The Final Countdown

Whew, it was a busy weekend and a lazy week--gotta catch up on my thanks-giving pledge! Actually, I already wired the money to Kenya this afternoon, but I'll still tell you what I'm thankful for...

In case you haven't read, I'm acquainted with a pastor in Kenya who is keen to get an amplifier to aid in spreading the Gospel. He and the evangelists in his church have a fire for outreach and are seeing many people come to Jesus. But their gathering venues--an overcrowded tin-sided church for Sundays and a roadside for outreaches--really make an amplifier an invaluable asset.

There's no way I can provide the $400-500 an amplifier costs, but I can give $50 and encourage others to chip in, too. So I decided to give $5 thanks' offering for 10 things I'm thankful for, give that money to the church in Kenya, and encourage folks like you to join me in thanks-giving.

I've already blogged thanks for #1--Freedom, and #2--God-moments. Here's the rest of my list...

#3--Skype
What would I do without it? Thanks to Skype, I can see my whole family parade live in front of the camera with bellies full of turkey after Thanksgiving dinner. I can see if my Grandfather is keeping his bed made and room tidy. I can take tours of friends' new houses and they can see mine. Skype... the communication marvel of our time. It is well-deserving of $5.

#4--Books
They shape me, teach me, encourage me, stretch my mind. They prevent me from getting Alzheimer's...or over-exercising (haha). Seeing as how I've got books stacked horizontal on top of the upright ones on the shelf, they probably deserve an additional bookcase in addition to a mere $5. That'll have to wait...

#5--Normal Body
Well, excluding my height and hairy arms, which make me a bit of a freak in Korea. :-) But I'm so thankful I don't suffer from any food allergies, like glutin- or lactose-intolerance, which would make life oh-so-complicated. And I'm thankful that I can comfortably eat just about anything and do any normal physical activity without worrying or planning ahead (i.e. taking a shot of insulin, or packing an inhaler), and that I don't require any regular medicines or doctor's appointments.

#6--My Family (these are not listed in order of importance, haha)
From my immediate family to my grandparents and cousins, God has blessed me with an incredible, supportive family. I hope to resemble each one of them in some way, and I love them and appreciate their love so very much. It would take too long to commend them for all they are and all they do, so I'll leave it at this.

#6--My Adoptive Families
From the Dominican Republic to Goshen, IN to Busan, South Korea to my next-door neighbors (and especially my next-door neighbors!), God has blessed me with many sincere and loving guardians on my journey. I'm especially thankful for my Korean mom and dad, who love and care for me just like a daughter. Words can't express my gratitude for their presence in my life.

#7--My Private Bathroom
Being a bit of a germaphobe, I don't know how I'd handle sharing a bathroom with the 4 pre-schoolers and Kindergarteners in my house. I think I'd be willing to pay $5 x 100 for the privilege of having my own bathroom... but fortunately, it was included from day one. I think it adds more to my quality of life than my Western-style bed.

#8--School Food
Not only does our school have delicious food (most of the time), but it's free and organic! Eating healthy, organic food 5 days a week allows me to save money with simple, instant food on the weekends. And seeing how much I favor simple, instant food when left to my own devices, that healthy school food prevents me from getting fat or deficient in vitamins and minerals (now I'm sounding like an adult).

#9--My Down Coat
I don't usually remember it in the summer, but this is one item I wouldn't want to live without in the winter. Considering that I require two layers of pants in my house in the winter, you can imagine why a good winter coat would be essential outdoors. Or in an unheated cafeteria. :-P

#10--Vacation Time
This is appropriate for the last day of school, which is tomorrow! I'm sooo thankful for long vacations to go see family in the summer or catch up on studying in the winter. I think I'm really spoiled--but I'm thankful so that makes it okay, right?! ;)

Please consider chiming in on what you're thankful for and giving a thanks offering to the Church in Kenya. An amp would be so helpful to their ministry. And while they could technically survive without it--just like I can technically survive without 9/10 things on my list (#2 is pretty vital when you consider every breath to be a God-moment)--I know they would be very, VERY thankful and their outreach blessed by it. Or should I say, amplified? ;)

Pastor Lukas' church in Eldoret, Kenya

Home Cell Group with Evangelist Idimuli (far left)

$5 for God-Moments

God Moments. The time during my first year in Korea when I was craaaaving a hamburger, and *knock knock*, I open the door and there's a teacher thrusting a Burger King bag into my hands. Or the time I wasn't sure how finances were going to work out, and I felt a whisper in my heart telling me to check my online bank balance for any surprises--and there it was, an unexpected deposit for the amount I needed. Or the days I'm feeling down and a thoughtful card arrives in the mail. Those moments when God reveals His very intimate knowledge of my inner cravings, and material and emotional needs, by providing for me in just the right way at just the right time. Those moments when I'm overwhelmed by how much God LOVES me!

