I know it has been a long time since I last updated, but I return with wonderful news! To make things a little more interesting, let's go back to sophomore year in high school--summer of 2003.
TFPC's Sr. High Ministry was once again preparing to go to Mexico--another trip that I would not be able to participate in. The skits, the body worships, the group times...I wanted so much to be a part of it all. In the end, I learned the role of a sender, and most importantly, that we are always called to be missionaries in the current circumstances of our lives. It's not, "When I get this, or learn that, then I'll go". Instead, we should continuously ask God, "What can I do right now? At my home, amongst my friends, at school/work, with strangers?" We can't and shouldn't wait to bring glory to God. It should be intertwined with every aspect of our daily lives. Yes, easier said than done. But that's where the Gospel and the constant reminder and application of it comes in, right? =)
Anyway, so here I am. Exactly five years after..preparing myself to go to mission. Not to Mexico, but to Brazil. Quite honestly, I did not think that my first time retuning to Brazil would come in the form of missions. A part of me says, "What better way than this?"..yet another says, "But...what about picking up the pieces for myself?" I've had reoccurring dreams of returning to Brazil, and spent countless days picturing how that would unfold. Would I go back with my brothers? Where would we go? Could I find the friends I haven't spoken to in over 10 years? Could I finally face the reality without breaking down? But all these questions are no longer applicable. Well, maybe next time-- but definitely not this time around.
Training at first was very difficult to the point that I almost gave up. Doubts cluttered my mind, and my body continuously failed to prove how strong it was. But God is good, and He is always faithful. It was as simple as that, being humbled with the reminder of His love, power, and might. Someone once said something so true, "We say we trust God. So then why do we pray for no rain, and take an umbrella the next day, just in case?" Even though that's a silly example, we do tend to say we trust in God and rely on ourselves or the resources surrounding us. The tangible..the visible...all of which are constantly changing. Quite often, I find myself feeling dumb--not because I don't know enough, but because I catch myself making the same mistakes. And yet, through that, I'm reminded of how much God must love me...even though I foolishly make the same mistakes over and over again. That is patience. And that, is unconditional love.
So this summer, I will be going to Brazil. In all, my heart screams with excitement, and I've already experienced so much that I can't quite imagine or grasp the extent of the blessings God has in store for me. I know that this will be a time where I come face to face with my sins, battling each and every idol, pride, and self-righteousness that exists in my heart. But I also know that this will be an amazing opportunity, and I give thanks and pray that through it all, my heart may become just a little more like His...that my thoughts and desires may become just a little more like His...that my life will become just a little more like His.
Please pray continuously for me, my team, and the people of Brazil. I also have support letters with specific prayer requests, so PLEASE, e-mail me your address (angelicakim@gmail.com) if you want one ASAP. We leave at the end of this month, so hurry hurry! And if you want to hear even more specific details about our trip (because the support letter is rather short), then feel free to e-mail me or call, and I'll be extremely happy to share.
So the conclusion? His timing proves perfect, once again. =)
First of all, I must apologize for not keeping my word about the photoblog entry. Quick and stupid question: how do you turn pictures sideways permanently? I tried to post some photos up, but they're not upright. I guess this is what happens when I fall behind technology. Anyway, I will talk to my tech-savvy friends this weekend and hopefully get the photos up as soon as possible.
Meanwhile, Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I am running very low on sleep right now (specifically 2), so forgive me if I make no sense. I spoke on the phone with Lori last night, and I was telling her how I've finally come to appreciate the beauty of this holiday. Some of you may secretly scorn me for saying that, but I realized that this day is filled with so much love. I mean, it's one day when we're specifically celebrating romantic love. I swore to myself that my future boyfriend and I would never partake in this holiday, but come to think of it, I change my mind. Ha..ha. But really, sure we (future bf and I) can celebrate our love for each other anyday, but Valentine's Day is when ALL the people in love celebrate their love for each other TOGETHER. I'm probably just stating the obvious yet again...but this sudden awareness sort of tripped me out.
