Went for a walk this evening, thinking I've got to get out of this sedentary lifestyle I've slipped into. It turns chilly fast in the evenings, so I pulled a jacket over my fleece sweater, grabbed my sneakers from the shoe rack, and stepped outside. The gentle breeze and the foggy twilight did wonders for my soul. And yet I found my mind soon busy again with mental checklists: When I get back I have to print copies for tomorrow's lessons, write a journal for Korean class, write that email, and write on the blog if there's time (I ended up working backwards, eek).
And then I shifted to prayer. Just throwing out ideas and questions really. But aloud, of course, which often turns out to be embarrassing when I realize someone's working in the field right next to me. But anyway, tonight's dialogue was something as follows:
God, I'm ready to move on. Not from Korea, but from here. What do you want me to do? Where do you want me to go?
And the Holy Spirit brought to memory this morning's devotion:
Remember what Johanan and the other army leaders asked of Jeremiah: 'Pray that the LORD our God will show us the way we should go and what we should do.' (Jer.42:3) But they had to be obedient to whatever God told them: 'Whether it pleases us or not, we will obey the LORD our God, to whom we are asking you to pray. All will go well with us if we obey him.'" (Jer. 42:6)
Mm, right. OK, God. Then tell me what You want and give me the grace and faith to be obedient. It looks like Desire A is impossible right now. And Desire B has limitless options but I don't know which to pursue. . .And I've got these ants in my pants. This desire to get on with things that is hard to ignore. Couldn't this antsiness be from You? God, if you want me to halt my pursuit of A and B, then take the ants out of my pants and give me peace instead.
Then the Holy Spirit reminded me of the second part of today's meditation:
"If you are willing to go on living in this land, then I will build you up and not tear you down; I will plant you and not pull you up. . .But you...must not disobey the LORD your God and refuse to live in this land. You must not say, 'No, we will go and live in Egypt, where we won't face war any more or hear the call to battle or go hungry. . . If you are determined to go and live in Egypt, then the war that you fear will overtake you, and the hunger you dread will follow you, and you will die there in Egypt." (Jer. 42:10,13-16)
And I realized that antsiness doesn't mean I'm in the wrong place. Johanan, the other army leaders, and the prisoners of war in their charge were desperate to flee from the Babylonians and return to Egypt, and yet that was not God's way. God had a better finale in mind for them than they would find in Egypt, but it required their willingness to go on living in "this land" for a while longer. In fact, if they sought to avoid their present situation by going where the grass was greener, they were essentially choosing their own destruction.
All right, so I get it. My feelings or inclinations are not necessarily reflections of Your will, and sometimes (perhaps more often than not) the way we're supposed to go is counter-intuitive. But God, I keep thinking about time. Four years. Four years here seems like a healthy amount. Not too short, not too long. But five years? Do I want to make a career of it here? No, no I don't. I want to move on, to move forward, to develop my potential more. I've spent the prime of my life here. Before long I'll be thirty. God, can't we get a move on things? Whatever your bigger plan for me is, can't I get started on it now? You know, be efficient?
Without much hesitation, the Lord reminded me of His faithfulness and perfect timing in the past. Specifically, He reminded me of my desire to work with North Korean defectors. I can't remember exactly when that desire precipitated, but it felt like eons before it was realized. And, oh, how impatient I was to just get started already. About this time last year, I met someone involved in helping defectors and he encouraged me to volunteer time teaching them English. When the time felt right, I told him I was ready, but he never got back to me. I told him again, and still no response. Frustrated, I threw up my hands and thought, "Oh, well. I guess this isn't the time afterall." Soon after, he called and explained he'd been out of the country on business, and would I mind tutoring a 15-year-old boy? I've been tutoring Jordan for three months now and it's great how well we get along.
But the thing is, and this is what God reminded me of--had I gotten my heart's desire when I first desired it, I couldn't have enjoyed it at all. It goes without question that I need to use a lot of Korean when I talk to Jordan and his mother. There is absolutely no way I could have enjoyed the same quality of tutoring or relationships with them one or two years ago as I can now. And in God's grace, He didn't make me wait until I was fluent or totally qualified! He just waited until the fruit I desired was ripe for the picking, so I could savor it when sweetest. Had it been up to me, I would've picked too soon and been stuck with a sour fruit. I was reminded to Trust Him.
God wants me to trust His motives, too. When God withholds my desires, He's surely not doing it to drive me crazy. He's probably not even doing it just to build up my endurance (although that's what I often think). As in the example of needing to develop my Korean skills before I could effectively work with North Korean defectors, God is actively working for my good. Rather than dangling a prize just above my head out of arms' reach, is it possible He's building a step stool for me to reach it?
I've started to perceive my present situation as perseverance and patience training. I keep looking at the prize above my head and wondering when the timer will go off, so God will lower the string and let the prize drop into my hand. But God assured me tonight that He's not sitting idly by, playing some waiting game to test my endurance. He is actively engaged in working things out for my good. I can't see the details of how right now, but I can trust Him. I can trust His character. And that's what He wants from me now: to Trust Him.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Buddha's Birthday
Monday was Buddha's birthday, a national holiday, so I enjoyed a day off from school. I decided that after 4 years, it was high time to check out the Buddhist temple and see how the holiday was celebrated.
I hopped on the bus to Bongseonsa, the largest temple in the area, and wedged myself in between the steps and the bus driver's seat. It was standing room only. Bus was definitely the way to go though, as the parking lot was packed and the bumper-to-bumper line of cars around its perimeter was barely creeping along.
The party started before I even reached the entrance. Vendors were making good business from behind their carts of cotton candy, kebab, corn on the cob, corn dogs, even boiled silk worms.
