(2025/8/9, SPWT in Taiwan)
“Now this is our boast: Our conscience testifies that we have conducted ourselves in the world, and especially in our relations with you, with integrity and godly sincerity. We have done so, relying not on worldly wisdom but on God’s grace.”— 2 Corinthians 1:12
When I was a resident, I once attended a fellowship meeting where Dr. Chen Chih-Cheng shared his experience. During his pediatric residency, he often wore a large, visible cross around his neck. It reminded both himself and others that he was a Christian, and it challenged him to live in a way that honored the Lord’s name.
At that time, I was still struggling through the demanding life of surgical training—long hours, sleepless nights, endless pressure. I dared not make my faith too visible. I feared that if I made mistakes, it might bring dishonor to God, or even add pressure to my attending physicians.
Still, in casual conversations, I would sometimes mention my faith. Gradually, my colleagues came to know that I was a Christian. I prayed that God would help me not to lose my direction, and not to make choices without love or justice. Toward patients, however, I remained cautious. I didn’t reveal my faith openly or try to build close relationships, since my rotations were short—usually just a month or two. Unless the Holy Spirit clearly moved me to care for someone, I hesitated to act on my own enthusiasm, afraid that I might cause harm after leaving.
In March last year, I attended my first Saline Process training. This course equips Christian healthcare workers to share their faith appropriately in today’s medical environment. It teaches how to approach patients with sensitivity according to their spiritual openness—so that good intentions do not accidentally push people away from Christ.
One of the tools introduced was called a Faith Flag. It’s a short, natural statement—within 30 seconds—that connects personal experience to faith, letting others know we belong to God. For example:
“I once went through a very dark time in life and even thought of ending it. Without God, I wouldn’t be here today.”
Just one or two sentences—no pressure. If the listener responds with interest, you can follow up with a longer Faith Story.
During that training, I recalled Dr. Chen’s testimony. His cross necklace itself was like a Faith Flag—a silent yet visible sign that he belonged to God. In Taiwan’s high-pressure healthcare system, we have very limited time with each patient. I may not always have the chance to bring faith into conversation, but a simple cross might gently invite curiosity, allowing a meaningful faith dialogue without offense.
So this August, after becoming an attending physician, I went to the church bookstore and bought a simple wooden cross necklace. Since then, I’ve worn it daily during ward rounds and clinic hours.
At the end of October, as one of my patients was about to be discharged, her family member stopped me at the door and asked, “Doctor, are you also from a church?”
We began to talk, and I learned that the patient’s daughter and son-in-law both serve actively in their local congregation and often travel abroad for mission work. That conversation opened the door for me to ask if I could pray for the patient’s ongoing treatment and for her family.
Thanks be to God—He softened their hearts, giving me the chance to sow a few seeds of the gospel. I pray that He will continue to lead this patient and her family, until the day we all share in the heavenly feast together.
(Tools from the SPWT: prayer, faith flags)
David Chen 2025/10/30 (translation assisted by ChatGPT)