On this second day of "thanks-giving," I pledge a $5 donation in honor of those God Moments. In case you haven't read, for 10 days I'll be naming things I'm thankful for, making a $5 thanks offering for each one, and donating the $50 to Pastor Lukas in Kenya to help purchase an amp for outreach services. (Check previous posts for details.) Would you join me in naming your blessings and giving a thanks offering to help support the soul harvesters in Eldoret, Kenya?!

Young people dancing at a crusade in May 2012--Pastor Lukas (back right)

$5 for Freedom!

Being the 4th of July, I couldn't think of a more fitting or enormous blessing to give thanks for today. I'm neither very politically nor patriotically inclined, but I can say without a doubt that I'm thankful for the freedom we have in the United States. Political freedom, religious freedom, freedom to express radical views and vote and study and travel and pursue dreams. These are things which many around the world can hardly begin to imagine. I'm also thankful for the freedoms our culture offers, those individualistic values that the West is famous (or infamous) for. I know we take it too far sometimes, but living in Asia--and an intentional community besides--I often miss the freedom and convenience of a life uncontrolled by the (possible) feelings, whims, or thoughts of everyone else in the group. ;-)

Beyond the freedoms protected in the U.S. Constitution and encouraged by our culture, I am even more grateful for the freedom I have in Christ. Freedom to step off the religious treadmill of works-based salvation and fall into grace. Freedom to forgive others instead of harboring anger and resentment. Freedom to entrust my worries and burdens to the Lord. Freedom to live by faith, detached from the standards of this world.

Yes, I think FREEDOM is worth at least this...

 ... don't you?

In case you missed yesterday's post, starting today I will name 10 things I'm thankful for and pledge a $5 thanks offering for each one. The $50 will go to Pastor Lukas in Kenya to help purchase an amp for outreach services. (Check yesterday's post for details.) Would you join me in naming your blessings and giving a thanks offering to help buy this much-needed amp?!

Pastor Lukas is the shepherd of a quickly-growing church in Eldoret, Kenya. His passion is to reach the lost, and what a passion it is! His congregation has already distributed the 5000 gospel tracts they received earlier in the year, and he and another one or two evangelists are continuously reaching out to the slum-dwellers, drug addicts, witch doctors, and crippled in their community. And they are RIPE for the harvest! Their church has experienced rapid church growth and seen many new believers baptized this year. You can help them reach more people with the Gospel by helping provide an amplifier for their outdoor gatherings. Please contact me here, via email, or on Facebook if you'd like to get involved!

Pastor Lukas (left) at the baptism service on June 3, 2012.

Church in Eldoret, Kenya

Gratitude to Generosity: An Invitation to Thanks-Giving

I've been thinking a lot lately about my college summers up on Pine Mountain in Harlan, KY, working as a camp cook for a Mennonite home repair organization. Maybe it's the warm weather or early mornings or time outside at the picnic table, I'm not sure, but I've been filled this week with immense gratitude for that season of my life. There were lonely times and burned out times, but all in all, there were wonderful times of deep friendship, God encounters in nature, journaling, DQ runs, pranks among the staff, grocery shopping with three overloaded buggies, sightseeing, staff devotions, circle prayer in the fog, driving up and down the mountain in the so-called Wagon of Death (a decrepit old station wagon that lacked even power steering), trips to the library, frozen pizza on the weekends, swimming at the lake on Wednesdays, and so on. Looking back, I'm awed by how God blessed me with such rich "mountaintop" experiences there.

Being filled with gratitude for the past makes me aware that someday in the future I'll recall my present experiences with the same affection and thanksgiving. So why not try to recognize the preciousness of this moment now?

