It is 1995, the summer before my senior year in college. Dad and I took a trip to China to smuggle in Bibles and to meet with the underground church in various cities. 

During one meeting in a larger city, we met in a building where some sat in desks and others stood all around the back. Even though these Chinese believers had faced relentless persecution from the authorities, they sat in anticipation of hearing Dad speak. 

Just before Dad was to go up to speak, he leaned over to me and said “They’re here. Do you see them?” I didn’t understand the question. He then said, “When we all bow our heads for prayer, look up. You’ll know it when you see it.” 

Sure enough, moments later during the opening prayer, all of the believers bowed their heads. I peaked up to see what dad was talking about. Among the 150 or so people in the room, three men kept their eyes open, heads darting around nervously. They were the secret police, trying to embed themselves in our service, and they were quickly exposed.