Finally, I want to post a video of an artist I've stumbled upon recently, and have totally fallen in love with some of her songs. You can check her out at www.myspace.com/kinagrannis, and if you're over 21, you might still be able to buy tickets to her performance at Hotel Cafe this weekend. Otherwise, I will write soon with a clearer train of thoughts. Until then,
Message From Your Heart
"This is a message from your heart Your most devoted body part Taking blood and making art This is a message from your heart Pounding away into the dark You could thank me for a start This is a message from your heart."
These Magnet Hearts
"The other night when we laid together in the dark I placed my head upon your chest to hear your heart I tapped it out, Morse code rhythms on the bed Did you know that I understood each word that it said.
Just to be back lying in your arms Feeling home again and sure inside your warmth I would relive all of the waiting For these magnet heart, they can't be kept apart."
Currently Watching Little Children By Kate Winslet, Patrick Wilson, Jennifer Connelly, Gregg Edelman, Sadie Goldstein see related
So I just quickly have to share a blog I read a few days ago. This guy apparently went shopping for his wedding registry, and found this amazing table!
Hahaha is this neat or what! Unfortunately the guy's fiance did not think so, and did not let him add it to the wedding registry. Hahah poor guy. Imagine the practicality of having such a table- you could be enjoying a cup of tea with your significant other, and if a thief happens to waltz in, you'd be totally prepared. Unless he's armed of course. Wow, wouldn't it be cool if the shield was bullet proof?! Haha okay, I'm done with the bat-shield table. But really, makes one wonder why someone didn't come up with this earlier.
I am so very tired today, but before I go, let me share a quote I thought was heartwarming from Little Children.
"We're all miracles. You know why? Because as humans, everyday we go about our business, and all that time, we know, we know that the things we love, the people we love...at any time, it can all be taken away. We live knowing that and we keep going anyway. Animals don't do that."
Dr. Phillips looks at his crooked clock that hangs on the wall and sees that it is still too early to retreat to his bed."Another endless day..."
He is sitting on his brown leather sofa that has creases running from all corners. In front of him is a small coffee table, stained with liquids he cannot identify. Mr. Phillips looks down at his feet, both which are covered with socks with holes. He cannot remember the last time he wore a new and clean pair of socks and underwear. Mr. Phillips walks over to his liquor cabinet and brings out a bottle. Quietly he whispers to himself, "This is the reason they left..."
He walks back over to the sofa, placing the bottle of liquor and shot glass upon the stained coffee table. First shot. He is no longer sitting in his lonely home, but at a place far away. Mr. Phillips is walking back to his apartment, eager to see his two children- Carol and Jim. The streets are empty, except for the few other drunks singing off tune and also on their way home. He doesn't know exactly how to interact with his children, and has even more difficulty expressing his undying love for them. What, or better yet who, is to blame? His mother's early death? His father's constant absence while growing up? His guilt for his brother's near death accident? He is no longer on the streets, but banging on the door. "Why must you enter in such manner? Can't you hear your own children running away to their rooms?" He knows it all, but his arms no longer allow him the right of control. "Carol! Jim! Come here, RIGHT NOW!" Mr. Phillips yells out to his children. "Fred, please- the children have to go to school tomorrow." Mrs. Phillips begs. "BRING THEM OUT!"
Minutes later, Carol and Jim walk out of their perspective rooms, rubbing their eyes and shielding them simultaneously from the bright light. They already know what is to happen next- Carol will play the piano while Jim gives his father a massage. Orders are no longer necessary, and both the children take their place. Carol plays her father's favorite tune, while Jim goes over to his father who is now lying on the floor. Once the tune is over, Carol is to play the same song again- this time making sure to add forte and pianissimo at the correct parts. Mr. Phillips knows that his children hate him for waking them up at two in the morning. As much as his heart breaks to see Carol falling asleep on top of the piano, and Jim's hands losing strength with each grip, he knows no other way to be near his children. Mr. Phillips swore as a child, that he would rather have his children hate him than have no feelings towards him at all. That was how he had felt toward his father, and even at his death, Mr. Phillips couldn't help but feel as if a stranger had passed away. "I know this is difficult, but when I'm gone, at least you'll feel something."
