For the first time in many years, I was able to visit Korea for ten days. Sixteen years after immigrating, leaving behind my family and church to accompany my mother back to my hometown was a long‑awaited dream—an “outing” I had carried in my heart throughout my immigrant life. There had been many chances to go earlier, if only I had decided to. But perhaps I postponed those sixteen years because of a quiet belief that I should return home only after my life felt more settled—after I had matured as a woman and as a believer.
Yet the moment I stepped off the plane and onto the ground of Yeouido International Airport—filled with the breath and language of my own people—my heart fluttered. Everything felt precious and familiar. I even felt like the Pope who once kissed the ground upon arriving in Korea; I wanted to kneel and kiss the earth myself. As I embraced the faces I had longed to see, I wanted to tell them that because of them I had lived my best, and my life had been richer. Like cotton blossoms gathered into a single spool of thread, we were so precious to one another—yet we had allowed such distance for so long. All I could do was ask forgiveness.
While visiting different parts of my hometown, I traveled to Jeju Island. I was moved to rediscover how breathtakingly beautiful the mountains and fields of my own country are. The camellias blooming in full glory, the tangerine trees leaning over stone walls, the endless fields of yellow canola flowers—my soul felt as if it had been taken on a luxurious outing, soaring freely with the mountain wind. I realized how deeply longing shapes the human heart, and how the comfort of fulfilling that longing strengthens and beautifies us.
But even as the pink azaleas on the hills welcomed me with their fluttering skirts, I could not ignore the farmlands being filled in, the forests shaved down for ski resorts and golf courses—land groaning under the name of leisure. I found myself praying a quiet prayer of repentance for human selfishness, wondering how we would face the food shortages of the future. We need more than entertainment and industry; we need rest for the soul. Where will we find the quiet reflection, the solitude like a jewel, the gentle comfort of nature?
To have a hometown to long for, people to meet, and the chance to retrace the path of one’s life—this is a great gift of God’s grace given only to human beings. I was delighted to find a street vendor selling sweet red‑bean fish‑shaped bread and tasted it with nostalgia. I even insisted on taking the train so I could stand once more beneath the clock tower at Seoul Station—where a short‑haired friend and I had promised to meet at noon on the first snowfall. People still stood beneath that clock, clutching their bundles, anxiously watching the hands move as they waited for their own reunions. Thinking of the many separated families of North and South Korea who have waited decades for such a meeting, a sudden wave of sorrow rose within me.
There was no greater joy than reuniting with the faces I had missed for sixteen years. Those who had lived transparently still shone with clarity. Those who had chased empty dreams still wandered in them, hair now gray. Those who matured early in life were living steadily on the foundations they had built. As the saying goes, people continue living in the direction set by the first button they fasten in life.
During my travels, another longing stirred within me. Between the signs of tall buildings, the sight of a hamburger logo made me unexpectedly happy—more tempting than the soondae I had missed. And when I saw blond foreigners or Black travelers on the street, I felt a strange affection. For a moment, I was confused—was I the visitor from a faraway land? But soon I realized that Korea is not my only home. America—the land where my children were born and where their descendants will live—is also my home, my land, and my people. I now love two nations and two peoples, and my life has expanded in breadth and blessing.
This ten‑day journey was a precious opportunity to look back on my life and see my present place more clearly. Watching how quickly time had passed, I realized again how sacred time truly is. One day, when I return to my eternal home, I will look back on my life on this earth with longing and without regret. For the sake of that future day, I hope to let my life bloom like a clear, bright flower today.
참으로 오랫만에 열흘간의 한국 방문을 하였습니다. 이민온지 16년 만에 가족과 교회를 두고, 친정 어머니를 모시고 그리던 고향을 방문 할 수 있게된 것은 저의 이민의 삶 가운데 있어서 오랫동안 꿈꾸어 왔던 외출이였습니다. 진작 마음만 먹으면 갈 수 있었던 기회도 여러번 있었으나, 그동안 16년이라는 세월을 미루게 되었던 것은 내 인생을 좀더 정리하고, 여인으로 신앙인으로 성숙한 다음에 고향 땅을 찾으리라는 마음 속의 신화 때문이였는지도 모릅니다.
막상 비행기 트랩을 내려 고향 사람들의 숨소리와 언어가 가득한 여의도 국제공항의 땅을 밟으니, 가슴이 설레이며 어느 것 하나 반갑고 귀하지 않은 것이 없었습니다. 언젠가 교황이 한국 땅을 밟았을 때, 땅에 엎드려 키스하던 모습대로 당장 땅에 엎드려 키스라도 하고 싶었습니다. 보고팠던 얼굴들을 만나 기쁨의 포옹을 하면서 당신들 때문에 난 최선을 다해 살 수 있었으며 내 생애가 더 부유 할 수 있었다고 고백하고 싶었습니다. 목화 송이들이 모이고 모아져 하나의 실타래를 이루듯, 서로에게 얼마나 귀한 존재들 임에도 불구하고 그 긴 세월을 서로에게 소원했던 것에 용서를 빌수 밖에 었습니다.
고향의 이곳 저곳을 방문하던 중, 제주도를 방문했을 때는 우리나라에도 그토록 산천이 아름다운 곳이 있다는 것이 새삼스레이 감격스러웠습니다. 탐스럽게 피여진 동백꽃들과 집집마다 담장 밖으로 허리를 내놓고 서있는 귤나무들, 노랑색의 유채꽃이 만발한 제주도의 아득한 벌판에서 내 영혼은 호사스런 외출을 나온듯 산바람을 벗삼아 한없이 날아 만 갔습니다. 인간에게 그리움이 있고 그리움을 달랠 수 있다는 위로야 말로, 사람을 얼마나 강하게 하며 아름답게 승화시키고 있는가를 엿보게 하였습니다.
