrival sailed from the United States with fourteen young North American missionaries to China. From that time on the China Inland Mission which had always been interdenominational was an international mission as well. In the following years the China Inland Mission mushroomed into a truly worldwide ministry. Thirty-five Scandinavian missionaries ready for service arrived unannounced in Shanghai not long after Hudson had toured Norway and Sweden to speak about the spiritual needs of China. Germany sent contingents of workers from their mission and Australia and New Zealand also joined in the work. Before long the China Council in Shanghai became the center of a greater organization than its founder had ever imagined. But even though the spiritual overflow of his life's work now reached to the ends of the earth even though his sense of responsibility and his workload grew in proportion Hudson Taylor's faith held him up and kept him steady. Those around him noted his strength and an Episcopalian minister who hosted him on a stay in Australia observed, he was an object lesson in quietness. He drew from the bank of heaven every farthing of his daily income. My peace I give unto you. Whatever did not agitate the Sager or ruffle his spirit was not to agitate him. The serenity of the Lord Jesus concerning any matter and at its most crucial moment was his ideal and practical possession. He knew nothing of rush or hurry, of quivering nerves or vexation of spirit. He knew that there is a peace passing all understanding and that all he could not do without it. I am in the study. You are in the big spare room, I said to Mr. Taylor at length. You are occupied with millions, I with tens. Your letters are pressingly important, mine are comparatively little moments, yet I am worried and distressed while you are always calm. Do tell me what makes the difference. My dear McCartney, he replied, the peace you speak of is, in my case, more than a delightful privilege. It is a necessity. I could not possibly get through the work I have to do without the peace of God which passeth all understanding, keeping my mind and heart. That was my chief experience of Mr. Taylor. Are you in a hurry, flurried, distressed? Look up, see the man in the glory, see the face of Jesus shining upon you, the wonderful face of the Lord Jesus Christ. Is he worried or distressed? There is no care on his brow, no least shade of anxiety, yet the affairs are his as much as yours. Keswick teaching, as it is called, was not new to me. I had received those glorious truths and was preaching them to others, but there was the real thing, an embodiment of Keswick teaching such as I had never hoped to see. It impressed me profoundly. Here was a man, almost sixty years of age, bearing tremendous burdens, yet absolutely calm and untroubled. Oh, the pile of letters, any one of which might contain news of death, the lack of funds, of riots, or serious trouble, yet all were opened, read, and answered with the same tranquility. Christ, his reason for peace, his power for calm. Dwelling in Christ, he drew upon his very being and resources in the midst of and concerning the matters in question, and this he did by an attitude of faith as simple as it was continuous. Yet he was delightfully free and natural. I can find no words to describe it save the scriptural lesson or expression in God. He was in God all the time, and God in him. It was the true abiding of John 15. But oh, the lover-like attitude that underlay it! He had in relation to Christ a most bountiful experience of the song of Solomon. It was a wonderful combination. The strength and tenderness of one who amid stern preoccupation, like that of a judge on the bench, carried in his heart the light and love of home. And through it all the vision and spiritual urgency of his earlier years remained undimmed. In fact, his sense of responsibility to obey the last command of the Lord Jesus Christ only increased as he came to see more clearly the meaning of the great commission. He wrote in 1889, I confess with shame that the question, What did our Lord really mean by his command, to preach the gospel to every creature, has never been raised by me. I had labored for many years to carry the gospel further afield as having many others, had laid plans for reaching every unevangelized province and many smaller districts in China, without realizing the plain meaning of our Savior's words to every creature. There were only 40,000 Protestant Christians in all of China. Double that. Triple the number. And suppose each one could take the message of the gospel to just eight of his friends and neighbors. That would only be a million. The inadequacy of all his previous efforts convicted Hudson as he wrote, How are we to treat the Lord Jesus Christ with regard to this last command? Shall we definitively drop the title Lord as applied to him? Shall we take the ground that we are quite willing to recognize him as Savior as far as the penalty of sin is concerned, but are not prepared to own ourselves bought with a price, or Christ as having claim to our unquestioning obedience? How few of the Lord's people have practically recognized the truth that Christ is either Lord of all, or he is the Lord of all. If he is not Lord at all, if we can judge God's word instead of being judged by it, if we can give God as much or little as we like, then we are lords, and he the indebted one to be grateful for our dole, and obliged by our compliance with his wishes. If, on the other hand, he is Lord, let us treat him as such. Why call ye me Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say? So it was that at sixty years of age Hudson Taylor, missionary to all of England, and inland China, broadened his mission's vision even farther. Nothing less would do but to begin a systematic effort to obey Jesus' command, and share the story of his love and sacrifice with every man, woman, and child in all of China. Jenny returned to China with Hudson in 1891, amazed at how much the mission had grown and was still