The Soul Of Seoul, South Korea

Me at the DMZ (Korean Demilitarized Zone)

We were three that were invited guests of Pastor Kim in Seoul, South Korea. I had never visited this country, so I was excited about this new missionary adventure. Our hosts, Pastor Kim and his wife, were most gracious in receiving us. This trip was grueling, with daily meetings that would last late into the evenings. We stayed in a hotel that was in an industrial area in Seoul. The trip was in 2005, but our Korean friends made sure we had all the modern amenities. Our rooms were equipped with Internet and a computer, which I used to keep in touch with family and friends back home.

From the schedule, I knew that the days were jam-packed with meetings and prayer sessions, so I would get up early to walk around the vicinity of our hotel. I’d carefully check the surroundings and mentally make notes of landmarks so that I could find my way back to the hotel. One problem was that I stuck out like sore thumb and got unusual stares. People would greet me with a bow and I’d follow suit. I really had no idea of the culture, nor had I done any studies of the religious demographics of Seoul. I did this walking for two days until the   head our of the ministry, Joanne, found out about this practice and gave me a stern warning about Americans getting kidnapped.

Our hosts brought us breakfast each morning, and it was enough to feed a large family. We had fruit and breads and our hosts would stick around to make sure we ate. Our communication consisted of nodding heads in agreement and being cordial. We felt obligated to eat more than enough so as to not offend our hosts. On days that we ministered late, pizza was delivered to our room, individual medium size accompanied with regular Coke. Even though I used the hotel stairs for exerscise I still packed on five pounds.

Other than Pastor Kim, and his assistant Sara, no one spoke enough English to communicate with us, and when they were not around, it was smiles and saying yes over and over again.

Our outreach was ecumenical to Christians who were eager to hear the Word of God. We were there to support our ministry leader, as she was the person the Koreans wanted as their special guest.

We would meet in odd buildings, climbing winding staircases. At the front door was a sea of shoes, and we were handed slippers to wear and piled our shoes with those of the rest of the congregants. These people were precious and wanted to learn more about the Lord, so  they lined up for prayer after every meeting. It was a powerful time because they were hungry for the Word. We would rise early, get ready, and go to a new location with new believers. This would be an arduous routine everyday, so it was only by the grace of God that we were refreshed for the the next assignment.

As we were introduced to other bigger churches there were more interpreters available, so we helped with praying. This was thirteen years ago, and Joanne was already in a wheelchair due to arthritis in both knees, so she really felt the fatigue.

Seoul Apartment housing

On our rides from one meeting to another I would look out the window from the back seat of  the car and see the massive high-rise apartment buildings, where most Koreans  live. We’d pass lush parks with rivers flowing through them; this is how I saw Seoul.

The message to the Koreans was always to encourage them to remain steadfast, as many of them were new converts. All new believer must learn to depend on God in all circumstances.

Once we drove for about an hour to minister to pastors, the room was filled with about 200 preachers with their wives. Joanne was on fire when she ministered to them, and many received prophetic words of encouragement. God used us in an supernatural way because we never understood a word of Korean and many of the people of Seoul did not speak English, but we were connected spiritually in the language of God.

Me and young South Korean soldiers at the DMZ
Pastor Kim with his team and our group on the bridge at the DMZ

We took a one day off to drive to the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone) to pray for the peace of North and South Korea. The drive was beautiful, with farms most of the way, and out of nowhere, lone  five story apartments for the farm workers. The higher altitude terrain was a dense forests of evergreens, and the stoic summer air gave a hint of sweet pine.

When we arrived, we headed toward the bridge, where you could stand and see both countries. We prayed on the bridge with our hands extended toward North Korea. The South Koreans are always in fear of war with their neighbors, and over the years this fear has only escalated.

I never  got acclimated to the food, because  it was way too spicy for my palate. On one special evening some of the pastors treated us to a fancy Korean restaurant. At the entrance were all the shoes of the patrons, including women’s designer shoes. The food was fine until the spices met my taste buds and the battle of putting on a gracious face while coughing and downing in a gallon of water to say “too hot! Too hot!” brought loud laughs from our hosts.