Tonight on my walk I tried to imagine what will stick out to me a couple years from now when I remember my life at Sarangbang. What will I be thankful for looking back? Thankful for bowls of cereal outside at the picnic table, for long, inconvenient walks to the bus stop, for the verdant green gardens and rice fields all around, for miniature deer and wild pig sightings, for walks and naps on the mountain, for trips with students, for my housemates, for afternoons at Sungmi's house, for morning prayer, for even the somewhat dreaded community meetings. :-)

Walking along in this train of thought, I noticed a 30-some year-old African man from Burkina Faso--he works at the African Cultural Center down the road--stepping inside the village shop. On summer evenings, a group of Africans can often be found enjoying cold beers on the platform outside. Just last evening they were playing the bongos, and I could hardly believe I was in a little ol' valley with nothing but one living-room size store. Knowing their life to be pretty difficult, I suddenly wondered what it would be like to be that man--but without my Christian faith.

When I go through hard times, I find near immediate peace just by remembering my Father God, by remembering that He knows and sees and cares for me. When I'm angry, I receive the freedom of forgiveness; when I'm hurt, I receive comfort and healing; when I'm worried, I hear His promise to take care of me; when I'm down, I feel His presence with me; when I'm confused and have all questions and not a single answer, I at least know that He knows and He's trustworthy. And so I thought to myself, it must be so frightening and depressing to go through life without knowing God. How would I make it through without that peace of being loved and cared for as God's child?

And so I realized my faith--or trusting in Jesus--is the biggest thing I'm thankful for. How could I offer that to others? And I remembered Pastor Lukas in Eldoret, Kenya, and his persistent plea for an amplifier for outdoor revival and outreach gatherings. The amp. The amp. It's been hanging over my head for weeks. This continuous cry for an amp to bring the Good News to the lost, and my lack of funds and know-how for how to make it materialize.

I've prayed for ideas and wisdom, I've considered different kinds of fund-raisers from bake sales to English lessons. I've wondered what words would be most persuasive to possible donors. I've wondered whom among my friends to send requests to, and how to awaken their interest in a pastor in Kenya who needs an amp for evangelism. But tonight I got a brainstorm.

Gratitude is the spring from which generosity flows. To be generous, we must first be grateful. And if we are grateful, generosity will naturally abound. It seems Koreans know this. At least the ones in my church do. Every week, there are a dozen names printed in our church bulletin of the people who volunteered to cook that Sunday's lunch or provide flowers for the altar. Next to each name is a short one- or two-word description of the reason for their generosity. Sometimes the phrase is 결혼 기념 (wedding anniversary), but usually it is 감사 (thanks). Often it is 생일 감사 (birthday thanks), sometimes 입대 감사 (college entrance thanks), 졸업 감사 (graduation thanks), 이사 감사 (moving thanks), or even 심방 감사 (thanks for someone visiting me). I often think I'll wait for something big to happen and then offer a gift of thanks. But even now, in the little things or in hard times, there is still so much to be thankful for. There is no occasion or blessing too trivial to give thanks for.

So tonight I decided to give a thanks offering to the Church in Eldoret, Kenya to go towards buying an amp. It should cost between $400-$500 and there's no way I can afford even half of it. But what if you and I and other readers pooled our thanks? What if we each thought of 10 things we're thankful for, and gave $5 thanks for each one? Together we could buy an amp to deliver the Good News to thousands of souls craving the peace of salvation we take for granted. We could give them something to be eternally grateful for.

Will you join me in giving gifts of thanks? Over the next 10 days, I will post 10 things I'm thankful for along with short testimonies and pictures from Brother Lukas' church in Kenya. If you'd like to join in the thanks-giving, please leave a comment, send me an email, or message me on facebook. I'd love to post your list of 10, too!!! I'm happy to wire you donation for you or I can give you Brother Lukas' contact info so you can wire it directly. Praying to hear from you soon!!

Field Trip to Prison

I like to reward myself for reading, hiking, and studying. If I persevere through a long and difficult book or finish a strenuous hike--be it 4 hours or 4 days--I earn a fancy drink at a nice coffee shop. It doesn't sound like much, but it gets better... If I finish a Korean book--or a Korean grammar book, in this case (I make the rules, so I can bend them^^)-- I earn an additional Korean book plus a field trip! :-)

So last night after finishing my Korean grammar book, I reached for the Lonely Planet guidebook and settled on a place to spend my Saturday: prison!

