Looking Back, Looking Forward

It's been way too long since I posted on here. I had an overall nice December, and was so glad to Skype with many relatives around Christmas time. I spent a wonderful Christmas Eve with my Korean family, and between the Christmas carols and Grandma's ragrug cookies, it was in the top 5 best times of the year. Other highlights of 2011 were my family's visit to Korea, my visit home this summer, the arrival of my good friend Karen's first baby, and I guess I'll leave the fifth spot open for whatever I've forgotten that was really worth remembering (the Handel's "Messiah" concert?!).

This week I worked hard to finish my 12th book of the year, so it would average out to one a month. :-) I wanted to write a blurb about each, but now I'm out of time. I'll just mention briefly how they changed me, if they did. However, they're all worth reading, and the list includes:

           

Peace Child, by Don Richardson

•       Inspired me to study Korean with diligence and discipline (yeah, I didn't expect that either).

Jesus for President, by Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw

•       Got me so excited about theology and church history that I seriously looked into all three seminaries in Seoul that offer English-language programs.

Enrique's Journey, by Sonia Nazario
 Crazy Love, by Francis Chan
Forgotten God, by Francis Chan
Please Look After Mom, by Kyung-sook Shin
The 33 Laws of Stewardship, by Dave Sutherland and Kirk Nowery
Girl Soldier, by Faith McDonnell and Grace Akallo

•       Inspired a donation to the relief work that Samaritan's Purse is doing in Northern Uganda, and inspired me to watch the documentary "Invisible Children"

Living Water, by Brother Yun and Paul Hattaway

•       Made me hungry enough for communion and faith application to do something about it.

One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp

•       Opened my eyes to grace in undesirable situations, and when at first I couldn't see grace, it at least caused me to search.

And, drum roll please.....
멈출 수 없는 하늘의 열정, by 정진호

•       Helped me see the value of laying down your life to reach your students.

하늘의 언어, by 김우현

•       Inspired me to pray for the baptism of the Holy Spirit, and to long eagerly for the gift of tongues.

(I wanna double the Korean titles next year!)

Well, I have one hour left until the New Year's Eve service (yes, this is Korea, where every special day gets a church service in its honor). 2011 has been a hard year for many around the world, including my family and me, but tonight I want to remember Emmanuel--"God with us". May the hope born at Christmas encourage and strengthen us to walk boldly into 2012, trusting in Jesus for the uncertainties that lie ahead. Happy New Year!

Celebrating Advent: Shame to Splendor

"Awake, awake, O Zion,
clothe yourself with strength.
Put on your garments of splendor,
O Jerusalem, the holy city.
The uncircumcised and defiled
will not enter you again.
Shake off your dust;
rise up, sit enthroned, O Jerusalem.
Free yourself from the chains on your neck,
O captive Daughter of Zion.

For this is what the LORD says:

'You were sold for nothing,
and without money you will be redeemed.'" -Isaiah 52:1-3

I've been struggling with sin these days. (When am I not struggling?) When I indulge in sin and later reflect on it, I'm filled with shame enough that I even avoid the Light. I don't want to come into God's presence unclean, disgraced, and humiliated in my weakness. This is natural, given that Light exposes darkness, God abhors sin, and our human inclination is to shun humility and weakness. But tonight, these verses fill me with hope.

It's like God is calling me personally to wake up, trade my grimy rags for a shining robe, shake off the shameful residue of sin, trade my compromising complacency for a dignified and authoritative posture, and pull myself out of the devil's vice-grip... ALL BECAUSE...

I have been redeemed by Jesus! On this first (well, technically second) day of Advent, I'm thanking God for giving us His son... His only son, Jesus... that we might be redeemed--that is, ransomed from the clutch of sin by the blood of Jesus--to reign with Him in righteousness. Hooray for the birth of our Redeemer!

My Pilgrim Thanksgiving

Far away again this year,

It doesn't feel like Thanksgiving.

I wonder when we'll meet again

In Grandma's long buffet line,

Corelle plates stacked thirty high

When we start stabbing turkey,

Scooping up sweet corn and green beans

With the heavy silver spoon--

The one marked with our initial.

