In the rapid modernization of 2025, where high-speed Internet and consumerism define daily life, Pastor Tianming and his wife seem to inhabit a different era.
They meet visitors in their home, which doubles as Tianming's office, simply because he has never had one. After nearly 50 years of full-time ministry, his monthly salary stands at just 900 RMB (approx. $125 USD). This figure, meager as it is, is the result of a recent raise; for years prior, he sustained his family on only 600 RMB.
For this couple, living in the 21st century feels remarkably like a struggle from the early 20th century. Yet, amidst the poverty, their life radiates a profound, quiet dignity.
The "Insect Zoo": 18 Years in Darkness
For nearly two decades, Pastor Tianming's family of four squeezed into a single room within a structure that was historic only in its dilapidation. It was not a heritage site, but a crumbling, century-old house.
The room was so cramped that two beds left virtually no floor space. It was perpetually dark and dangerously damp—a perfect breeding ground for what the family jokingly called their "Insect Zoo."
Tianming's wife, referred to affectionately as Shimu (a traditional title for a pastor's wife in China), was usually the first to rise. One morning, checking on her sleeping children, she noticed movement beneath one of them. Lifting the child, she found two "straw shoe bottoms" (large house centipedes) wriggling on the sheet. Over the years, the family shared their beds with centipedes, millipedes, crickets, and woodlice.
The dampness was pervasive. Pastor Tianming, a diligent scholar, found his Bible covered in green mold after just a short time in the house. The physical toll was lasting: those 18 years in the damp darkness left Tianming with chronic allergic asthma, a condition he battles to this day.
The Cost of Discipleship
Economically, the family has walked a tightrope for half a century. When their two children were young, they scraped by. But as the children approached high school, the math simply stopped working. They could not afford to educate both.
In a heartbreaking decision, the elder daughter, then only 16, chose to drop out of high school. She left for the city to work, sending money home so her younger brother could continue his education. While Tianming felt the weight of this sacrifice, he remained convicted of his calling to full-time ministry, and Shimu's small business income was insufficient to cover tuition.
Today, their son is a university graduate working in a library, a testament to his sister's sacrifice.
However, the financial strain persists. In 2025, a salary of 900 RMB is almost symbolic. The reality is stark: Pastor Tianming's asthma medication alone costs 600 RMB a month, leaving the couple with just 300 RMB for all other living expenses.
"I am grateful for God's grace," Tianming said, his optimism defying the numbers. "For us, relying on God is the only path. Our life is simple. For years, Shimu has survived mostly on steamed buns and pickles."
He spends his days immersed in the word of God, believing that his primary responsibility to his flock—and to God—is the preparation of spiritual food.
The Trishaw Driver: A Wife's Uncomplaining Love
While Tianming tends to the spiritual needs of the church, Shimu has quietly shouldered the burden of their survival. An uneducated woman who "doesn't know many characters," her spiritual depth rivals her husband's "five cartloads of learning."
To supplement their income, she bought a pedal tricycle (trishaw) to ferry passengers, earning 400 to 500 RMB a month.
"My thought was simple: if I work a bit more, Tianming can serve more, and God's name will be glorified," she said.
But times have changed. In their small county town, private cars and electric scooters are now ubiquitous, and public buses are free. At her advanced age, pedaling customers is physically exhausting, and business is scarce. Yet, she refuses to adopt the cutthroat tactics of her competitors. If a customer offers a few yuan less, she accepts it with grace. If another driver steals her passenger, she swallows the grievance, pouring out her tears only to God, never even burdening her husband.
Her resilience was tested three years ago in a freak accident. During a storm, a heavy iron gate was blown shut, striking the back of her head. She suffered a skull fracture and intracranial hemorrhage. Local doctors, fearing the bumpy road to the city hospital would kill her, issued a critical condition notice. They noted that no one with such severe cerebellar damage had survived in their hospital before.
Defying medical expectations, she recovered. While she retains some minor aftereffects, like a slight stutter, the couple views her survival as a divine intervention.
"Local Specialties" and a Meal to Remember
The extent of their isolation from modern consumer society was highlighted during a visit by Pastor Chen, an old classmate of Tianming.
Shocked by the poverty of Tianming's home—two borrowed rooms in a church building and a yard full of drying peanuts—Chen insisted on taking the couple out for a meal. He asked Tianming to recommend a restaurant serving local specialties.
Tianming, a local resident for over 60 years, was stumped. He answered, "I don't know."
He had simply never eaten out. To save money, the couple had cooked every meal at home for decades.
Chen eventually found a restaurant online. When they were ready to go, he had originally intended to drive the couple there, but Tianming declined, stating that he had a vehicle of his own.
"I assumed he meant he was going to drive a car," Chen recalled. "As it turned out, he did have a vehicle, but it was a tricycle—the very one Shimu used to ferry passengers for a living. The two of them just hopped on that tricycle and rode it there."
It was the couple's first time dining out, aside from wedding banquets. While they enjoyed the food, Pastor Chen ate with a heavy heart, overwhelmed by a mix of respect and sorrow.
Signs and Wonders
For this couple, faith is not theoretical; it is experiential. They speak of miracles with casual certainty.
Shimu recounts a time her daughter was critically ill. While anxious, she received a distinct spiritual reassurance that her daughter would live. The next day, against the odds, her daughter recovered.
Similarly, when their son and daughter-in-law remained childless for seven years, the congregation panicked, but Shimu remained calm, never once praying anxiously for it. She trusted the timing. Soon after, her daughter-in-law conceived twins.
Tianming recounts his own bout with a pneumothorax (collapsed lung). Hospitalized in a ward with three wealthy patients who groaned in pain all night, Tianming found himself miraculously pain-free. He ate his dry rations with an appetite that baffled the doctors and fellow patients. He was the last admitted but the first discharged.
A Sweet Farewell
As the interview concluded near noon, Shimu insisted on buying lunch. After a long "negotiation" where we pleaded a tight schedule, she reluctantly relented but forced a bag of peaches into our hands.
As we waited for the bus, Shimu came running up the road. She carried a bag containing slices of watermelon and the very last peaches from her kitchen.
The fruit was simple, but to us, it tasted sweeter than anything bought in a store. It was a flavor seasoned with sacrificial love. Shimu then begged to pedal us to the station in her tricycle, only desisting after repeated refusals.
In a 21st-century society driven by consumption and efficiency, Pastor Tianming and Shimu serve as a mirror. Their reflection shows that true abundance is not found in material wealth.
They possess no luxury cars, no grand house, and barely a stable income. Yet, they possess what many chase in vain: peace of mind, mutual devotion, and an unreserved trust in God.
Their story poses a lingering question: What is the true value of a life? Is it what we own, or who we live for? While they may live a lifestyle that looks like the 1900s, their love and faith are timeless, provoking both admiration and a deep, holy envy in those of us watching from the comfort of the modern world.
(At the request of the interviewee, "Tianming" is a pseudonym.)
Originally published by the Christian Times
- Edited and Translated by Elena Li