I'd been wanting to visit Seodaemun Historical Prison since last semester when my students were reading "When My Name Was Keoko," a historical fiction story of Japanese colonization of Korea from 1910-1945. During that era, many Korean patriots and freedom fighters were imprisoned, tortured, and executed at Seodaemun Prison. The prison was still in use until 1987, and even after the Korean War, during the rule of despot Park Chung-Hee, activists for democracy were jailed, beaten, and killed there. If it doesn't sound like a pleasant place to visit, you would be right and you would be wrong.

The first thing I noticed upon approaching the high brick wall around the prison was classical music coming from speakers all around the perimeter. With the lawn perfectly manicured and strains of orchestra music drifting about, I had the impression I was strolling through a park. But the museum exhibits and survivors' video testimonies were anything but lighthearted, and the stories of brutality made my throat swell painful with tears held back. On the bright side, nearly all the exhibits had English translations (perfect English, even!), the tour course was well-marked, and the buildings and grounds well-maintained. Take a look?

The Japanese built this tunnel to secretly carry out the dead bodies of prisoners.

One Seodaemun survivor, his face and one hand disfigured from torture sustained during colonization, said he was happy now "because the people of Korea are all happy." Judging from this picture, taken a hundred yards from the old prison, it would seem so.

Ants in My Pants

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.

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.

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. ;-)

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.

Our Family in Eldoret, Kenya

"Why are you doing this alone? Why don't you get others to help you?"

That's what my friend asked when I mentioned my intention to supply gospel literature for a church in Eldoret, Kenya.

When I first saw Pastor Lukas' plea for gospel literature on my uncle's facebook page, I immediately thought of my friend Shayna from way back in Kindergarten. Though I haven't seen her since elementary school, I knew she did some freelance design and printing of gospel tracts. With that connection in mind, I wondered if God had not specially equipped me to answer the call. Eight days later, thanks to Shayna's diligence and God's awesome, last-minute supply of money, 5000 tracts were designed and paid for in full. And 12 days later, all three 20-lb boxes of them were shipped to Kenya. Pastor Lukas and Evangelist Idimuli received the tracts with great rejoicing on January 31st.

Front and back of tract

Pastor Lukas (left) and Evangelist Idimuli

They distributed the tracts to the 80 members of their congregation...

...and watched their church grow to 220! Their hearts are so on fire for the Gospel, and they take it to everyone, from the crippled to those bound by demons and witchcraft. In one and a half months, they saw 800 souls come to Jesus.

These two women were delivered from demons.

Brother Idimuli anointed this woman's crippled legs with oil and prayed for her healing.

God strengthened her arms and legs, and she was able to stand for the first time in one year.

The church is now stretching the building's capacity and they're having to price iron sheets to build a new sanctuary. What a good problem!

But the reason I'm writing is not just to tell you a cool story or even to inform you about the incredible work God is doing in Eldoret, Kenya. It's to ask you to please prayerfully consider getting involved.

When my friend asked me why I didn't ask others for help, I knew the reasons: pride. glory. doubt. impatience. Pride at being self-sufficient, glory that I wouldn't have to share with others, doubt that others would step up even if I asked, and impatience to just get the job done and not waste time begging for help.

But the Truth is, I am not the Body of Christ. I am just one part of the Body. We together are the Body of Christ. And the work is not finished.

God has given Pastor Lukas an incredible vision for evangelism this year. He originally requested 20,000 tracts, but I was guided to provide just 5,000. That means we need up to 15,000 more tracts for this year, and he has also lifted a request for musical instruments to be used for worship. Their goal for 2012 is to reach and baptize 2,000 souls, and also expand into radio ministry to reach the three regional countries (Kenya, Uganda, and Tanzania). If you want to put your money where it will bear fruit, I can tell you God is doing some mighty work through this congregation.

The tracts are already designed and ready to be printed and shipped, as soon as funds materialize. Please let me know if God puts this on your heart. I have to say, one of the coolest aspects of this project for me, was seeing how God connected my childhood friend and I--separated by continents and 18 years of time--to serve Him together. I thought it was fun to be independent, but I learned--and am still learning--that it's much MORE fun to be part of something bigger than myself.

I pray that each of you reading this will dare to ask, "Who, me?" Because even if it's not this calling, it will be another. We each have a role in the Body of Christ. Let's do this together!

P.S.--Check out 2 Corinthians 9:11-15. I was amazed when I read it this week because it summarizes EXACTLY what I received through this experience.