그러나, 고향의 산 언덕에 핀 분홍빛 진달래 꽃들은 그 고운 치맛자락을 펄럭이며 충만한 가슴으로 맞아주었지만, 곳곳에 매꾸어져가고 있는 논과 밭, 그 수려한 숲속을 스키장과 골프장등의 레저라는 이름으로 삭발당하고 뭉개진 채, 신음하며 몸살을 앓고 있는 땅덩어리들… 미래에 다가올 식량난을 어찌 대처 할 것인가 하는 염려로 나도 모르게 인간의 이기심에 대한 속죄의 기도를 드리게 되었습니다. 우리에게는 놀이와 산업 만이 아니라 영혼의 쉬임이 필요합니다. 자연으로 부터 공급 될 호젓한 묵상과 고요, 인생의 보석과 같은 고독, 자연의 정겨움과 위로를 어디서 찾을 수 있을까 하고 안타까움이 스쳐갔습니다.
그리운 고향이 있고 만날 사람이 있고, 그동안의 삶을 뒤돌아 보며 왔던 길을 되돌아 가볼 수 있음은 인간만이 가질 수 있는 하나님의 크신 은혜의 선물입니다. 저는 거리에서 구워 팔고 있는 단팥넣은 붕어빵이 너무 반가워 입맛을 확인해 보았습니다. 첫눈이 오면 서울역 앞의 시계탑 아래서 정각 12시에 만나자고 약속했던 단발머리의 동무가 그리워, 일부러 기차여행을 고집하고 서울역 앞의 시계탑 아래를 잠시나마 서성거려 보았습니다. 시계탑 밑에는 여전히 짐보따리를 손에 쥔 사람들이 그들의 또 다른 만남을 위하여 초조하게 시계를 들여다 보고 있었습니다. 얼마나 많은 남북의 이산 가족들이 이 시계탑 아래의 만남을 위하여 그 긴 세월을 참고 참으며 그날을 기다릴까 생각하니 괜시레 묵었던 슬픔들이 왈칵 쏟아져 나왔습니다.
16년이란 단절된 삶 속에서 그토록 보고싶었던 얼굴들, 열심히 살아온 이들과의 해후 이상 더 큰 기쁨이 없었습니다. 투명하게 살았던 이들은 지금도 밝고 빛난 삶을 살고, 허황된 꿈을 즐기던 이들은 지금도 머리가 허연 채로 허황된 꿈 속에서 헤메이고 있었으며, 일찌기 철들었던 이들은 나름대로 삶의 다져진 터전 위에서 최선을 다하여 살아가고 있었습니다. 흔히 말하는 삶의 첫 단추가 끼여진 대로 사람들은 오늘을 살아가고 있었습니다.
여행 중, 가슴 속에 일어나는 또 하나의 그리움이 있었습니다. 그것은 빌딩 숲의 간판과 간판사이로 보이는 햄버거 싸인이 반가워지고, 그토록 먹고싶던 순대보다도 햄버거가 더 입맛이 댕기는 것을 어쩔 수 없었습니다. 또한 가끔씩 길에서 눈에 띄는 노랑머리의 외국인들과 흑인들의 모습이 그토록 정겨워질때, 나는 이역만리로 부터 온 방문객이라는 사실에 잠시 혼란스러워지기도 했습니다. 그러나, 곧 내 속에는 이곳 만이 고향이 아닌, 또 하나의 고향! 나의 자녀들이 태어났고 그들의 후손들이 살아갈 미국이라는 땅덩어리가 이제는 낯선 곳이 아닌 나의 고향이며 나의 땅이며, 고향사람들 임을 발견케되었습니다. 그리고 이제는 두 나라와 두 민족을 사랑할 뿐만 아니라 내 생의 터전은 그만큼 더 크고 넓게 열려져 있다는 사실을 인정하며, 이런 삶을 갖을 수 있다는 것이 확실한 축복임을 알 수 있었습니다.
16년만의 외출. 그것은 내 삶의 행적을 뒤돌아 볼 수 있는 귀한 기회였으며, 나의 현재의 삶의 위치를 객관화 할 수 있었습니다. 그리고 그토록 빠르게 흘러간 시간의 존재를 보면서 시간이란 참으로 거룩 한 것임을 확인할 수 있었습니다. 언젠가 영원한 본향으로 돌아 가는 날, 이 땅에서의 삶을 후회함 없는 그리움으로 더듬을 때가 있을 것입니다. 그때의 또 하나의 신화를 위해, 오늘 하루도 맑은 꽃망울로 피어나야겠다고 소망해 봅니다.
My body trembled through the night with cold. My teeth kept time to their own hard music, and no waiting could quiet them.
It was Wednesday morning, the eighth of April. I had a brunch to keep with David, who brought my first book to birth, and Kenny, who gave it the grace of his good word.
So I drove down from New Jersey, seven hundred and fifty miles, as though the road were one long descent leading home.
And it was the morning too of my grandson’s hundredth day.
We met in gladness. I ate three great pancakes, with talk enough to sweeten every bite.
Then afterward the body raised complaint. It seemed as though Verdi’s Nabucco had opened in the room, and the Hebrew slaves were singing still for every soul bowed down by power, as Milan once was bowed beneath the Austrian hand.
And now this book, set down in print, goes out unclothed before the world.
Then heaven drew near when my wife and I held one another close, spending happiness as though it could not end.
I never knew a first book of poems, sent forth while one yet lives, could carry such fire and such cold.
Hello. How tired and busy have you been this past week? As our lives become filled with more and more things to do, how often do we find ourselves tossing and turning at night, unable to rest because of the tasks we couldn’t finish that day? When we look around at the women in our immigrant communities, we see so many truly remarkable people. Women who beautifully balance home and work—yet behind that strength, there is often hidden fatigue and inner struggle. Today, I’d like us to take a moment to reflect together on what truly brings women fulfillment and satisfaction in life.
