I remember when I first visited Australia. The moment I landed at Darwin Airport, my friends and I couldn’t stop saying, “Wow.” What were we amazed at? The blue sky—something we could hardly see in Hong Kong, where the only view above consisted of a grey sky and high-rise buildings.
I was also astonished by how “slow” the Australian lifestyle was. People even had time to hold the door open for strangers coming from a distance! That was incredible—something unimaginable in Hong Kong. If you did that there, people might think you were either crazy or expecting something in return. In Hong Kong, everyone is always rushing; time is money. It’s impossible to stand still in the city centre during rush hour, as the busy crowds constantly push you forward.
Looking back now, I see that Australia is a holy place that has drawn me closer to God. Why? In Hong Kong, skyscrapers, material possessions, and technology dominate—everything is created and controlled by man. These distractions prevent us from witnessing the beauty of God’s creation and His power. The relentless pace of life, whether for work or study, keeps us in a perpetual state of adrenaline-fueled activity, leaving us little time to be still and reflect on our relationship with God.
Growing up in Hong Kong, my entire extended family worship Chinese gods. At my parents’ home, we have an altar dedicated to the earth god and our ancestors. My father, a refugee from China, had a Christian friend who helped him escape and settle in Hong Kong. Out of gratitude, he followed his friend’s advice and sent us to a Christian primary school, believing it to be a good school. However, my parents made it clear that while we could receive an education there, we were not to believe in the Christian God—He was meant for Westerners only.
As a child, I was confused. When I filled out the school form asking for my religion, my mother instructed me to write “Christian,” which led me to believe that was my identity. Later, however, she told me that we could not be Christians, as it would offend the Chinese gods who were protecting us.
Once, when I misbehaved, my mother made me kneel before the altar and repent. I found the altar boring, so I recited the Lord’s Prayer, which I had learned at school, quietly.
On another occasion, I asked her why she couldn’t believe in Jesus while she was worshiping the Chinese god. She became very angry. That same afternoon, she fell from a great height and was quite seriously injured, blaming me for offending her god. I felt terrible. From that moment on, whenever I wanted to read the Bible, I asked my brother to hide with me in a secret chamber—a false ceiling. I cherished those quiet and sacred moments.
As a young adult, my life became very busy and filled with excitement. Most of the time, I forgot about God. At times, I even doubted His existence. When I prayed, it felt as if I were speaking into empty air. I forgot that in moments when I felt I couldn’t achieve anything, I had once turned to Him for help. Eventually, I attained everything I had asked for—I was admitted to good universities and landed my dream jobs. But instead of recognizing His hand in my success, I attributed it to sheer luck or my own hard work.
The wake-up call came 17 years ago when my ex-husband decided to move back to Australia—from Hong Kong to Port Augusta—after securing a job as a lawyer. Leaving behind my dream job, giving away an entire house full of furniture, and, most significantly, stepping out of my comfort zone was painful. Port Augusta was a stark contrast to Hong Kong: from crowds everywhere to vast, barren landscapes, from a fast-paced lifestyle to an extraordinarily laid-back one. When we first moved there, I knew no one apart from my family. We had no internet at home, as I was told that it was unnecessary.
My mobile phone had no internet access, and I couldn’t make long-distance calls. I couldn’t drive and had no idea where to find the bus stops, as they lacked signs and the schedule was infrequent. I didn’t have any income as I stayed home to care for my one-year-old son. I felt utterly isolated. My son was my only companion throughout the day. My ex-husband typically returned home at 11 p.m., and our entire conversation consisted of, “How was your day?” “Not too bad.” That was it.
Two to three times a week, I would take my son to playgroup, pushing his pushchair as I walked 30 minutes under the scorching sun—where summer temperatures could soar up to 48 degrees —on rocky, sandy paths, as there were no sealed roads. I was too shy and exhausted to socialize, though occasionally, kind mothers or staff members spoke to me. I fell ill frequently that first year due to lack of sleep and poor nutrition. Even when I was sick, I had no one to help care for my son. I still had to chase him around for a bath while battling fever and a pounding headache.
One night, after a difficult time with my ex-husband, I felt heartbroken. I desperately wanted to call my friends or family in Hong Kong, but without internet access or long-distance calling, I couldn’t. Then suddenly, it struck me: “Wait—there is someone I can talk to anytime, anywhere!” I began praying to God, and instantly, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and comfort. I was relieved to realize that although I had abandoned Him for years, He had never abandoned me.
From that moment on, He sent many Christians into my life to support me. One day at the Toy Library, an elderly volunteer approached me and said she often saw me walking everywhere with my son in his pushchair. She showed me where to find community resources, such as bus services, and even offered to help care for my son. Initially, I was sceptical—why was she being so kind? Did she expect something in return? I decided to find out more about her. Later, she mentioned she needed to go to church, and I realized she was a Christian. The more I got to know her, the more I was moved by her love in action. She quietly helped others without expecting anything in return. Because she had experienced God’s love and support in her own time of need, she felt called to give back to others.
Another time, when I was queuing to apply for my son’s swimming lessons, a mother invited me to her home church. That church became a strong support for me. I was baptized and had been praying for years for a happy and harmonious family, hoping that God would restore my marriage. However, things turned out the opposite way. I couldn’t understand why, but I trusted that God had a greater plan beyond my understanding. As Proverbs 3:5-6 says: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.”
Things continued to get worse, and I felt as though I was in the middle of a dark tunnel with no end in sight. One day, while praying, I had a vision of myself drowning in the sea, my hand stretched out in desperation for help. That image stayed with me, and I noticed that my hand was reaching out with the palm facing downward, a gesture of giving (whereas an upward-facing palm symbolizes receiving). This vision inspired me: the best way to help myself was by helping others.
