One morning in early April 2025, I am sitting on our back deck, holding a cup of coffee and enjoying the quiet stillness of the day. The air is crisp, and the warmth of the cup settles into my hands. Along the edge of the yard, tightly closed tulip buds push through the damp soil, standing bravely against the lingering grey of winter – like a baby stretching out a tiny hand to reach for the world after a good night’s sleep.

Spring is here!

As I watch this quiet miracle unfold, the melody of the Doxology – Hymn 8 in the Book of Praise – drifts into my mind. How beautiful! God is the source of every blessing. All that lives and grows on earth shall praise the Lord, the great Creator.

As I hum, my thoughts turn to the Chinese translation of the hymn. And speaking of translation, I realize I have work to do. I have been invited to speak at my local Christian school’s assembly about my career as a translator, particularly my work translating Reformed books and sermons, and about the journey that brought me to this point.

My memories begin to surface, one after another, as if scrolling back through Google Photos all the way to the 1990s. Time truly does fly. It has been twenty years since I began translating.

“The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” – Prov. 16:9

My translation journey begins in the early 1990s, during a period when China is experiencing rapid growth in foreign trade following its opening-to-the-world policy.

As a university English teacher, I am often assigned to interpret for foreign investors and at government-hosted events. These experiences bring me into contact with people from across the English-speaking world and expand my perspective far beyond the boundaries of Chinese culture. What captivates me most is not the act of translation itself, but the people – their stories, their backgrounds, and the ways they think.

Around that time, I meet several American couples on campus who happen to live in the same neighborhood as we do. We become friends, and they invite me to join their weekly Bible study. Wanting to better understand Western culture for my teaching, and enjoying learning from people of different backgrounds, I gladly accept their invitation.

Later, I learn that they have been sent by Campus Crusade (now called Power to Change) and are serving university students and young professors in China while living there as international students.

For years, I question Christianity, challenge their beliefs, and debate with them. Yet even in my resistance, I begin searching for answers to life’s deepest questions. Slowly, as I stand in awe of God, my pride is humbled, and a deep hunger for His Word takes root in my heart.

“…for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” – Phil. 2:13

Our Bible study group grows as more Chinese friends join us. Because our home is large enough to welcome a bigger group – and with my husband’s permission, though he is not yet a believer – we open our home to host the gatherings. Many of the participants are English teachers like me.

God blesses us in ways we do not expect. As the Bible study meets in our home, my husband also begins to hear the gospel. At first, he overhears only fragments from his home office upstairs. Later, he moves downstairs and sits quietly on the edge of the group. Over time, he becomes more engaged and eventually joins us fully.

He asks questions, debates ideas, and explores the Scriptures – often approaching them through the lenses he loves most: art and human history. Through listening, thinking, and seeking, he comes to accept Jesus as his Saviour.

“…they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” – Matt. 9:36

In 2004, we make a short landing in Canada as new immigrants. British Columbia’s breathtaking scenery immediately captivates us. Yet leaving behind our family, our friends, and our promising careers is deeply difficult.

Around the same time, our American friends prepare to relocate to other countries. Our Bible study group is left without leadership and without a connection to a church.

Feeling uncertain but determined, we press on – much like the Chinese saying, “a newborn calf is not afraid of a tiger,” meaning that beginners often act with fearless simplicity. We search online for materials and take turns leading Bible studies. At first, this seems to solve the problem. But pulling resources from many different sources soon leads to confusion. Questions multiply, disagreements arise, and discussions turn into heated debates. While reading Matthew 11:12, a difference between the English and Chinese translations sparks a debate over human effort versus God’s sovereignty, and the discussion ends in tears.

As similar conflicts repeat, we become spiritually weary and cry out to God for clarity – and it is then that the Reformed faith enters our lives.

“When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them…” – Matt. 9:36

Shortly after we return from a visit to Canada, Rev. F. Vandongen (a pseudonym used for security reasons) embarks on a mission trip to China, delivering his lecture on TULIP – the Five Points of Calvinism. Somehow, he learns about our small fellowship and reaches out to ask if we would help translate sermons for his mission work.

We answer immediately and wholeheartedly – yes – and roll up our sleeves to begin. As we translate, clarity grows. What once felt fragmented now comes together like a puzzle, each piece fitting into place. We are like gold miners uncovering hidden treasure, awestruck by the depth and beauty of God’s truth.

God is merciful. He hears even our unspoken prayers and shines His light on us as we grow through struggle.

As we begin studying the Heidelberg Catechism, clarity replaces confusion. We often hear people say, “That makes sense,” or, “If we had known this earlier, we wouldn’t have argued at all.” Others share their relief: fears of weak faith, of rejection, even nightmares about judgment, begin to fade.

“Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them…” – Rom. 12:6

From that point on, I spend countless hours – day after day, year after year – sitting at my computer translating Reformed, faith-based books and sermons. For two decades, the same core truths fill my work: our sin, God’s mercy, and Christ’s saving work on the cross.

To others, my work may appear repetitive. To me, it is life-giving. These messages nourish my soul and richly bless our family.

Not long ago, I overheard our two sons say, “Mom’s job is pretty solid.” Those words warm my heart – not only as appreciation, but as testimony to God’s faithful care for our family.

And beyond our home, countless Chinese-speaking families around the world are blessed through translation work connected to Asia Mission and supported by local churches.

When the Chinese translation of the Book of Praise is finally completed and printed, I can hardly contain my joy. I share the news on Facebook, and the response is overwhelming: congratulations from believers across the globe, from China to Singapore, New Zealand, Australia, Russia, and Japan.

The Book of Praise is only one of many completed projects. Others include I Belong, The Overflowing Riches of God’s Mercy, Lest Anyone Should Boast, The Covenant of Love, The Elder and the Deacon, Unseen Footprints, and Christ’s Psalms, Our Psalms, as well as many more.

“To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.” – 1 Pet. 4:11

I claim no credit of my own. Translation is never a solo effort – it is always a team endeavor. I am simply grateful to have been part of it.

Before I close, I invite you to pause, look at God’s creation, and sing Hymn 8. Perhaps you might even try the Chinese version. I have asked AI to render the pronunciation so it can be sung aloud. And if that feels daunting, simply hum along until “Amen.” After all, Amen is beautifully universal.

Dzan may juhn shun wan foo Dzer ywen
Dee shahng wan yo doe dahng soong dzan
Tien sher tien joon dahng dzan joo meeng
Dzan may shuhng foo, shuhng dzer, shuhng leeng
Amen!