According to the Pew Research Center the percentage of Christians in South Korea has increased from 1% in 1990 to 29% currently. I praise God that we were used to bring the Word of God to our friends in South Korea.

We met up with Pastor Kim several years later in Istanbul, where he planted a new church and we ministered with him. We are still in contact with Pastor Kim, who was recently in the United States to finish a degree in Divinity.

Isaiah 55:10-11 New Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (NRSVCE)

10 For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
    and do not return there until they have watered the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
    giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
11 so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
    it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
    and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

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Lent on Valentine’s Day


Celebrating Lent New Orleans style, the Big Easy

LENT

Our family from New Orleans embraces Lent in grand style.  Schools are closed for a week during Mardi Gras. Parades are held throughout the week with people on floats, wearing masks, tossing beads to huge crowds. Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday in French) is in full swing, but after the party the masks come off. We are now entering into the the most holy of holidays for Christians, Lent.  We are to be in an attitude of repentance, and a solemn state of mind. Our churches will reflect this by not having flowers displayed during Lent. No Gloria or alleluias are sung during this season because it is a time of great loss (The Passion of Christ). On the fifth Sunday of Lent, sacred images are draped in purple as a remembrance of our sense of contrition. During this time we are called to prayer, penance, and almsgiving. We celebrate Lent in remembrance of Jesus being tempted for forty days in the desert by Satan. Forty is a significant number, because it represents testing, ending in victory.   The most important element of Lent is drawing us closer to Jesus through the Passion.

I struggle with giving up certain foods for Lent. This year I’m praying that I can get past a week of what I’m sacrificing. In the past, fasting came naturally, and many times I could fast for up 10 days. Now, just one day is a huge challenge. I remember that when I fasted, if I got past the third day, I knew that I’d gotten over the hurdle, and it felt natural to continue with the fast. I am asking God to help me with fasting during Lent. There are so many vices that I need to rid myself of that I can only accomplish this through the grace of God. Last year I gave up bread and sweets, but fell short. Lent is a time of a  deeper knowledge of God, and I pray that my sacrifice will honor Him.

I will be distributing the ashes at the 6:15 A.M. Mass, making the sign of the cross while saying, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

 

Valentine’s Day

Me, Helen, and Leslie; together we have 119 years of marriage

We have dinner reservation at a popular steak house on Valentine’s Day, a conundrum brought on by the convergence of Lent and Valentine’s Day falling on the same day. We are to abstain from meat on Ash Wednesday, but I guess our husbands kind of forgot. Our reservations are at 5:30 for two reasons: some of us are old, and that was the only time available.

Willie, Mike, and Larry

Mike will be receiving a new pair of socks with a red background as his gift for Valentine’s. As you can, tell I am not the romantic one in the family. I’m a true believer of “it’s the thought that counts.”

 

1 John 4:19 New International Version (NIV)

19 We love because he first loved us.

What a perfect order,” We love because he first loved us.” We need Jesus to navigate us into what true love is all about.  Valentine’s Day is meant for expressing our love,  Jesus is the author and finisher of our faith and only He can fulfill the void in our heart.

Prayer:

Dear Lord, I thank you for the love you have for us; allow us to be in your presence during this holy season of Lent. Teach us to love as you love. Amen

 

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Oh Jerusalem

Mr. Bob, the Roman Soldier, Tori, my nephew as Jesus
Cathryn, Robert, Natalie, me and Vi, and Mr. Bob in Ephesus

Though we have traveled to Israel for years we  are foreigners to both the Israelis and the Arabs when we visit Jerusalem. Israel has the strictest guidelines  when entering their country. The authorities are trained to pick certain passengers in groups to scrutinize. Mr. Bob, always stood out because he was well over 6′ tall, and a lanky chain smoker. He had messy white hair, and always wore the same old work boots with white tube socks which  had no elastic to hold them up.  Mr. Bob had money but no desire to invest in anything worldly. He always traveled with just a carryon. Sometimes we would travel on trips of more than two weeks, but that did not matter to Mr. Bob because he was completely satisfied with his attire.