Song of the Refugee

Joseph*, ready for his first day of middle school, comes back from the school uniform shop, navy suitcoat under his arm. He holds it out to his mom, who checks the sleeve length. She notes that the coat hangs down too far and the sleeves just fit. The "grandma" who'd been leading her in a Bible study reassures her, "The sleeves are just hemmed up really far. They make them like that so the kids can wear them three years and just keep letting the hem out as necessary." Mom looks pleased. This is a precious item of a quality they've not seen before. Joseph tries on the suit coat and models it for us. If my heart wasn't overflowing before, it is then.

For a long time I've wanted to work with North Korean defectors. The moment is a dream come true. I'm giddy with happiness and so is Joseph's mom. She keeps looking at the school supplies I brought along and fidgeting with the package of highlighters. I wonder if it's nerves or disbelief.

She's overcome with wonder and gratitude. How could this volunteer English teacher--and an American, at that!!--be sitting and chatting so amiably in her living room? It is completely unfathomable. Joseph confirms it: "In North Korea, I could never have even imagined having an American as my English teacher." His mom says they've been taught that Americans are to be despised and even pitied. She scoffs at the lies she's been fed all these years.

The pastor, who introduced us, keeps reminding her that I'm doing this because of my faith in God. I like to hear him make the direct connection between my faith and actions. Makes me feel less like an English teacher and more like a missionary. The mom nods but she doesn't know yet what this faith is all about. She never had a chance to learn about Jesus in North Korea.

*************************

The next week, it's just me, Joseph, and his mom. The pastor and grandma can't come, and I worry a bit about how we'll be able to communicate without their help. But by God's grace, we do just fine. It's like magic to me that my Korean key unlocks the door to North Koreans, too.

I teach her how to make spaghetti. The first week when I tried to explain what it was, she got excited: "Aha! It must be like ramen! We eat lots of that!" I'm amazed at how little they know of the Western world.

Joseph's mom pulls kimchi and anchovies out of the refrigerator. "We never had one of these in North Korea," she says. I follow her finger around the kitchen-- the microwave, the rice cooker, the water cooler. "I've had to learn how to use all of these machines since coming here."

Meat sauce with extra chili powder is simmering next to a pot full of boiling spaghetti. Surely she must have had a stove in North Korea. I gesture toward it and ask. "Goodness, no! We had to go to the woods and bring back sticks to make a fire. That's how we cooked every day."

I feel slightly shellshocked. I've seen many documentaries about North Korea, but the apartments in the films, although spartan, looked similar to the ones here. I mention this fact, and she explains that apartments like the ones I'm suggesting are only found in Pyongyang, the capital, and even then, only by the wealthy. I struggle to assimilate the new insight. Is there really such a primitive place so close to here?

We eat spaghetti around a floor table between the kitchen and living room. Joseph sits where he can see the TV, which is hemmed in by pictures of his older brother. His brother was lost in China, probably during the father's escape (the father came first), although I couldn't quite make out the story. Who knows if he's still in China, or if he's been caught and sent back to North Korea, or if he's even alive. What a heartache the mother must carry.

We finish dinner--they loved the spaghetti, by the way. The mom refuses to let me help with dishes, and so I take a seat next to Joseph in front of the TV. I look at the pictures next to it, painful and sobering...And yet, what's that I hear over the din of cartoons? Singing.

Joseph's mom is washing dishes and singing, merrily and loudly, uninhibited in my presence. I want to help her clean up, and yet, how precious this moment is. I relish it: Sitting next to Joseph, watching TV like old pals, and listening to his mom's cheerful song. The song of the refugee.

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Today when I arrive, it's just Joseph there. He's in his pajamas and doesn't bother to change. We sit down and start to study, and then the doorbell rings. I recognize the woman and her young son, and they join us at the table as we continue to study and play English games. The woman says it'd be nice if her daughter would come quickly so she could learn English with us. Curious about who this daughter might be, I ask if she's pregnant (?!). Negative. The daughter is 10 years old and in China. "Oh?" I wonder. "Did you come from North Korea too?" She seems surprised I didn't know.