As society has progressed, more women have entered the workforce, becoming economically independent and living with confidence and freedom. Especially among Korean immigrant families, it is astonishing to see how much women carry—managing vast responsibilities as mothers, wives, and members of society. Historically, women’s leadership and roles were suppressed or overlooked, but now, like blossoms on a tree, their influence is blooming throughout society. As a fellow woman, I cannot help but feel proud.
Yet behind that pride and brightness, we often encounter women who are exhausted—mentally and physically—from excessive burdens. Strangely, even with washing machines, rice cookers, and vacuum cleaners, the workload never seems to decrease. No matter how much laundry we do, it piles up again. The grass grows overnight, the flowers need tending, children must be driven to and from after‑school programs, and empty refrigerators must be filled. These tasks leave us with hardly a moment to rest. Mothers with young children, who cannot take their eyes off them even for a second, suffer not only physical fatigue but sometimes deep emotional depression.
When these tiring and tense days continue, unexpressed emotions build up and eventually spill out as irritation toward our children or husbands. When this happens frequently, it can lead to arguments and even become the starting point of family problems. Many divorced couples never imagined they would separate—yet their troubles often began with small, everyday frustrations.
Where, then, can women find their greatest sense of accomplishment? Times change, and what was once considered truth may no longer fit the present. But I wonder if any career or success can truly surpass the fulfillment of being a mother and a wife. A mother’s cheerful humming in the morning sets the rhythm for her children’s and husband’s entire day. Children raised in a home where a mother prays carry with them a sense of God’s guidance and protection throughout the day. Abraham Lincoln once confessed that his mother’s prayers always echoed in his life.
To faithfully carry out the responsibilities and heavy workloads entrusted to us, we must keep our bodies and spirits healthy. Yet how can we do that? Although we live in America with so many advantages and comforts, we often fail to enjoy them and instead fall into workaholism. Even now, parks and botanical gardens are bursting with colorful flowers, but our minds and eyes are too burdened to take in their beauty.
Sometimes, in our pursuit of achievement, we neglect or mishandle the process. For example, a family may sacrifice everything to build a business, only to find that while the business succeeded, the children went astray or the marriage fell apart. In such cases, the original goal becomes meaningless. When we become overly consumed by one task, we inevitably neglect others.
A woman’s mental and physical health is the health of the entire family—and even its future. Our values shape the values of the next generation, so it is crucial that we set the right priorities. There are many heroes and influential figures in the world, but the influence women have on the present and future is truly immense. God has given women many gifts and the space to use them freely. And as the world becomes more like a global village, perhaps true “super women” are those who move beyond narrow, individualistic thinking and live with a global, even cosmic, sense of community.
Jesus invites us—who are constantly rushing and burdened—to rest. He says, “Come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Matthew 11:28–29)
Modern women are often called “super women.” But what is the most important thing you and I must do first? If we feel pressured to join the ranks of super women by owning more, achieving more, consuming more, and exhausting ourselves more, then perhaps that is the true waste of life. What we need is rest in God. Through that rest, we can diagnose the ailments of our weary souls and correct the confused direction of our lives. In that rest, we discover the simplest joys and gain the wisdom to share life’s happiness with our families and neighbors.
안녕하세요? 일주일 동안 얼마나 피곤하고 바쁘셨습니까? 우리의 생활이 갈수록 해야될 일 들이 많아지고 저녁의 잠자리에 들게되면, 그날 다하지 못한 일들로 인해 평온한 밤을 이리저리 뒤척일 때가 있진 않으세요? 이민생활의 분주함 속에 주변의 여성분들을 돌아보면, 참으로 대단한 분들이 많이 계십니다. 가정과 직장생활을 양립하면서 멋지게 살아가고 계시는 분들, 그 내면에 숨어있는 피곤과 번뇌가 있지요? 이 시간 어떻게 사는 것이 과연 여성들의 성취와 만족을 더 할 수 있는지 함께 시간을 갖도록 하겠습니다.
먼저 찬양을 듣겠습니다. –
현대에 올수록 여성들의 사회진출과 함께, 경제적으로도 독립하여 삶을 자유롭고 당당하게 살아가는 여성들이 갈수록 많아짐을 보게됩니다. 특히, 우리 동포가정의 여성들을 보면, 참으로 놀라울 정도로 많은 일의 분량과 광대한 영역 속에서, 어머니로서 아내로서, 사회인으로서의 일을 감당하게되지요. 역사적으로 눌려오고 사장되어 오던 여성들의 지도력과 역할이, 나무에 꽃이 피어오르듯이 사회 곳곳에서 그 영향을 끼치는 것을 볼 때, 같은 여성으로서 자랑스럽기만 한답니다.
그러나, 그 자랑스럽고 밝은 이면엔 정신과 육신의 지나친 무리로 지쳐있는 모습을 대면 할 때가 있습니다. 이상하게도 세탁기와 전기 밥솥, 진공 청소기들이 있음에도 불구하고, 일의 양은 오히려 감수되진 않고 갈수록 많아지고 있는 것 만 같아요. 그토록 빨래를 해대어도 또 쌓여지는 빨래들과, 하루가 다르게 자라나는 잔디들과, 손봐줘야 될 꽃나무들, 아이들의 방과 후 프로그램에 데려다 주고 데려와야 될 일들과 비어있는 냉장고를 채워 놓아야 될 일들은 우리를 잠시도 쉬게 하질 못하고 있습니다. 특히, 한창 아기들이 어려서 잠시도 한눈을 팔 수 없는 어머니들은 종일 아기들을 돌보랴 육체적인 피곤 뿐 아니라, 때로는 정신적인 우울증에 몹시 시달리기도 한답니다.
이런 피곤하고 긴장된 날들의 연속 속에서 분출되지 못한 감정의 기폭들이 쌓이게되면, 엉뚱하게 자녀들과 남편에게까지 짜증으로 노출되게 되는 것을 경험케 됩니다. 이런 일들이 자주 있게 되면, 부부싸움이 되고 가정문제로 발단이 되는 과정으로 연결되기도 하지요. 이혼한 가정들을 보면, 아무도 이혼하리라는 생각을 해본 적이 없던 사람들이 소소한 일들로 인해 시작이 되더군요.