growing. As remarkable as it had seemed in 1887, when a hundred missionaries went to China in one year, in 1890 and 91, the China Inland Mission welcomed a hundred and thirty-one new missionaries in Shanghai in less than six months' time, sixty-six of them arriving in one three-week period. The history of Christian missions had seen nothing like it. And the advances in China weren't limited to the work of the China Inland Mission. Between 1890 and 1895, eleven hundred and fifty-three new missionaries went to China through various mission agencies, and the work continued to grow. By 1900, there were seven hundred and fifty China Inland Mission members. Four million dollars had been raised without anyone but God being asked to give. And there was no debt. Over seven hundred Chinese workers were connected with the mission, and thirteen thousand Chinese believers had been baptized. Prospects for the brand-new century looked even more exciting, with the first steps begun in a deliberately strategy designed to reach every person in China with the gospel. But then, the Boxer Rebellion of 1900 broke out, and its madness swept the country. With the official blessing of the Dowager Empress, the fanatical boxers rose up from one end of China to the other in religious and patriotic fervor to drive out the devil foreigners. Hudson, his health broken during his tenth term of active missionary work in China, 1898 and 1899, had, at Jenny's insistence, agreed to travel to Switzerland to rest and try to recover. They no sooner arrived there when the terrible word reached them. Telegram after telegram came telling of riots, massacres, and of hunting down of refugees in station after station of the China Inland Mission. Each new word brought greater and greater sorrow until Hudson weakened emotionally and physically to the point that he thought he could bear no more. I cannot read, he said at that point. I cannot pray. I cannot scarcely even think. But I can trust. Before the rebellion ended and order was restored in China, thousands had died, including 58 China Inland Missionary members along with 21 of their children, and countless Chinese converts of the mission. Yet when the violence did end, the China Inland Mission returned to its centers, many of which had been destroyed, and resumed the work without so much as a single demand of the Chinese government for compensation. That attitude of courage and forgiveness made such an impression that helped set the stage for a new era of effective evangelism in China. The words of a white-haired Chinese pastor in Chuanxi came true. Kingdoms may perish, he said just before he was killed at the Boxer Rebellion, but the Church of Christ can never be destroyed. Hudson stepped down from the directorship of the mission in 1900, and his health prevented his return to China for some time. By the time he regained enough strength for another round-the-world journey, Jenny was herself dying of cancer. So he stayed and cared for her until she died in July of 1904. During her last night, though she had obvious difficulty breathing, she kept assuring Hudson that she felt no pain, no pain. But toward morning, seeing the anguish on his face, she finally whispered, Ask him to take me quickly. Never had Hudson prayed such a difficult prayer, but for his wife's sake he asked God to free her spirit. Within the next five minutes Jenny's breathing grew quieter, and then all was at peace. Hudson's sense of desolation was unspeakable. On the wall of the tailor's sitting room hung a scripture text, the last purchase the couple had made together. Many times in the days following Jenny's death Hudson looked upon this through tears to those words in blue on their white background. It said, Faithful is he who made the promises. He told a friend, All we have to do is look up with patience to see how he will prove it true. Early the following year Hudson sailed with his son and daughter-in-law to China. At 73 years of age he made a long remarkable tour of the country that took him to many spots and even into the province of Hunan where he had never journeyed before. And oh how the people responded, both missionaries and the Chinese everywhere he went. He was called Venerable Father and Benefactor of China by many who came to greet him. Crowds gathered to hear him whenever he spoke and sometimes just to see him pass. The trip into Hunan had to be especially gratifying. It was the last of the provinces to get a permanent China Inland Mission station, and it hadn't been fully accessible until after the Boxer Rebellion. Hudson was anxious to see that part of the country, and as his party crossed the wide expanse of Tongting Lake and steamed up river toward the capital of Qingsha he couldn't help but have thought about all the toil and prayer that had gone into opening up the last province of China to the gospel. Less than ten years before not one missionary had settled there. Now there were no fewer than 111 from 13 different mission agencies with work in 17 different cities and a strong band of Chinese Christians working along with them. The advances were indeed remarkable. A work of God was the only way people could think to describe the impact of Hudson Taylor's life and of the China Inland Mission, but Hudson's response was summed up in his words, We cannot do much, but we can do a little, and God can do a great deal. On Saturday, June 30th, 1905, the missionaries in Hunan's capital city welcomed Hudson with a reception. That evening his daughter-in-law went into his room to check on him. Dear Father was in bed, the lamp burning on the chair beside him, and he was leaning over it with his pocketbook lying open, and the home letters it contained spread out as he loved to have them. I drew the pillow up more comfortably under his head and sat down on the low chair close beside him, and he said nothing. I began talking a little about the pictures in the missionary review lying open on the bed. I was just in the middle of a sentence when Dear Father turned his head quickly