I hope you'll remember me

In your distant merry-making,

Cheeks sore with unharnessed laughter,

Stomachs hanging over belts.

And when the feast is all finished

And you count off your blessings--

A trio of brown rice grains each--

I'll say grace over Corelle

Of sticky white rice and kimchi.

And I will give thanks as the Pilgims did--

For weathered homes of faith and hope,

More cherished with each season;

For friends and fam'ly far away,

The love that's still between us;

For unfamiliar fish and plants,

That faithfully sustain me;

For native friends who demonstrate

New ways to tend life's garden;

For precious ones who speak my tongue,

Better, language of the heart;

For purple blossoms dotting hills,

Silent streams stirred from slumber;

For God's presence and provision,

The Lord, worthy of all praise.

When you sit around the table,

Dishes cleared, picking out tea,

I'll pour a mug of yuja-cha,

Steam rising with thanksgiving.

And I will still miss you more than ever.

Taste and See

“What would you like to drink—orange or grape?” she asks, pulling juice containers from the refrigerator. “Grape,” I answer. “I'd wanted to bring some for communion.” Not that we've ever done that before, but somehow I don't feel silly saying it.

I notice a basket of clementines on the table next to a neat row of brick-orange persimmons. “We hardly have an income, and yet we're eating so well.” Her words spill over with gratitude and awe as she recounts the list of givers who have brought fruit, kimchi, spaghetti, and so on. It's evening, nearly time for me to go home, but she tells me to sit down and eat some of that spaghetti that's in the fridge. She hands me the tongs and I dish some up on my plate. “More,” she says. I open the jar of homemade tomato sauce with onions, mushrooms, and red peppers. I ladle it onto the pasta. She sets out a loaf of homemade oatmeal bread next to a jar of nutella, a gift from an international guest. I eat spaghetti and we fix some slices of bread, and I muse at the communion we're sharing, right here at the table, with chocolate spread and all.

A neighbor knocks on the door. A co-worker, he's in the middle of fixing a cookout for the staff community. “Wondered if I could borrow some ingredients,” he asks. He practically makes out a shopping list, rattling off more than a half dozen items he needs. Yes, yes, yes, yes; it's all here for the taking. He goes and comes back a couple more times, and my friend stretches out her hands, her hospitality, without hesitation. She tells me of a guest from the previous week. She'd come from abroad with no plan of where to stay for the week, and so my friend took her in. In fact, it was that guest who'd made the spaghetti I was eating.

As I eat, I remember the puzzle I'd been trying to figure out and see the pieces coming together. I'd been pondering Paul's praise of the Macedonian church: "Out of the most severe trial, their overwhelming joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity" (2 Cor. 8:2).

I wondered how it could be. How joy and poverty could add up to generosity? I see my “just enough” and measure it precisely, always calculating this gain and that loss and figuring how far I can spread everything around. Could I really spare to be generous? How could the Macedonians give “as much as they were able, and even beyond their ability” (2 Cor. 8:3)? How could poverty plus joy add up to anything but contented lack? And yet—was that it? Contented lack—having nothing and yet having everything. Having joy so great it overwhelms you, overwhelms you to the point where extreme poverty can't get you down, and you're just compelled to give more.

I think of Brother Yun's testimony of impoverished believers in China who, when the offering plate was passed to them, would put it down on the ground and physically step inside, symbolizing the gift of their very lives. And here my friend was, demonstrating a testimony I could taste with my own tongue, see with my own eyes. I tell her how my sister and I had talked about money that week. And how I've started saving, because if I don't pay for my necessities, they'll burden someone else. Afterall, didn't Paul boast that he worked for his own living so he wouldn't be a burden to anyone? And yet, as a wise relative noted, when we insulate ourselves with money, we “take away God's chance to do miracles.” I start to tell her of a family that lives by faith, but we get interrupted and the conversation shifts.

It's just as well, really, because these matters of faith and obedience and wisdom won't be resolved in a conversation. The answers are in red letters, and Paul's letters, and the cross. Sometimes conversations become a tool to circumvent the answer you already know in your heart but don't want to admit. The more you discuss something the more complicated it becomes, and pretty soon there are so many reasonable viewpoints, you have no idea which way to go and any road seems just as valid.

