Encounters with Grace in Taiwan: When God Surprises

It's Sunday, I'm a Christian, and usually I go to church. But today I decided to stay at home, sit on my couch, and eat dark chocolate instead. I don't see this as a better alternative, because I love the church, but for this day it was what I decided to do.
And while I've been sitting here I've been having flashes, of times and places in my life where God has shone through in truly extraordinary ways. And as a person who believes that God is readily available to each and every one of us at any moment, this should be the case. God is extraordinary so His ways must be also. I am moved to document the grace that has been shown to me.
Taiwan: Teaching English: Love the kids: Hate lesson planning so I wing it every day in class by telling stories: 23 years old: Living in a big congested city: Having fun with all my girlfriends but homesick and confused and on an emotional roller coaster:
My boyfriend at the time flies across the world to ask if I'll marry him. I say yes. He has 5 days to spend in Taiwan. I put him on the back of my scooter and try to show off- driving haphazardly and paying attention to very little. I haven't learned what the road signs mean and I don't really care. I'm unlicensed and a bit too cocky. We get hit by a car and it is entirely my fault. After slamming into the car's windshield I fly through the air and my body smacks in to the asphalt. His does too. Very intense surges of adrenaline are releasing and it numbs my pain. I worry about our engagement when the first thing I think is NOT "i hope he's alive" but... "how am I going to get back to Africa if I'm in a wheelchair?" An ambulance rushes us to hospital. We are both relatively OK. A few days later he leaves and I get an unexpected phone local from a Taiwanese woman.
"Hello, is this the girl who was hit last week?"
"Yes. It is."
"Oh okay. We are very sorry about that! Are you okay now?"
"I'm fine, thanks. Who is this?"
"I am calling on behalf of Mrs. Yin. I am her interpreter. She doesn't speak English. Mrs. Yin is the woman who hit you."
"Ohhhh." I covered the phone and mouthed to my girlfriend 'it's-the-lady-who-hit-me!' and she cringes. Accidents with foreigners in Taiwan are far too common. At each potluck, or party, or gathering, there was always somebody wrapped up in some cast showing off their road rash. Everyone knew it was not a matter of if, but when. And tales had been told of accidents gone bad, both physically and financially. Some ex-pats advise to play the dumb foreigner card and hang up when they try to contact you. They would never find you in the sea of city life, and to them all white people look the same.
I went to Taiwan for a few reasons, and one was to make money. But somehow that was not happening. I had $5 in my bank account. But I didn't hang up.
"Yes, Mrs. Yin would like to meet with you, regarding the accident."
"Okay." I responded.
"When is a good time for you?"
I was unprepared and being lured in to uncomfortable territory.
I offered up an answer while looking at my girlfriend. "Nights?"
"We will come and meet you because I can assume that you are not driving your scooter right now."
"Correct."
"Are you able to walk?"
"Yes."
"Okay. The police report said you live close to Wuchuan. There is a restaurant across the street. Would you like to meet outside of the restaurant tomorrow at 7?"
"Sure."
"Then we will be there at 7. It will be me, Mrs. Yin, and a lawyer. See you then. Goodbye."
When I heard the dial tone my stomach twisted. The conversation was like a hammer pounding in my recent feelings of complete lack of control and anxiety, about everything in my life. I looked at my girlfriend and she offered up two words of advice. "Don't go."
I opened the front door of the 8th floor apartment and walked the staircase to the roof of the building. I looked out over the city. I looked up at the stars. I thought about my $5.
"Don't go." The words echoed, but they didn't resonate.
I stared back out over the city. There is something incredibly calming about rooftops. Calming, and also lonely. I didn't like the lonely part, so i prayed "God. Help. I don't know what to do."
and I waited. and then i prayed some more.
the city faded away and a simple awareness abounded, it said;
it is all going to be just fine, just do your job.
at that point my job was very clear. i needed to show up at 7 the next night, and i needed to take responsibility.