A tear falls on his cheeks, and Mr. Phillips opens his eyes to find himself once again in his lonely house. He recalls how at one point, it had been filled with laughter from the children, Christmas tree decorations during the holidays, and much more color. Everything looked dead- almost as if the furnitures had taken their final breath. Mr. Phillips pours himself another glass, his second shot. He is taken aback for a moment, until he realizes that he has his hands wrapped around his wife. He is shoving her in the shower screaming at her and saying that she smells. What had happened? It takes him a few minutes, until he recalls the fight that he's partaking. Correction- the fight that he had started. It was a Sunday mid afternoon, and all the guests had left after the barbecue. He had asked his wife to fry him a couple of eggs. "You're drunk. Go to sleep, the kids are waiting outside for me. I have to take them to the mall- I promised them." was her response. "What, can a man not even enjoy a couple of drinks without having to hear all this nagging from his wife?!"
Mrs. Phillips was walking away, hoping to avoid another fight. Her bruises from the previous week were still in the healing. As Mr. Phillips watched his wife ignore him and walk away, he could feel his anger rising. So he grabbed the eggs and threw them at her. Not one, not two, but half the carton. Mrs. Phillips began screaming at the top of her lungs, telling him that he was crazy and needed to be institutionalized. Mr. Phillips began laughing, almost hysterically. He grabbed his wife and shoved her in the bathroom, where he turned on the cold water and made her wash herself. "You stink woman, STINK! Wash yourself! You stink!"
By now, his children had come inside. They were standing on the hallway, afraid to go nearer but also worried for their mother. Mr. Phillips turned off the faucet, and pulled his wife by her hair. She was screaming frantically, trying to scratch him and hit him to let her go. The more she resisted, the harder the blows. Finally, Mr. Phillips held her by the neck on the living room floor. He called out to Jim, "Bring me the kitchen knife. I'm going to kill your mom right now. She doesn't need to live, she has no respect for me. BRING ME THE KNIFE!" "D..ad...d...add!" his children pleaded for their mother's life. Mrs. Phillips could barely breathe, and Mr. Phillips kept on screaming at his son to bring the knife.
Just at that moment, a siren began to approach their house. One of the neighbors must have heard all the screaming and called the police. Mr. Phillips, in shame, goes inside his apartment and reports that it was just a small domestic fight, while he watches his wife and daughter being taken away. Jim is left behind with his father, but Mr. Phillips knows that even his son wishes to be away from him.
His face is now wet. And once again, Mr. Phillips finds himself alone in his house. How had his life ended up this way? He loved his wife and children more than anything in the world- and yet, he had been the cruelest to these same people. Mr. Phillips reached for the calendar on the floor, the one where he had made countless marks. Sophia's birthday. Jim's birthday. Carol's birthday. Sophia and my wedding day. My birthday. As each of these dates approached, he had hoped that maybe a phone call, a letter, or even a note, would somehow inform him of any news about his family. Last he heard, Sophia had taken the children to another country. He should have known this would happen. He should have known...
Mr. Phillips looks down at his coffee table, and sees that he has already emptied five bottles. "When did this happen...I only had two shots..." He recalls that after a certain point, his body no longer allows him any control. With tears streaming down his face, he goes to the restroom to rid himself of the lonely feeling that dries every drop of blood in his body. It is almost tangible, the feeling of oxygen leaving his cells...
He is now gasping for air- is this all in his mind? He cannot tell- his body won't allow him any perceptions. He reaches his head high, as far as he can, hoping that somewhere up there, he'll find cleaner air to breathe. But he cannot...