Perhaps it boils down to the question another friend struggles to answer—perhaps the question at the heart of each of us: Does God really love me? And should I trust Him?

If we know God loves us, we have courage to trust Him with our lives—our whole lives: especially money, and also health, relationships, employment, and so on, until ultimately we trust Him to lead us into eternal life.

This week, it seems like God's been wooing me (with food and friendship—He knows what I go for!), convincing me that He really sees me, knows my hidden aches and pains, and holds all Power in His loving, able hands.

When I met my friend on Thursday, my heart felt empty of treasures and heavy with burdens. We sat in the park and I poured out the tears, and when it was time to go back home my heart was full again. The next day was a similar story... what grace that God's mercy is new every morning.

All throughout the week, God's been reminding me, persuading me, to “taste and see that the Lord is good” (Ps. 34:8).

Wednesday, a missionary gave me a loaf of raisin bread I've been munching on all week. Friday, another missionary took me out for lunch, filling not just my belly, but also my heart with good counsel and fellowship. Sunday, I received some fruit from the church's thanksgiving celebration. Monday, I started teaching English to a new friend and she brought a basketful of mocha buns (my favorite!!) and kiwis. The mocha buns really blew me away—only a couple people know I'm crazy about those. And today, I visited my Korean mom, and she sent me home with homemade pickled tomatoes and three loaves of fresh-baked panini. It didn't take long to finish off the first two loaves!

In all these gifts, I see God's love. I know that He sees me. I know that He knows me thoroughly, even the things I can't put into words. I know that He's got me covered.

“Taste and see that the Lord is good.”

Yes, I've been tasting. And I guess God knew I would be. Tomorrow He's lined up a free dentist appointment for me to get my teeth cleaned. =) Oh, me of little faith... how could I still doubt?

Taste and see... taste and see... the Lord is good.

Kimjang--Making Loads of Kimchi to Last all Year!

This past weekend, Sarangbang students, parents, community and church members got together to make kimchi! The event is known as kimjang (김장), and it happens once a year in the fall. Kimjang is done all over Korea, especially among older women, who make it for their children. Can you taste the kimchi in these pictures? ;-)

Garden-fresh Korean radishes

Preparing the cabbage (clockwise from upper left). It gets rinsed in salt water and then soaks in tubs of salt water overnight. The high school guys stir it around at 2 or 3am.



Red pepper paste (blend of red peppers, green onions, white onions, garlic, and some other stuff)



Applying the red pepper paste to the cabbage leaves. This part took a couple hours.

No doubt that man is inspecting my work. ;) First we were told to put just a LITTLE bit of paste on the leaves. I took it too far and kept getting told to add more. Someday I'll get it just right.

I can't imagine my grandma ever squatting like this to work.

Radishes + red pepper paste = Radish Kimchi!

Sopping up the extra paste with discarded cabbage leaves.

Bagging it for storage

Looks yummy!

Squeezing all the air out of the bags, any way we could.

Traditional kimjang lunch: boiled pork chunks, cabbage leaves, and slimy oysters. Not my favorite!

I hope this comes out in the wash!

Desiring Reformation

The Sunday before last, our church commemorated the 494^th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation. The sermon was based on Jesus' letter to the church in Sardis (Revelation 3:1-6), a letter I needed to read as much as anyone. Here's the Message translation:

"I see right through your work. You have a reputation for vigor and zest, but you're dead, stone-dead. Up on your feet! Take a deep breath! Maybe there's life in you yet. But I wouldn't know it by looking at your busywork; nothing of God's work has been completed. Your condition is desperate. Think of the gift you once had in your hands, the Message you heard with your ears—grasp it again and turn back to God.” (v.1-3)

When I heard this, I was gripped by the disparity between reputation and reality, busywork and God's work. I may have a good reputation and enjoy the favor of many, but that's meaningless to God. He knows my heart; he feels my pulse. He knows if Christ is living in me, the source of my work and the author of my days... Or if I'm spiritually dead, and trying to do things in my own power, enough to look good to others.