여성의 영역 중에서 가장 큰 성취점은 어디서 찾을 수 있을까요? 세대는 자꾸 바뀌어 가고, 과거의 진리는 현재에 맞지 않을 수 있습니다. 그러나, 여성에게서 어머니, 아내라는 성취를 능가 할 만한 일과 성공이 있을까 하고 생각게 됩니다. 아침에 어머니가 부르는 콧노래는 아이들과 남편의 하루에 리듬을 심어준답니다. 어머니의 기도가 있는 가정의 자녀들의 가슴엔 종일 하나님의 인도하심과 보호가 저들의 영역에 함께 하고있다는 안위함을 갖게 한답니다. 아브라함 링컨은 언제나 어머니의 기도가 그의 삶에서 늘 울리고 있었다고 고백하였답니다.
우리에게 주어진 책임들과 막중한 일의 분량들을 세밀하게 잘 감당하기 위해서는 우리 자신이 영과 육이 건강한 상태로 늘 준비가 되어있어야 하는데 어떻게 해야 좋을까요? 미국에 살고 있는 우리는 누구보다도 좋은 환경과 조건 속에 살면서도 그 모든 것을 만끽 할 줄 모르고, 일 중독 속에 빠져 살게된답니다. 지금 이 순간에도 공원과 식물원에서는 색색 깔의 꽃들이 앞을 다투며 꽃 잔치를 벌이고 있음에도 불구하고, 그 절묘한 향기와 아름다움을 볼 수 있는 마음과 눈이 거기까지 닿을 수 없는거지요.
우리가 일의 성취에 대한 목적 때문에 그 과정을 소흘히 하거나 함부로 할 때가 있지 않습니까? 예를 들면, 사업체를 일으키기 위한 오로지 한가지 목적으로 온 가족이 희생하다보니, 어느 순간에 사업은 성공했으나 자녀가 탈선해버리고, 부부사이가 불화로 인해 가정이 깨어져 버린다면 과거에 세웠던 일의 목적이라는 것이 물거품과 같겠지요? 육신이 한가지 일에 빠져 지나치게 피곤하면, 다른 일들에 대해 직무유기를 하게되지요.
우리 여성들의 정신과 육체의 건강은 바로 그 가정 전체의 건강이며 미래의 건강이라고 볼 수 있습니다. 또한 우리의 가치관을 어디에 두고 살아가느냐에 따라, 미래의 가치관도 달려있는데, 우리에게 있어 먼저 고려되어야 만 될 우선 순위를 정하는 일이 중요하다고 생각됩니다. 세상에 영웅들도 많고 영향을 끼치는 인물들도 만치만, 여성들이 현재와 미래에 끼치는 영향이란 실로 광대하다고 볼 수 있습니다. 그래서 하나님은 우리 여성들에게 많은 재능을 주시어 마음껏 발휘하며 살수 있는 영역을 주신 것 같아요. 특히 앞으로의 세계는 지구촌이라는 마을로 형성이 되어가고 있지요? 그래서 우리들에겐 개인만을 위한 편협 적인 의식세계에서 벗어나, 세계적이고 우주적인 공동체 의식을 갖고 살아감이 진정한 슈퍼 우먼들의 삶이 아닐까 생각해봅니다.
예수님께서는 오늘도 분주하게 달기기 만 하는 우리에게 휴식에의 초대를 하셨습니다. “수고하고 무거운 짐진자들아 다 내게로 오라, 내가 너희를 쉬게 하리라 나는 마음이 온유하고 겸손하니 나의 멍에를 메고 내게 배우라 그러면 너희 마음이 쉼을 얻으리라“(마태 11: 28-29)고 말씀하셨습니다.
현대를 살아가는 여성들을 슈퍼 우먼들이라고 하겠지요. 당신과 내게 있어서 가장 중요하고 먼저 해야 될 일은 무엇입니까? 오늘도 더 많은 것을 소유하고, 점유하며, 더 많은 소비와 낭비를 위해 스스로 슈퍼 우먼의 대열에 들어가야 만 한다면, 오히려 이것이 삶의 낭비가 될지도 모릅니다. 우리에게 하나님 안에서의 휴식이 필요합니다. 그 휴식을 통해, 나의 감염된 영혼의 병을 진단 받을 수 있고, 혼미한 삶의 방향을 바로 잡을 수 있습니다. 그 휴식 속에 가장 평범한 기쁨을 발견 할 수 있고, 삶의 행복을 가족과 이웃이 함께 공유할 줄 아는 지혜를 얻게됩니다.
A life lived with the Holy Spirit is one in which inner strength and joy well up continually, and in every moment you sense that you are no longer the one in control. Even now, God cherishes my existence—so small and insignificant—and pours out His Spirit, desiring to use me as His good instrument.
Last spring, I visited Korea for the first time in sixteen years. From the moment I arrived, throughout my stay, I experienced several profound moments of the Holy Spirit’s presence. After retrieving my luggage at Gimpo Airport, I got into a taxi. The driver, a man in his early forties, began sharing bits and pieces of his life story. I listened with interest, and soon he opened up about his family situation. With deep sighs and a sense of despair, he confessed that he no longer knew why he should keep living.
He explained that he had worked tirelessly—driving sixteen hours a day—doing everything he could for his wife and children, never once thinking of it as hardship. But recently, he discovered that his wife had been unfaithful. Now he felt no desire to work, and even when he did, he was filled with anxiety and anger, unable to find any joy in life.
As I listened, I quietly asked the Holy Spirit for wisdom.