Class over, Joseph pulls on some pants (right then and there--ha!) and the 4 of us go out for some kimbap. Joseph starts to ask about the U.S. "Is your house big?" he wants to know. "Yes," I say. "Is it really big?" I pause, feeling a bit awkward and yet wanting to be honest. I imagine it from his viewpoint: "Yes, it's really big. But--" I add, "It's cheaper than the apartments here." The woman's mouth drops open. She wants to know how food and clothing prices compare.

On the way back home, Joseph points to a wide 4-story building. "Are houses in the U.S. like that?" I assure him not. "Then how about most houses compared to mine? Are they two times as big? Three times as big?" I think for a second. "Five times as big." I regret saying it and wonder if it's not an exaggeration. Why did I have to be so honest and risk making him feel disillusioned with his own nice apartment? But he doesn't seem to be. He seems merely curious about the far-off land his teacher hails from, and I offer to show him pictures next time.

Joseph's mom is home when we arrive, face bright and smiling, like usual. She's thrilled with the post-it notes we've scattered all over the house, labelling furniture and appliances, doors and windows, with their English names. Joseph asks to play the English games again, and so we play matching and Bingo while his mom takes pictures of us with her phone and texts them to her husband. She's delighted and reminds Joseph, for the umpteenth time, that he has to study hard now.

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On my way home, I realize what makes me so happy to share time with them. I can't help but think they are a chosen people. Any refugees who make it safely out of North Korea (or any destitute land) must be a chosen people. It's literally a second chance at life. Certainly there are intense hardships for defectors here, and I realize that this happy stage they're in could be culture shock's initial high. But weaving among pictures of lost children, more obvious than physical scars, more lasting than malnutrition, there is a song being sung, joyfully and persistently, from the lips of the refugee. It is a song of hope and gratitude. A song that gives thanks for the second chance, the hopeful future, a song that is thankful for the gifts of today, for all the little and big graces that are completely bonuses.

Thinking about it now, we are also a chosen people. Before we knew Christ, we were dead in our sin, a slave to our flesh, and walking in darkness without hope for the future. But now that we know Christ, we are alive and free in Him, and we walk in the light with hope for eternity. In all our trials and suffering, I hope God will give us a song that rises higher and sweeter. A song that makes people realize without a doubt: "They are a chosen people!"

"But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy hation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light." -1 Peter 2:9

*Joseph doesn't even know I've given him an English name, and yet I chose one to protect his privacy and safety. I gave him the name Joseph because I hope in faith that, like the biblical Joseph, God has chosen him from among his brothers to come to this foreign land, to raise him to a position of influence, whereby he might help his brothers when the opportunity arises.

"Lord, I love You--help my lack of love!"

This week I've been asking myself what it means to love someone truly, and moreover, DO I? In Paul's first letter to the Corinthians, he spells out what love is. First, he makes it clear that there can be very noble-looking achievements or sacrifices--even so far as giving away everything you own and even your very life--withOUT love. Then he sums up the essence of love, which starts in the heart and moves outward.

In my life, I work backwards too much, making the outside look good before the inside can catch up. I clean the desk top but leave the drawer a mess; I keep my voice calm, while inside there's a tempest raging; I nod and smile agreeably to someone's face, then shake my head head and roll my eyes first second I get alone. Other people, I treat well because I should--they deserve it or it's my duty as a Christian. I don't feel like writing the letter, but I do; I don't feel like watching the kids, but I do; I don't feel like volunteering to wash dishes, but I do. Because that's love, right? Well, not necessarily. And at this, I feel a mixture of chagrin and relief. Chagrin because a lot of my so-called loving actions are empty at heart, and relief because I can't do it by trying--God has set us free from the Law.

I guess a lot of my "loving" actions are like the U.S. dollar, which no longer stands for its value in gold, but something more arbitrary, on its own, its market value measured against other currencies. My actions, no matter how kind and sacrificial, are as arbitrary and unstable as a piece of paper with "Love" inked across it, if they do not originate in a heart of love. It is the heart that gives value to the actions, and if the heart is right, the actions will naturally follow.

If I take an honest look at myself, my talk and my walk are about faith and deeds--which are good!--but I've neglected love--which is better! And not just better, but essential. I think I assumed that there wasn't much a person could do about their heart condition--their love, if you will--because you can't change your own heart. So I thought just entrust that part to God, and work on what you can. But when I started searching my heart, wanting to figure things out and make it right, I realized that one, it IS worth looking at our heart's condition--even if it means just praying for God to purify it--and two, I cared more about loving my friends well than I did about loving God well. I mean, when was the last time I spent my idle time pondering how much I love God, or praying for help to love Him more?