Our leader Joanne always travels with a lot of luggage, and she often asked Mr. Bob to carry her luggage like it was his. At the airport in Israel, the security personnel usually unlocks and checks all of our luggage. When Mr. Bob’s luggage was unlocked, all of Joanne’s personal belongings were exposed. with Jewelry, women’s tops, etc., it was pretty evident that this stuff did not belong to Mr. Bob. Joanne had already cleared customs and was on the safe side of the airport. I was behind Mr. Bob and watched the whole thing go down. The airport security asked Mr. Bob if it this was his suitcase. “No!” said Mr. Bob. I knew that this was going to be a long, drawn-out ordeal. “Did you pack this suitcase?, they asked Mr. Bob. “No!” he said. Mr. Bob was pulled aside for the shakedown. I just watched for a few minutes and then intervened to explain the truth. Once you get through customs in Israel you can take a deep sigh of relief.

We know the routine, in which we ask that our passports not be stamped when we land in Israel. We do this because if is difficult to travel to other Middle Eastern countries if you have an Israeli stamp. The customs personnel always ask questions as to why were are in their country. We tell them that we are missionaries. Things have changed and are more high tech, so now each of us is handed a copy of part of  his or her passport photo ID. Travelers like us need this paper to visit Bethlehem and to leave Israel.

Our ministry’s work in Jerusalem is to reenact the carrying of the Cross down the Via Dolorosa on Good Friday. I will never forget what happened to us a few years ago. Someone forgot to pack Jesus’s wig and the stage blood. The night before Good Friday, we always have a rehearsal to make sure that all participants in the pageant are aware of their parts. When our group leader, Joanne asked about Jesus’s wig and stage blood, we all looked at each other with great fear. Someone dropped a really big ball and forgot to pack it. That night I was assigned the task of checking everyone’s suitcase for the blood and wig, but no one had either. It was early Good Friday when one of the women traveling with us who wears wigs, and she offered to sacrifice one of her wigs for Jesus (literally). One problem was that  it was a blond wig. We needed hair dye, but it was a Jewish holiday so their stores were closed. Caleb, a longtime Arab friend of the ministry, heard of our dilemma and offered to help. “I have a cousin who owns a beauty shop just down the street,” he said. There was no time to waste so Jim ( team member) and I jumped into Caleb’s old car and headed down the road, with Caleb trying to sell us jewelry during the whole trip.

Above the Mount of Olives gift shop was Caleb’s cousin’s shop. The shop was filled with Arab women getting beauty treatments. The women did not take kindly to our intrusion, which was a culture faux pas. Caleb did all the talking, and for $6 we left with a container of brown hair dye and a brush for applying the dye. When we arrived, Joanne nervously yelled,  ” This is not enough!” Jim and I had to return to the beauty shop, but this time Caleb was not around. We ran up and down hills for perhaps over a mile. We walked into the shop and the atmosphere was cold with the air being thick with anti-American glares. I start to explain that we needed more hair dye. A strange woman got up from her chair and started yelling at me. I could not understand one word, but I recognized that it was not a welcoming speech. Her black eyes and wet hair looked eerie. My intent was to get the hair dye because the retribution back at the hotel would be worse than this attack. Caleb’s cousin was no longer friendly, and she too wanted nothing to do with helping us. Using my hands to express my desperate need, I pleaded with her to please make us more solution. Again, the other creepy woman tried to talk her out of it. I knew Jim was praying because Caleb’s cousin finally agreed to help us. As she handed the solution to us she said it was now $20. For just a few seconds I wished I could speak Arabic so that I could give her a piece of my mind, but we did not have a minute to waste. We did not bring any extra money so we had no cab fare, and therefore  had to run back to the hotel.

The stage blood was another drama that we had to handle. In the kitchen of the hotel, Victor (team member) and I  got together with some of the waiters and cooks to figure out how to make blood. The only ingredient they had was something that resembled Kool-aid. We mixed it with water but it looked too watery . We kept adding more of the red dye until it slightly clumped up; that was all we could do.

By the time the bus arrived to take us to the Via Dolorosa, I was exhausted. I applied the fake Kool-aid on Joseph, a man from Croatia who was playing the part of Jesus. Joanne was so upset because the took on the color of pink with red. We did our best and saved the day, because we came to do our work for the Lord and nothing was going to hinder our calling.

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