“Sir, you’ve really done your best up to now, haven’t you?” “Of course!” “…But there is one thing you haven’t done your best in. You see, your wife needs the house and the money, yes—but there is something far more precious and necessary that you haven’t given her.” “I really did my best!” “No… your wife’s heart feels empty. In fact, every human heart is made with an emptiness inside. Sir, you don’t go to church, do you?” “…No.” “It’s not too late. For your wife, for your family, the most urgent and essential thing you can do as the head of your home is to welcome Jesus. If you do, your life will become more meaningful and joyful than before, and even the problems with your wife will be resolved.” “…To be honest, I’ve sometimes wanted to go to church, but because of work I never could. You seem like a very happy person.” “Of course! Before I knew Jesus, my heart was always empty, and I kept searching for happiness somewhere beyond the mountains. But after meeting Jesus, my daily life became joyful, and our family truly became happy.”
The driver nodded and his eyes softened with peace. I gave him a generous tip and, repeating several times, “Please meet Jesus,” I stepped out of the taxi. In that moment, I sensed how urgently God longed to save him and his family.
A few days later, I took my mother to a beauty salon before attending a wedding. After running an errand, I returned to pick her up. As I walked in, one of the stylists asked, “Would you like to get your hair done?” Caught off guard, I replied, “Well… I’m here for my mother, but… could you make my hair pretty?” Without any plan at all, I suddenly found myself sitting in the chair.
Amused by my own spontaneity, I watched the young stylist—probably in her late twenties—through the mirror. She wore no makeup, her face pale, and she seemed weighed down by sorrow. Sensing her heaviness, I gently said, “You look tired.” She gave a faint smile and whispered, “I’m okay.”
“How long have you been doing this wonderful work?” “About ten years. I’m sorry I couldn’t even put on makeup to greet customers… Two days ago, my youngest brother died in a motorcycle accident. He was the only son in our family after my parents had seven daughters…”
Tears streamed down her face.
“Oh… you’re in mourning. You’re remarkable—working even in such grief. Did your brother receive Jesus?” “No… my parents follow Confucian traditions.” “And you—do you know Jesus?” “Yes. My parents‑in‑law are pastors. I used to go to church because of their encouragement.” “He was twenty‑two, you said? He entrusted the rest of his life to you before he left. Now you must live the portion he left behind. Something in your life will need to change, won’t it?”
She nodded.
“I actually had no intention of getting my hair done today. I only stopped by for a moment. But I believe the Holy Spirit wants to comfort you. Shall we pray together?”
Holding the hands of a stranger, sitting in a salon chair with hair scattered everywhere and customers waiting, I prayed earnestly for God’s comfort. She wiped her tears and thanked me deeply, insisting she could not accept payment for the hair styling. As I embraced her tightly before leaving, I felt a deep affection—as though parting from someone I had known for a long time.
There is a hymn—Hymn 427—that says:
“Walking in the pilgrim way with joy each day, For the Lord’s own hand is holding me. The secret of receiving His great blessings Is that His Spirit dwells with me.”
I confess these lyrics as my own testimony of faith. Because I walk with the Holy Spirit, I can “walk the narrow way with joy day and night.” The Holy Spirit is not mine alone. He is God’s free gift to all who are baptized and forgiven (Acts 3:38). Today again, I pray to be filled with this Spirit and used as God’s instrument.
성령이 함께 하는 삶은 내적인 힘과 기쁨이 용솟음치며, 나를 주관하는 주체가 내가 아님을 매순간 느끼게 합니다. 하나님은 지금도 미물만도 못한 나의 존재를 귀히 여기고 당신의 영을 부으사 당신의 선한 도구로 쓰시기를 원하십니다.
지난 봄에 16년 만에 한국 방문을 하게되었는데, 그곳에 도착하는 순간부터 머무는 동안 여러번의 성령의 임재하심을 경험케 되었습니다. 저는 김포공항에서 짐을 찾아 택시를 타게되었는데, 40대 초반의 운전 기사 분이 이런 얘기 저런 얘기로 살아가는 이야기를 나누기 시작하였습니다. 저는 흥미있게 귀를 기울이고 있는데, 이 분은 최근에 일어나고 있는 자신의 가정 이야기를 꺼내더니 깊은 절망과 한숨 속에 삶에대한 회의 속에 왜 살아야되는지 모르겠다면서 격한 감정을 어쩌지 못하였습니다. 이야기의 내용인즉, 지금까지 자식과 아내를 위해 최선을 다하며 하루 16시간씩 운전을 하면서도 힘든줄 모르고 살았는데, 요근래 부인이 바람이 났다는 것이였습니다. 이젠 일할 맘도 나지않고 일을 하면서도 불안과 분노로 가득하니 살맛을 잃었다는 것이였습니다. 저는 운전 기사의 이야기를 들으면서 성령님의 지혜를 구했습니다. “운전 기사 아저씨! 지금까지 최선을 다하시며 사셨죠?” “그럼요!” “…그런데, 아저씨 한가지 최선을 못하신 것이 있군요! 사실, 부인에게는 집도 중요하고 돈도 중요하지만 그 보다도 더 귀하고 필요한 것을 드리지 못하셨기 때문이예요!” “…저는 최선을 다했어요!” “아녜요! 부인은 가슴이 휭하기 때문이예요. 아니 부인 뿐 만이 아니라 모든 사람의 가슴은 휭하게 만들어졌기 때문이예요. 아저씨, 교회 안나가시죠?” “…예” “지금이라도 늦지 않았어요. 부인을 위해, 가정을 위해 가장으로서 가장 필요하고 시급한 것은 예수님을 모시는거예요! 그러면, 전보다 더 보람되고 행복하고 부인의 문제도 다 해결될거예요” “…사실 교회도 가끔은 나가고 싶은 생각도 들었지만 일하기 때문에 나갈 수 없었어요. 아주머니는 참 행복한 분 같군요!” “그럼요! 저도 예수님을 잘 몰랐을 땐 마음이 늘 휭하여 산너머 행복을 찾아다녔거든요. 그러나, 예수님을 만나고 보니, 이젠 날마다의 삶이 기쁘고 우리 가정은 참으로 행복해요!” 운전기사는 고개를 끄떡이며 평안의 눈빛을 보내었습니다. 저는 운전기사에게 팁을 흡족하게 드리고 몇번씩 ‘예수님을 만나세요!’ 라고 다짐하며 목적지에서 내리게 되었습니다. 저는 하나님께서 그와 가정을 얼마나 긴급하게 구하시길 원하시는지 알 수 있었습니다.