I was on the bench, outside the restaurant, waiting nervously like i was on a blind date. I stared expectantly at each group of passerby's, and waited for some mutual hint of recognition. i sat, then i stood, trying to look friendly and composed. if at that moment i had a magic power i would have used it to be back at home- in California- far away from where i was and far away from how i was feeling. i was awaiting my fate amidst the interrogative glow of Asian street life.
and then, i saw them. Mrs. Yin and the interpreter, clinking down the pavement with shiny hair, lips, and purses. Even their pants glowed with wealth. They were polished women on a mission, and they were aiming for me. I suddenly became aware of my messy hair and ripped up jeans.
I walked up to them and extended my hand. They nodded and smiled and shook it, but Mrs. Yin held an expression of reservation that reminded me of our purpose.
A beefy man in a business suit walked out from inside of the restaurant and came straight over to us. He had a briefcase and slicked hair and motioned for us to all sit down on the bench and so that is what we did.
The interpreter stood up and began to talk. "The reason we are here tonight is to discuss the accident. I am here to listen and to help you two come to an agreement for compensation. If there is anything you need to say please feel free to say it and I will tell Mrs. Yin, and she will do the same."
"Okay."
There was a smattering of words, between the lawyer, the interpreter, and Mrs. Yin, and they passed a clipboard back and forth between each other pointing at numbers and phrases. The caricatures meant nothing to me so I waited until the clipboard eventually made it into my lap.
The interpreter pointed to the number circled. "This here is the cost of repairs from the damage you caused her car."
The figure meant nothing to me. It wasn't in dollars and I had yet to convert that high of a sum in any encounter since I had entered the country. I had no emotional response, just a perplexed expression and the memory that it was a Mercedes-Benz that hit me.
"In Taiwan, when a person causes an accident it is up to them to take care of the costs incurred by the accident."
I nodded.
"And do you agree that the accident was your fault?"
Take responsibility. "Yes, I agree."
"Okay, then do you agree that you will pay for this? What we have listed here is the list of the repairs she had to have done to her bumper, her hood, and her windshield."
"Yes. I agree."
The lawyer handed over a document.
"Can you please sign this?"
"I can't read what it says. And if we can just step back a moment and if you can tell me how much money this is that I owe... in dollars..."
The group was having difficulty in the conversion, as we rustled through our bags and pulled out calculators and cell phones and scribbled mathematical equations on backs of papers. After a few minutes, when we all reached the same amount, the reality of the situation began to settle in heavy. My poverty, my stupidity, this massive amount of money that felt like a big noose around my neck and an anchor tied to my ankles. It was over $4,000. I had $5, and she needed a lot more than that.
I crumpled under the demand. Until this point I was holding it all together. My stress was contained, making continuous restricted u-turns inside my head, inside my abdomen, through my limbs. But the impossibility of what this $4,000 meant unraveled me and I began to cry. The emotion escaped out of me in a giant exhale, but the inhale was a sob as well. I stood up and walked away as expressing emotion is considered a sign of weakness, and the extent of my tears in public was a social disgrace upon all of us. Not only had I caused all of us to grovel in these unpleasentries but i was bringing us into another level of humiliation by my inability to stop crying.
The harder I tried to pull myself together, the more I plunged into a well of despair. I was planning on leaving Taiwan, returning home to resume the life that was waiting for me. But I made an agreement to hold up my end and i wanted them to know that.
The interpreter walked over to me and put her hand on my shoulder, then ushered me over to a pathway which wound itself through a small intercity park. She reached up and rubbed my back with her tiny hand. She suggested we take a little walk. Mrs. Yin would wait.
By this point, I was snotty and full of post-crying hiccups. She tried to entice me in to small-talk, about how I like Taiwan and how she had spent some time in Los Angeles. She asked me how my boyfriend was and how he was liking Taiwan. I broke down again and told her he was back at home, waiting for me.
"You mean he doesn't live here?"
I shook my head No.
"Oh." She said, wondering.
"I'm trying to go home, as soon as possible." and then I launched in to my drama, which was propelled by a true desire to pay back the money. "I want to let you know, that I will pay back the debt I owe to Mrs. Yin." With five measly dollars, it seemed insurmountable. "But i have to be honest. I don't have much. Right now."
"Well I am sure something can be worked out. Maybe you can pay half of it now and half of it later?"
She really didn't understand.
"When I say I don't have much, I mean, I have very little to give back right now." I could feel my lip quivering and her hand went back on my shoulder.
"I know, these accidents. They can be expensive. I got in one last month and I owe A LOT of money."
I saw her lament on her unfortunate situation and forget me for a moment.
"I will give her every last penny, but as of today, I am going to have to get some money to do that." I started to scramble for ideas of how to pay back this debt. "I can sell my scooter. That is $600. And I'll be getting some paychecks soon, I can give that to her. But this is going to take awhile."
She listened as I became more and more pathetic with each step we took. She realized that I had truly NOTHING to give and I was scrambling to dig up something of value to offer back. "Lets go back and you can work something out with Mrs. Yin."
I didn't make eye contact with anyone as the interpreter explained my current situation. I could smell Mrs. Yin's perfume wafting through the cool breeze, past my hot sweaty face and my sticky body. I felt slovenly, also big and exposed and unable to hide, like a grotesque wart. I wanted so badly to NOT feel this way, to be able to give back something, anything.
She mmmm'ed while the interpreter and the lawyer talked. She held a quiet power.
I was adding up how many months worth of work it would take to get her the money but my thoughts were interrupted by silence.
The interpreter waited for me to look up and began. "Having an accident is very common and very costly here which is why people must be very careful when they drive scooter. Like I told you, I had an accident which has cost me a lot, and my friends have all had accidents and they weren't so lucky either. I have never heard of a situation ending like this, but Mrs. Yin would like me to tell you that you owe her nothing."
I was dumbfounded, then ashamed, then painfully aware of how unworthy I felt. I didn't have a response, because I was taken completely off-guard. I wanted to pay her back. I couldn't understand this gift. This woman didn't know me. I had caused considerable damage to her very functional and good-looking expensive car. I had taken time out of her life, made her hire an interpreter and a lawyer, and embarrassed her in public with my melt-down.
"Nothing?"
"Nothing. She says your debt is erased."

I went home that night and ascended the stairs back to the rooftop, where I spent more time in prayer and a lot of time crying. Only this time, my burden had lifted and had been replaced with gratitude. Gratitude floated me up to the spot where just a day earlier dread had kept me bound.
I have never connected to the reality of God's grace as I did that night; of his free abounding love, of his desire for us to seek him first so he can lead us in his way, of his deep empathy and forgiveness. I have never known what it feels like, experientially, to have your debt erased. This was money and it affected me profoundly. Some of us live our entire lives, amidst God but with our back turned towards Him and our eyes and minds focused on titillating fruitless endeavors, like trying to wade through this mess on our own. When God says that he can free us from sin, this is what he means. He can free us from the times when we get ourselves stuck. He can free us from the life that we have stuck ourselves in. He is a practical God, a God who delivers, a God who turns rocks of despair into seeds of life.

We must show up and do our part. Our part, is believing God will show up. It is having faith. We must have faith. God will work wonders with the impossibilities that lie before you.