Apparently, Buddha's birthday is a pretty big deal; I imagine the devout and non-devout alike show up to pay their respects, just as Christians turn out on Christmas and Easter Sundays. The mood was like a festival. There were vendors selling ice cream, puffed rice cake, and ddeokbokki. There were ajummeonis dressed in hanbok lined up on either side of the sidewalk to greet and bow to visitors. There were women selling bright red and yellow long-stem roses (for people to place in the temple, if I recall). And there was even a lawn exhibit of religious paintings available for purchase.
But the most glorious scene was inside the temple courtyard, right above my head. There were thousands of festive lotus lanterns, which people had paid up to hundreds of dollars for each, and which bore the wish of the buyer and helped them win favor with Buddha to make that wish come true. It was a sight to behold.
And at the far side of the courtyard, well away from the long line of hungry visitors waiting their turn for a free bowl of bibimbap, was a platform for a dozen or so monks dressed in clay-colored hanbok and next to them a table set with offerings of fruit for Buddha. A large group of women in fancy hanbok sat on the other side and looked like they might be a choir, although I didn't stay long enough to find out.
The only quiet place to be found was a lotus pond at the outskirts of the temple grounds. I assume the lack of food vendors there accounted for the crowd control. :-)
Less than an hour passed before I was ready to head home for lunch. I thought I'd probably get a seat on the bus this time, since it was headed away from the temple and I was one of the first people at the bus stop. But when the bus came, the grannies mobbed it and squeezed on ahead of me two at a time. I found it so funny, I decided to forget nabbing a seat and just get a picture instead. While the field trip was fun and I'm glad for the experience, I think once every four years is enough. ;-)
I hopped on the bus to Bongseonsa, the largest temple in the area, and wedged myself in between the steps and the bus driver's seat. It was standing room only. Bus was definitely the way to go though, as the parking lot was packed and the bumper-to-bumper line of cars around its perimeter was barely creeping along.
The party started before I even reached the entrance. Vendors were making good business from behind their carts of cotton candy, kebab, corn on the cob, corn dogs, even boiled silk worms.
 |
| The middle pot is filled with boiled silk worm pupae. |
Apparently, Buddha's birthday is a pretty big deal; I imagine the devout and non-devout alike show up to pay their respects, just as Christians turn out on Christmas and Easter Sundays. The mood was like a festival. There were vendors selling ice cream, puffed rice cake, and ddeokbokki. There were ajummeonis dressed in hanbok lined up on either side of the sidewalk to greet and bow to visitors. There were women selling bright red and yellow long-stem roses (for people to place in the temple, if I recall). And there was even a lawn exhibit of religious paintings available for purchase.
But the most glorious scene was inside the temple courtyard, right above my head. There were thousands of festive lotus lanterns, which people had paid up to hundreds of dollars for each, and which bore the wish of the buyer and helped them win favor with Buddha to make that wish come true. It was a sight to behold.
And at the far side of the courtyard, well away from the long line of hungry visitors waiting their turn for a free bowl of bibimbap, was a platform for a dozen or so monks dressed in clay-colored hanbok and next to them a table set with offerings of fruit for Buddha. A large group of women in fancy hanbok sat on the other side and looked like they might be a choir, although I didn't stay long enough to find out.
The only quiet place to be found was a lotus pond at the outskirts of the temple grounds. I assume the lack of food vendors there accounted for the crowd control. :-)
Less than an hour passed before I was ready to head home for lunch. I thought I'd probably get a seat on the bus this time, since it was headed away from the temple and I was one of the first people at the bus stop. But when the bus came, the grannies mobbed it and squeezed on ahead of me two at a time. I found it so funny, I decided to forget nabbing a seat and just get a picture instead. While the field trip was fun and I'm glad for the experience, I think once every four years is enough. ;-)
Monday, May 28, 2012
Back Again by Grace--A Letter to my Readers
Dear Friends,
It's been a long time, hasn't it? Thanks for stopping by. I haven't written in a couple months, mainly because my spiritual reservoir was all clogged up with sin and idols. In the last couple weeks-- 16 days to be exact :) --God has delivered me from a certain 10-month battle with sin and revealed my heart's unholy ambition and lust for knowledge and learning. (Of course, the latter aren't bad in themselves, but my heart was gluttinous for them.) A steady, heavy diet of self-indulgence and secular reading, and soon my ego and mind were overweight, while my heart was wasting away. My thoughts became shallow and I couldn't think of anything worth writing about. Or if I did think of something, I felt too hypocritical to share it. "Pilgrim's pursuit" felt more like "pilgrim's despair."
But now, by God's great grace, because of His redemptive love--on the cross, bearing my shame, and everyday in the battles against sin--I find myself ready to write again. Ready to dip my ladle in His free-flowing stream and share the water. Ready to exclaim, "To God be the glory, great things He has done!" More pictures and stories to come tomorrow.
It's been a long time, hasn't it? Thanks for stopping by. I haven't written in a couple months, mainly because my spiritual reservoir was all clogged up with sin and idols. In the last couple weeks-- 16 days to be exact :) --God has delivered me from a certain 10-month battle with sin and revealed my heart's unholy ambition and lust for knowledge and learning. (Of course, the latter aren't bad in themselves, but my heart was gluttinous for them.) A steady, heavy diet of self-indulgence and secular reading, and soon my ego and mind were overweight, while my heart was wasting away. My thoughts became shallow and I couldn't think of anything worth writing about. Or if I did think of something, I felt too hypocritical to share it. "Pilgrim's pursuit" felt more like "pilgrim's despair."
But now, by God's great grace, because of His redemptive love--on the cross, bearing my shame, and everyday in the battles against sin--I find myself ready to write again. Ready to dip my ladle in His free-flowing stream and share the water. Ready to exclaim, "To God be the glory, great things He has done!" More pictures and stories to come tomorrow.
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