There have been times when I've wondered how to love a Divine God, but in the end I just brush off my questions and keep going on faith that God understands and it'll all work out. But what if I kept asking, "God, how can I love you?"--every day, in hard times throughout the day. It also dawned on me that I almost never say, "I love you" to God. People in serious relationships or marriage often want to hear those three little words, and I do not use them sparingly with others. So why with God? Perhaps it's a good place to start.

During this time of Lent, I'm glad to have a solid question to keep coming back to. Before Jesus ascended to heaven, he asked Peter three times: "Do you love me?" "Do you love me?" "Do you love me?" Jesus is asking all his modern disciples the same thing: "Do you love me?" It's time for me to shift my focus from bold faith to pure love. Pure love will naturally give birth to bold faith, but as we see often enough on the news if not in our own lives, bold faith without love can be quite an ugly thing. "And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love" (1 Cor.13:13). So, like the desperate father in Mark 9, pleading "Lord, I believe! Help me overcome my unbelief!",  here is my "text message" to God tonight: "I love You!!! (Help my lack of love!)"

"'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second [commandment] is this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these." (Mark 12:30-31)

헛되지 않은 삶

 “너무 심심하지 않아요?”라고 질문을 방학때 많이 들을 수 있다. 그런데 나는 언제나 이렇게 대답한다. “아니, 괜찮아요. 하루종일 공부해요.” 사실을 많이 과장하는 말이 아니다 (그렇지만 고백한 대로 페이스북과 스카잎에서도 시간이 많이 지나간다^.^). 다른 아기가 배우는 첫번째 단어는 보통 “엄마”인데 내가 배운 첫번째 단어는 바로 “책”이었다.ㅋㅋ 요즘 재미있게 공부하는 세 과제는 즉 한국어, 성경 말씀과 사회이다. 새벽기도 한 후에 한두 시간 또 자고, 다시 일어난다. 오전에 MBC뉴스 비디오 보고 비디오와 함께 나오는 한국어 자막을 보고 모르는 단어 약 50개를 사전에서 찾아본다. MBC 뉴스 통해 한국어도 배울 수 있고 한국 사회의 사건들도 알 수 있어서 좋다. 그다음에 문법 책과 듣기 책을 공부한다. 점심을 먹은 후에 커피 마시면서 한국 드라마를 본다. 영어 자막과 함께 나와서 너무 재미있다 (아마 드라마에 탐닉한가?^^;;). 그 뒤에 내션을 지오그래픽 잡지에서 한 기사를 읽고 영어 책도 읽는다. 저녁에는 한국 작가가 쓴 크리스천 시낭에 대한 책에서 몇 페이지를 느리게 읽고 밤에는 바로 잠을 자기 전에 생명의 삶으로 큐티하고 성경책에서 네 장을 서둘러서 읽고 기도하고 잔다.

아마도 이런 방학 생활은 어떤 사람에게 부지런한 유익한 삶과 같을 수 있다. 그러나 나는 “헛되고 헛되다. 모든 것이 헛되다”라는 전도서 1:2을 묵상하면서 나의 지금 살고 있는 생명의 방법을 의심한다. 헛되지 않은 삶을 살려면 어떻게 살아야 하지? 이제까지 나의 성격과 겁이 때문에 한국어를 공부하면서 책을 많~이 읽는데, 한국 사람들하고 너무 짧~게 말한다. 그러니까 한국어 지식은 많이 가진 편이지만 회화를 할때마다 말은 잘 안 나오는 것이다. 시낭의 삶도 이와 마찬가지인가. 한국어를 아무리 공부해도 다른 사람과 회화 통해 삶을 나눌 수 없으면 헛된 것과 같이 하나님의 말씀을 아무리 잘 알아도 하나님의 사랑을 나누지 않은 삶은 헛되다. 올해는 헛되지 않도록 모든 것을 하나님의 사랑으로 살기를 원합니다. 혹시 여러분 중에 누가 한영 회화를 연습해 보실래요?^^ 잘 못 하더라도 사랑으로 하면 헛되지 않을 것입니다.

This is my first blog post in Korean! After my pastor edited a few grammar mistakes, this article appeared in today's church bulletin. I originally wrote it in Korean but will translate it into English soon.