또한 며칠후, 결혼식에 참석키 위해 어머니를 미장원에 모셔다 드린 후, 볼일을 본 후에 다시 어머니를 모시러 갔었습니다. 미용사 한분이 문을 열고 들어서는 저에게 “머리를 하시겠어요?” 하며 물었습니다. 저는 얼떨결에 “글쎄요, 어머니를 모시러 왔는데… 제 머리를 예쁘게 해보시겠어요?” 전혀 계획없이 의자에 그만 털썩 앉게되었습니다. 저는 속으로 저의 이런 행동에 재미있어 하면서 거울 앞에서 미용사의 얼굴을 가만히 엿보며 그녀의 동작을 보게되었습니다. 20대 후반의 젊은 여인인데 얼굴엔 전혀 화장기도 없이 창백한 모습 속에 왠지 슬픔이 가득해 보였습니다. 저는 그녀의 말없는 행동을 보면서 “피곤해 보여요!”하고 말을 걸었습니다. 그녀는 살짝 미소를 짓더니만 작은 목소리로 “괜찮아요”하였습니다. “이렇게 좋은 기술을 갖인지 몇 년 동안이나 되셨어요?” “10년 정도 됐어요. 죄송해요. 제가 화장도 못하고 이렇게 손님을 맞아서… 사실은 이틀 전에 제 막내동생이 오토바이 사고로 사망했어요. 그애는 부모님이 일곱 딸을 얻은 후에 얻은, 저희 집안의 장손이였는데…” 그녀는 눈물을 뚝뚝 떨어뜨리며 어쩌지 못하였습니다. “…저런, 상중에 계셨구먼! …참 훌륭해요. 그런 슬픔 중에도 일을 하고 있으니! …동생이 예수님을 영접했어요?” “…아녜요! 부모님이 유교시라…” “본인은 예수님을 아세요?” “예. 저희 시부모님이 목사님이셔요. 저는 그분들의 권고로 교회 만 왔다 갔다했었어요” “…동생이 22살였다고요? 그 나머지의 삶은 누나에게 맡기고 떠난거예요. 이젠 동생의 몫까지 누나가 살아야되는데 뭔가 달라져야만 되겠지요?” 그녀는 고개를 끄떡였습니다. “저는 사실 전혀 머리 손질 할 계획없이 여기 잠시 들렸을 뿐이였어요. 그런데 성령님께서는 당신을 위로하시길 원하시는 것 같아요. 우리 잠시 기도할까요?” 저는 생면부지의 여인의 손을 잡고, 온통 머리카락이 흩어져 있고 손님들이 기다리고 있는 미용실의 의자에 앉아 간절히 하나님의 위로를 위해 기도했습니다. 여인은 젖은 눈을 씻으며 너무 감사해 하면서 머리 손질 값을 절대 받을 수 없다며 정중하게 사양하는 것이였습니다. 저는 여인을 힘껏 안아주고 나오면서, 오랫동안 알고있던 사람과 헤어지는 것 같은 깊은 사랑과 정을 느낄 수 있었습니다.
찬송가 427장에 “내가 매일 기쁘게 순례의 길 행함은 주의 팔이 나를 안보함이요/ 내가 주의 큰 복을 받는 참된 비결은 주의 영이 함께 함이라” 라는 곡조가 있습니다. 저는 이곡의 가사를 제 삶의 신앙 간증으로 늘 고백하면서 성령과 함께 오늘도 동거하기에 “좁은 길을 걸으며 밤낮 기뻐하는 것”입니다. 성령은 저혼자 만의 것이 아닙니다. 세례받고 죄사함을 받은 누구에게나 거저 주시는 하나님의 선물입니다.(행3:38) 오늘도 이 성령이 충만하여 하나님의 도구로 쓰임받기를 기도합니다.
One of our deacons was recently hospitalized to undergo surgery for a women’s health issue. A certain deaconess, who had always been close to her, took the entire day off from work so she could accompany the deacon to the hospital early in the morning. Not only that, she earnestly asked fellow church members to pray for her. Watching her comfort the deacon’s family, carefully checking what the household might need, and standing by them as a strong and dependable guardian—it was truly moving and trustworthy.
When the pastor praised the deaconess for her warm and thoughtful heart, she humbly replied, “What good is it even if I stay by her side? I can’t take away her pain, not even a little.” It was a truly beautiful expression of humility.
People often complain that everyone around us is too busy and exhausted with immigrant life to enjoy anything. Yet when we look closely, we see a community that drops everything to help one another in times of trouble. It is deeply heartwarming.
We remember the tragic bombing of the Oklahoma City federal building last year, where countless lives were lost, including the precious children in the nursery. Even today, the fences surrounding the remains of the collapsed building are covered with cards, letters, flowers, and even teddy bears—tokens of remembrance and comfort from citizens. Love that rises from the ashes—pushing through destruction, pain, hatred, and resentment—is something no one can stop.
When even the nearby Methodist church was damaged by the blast, Jews and Muslims joined forces across denominational lines to help rebuild it. This revealed the greatness of the human spirit hidden within us.