and gave a little gasp. I looked up, thinking he was going to sneeze, but another came, then another. He was not choking or distressed for breath. He did not look at me or seem conscious of anything. I ran to the door and called Howard, his son, but before he could reach the bedside it was evident that the end had come. I ran back to call Dr. Keller, who was just at the foot of the stairs. In less time than it takes to write it, he was with us, but only to see Dear Father draw his last breath. It was not death, but the glad, swift entry upon life immortal. And, oh, the look of rest and calm that came over the dear face was wonderful. The weight of years seemed to pass away in a few moments. The weary line He looked like a child quietly sleeping, and the very room seemed full of unutterable peace. Hudson Taylor's body was taken in a casket generously purchased by poor Chinese Christians from the province of Hunan to the family plot in a little cemetery at Xinjiang. There his body was buried beside those of his wife and children on the banks of the mighty Yangtze River, in the heart of the land he loved and lived and died for. And what was to become of the China Inland Mission? Hudson Taylor had been a man of such unusual faith. God had always blessed the mission while he lived and prayed for it. But what now? Hudson Taylor's legacy lived on and continued to grow through the ministry of the China Inland Mission. By the time the Japanese invaded China during the 1930s and the first stages of the Second World War, the mission's membership had swelled to twelve hundred and eighty-five. The total income since 1900 had reached twenty million dollars unsolicited. There were between three and four million Chinese workers with the mission, and the baptisms in the first three decades of the 1900s had totaled more than one hundred thousand. The China Inland Mission, like all Christian organizations, was expelled from China when Mao Tse-Tung and his Communists took over the country after World War II. But the mission continues today under the name of Overseas Missionary Fellowship with its headquarters in Singapore, and over one thousand missionaries serving in nine countries throughout Southeast Asia. And the China Inland Mission's impact, like that of Hudson Taylor himself, lives on today in Communist China. Despite the reprehensive decades of Communist persecution, the Chinese Church, just as during the Boxer Rebellion, could not be destroyed, so that when Western Christians regained a measure of access to inland China again in the seventies and eighties, the worldwide Christian Church learned that there were by then millions of Chinese Christians and thousands of House Churches throughout China, and many, if not most, of those millions of Chinese Christians must trace their Christian heritage back to the work of the China Inland Mission and its spiritual father, Hudson Taylor. What was the secret of this spiritual's giant strength that enabled his life to make such an impact? Part of this secret was expressed in the words to one of his favorite verses. He told me of a river bright that flows from him to me, that I might be the delight, a fair and fruitful tree. It is very simple, he wrote, but has he not planted us by the river of living water, that we may be, for his delight, fair and fruitful to his people? God came first to Hudson Taylor's life, not the work, not the needs of China or of the mission, not his own experiences. He knew that the promise was true. Delight thyself also in the Lord, and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. From a practical standpoint, he knew the truth of Oswald Chambers' statement, God does not give us overcoming life, he gives us life as we overcome. And to Hudson Taylor, the secret of overcoming lay in daily, hourly fellowship with God. This, he learned, could only be maintained by personal prayer and faithful meditation on God's word. With the life he lived and its demands on his time and energy, finding opportunity for his own spiritual maintenance wasn't easy. But he made it a priority. On his last journey through China with his son and daughter-in-law, they traveled month after month through northern China by cart and by wheelbarrow. The inns they stayed in by night offered only the crudest accommodations. Often, then, there would be only one large room for everyone spending the night in the inn. His children would screen off a portion of the room for their father with curtains of some sort. Then, after everyone was asleep, they would be wakened to the sound of a match striking, and see the flicker of candlelight which told them Hudson was awake and reading his Bible. From 2 a.m. to 4 a.m. was his usual prayer time, the time he could count on being undisturbed in prayer. And that flicker of candlelight said more to his children about prayer than anything they ever read or heard on the subject. And he not only read it, he lived it. Hudson Taylor stopped at no sacrifice in following Christ. Cross-loving men are needed, he wrote in the midst of his labors in China, and if he could speak to us today, he would no doubt say again. There is a needs-be for us to give ourselves for the life of the world. An easy, non-self-denying life will never be one of power. Fruit-bearing involves cross-bearing. There are not two Christ's, an easy-going one for easy-going Christians, and a suffering, toiling one for exceptional believers. There is only one Christ. Are you willing to abide in Him, and thus to bear much fruit? And with this, we complete the book, Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secret, published by Discovery House. A personal thank you to Dr. Arthur Chang for his assistance in helping me to pronounce the Chinese names in this account. My apologies to him and others where I did not learn my lessons well. Also, thanks to my engineer, Mike Lewis, without whose help and adaptation to my schedule, this program would not be a reality. And thanks to you, the listener, for staying with us. This is Gary Dorman.