We often hear, “Don't worry about what others think,” usually in the context of people looking down on us. But maybe we need to hear it more when people are looking up to us. It's far too easy to swell with contentment when others praise and admire us, and even take that as an indication that we've done “enough to get by.”

The thing is, even in our “reformed” Church today, the standards and requirements we hold each other to are often different from what we find in Jesus' life and God's Word. Culture, bureaucracy, politics, legalism, and misled notions of grace often lead us astray on our path of discipleship...if we've ever even started down that path (belief is just the beginning!). We can far exceed others' expectations and still fall short of God's desire for our lives; and likewise, even ironically, we can please God and not satisfy others.

Last Sunday afternoon, our church had a lecture about the Reformation which I really didn't want to attend. Don't get me wrong—I like learning and listening to lectures—but in a language I can understand, please! After a lot of inner debate, I finally decided to let myself off the hook, come back to my room, do a quick computer search on the Reformation (to make up for missing the lecture, haha), and then continue reading from Brother Yun's Living Water.

What do you know, but the next chapter in was titled, “Sleeping church, Awake!” and quoted the same exact passage we'd read in church that morning—the letter to the church in Sardis! I knew it had to be a “God thing,” so I paid attention. Brother Yun reiterated two important points: the Church's urgent calling and purpose, and the need for obedience! I wish I could quote the whole thing, but I'll refraint:

“A spiritually dull church or believer is a poor witness for the living, resurrected Jesus. A church is meant to be a training centre and command hub for war, not a social club for pleasantries and hypocrisy, where people give lip service to Christ while refusing to obey His commands. Not only does God want you to wake up, but He has a work for you to do.

“[Many Christians] listen intently to every word that is spoken, but there is one major thing missing in their spiritual lives. They need to start obeying the Word of God.

“You see, when you only listen to the Word of God, your heart gets filled up with spiritual food. This is good, but it is there to serve a purpose. That purpose is for you to go and share the food you have with the hungry, so that they too can know Jesus. If you just keep God's blessings to yourself, you will become a bloated and sick Christian. When you share them with others, the Holy Spirit will give you more so that you can share more. It is a wonderful thing.”

That feeling of bloated-ness is partly what motivated me to get on a bus, go downtown, and look for poor people to share communion with a couple months ago. I read and read and read, and learn until I'm bursting with ideas and conviction about how I must live. But instead of trying it out, I heave a contented sigh, exclaim “Oh, that's good!,” and start reading again. There came a point where I said, “I cannot read another good thought on holy living until I put some of it into practice.” If we want to talk about reform, I think we have to start with ourselves. Make sure our individual limbs are fit for the Body, and start walking in obedience to the Word and the Spirit's movement in our lives. Stop just reading...

The Dandelion Community

Yesterday I went with a group from our church to visit the Dandelion Community. The Dandelion Community is located 4 1/2 hours south of here, in the middle of the Gyeongnam province countryside. I got a little homesick on the way there, seeing all the mountains wrapped in warm fall shades, fields ready for harvest, and orchards heavyladen with fruit. In one stretch of highway, I was back in the foothills of North Carolina, then watching combines scoop up corn and beans, and even back at Grandma and Grandpa's old house, riding Polly through the apple orchard. Never mind that yesterday's fields were full of rice and the orchards bursting with persimmons. Anyway, I was pretty excited to visit another Christian community for the first time, but the trip fell short of my expectations. I couldn't get a feel for their daily life or understand a word of the looong briefing we received. To be honest, my excitement to get home last night rivaled the last day of the school backpacking trip. But at least I've seen it now. Next I need to visit a community closer to home in Seoul!

Dandelion Community's rice fields

Just look at all those beautiful persimmons!

According to their website, the philosophy of the Dandelion Community is modeled after the leaves, roots, and seeds of a dandelion. The leaves represent a simple lifestyle that is "third-world-friendly." The roots represent thinking, acting, and relating deeply, especially with "God and people in daily life." The seeds blown by the wind represent the community people directed by the Holy Spirit to go and help the poor wherever the Holy Spirit leads them.