After this vision, I started encountering more Chinese migrants in need of help. One day, a new migrant even knocked on my door after someone had given her my address, telling her I could assist because I spoke her language. Then, I received an unexpected call from the South Australian Multicultural Commission office. They informed me that the chairman wanted me to join the committee to help migrants in my region. I had no idea why they chose me or how they found my contact details. I hesitated, wondering what difference I could make on my own. However, with the encouragement and manpower support from my home church and the funding from the Multicultural Commission, we organized free English classes and a Monthly Multicultural Meeting which families gathered once a month, each bringing a cultural dish to share.
To my surprise, our first gathering attracted a lot of people from different cultures and even local media. Among the attendees was a couple I had often seen at the supermarket. I had tried to reach out to them with a smile each time we crossed paths, but they always looked away, never responding. I initially thought they were unfriendly. However, when they attended the gathering and realized I could speak their language, they eagerly began talking to me. Over time, they became my good friends.
The more I got to know them, the more I discovered how kind, passionate, and talented they were. Most of the migrants have remarkable skills & had worked as professionals in their home countries, but due to language barriers and cultural differences, they lack the confidence to engage with the local community. Some locals misinterpreted their silence or lack of response as rudeness or inability. To help them connect and feel empowered, we invited them to do cooking demonstrations featuring their favourite traditional dishes, which ended up with great recognition.
Food, being the ultimate universal language, bridged the gap between us. As we shared techniques about cooking & their yummy dishes, we found that language was no longer a barrier. Some of the mothers were so excited about these gatherings that they eagerly anticipated the next one, continuously thinking about what to cook next. Beyond cooking, we also welcomed individuals with different talents to share their skills. Some led classes in activities such as dancing or Pilates, enriching our gatherings with opportunities for learning, bonding, and personal growth.
Since moving to Port Augusta, my sense of self-worth had been crushed, but I found my value and purpose again through Christ and by helping others. Though I wasn’t allowed to voice my personal struggles, I realized I could be a voice for those who were weak or unable to speak the language. Through these gatherings, I gained many friendships and never expected anything in return, yet these very friends later gave me lots of support when I became a single mum.
When I needed to move out with my young son, I felt vulnerable. I struggled with an identity crisis—where was my home? My family and most of my friends were in Hong Kong, but my son couldn’t speak much Chinese, and his Maths level was far behind the Hong Kong syllabus. Having grown up in Australia, where curiosity and exploration are encouraged, he was often labelled by Hong Kong people as naughty and hyperactive. Being a single mother in Hong Kong would have brought shame to my parents, so I couldn’t tell them about my separation. However, to stay in Australia, I needed a job to afford a place to live and pay the bills.
I remember clearly that on my way to Woolworths, I prayed: “God, please show me where to go. If it is Your plan for us to stay in Port Augusta, please help me find a job.” While in the supermarket, a lady approached me excitedly. She was one of the interviewers for a job I had applied for weeks earlier. Since I had not heard back, I assumed I had been rejected. To my surprise, she told me they were desperate to hire me but had been waiting for one of my referees to return from leave to finalize the paperwork. That job was a permanent full-time position—it completely changed my life. Finally, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.
With a limited budget, we searched for an affordable rental. I worried that my son would be upset about the changes. I told him we would have a new adventure by moving out. When we looked at the house, I was surprised that he was excitedly planning where to build a treehouse and dig a mud pool. His optimism amazed me—he truly is my happy angel. I thought God had fulfilled my prayer for a happy and harmonious family, but I later realized this was only part of His answer.
Life in Port Augusta became peaceful, filled with friends and church support. However, for my son’s better education, I considered moving to Adelaide. It felt like an impossible mission, as I had a deep fear of driving in busy traffic. Each time I drove to Adelaide for job interviews, I lost sleep the night before due to anxiety. The housing prices in Glenunga also seemed out of reach. I asked God for guidance, trusting that if it was His plan, He would provide. By His mercy, I secured a job in Adelaide that I love and found an affordable unit that suited our needs.
I believed I would remain single for the rest of my life—who would be interested in an “old biscuit” with a young son? But despite the odds, I still prayed for a Christian husband so we could work as a pair to serve God. Then I met Phil at church. When he showed interest in me, I felt God was being generous. I was drawn to his deep devotion to God and how faith had transformed him. He helped me understand the Bible better and strengthened my spiritual growth. Having never lived with a Christian before, I now witness what a 24/7 Christian life looks like. Though imperfect, he strives to live by the Bible’s teachings. I had prayed for a happy and harmonious family for eight years, and God answered—but in a way I never expected.
Finally, I share the words of Ralph Abernathy: “I don’t know what the future may hold, but I know who holds the future.” I deeply understand the uncertainty migrants feel, but when we trust in the all-powerful God who created this universe, we know we are safe in His hands. He loves us dearly. All we need is to accept Him, submit to Him, and trust that He walks with us, sharing our burdens. He will not let us suffer more than we can bear. If life is a scary ride, He is our safety bar. What do we gain by letting Him go during our most vulnerable moments? For those still contemplating whether to come to Jesus, you have nothing to lose. Why not try trusting Him and experiencing His peace? For Christians going through tough times, hold onto your faith and do not lean on your own understanding. He has a better plan for us; we just need to be patient. Many times, I faced challenges that seemed impossible to overcome, but when I let God orchestrate, I was amazed by the miraculous outcomes. Remember, it is through our struggles that we draw closer to God. These experiences allow us to empathize with others on similar paths so that we can be a blessing to them in the future.
