In hardly what I can call my story, I like to start in the 1860’s where a man by the name of Hudson Taylor crossed over from England to China with the desire to share the Gospel with the country with the largest population in the world of 500,000,000 people. With his previous medical work in China, he was driven by the following mantra: “1,000,000 Chinese perish without knowing Christ every month.” Driven by sheer desire to preach the Gospel, he did what no other Western Protestant missionary ever did: he went inland—beyond the Western Supply lines of the coast—beyond established means communication with the West. He unknowingly started what was called the second wave of modern missions. In this incursion far from familiarity, he would have come across some of my ancestors from the time and shared the Gospel. It was from that when the legacy of faith started in my family and has continued for over 150 years.
To keep this story from being unnecessarily long, let’s fast forward a century (and change) to 1985 where one Kevin Tsui was born to Jonah and Joy Tsui on a hot summer day in Seattle Washington. My parents are Chinese immigrants who lost their connection to mainland China mostly because their parents had to flee due to religious and political persecution or were displaced because of Japanese occupation during the War. They met as college students and got married at the church that I was raised in just north of downtown. I grew up in a stable home of well-to-do parents who were thriving in the 90’s boom preceding the burst of the dot com bubble, an only child who had no clue of the legacy of faith that had come before me.
By the time I was five years old, I roughly recall being presented the Gospel message that was a child’s version of Pascal’s wager: the puffy white clouds of heaven or the fires of hell. What’s a Child to choose? I would, as any sane child, choose Jesus Christ as my Lord and Hellfire Insurance policy. Understanding that we are saved by faith, I put my faith in Jesus only because the alternative seemed quite unpleasant. I would continue to attend the church surround by a body of believers. Those years were instrumental as I was poured into by others in the community and raised in the ways of Christianity. And Jesus? Did he have much impact on my life in a way where I was interacting with Him? Unfortunately no, not yet.
By the time I was 12 years old, I was finally old enough to go and join the rest of my friends on an urban missions trip to the inner-city of Seattle. For those of you tracking, this was an entire 25 minute car ride from my family home in the Seattle suburbs. Prior to the trip, we had a handful of preparation sessions which included how to share the Gospel message. The tool I best remembered used was what is known as the “Wordless book” whereby 5 (sometimes 6) colors signify key turns of the Gospel message. These can be actual booklets, however by the 90’s these were made into bracelets and other kids craft “jewelry.” Here’s the quick breakdown: Yellow (Gold): signifying God’s good creation and the world without sin. Black: signifying sin and how sin broke our relationship with God. Red: signifying the blood of Christ that leads to the next color. White: signifying how Jesus’ blood makes us clean and we can have our relationship with God restored. And Finally Green: signifying how we, as plants do, must continually grow in our discipleship with Christ. Armed with this device and memorization of bible verses like Romans 3:23 and 6:23 and John 3:16, we were ready to encounter a community in Seattle to share. It was essentially a series of kids ministry events throughout a week in the Summer. Each event had different music, skits, and lessons taught. As always with kids ministry, there was a craft involved. On the night of “Wordless Book” bracelets, I sat with 10 year old child and asked if he wanted to know about the significance of the story behind the colors. When he said “yes” I was suddenly overcome with a case of performance anxiety and all of my training went out the window. By God’s grace, one of the chaperones of the trip was in my line of sight just a few feet behind the boy I was talking to and he mouthed to me the Gospel message I was trained to give and I was able to follow his lead. After hearing the message this boy made a momentous decision: he chose to follow Jesus; he wanted to be saved. At that moment he welled with tears and emotion that drove me to the same tears and emotion. Jesus did an amazing work in that moment and I’d spent the prior 7 years disregarding Him as mere Hellfire insurance; well no more. At that moment, I was convinced that I wanted to live my life for Jesus and a few weeks later at our Summer youth camp, I recommitted my life to Jesus and never looked back.
So many more little stories can be mentioned throughout the years from the Holy Spirit calling me to ministry at age 18 or how just two years later, almost walking away from my faith as I learned about secular philosophy, other religions or while earning my major in a science that wanted to root out any bit of its Creator. Who kept me going? Through it all I can see the Holy Spirit guiding me despite trial, fear, and doubt. I joined up with YWAM in the Fall of 2007 armed with the idealism only a young man in his 20’s can possess. Believing I had all of the answers this established multinational missions needed, I started the journey of learning the greatest lesson of my adult life: I must know that, no matter how much I learn, I can only realize how much I truly don’t understand. In that, I must always submit my ego, intellect and individuality to Jesus and do as he asked his disciples: follow Him.
Now as I approach 40 with just shy of two decades of ministry experience, married to a wonderful wife and father of three beautiful children, I feel that God’s story in this life is only just-forming. Where’s he going to take me? Not sure, but I do know that He’s good and He’ll guide me as he always has. And in the same vein as the opening of this story, truly it doesn’t begin and end with me; my children are still young and my marriage to Lilia only a decade—there’s much life to live and it’ll be a story of all of us with Jesus.
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