The next morning he wakes up in his bed. His brother must have come by. Mr. Phillips now feels oddly at peace- his room looks whiter than ever, and his mind is overflowing with beautiful memories. The day he met Sophia in front of the school steps, the day he proposed to her, their first child's birth, their second child's birth, the family's annual trip to the ranch, the days when they had a nice meal at home...
With each memory, a tear rolled down his cheek. It did not sting his face, nor did it break his heart. It did, however, help him close his eyes, heart, and life, with a smile.
On new year's eve, a friend asked me what my resolutions were. My mind went blank and I found myself having a difficult time coming up with even one- buy a car? lose weight? read more books? I think my response was to spend more time with my brothers, and though I hope I do, I don't feel as if that's all there is to it. Making a list of resolutions have ceased long ago. For some reason coming up with concrete goals every new year eventually wore me down. And I was always a firm believer that if you want a change to occur in your life, it's never too early to get started on it. Why wait until January 1st, why not May 14 or October 9?
But this year, it was a little different. This one simple question continued to linger around. So I decided to come up with one for old time's sake. I sat down, got my sketchbook ready (who said there can't be writing in there), and began thinking about what would be written first. Putting something next to 1. usually implies that it's the most important- top dog priority type of things. So one can only imagine the pressure. My solution? Skip down and start on 3. 4. 5. Halfway through making my list, I couldn't help but realize that most of the things I had written didn't truly reflect what I wanted. What does that mean? Surely a part of me wanted what I had written, but mostly it included things that I thought were expected of me by others.
The year 2007 really tore me apart. I constantly felt like I was battling two worlds. My mind was a mess of thoughts spread all around with some creating a pile of their own, others gathering dust in the corner, and still others just shifting positions too quickly. Imagine walking into a room where you can't see the carpet because it's completely covered by old laundry, books, papers, CDs, you name it. A mess.
So I decided that with all that tearing and swelling, the thing I needed to work on most was balance. A fine balance between what is expected of me from everything outside with everything inside of myself. Here it goes:
a. (letters seem to decrease the pressure of order, hence I will be using them instead) girls aging is somehow equivalent to her readiness to find a husband in my family. Ever since college my mom's curiosity about my romance has increased significantly. We used to joke about this topic, but now she's saying how men will run away when they see me carrying grocery, or by my loud voice, or how I dress, or or or or. I do understand that she means well, and that no man wants to date another man, but what she (and my Korean aunts) want is to change me completely. And finding a good balance between, yes becoming more ladylike, and still remaining true to who I am is one thing to work on.
b. involvement in humanity. This is such a broad topic, so I'll cover only one aspect of it. I wanted to do so much last year, but with such limited time and resource as a student I fell far short of my own expectations. Solution seems simple: do what you can with what's available at present (e.g. www.kiva.org). Saving the world is a big ambition, and I've come to realize time and time again that it can make a person apathetic. You lose hope and feel like there isn't much you can do, and in my case that lead to unconscious stress. And really, helping and stress should not go hand-in-hand. Helping and challenge, maybe.
c. just like psychologists are obsessed with saying, "not nature vs. nurture, but their interaction" so too goes with faith, "not grace vs. law, but their interaction". Yesterday I visited DiVine and was both challenged and encouraged at the same time. The message brought a sense of peace, not because it was something warm and fuzzy to hear. On the contrary it was, as Pastor Daniel mentioned, something most of us don't want to hear. We don't want to admit to the fact that we pick and choose what is relevant and what isn't to our life. But if we can't accept and admit we're weak, what exactly are we searching for then? "Free people need the law"- I think this will do for now.
So next time someone asks me what my new year's resolutions are, I'll have to say Equilibrio. Hopefully they have the time and some loose change for coffee- because it'll be one long conversation. Happy New Year everyone!
To make things a little more interesting, let's go back to sophomore year in high school--summer of 2003.
I guess this is what happens when I fall behind technology. Anyway, I will talk to my tech-savvy friends this weekend and hopefully get the photos up as soon as possible. 