About thirty people live and work together at the Dandelion Community. They focus largely on organic farming and sustainable living, especially in terms of alternative energy. Windmills and solar panels, which they have made themselves (and teach others how to make in workshops here and in third world countries), can be seen as an active energy source next to many of their buildings. They use alternative energy as a mode for spreading the Gospel, as they visit very poor communities and teach them how to make use of intermediate technology. Their goal is to be self-sufficient in terms of food, clothing, and shelter, and they operate a middle and high school where boarding students from outside the community can also learn these skills.

Roughly 17% of their energy is derived from solar power.

Not sure what this building is... hopefully not sleeping quarters! ;)

Middle school dormitory on the left, school building on the right. I love the flowers growing on the roof!



Middle school boys standing shyly in front of a classroom.

You can learn a lot about Dandelion Community's vision, lifestyle, and unique programs by visiting their website. I admire their dedication to environmentalism, healthy living, and Christian community, but I didn't feel any call to move there. I guess Sarangbang can keep me for another year.

Rows and rows of peppers

Our church's head cook marveling over the size of these cabbages--twice the size of ours up north!

Fall is for Friends

This week I've enjoyed spending a lot of time outdoors and sharing good memories with friends. Last Friday, I took my elementary class to the mountain behind the school, and we had fun playing tag and a Korean version of "red light, green light." I didn't even know I could still run that fast. Actually, I guess I couldn't... when it was my turn to be "it," I couldn't catch anyone, so they added an extra "it" to help me. :-) After all that running around, I was excited to visit my Korean "Mom"'s house and have homemade pizza for dinner!
 

The next day was my dear friend Karen's baby shower. Karen grew up hearing the story of her own baby shower, about how the guests had prayed blessings over her life, and she wanted to do that for her daughter, too. So last Saturday evening, church friends and coworkers gathered to praise God, remember His faithfulness, and pray for the soon-to-be family of three, especially baby Lomie. After the service, we had a delicious baked potato bar--it was the first time the Korean guests had tried it, and they really loved it. What a fun and meaningful baby shower tradition! I told Karen I want to copy her if and when I ever have my own. :-)

(Jin Song Lee gets credit for all the baby shower pics.) 

 
Yesterday, I was really blessed by the thoughtfulness of Faith, one of the teachers at our school. She took me out to lunch at Burger Prince, hands-down the best burger joint I've ever been to, and of course they're homemade! I got the country burger, which has the essentials plus nacho cheese, chili sauce, bacon, and egg. So unexpectedly good!! I also enjoyed spending time with Faith, who speaks English fluently (!) and has a really gracious, cheerful spirit. (I really share her tastes by the way. From haircut to clothes to home decor, I'm pretty sure I'll be her American twin thirty years from now. ;)) This is a picture of Faith and my mom from May of this year.

Today was also full of blessings. My Korean tutor took me and another of her friends out for a tasty fish lunch at a lakeside restaurant made of beautiful timber. She speaks fast and uses vocabulary out of my league, so I only catch about 25% of the conversation. But even so, her faith, gentleness, and love, and especially her childlike delight in God's creation, make me slow down, notice wonders I hadn't seen before, and inspire me to grow in my love and acceptance of others.

After lunch, we went to the National Forest and enjoyed walking through the woods at prime time (mid-afternoon when the pine trees give off their freshest fragrance, which is also good for health). The leaves have nearly all changed color now and many trees have already lost their leaves, but there were still some dark reds, oranges, and yellows clinging to the branches. Halfway through our walk, we sat down for a rest and had an interesting conversation about meditation and freedom. Our mutual friend, as well as the friend who joined us today, are both non-Christians, and I love watching my teacher interacts with them on faith issues. She listens with patience and respect, and shares with gentleness and joy, and in it all, I see real love for the one she's engaging. And then she'll suddenly rope me into the conversation with, "What do you think about this?" and I'm startled and search for the right words, and then struggle to turn them into Korean and kick myself for not being more adept. But I love that we're given these opportunities for friendship. And it's certainly a good reminder that God's call and movement in my life will always require more than I could handle on my own.