Repost: A Providential Story

I posted this two years ago in honor of Memorial Day:

When my dad was a boy, his family immigrated from southern China to the Philippines. My grandfather was led to preach the gospel and plant a church in the Manila/Quezon City area on Luzon Island. World War II broke out, and the Philippines was ultimately invaded by the Japanese.

An airstrip was hidden near their house, and my dad and his younger siblings would watch the planes take off in the morning. They could gauge the state of the war by how many took off and how many returned. It was a difficult and dangerous time.

Meanwhile a top Chinese nationalist spy had been sent to the Philippines to gather information for the Allies. The Japanese knew he was there, so he was a hunted man in daily fear of capture and death. Somehow he knew about my grandfather. (But being a spy, he would know these things.) This man was not a Christian, but whenever he could, he would sneak into my grandparent's home and ask my grandpa to pray for him. Each time he came, my grandpa would tell him the gospel even though this contact put him and his family at risk.

Through his espionage efforts, this spy gathered critical information on the Japanese fleet. As his equipment could not reach the Nationalists, he radioed someone else: the American forces stationed in Australia headed by General Douglas MacArthur. I am no historian and wouldn't want to make a direct correlation, but interestingly the U.S. and Australian forces returned to the Philippines and fought the Japanese in the Battle of Leyte Gulf from which the Imperial Navy never recovered.

And the spy? Although he was not a Christian at the start of the war, he was saved by the end.

As the first 1st-generation American on both sides of my family, I'm thankful for the men and women of the armed forces who have given their lives for the cause of freedom. I am particularly grateful for those who served in the Pacific theatre of World War II. In addition to my dad being under Japanese occupation in the Philippines, my mom lived in Shanghai which suffered greatly during the war. Thus my parents were direct recipients of that service, and in one sense, so am I.

Above all, I thank God for His mercy and His providential hand. The little I know of His providence is amazing.