FLORENCE'S STORY

God Is So Good - Part 1

I am Chinese, born to parents who had fled from China to Saigon in Viet Nam when the communists came into power in 1946.

My father was an opium addict. Addicts were not allowed to remain in Viet Nam and when he was deported my mother was desperate. She had three children and did not know what to do without a husband. I was just a baby.

Girls and women were treated as without value in the Chinese culture at that time. If a woman did not bear children so that her husband's line could continue, he was allowed to divorce her. My mother found a woman who had been married seven years and had no children. She sold me to that woman for $200 so that she would have money to take her other children to the border to join my father.

As a little girl I felt that my adoptive father loved me. Ironically, when I was about four years old, my mother became pregnant. Unfortunately, children could not save her marriage. My father fell in love with another woman and left my adoptive mother, my baby brother and me. My mother was bitter. She seemed to blame me, and took her rage out on me. She told me that I was "bad, bad, bad!" I believed that I was worthless.

I was always looking for love. I especially missed my father's love. When I was five I started going to school. Each day, on my way to school, I passed a Christian church. I was learning to read. On a sign outside the church was John 3:16: "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." God loved everybody! God loved me! I didn't know what that really meant at the time, but it was my first encounter with God.

My family, as most of the Chinese people I knew, were not Christian. They were ancestor worshipers. In high school I had a classmate who was Catholic, and who talked to me about Christ, but I wouldn't listen to her.

After high school I attended a special school where I learned sewing and tailoring. I was always looking for love and security. When I was nineteen I married a man twenty years older than I was. He was very wealthy and powerful in Saigon. He owned a chicken farm and a factory which made electrical wire. He didn't have much education because his father died when he was only ten and as the oldest boy, he had to work to help support his family. My husband was very smart, and some of his dealings were probably a little shady. I had no money worries and didn't know anything about handling money. When he had business dinners or parties, I had to go with him and look pretty and be friendly to his associates. I would smile and sometimes when we got home, he would think I was too friendly with some man, and was trying to get him to my bed. He would beat me.

We had two children and I was expecting our third, when two months before the fall of South Vietnam to the communists, my husband told me he was going to leave Viet Nam because he was worried about losing all his assets there. He would set up a business and establish a home and then send for us. I believed him, but never heard from him again.

When the communists took over they took everything. My husband had left a bank account and four vehicles as well as his businesses, but the government confiscated it all. They gave each family about $200 of their money. It was rather like getting 200 pesos for $1,000 USD. The government said that when that money was gone, they would give us more, but they never did.

Food was scarce. My mother and brother lived with us. I knew nothing about taking care of myself or supporting myself and my family. I sold my jewelry and almost all the personal property just to help us survive. I was very depressed, I even thought about committing suicide. I had a good friend who talked with me about Christ and urged me to go to church with her. I refused many times, but finally agreed to go. At the service they performed a skit about the prodigal son. God opened my eyes and let me know that He loved me. I was sobbing the entire time. My friend gave me a Bible and I read it all the way from Genesis to Revelation. For about a month my friend worked with me and answered my questions. Alone one night I cried out, "Christ, if you are real, show yourself to me!" First I saw His eyes looking into my soul and He said, "I understand you; I truly understand you." No one had ever understood me before. For the first time I felt valued. He showed me His hands with the nail marks.

My friend said that I should study with her pastor who could help me to learn and understand more. So for ten weeks he worked with me every Wednesday and Friday, answering all my questions. He told me that Christ was with us all the time. I had only to ask and He would show me His will for me. I still did not understand how He could have died for me - nobody would die for ME!