Although our Korean community is sometimes criticized for being divided, we can also see many signs of maturity. On July 7, at the Christian Broadcasting Network’s Sacred Music Festival held at Carnegie Hall, the united dedication of Christians was truly something to be proud of. Small churches joined together to participate as one choir, while larger churches poured their hearts and strength into preparing their music. There was no trace of tired, overworked immigrants—only the overflowing beauty and holiness of human devotion toward God. The passion and Spirit-filled singing of the churches that came all the way from Korea moved the audience into a deep well of grace. One pastor who traveled that long distance despite visa difficulties emphasized that they came “to fulfill the unity of brothers.” The joy and pride of the believers who had long supported Christian broadcasting with prayer and generosity reached its peak with the grand chorus of “Hallelujah.”
We may feel as though we live alone, but we are one united body. Just as beads are strung together into a necklace, just as small bricks build a great building, just as pieces of a vast puzzle come together, brothers and sisters hold hands, laugh and weep together, and move toward wholeness day by day.
“How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity. It is like precious oil poured on the head, running down on the beard, running down on Aaron’s beard, down upon the collar of his robes. It is as if the dew of Hermon were falling on Mount Zion. For there the Lord bestows his blessing, even life forevermore.”
The unity of brother with brother, nation with nation, race with race—this is the purest and most beautiful expression of humanity on earth. In unity we find the source of abundance; in unity we find forgiveness and understanding; in unity we find each person’s uniqueness, character, and freedom. Only within our unity can we discover the diversity, beauty, and perfection of God.
Today, I send respect and love to all who strive, pray, and give their best for unity—within families and individuals, workplaces and businesses, churches and denominations, organizations and communities. Crossing the valleys of differing thoughts, ideologies, and beliefs is lonely and difficult. Yet we, too, walk this great path of unity, remembering that unity begins in the closest places and with the smallest acts. And so we welcome this beautiful day.
어느 집사님이 부인병으로 병원에 수술을 받기 위해 입원하게 되었습니다. 평소에 그 성도님과 가까이 지내시던 권사님께서는 집사님이 수술을 받으러 가시는 날, 아예 직장을 쉬고는 집사님을 새벽 일찍 병원에 모시고 가는 일 뿐만이 아니라, 교우들에게 간절히 기도 부탁까지 잊지 않으시는 것이였습니다. 집사님의 가족들을 오히려 위로하며 그 가정에 있어야 될 것들이 무엇인지 소상히 살피며 곁에서 든든한 보호자가 되어주는 것을 볼 때 참으로 고맙고 믿음직했습니다.
목사님께서 권사님의 자상하시고 따듯한 마음에 칭찬을 하자 권사님은 오히려 겸손한 태도로 “제가 아무리 곁에 있어도 무슨 소용이 있겠습니까? 아픈 사람의 아픔을 조금이라도 덜어 줄 수 없는걸요!” 참으로 아름다운 모습이였습니다.
우리 주변을 가만히 둘러보면 모두가 이민 생활에 바쁘고 피곤해서 살맛도 못 느끼고 산다고 푸념들을 하지만, 실상은 서로를 돌보며 곤경에 빠졌을 때, 만사를 제쳐놓고 도우며 살아 가는 세상임을 볼 때 여간 흐믓한 일이 아닙니다.
지난 해에 있었던 오클레호마 시의 주정부 청사 테러 폭발 사건때 수 많은 생명들은 물론이요, 너서리에 있던 어린 생명들 까지도 목숨을 잃는 가슴 아픈 일을 기억합니다. 지금도 그 상처의 흔적이 남아있는 무너진 주 정부 청사 건물 주변에 쳐있는 철조망에는 그날의 슬픔과 아픔을 기억하고 위로하는 시민들의 카드와 편지, 꽃, 심지어는 테디 베어 인형들이 오늘도 철조망을 장식하고 있는 것을 봅니다. 파괴와 아픔, 미움과 원망을 헤치고 잿더미 위에서 피어나는 사랑의 꽃들은 그 누구도 말릴 수 없는 것입니다. 그 주변에 있던 감리교회까지 폭발 피해를 받게 되었을 때, 교파를 초월한 유대인들과 이슬람교들이 힘을 합하여 감리교회를 다시 재건 시킨 모습은 인간 안에 숨어있는 위대한 정신을 말하는 것이였습니다.
우리 동포 사회가 단합하지 못하고 사분 오열한다는 비판적인 평가도 받지만, 전혀 그렇치 않은 성숙된 모습을 발견 할 수 있습니다. 지난 7월 7일, 카네기 홀에서 있었던 기독교 방송 성가 합창제에 보여주었던 기독교인들의 헌신적인 연합된 모습은 참으로 자랑스러운 모습이였습니다. 작은 교회들은 작은 교회들 끼리 힘을 모아, 함께 성가 합창제에 참석을 하고 큰 교회는 큰 교회대로 온교우가 심혈과 정성을 다 쏟아 성가를 준비한 것입니다. 거기엔 시간이 없고 피곤에 지쳐있는 동포들의 모습이라곤 전혀 찾아 볼 수 없이, 하나님을 향한 인간의 숭고한 아름다움과 거룩함이 열정적으로 가득 넘치을 뿐이였습니다. 특히, 멀리 한국 교회서 참석하셨던 교회들의 열성과 성령충만한 합창은 청중들을 은혜의 도가니로 몰아 넣었습니다. 함께 참석하셨던 목사님은 그 먼길을 비자 발급 문제로 어려움을 격으면서도 달려 온 것은 ‘형제의 연합’을 이루기 위함 임을 강조하셨습니다. 평소에 기독교 방송을 사랑하고 기도와 물질로 형제의 연합을 솔선수범하여 나서던 성도님들의 기쁨과 자랑은 ‘할렐루야’의 대 합창과 함께 절정에 오를 수밖에 없었습니다.
우리는 홀로 사는 것 같으나 연합된 하나의 몸입니다. 목걸이의 구슬이 꿰어지듯이, 거대한 건물의 작은 벽돌들이 쌓여 지듯이, 광대한 그림의 퍼즐이 맞춰나가 듯이 형제와 형제가 서로 손을 마주 잡아주고 함께 웃고 울면서 온전을 향해 날마다 나아가는 존재입니다.
“형제가 연합하여 동거함이 어찌 그리 선하고 아름다운고 머리에 있는 보배로운 기름이 수염 곧 아론의 수염에 흘러서 그 옷깃까지 내림 같고 헐몬의 이슬이 시온의 산들에 내림 같도다 거기서 여호와께서 복을 명하셨나니 곧 영생이로다”
형제와 형제의 연합, 민족과 민족의 연합, 인종과 인종의 연합은 이 땅에서의 인간의 최상의 순수함이며 아름다움인 것입니다. 연합 속에 풍요의 원천이 있고, 연합 속에 용서와 이해가 있고, 연합 속에 서로의 독특함과 개성, 자유가 있습니다. 우리의 연합 속에서 만이 하나님의 다양하심과 아름답고 완전하심을 발견할 수 있습니다.
오늘도 가정과 개인, 직장과 사업, 교회와 교단, 단체와 단체의 연합을 위하여 애쓰며 기도하며 최선을 다해 달려나가는 분들에게 존경과 사랑을 보냅니다. 생각과 사상, 이념의 골짜기를 넘는 일은 외롭고 험난합니다. 그러나, 우리도 그 위대한 연합의 길에 함께 나선 이들로, 연합은 가장 가까운 곳에서, 가장 작은 것에서 부터 시작 함을 기억하며, 이 아름다운 하루를 맞이합니다
In the closet of my life are many hats—blessings gathered through the unusual life of being a pastor’s wife. For decades I cherished one particular hat, wearing it with pride. But one day, when I was forced to take off the hat I loved most, I found myself sinking into confusion and despair.
Yet the Creator of all things—the Master Designer of my life—had already decided to reshape me from the inside out. He redesigned, refitted, and restitched my life, clothing me with the garment called pastor’s wife.
An immigrant church’s pastor’s wife needs many hats: driver, babysitter, cleaner, receptionist, secretary, counselor, Bible teacher, cook, radio evangelist… But I did not understand why I had to wear so many. “God, I cannot take off my own hat! I don’t want this! Please let me live my life my own way!” For nearly fifteen years, this was my cry. But the Master Designer patiently waited as I wandered through confusion, despair, and inner conflict.
– Escape –
Though I was born into a Christian home, even as an adult I treated faith not as a core calling but as an optional subject. In that state, I met a seminary student whose inner beauty, vision for the world, and noble character—rare among men—captivated me. I married him without the slightest understanding of what kind of life he would live, or how my own life would be transformed. I was naïve.
For several years after marriage, I lived a disguised life, trying to be someone everyone would welcome. I soon realized that church members’ expectations of a pastor’s wife were impossibly high: gentle in demeanor, talented in every area, and spiritually comparable to the pastor himself. But I knew nothing about church work. On Sundays I wore mini-skirts and outfits more suited for Myeongdong in Seoul, drawing the disapproving glances of elderly churchwomen. And the expectation that I attend early-morning prayer, all-night prayer, and live a holy, exemplary life was unbearable.
At first I thought, Why should it matter what I wear or do? Why must I live differently just because I’m a pastor’s wife? But as time passed, life itself became exhausting. Faith felt like an iron chain binding my soul and body so tightly I could hardly breathe.
I grew resentful that I could not freely enjoy the world like others. Depression crept in. My worldly dreams and ambitions mocked me: the glamorous fantasy of becoming “Yoon Wan‑Hee, the world’s greatest fashion designer.” My soul grew sick and weary.
Whenever I prayed, I cried—not out of gratitude for God’s grace, but out of resentment. “God, it’s unfair! I didn’t choose this life!” Though I was a pastor’s wife, spiritually I was fragile, passive, and dependent—first on my mother’s faith, then on my husband’s. I believed that simply holding onto my husband’s coattails would earn me a first‑class seat to heaven.
– Infancy –
On December 2, 1980, our family immigrated to America with our three‑year‑old daughter. My husband hoped to continue his theological studies; I secretly dreamed of becoming a world‑famous fashion designer.
When he entered Drew Theological Seminary, I naturally had to support him—doing hand‑sewing at a dry cleaner, washing dishes in a nursing home, cleaning, working, raising our second child. I didn’t feel tired; I believed that once his studies were finished, my time would come.
After he graduated and was ordained in the New York Conference, he received his first appointment to an American Methodist church in Coxsackie, upstate New York. We had been in America only three years; I barely spoke English, and there were no Koreans anywhere. For a city girl, those three years felt like exile. I couldn’t understand the English sermons, couldn’t connect with people, and felt trapped in a glass box. I could hardly breathe.
But in that loneliness, God gave me a friend—writing. Writing opened an inner world for me. The short story and children’s tale I wrote for the first time in my life were selected in a newspaper’s New Year’s literary contest. Looking back, I see that God was preparing to use even this foolish, wandering heart.
My husband also felt spiritually stifled and suggested we begin early‑morning prayer. For six months we knelt on the wooden floor before dawn, praying. Then one morning, God sent Frank Hoffman, a Jewish man who had converted to Christianity. He said the Holy Spirit had urged him to join us as he passed the church each morning.
The next week, a young man named Neil Irwin came out of curiosity—and soon joined us daily. Prayer took root. Word spread to seven churches in the town—Catholic, Reformed, Pentecostal, Congregational, Presbyterian, African Methodist—and soon more than forty Americans gathered every morning to pray and sing. Denominational walls fell, and so did the invisible walls of language and culture.
The power of early‑morning prayer was astonishing. Lives were reordered, churches revived, and people said a spiritual awakening like the one a century earlier was happening again. Frank became a lay minister; Neil, once a fourth‑grade dropout, earned his GED, graduated college, entered seminary, and is now a pastor leading a thriving church. I witnessed God working beyond race and culture.
– Childhood –
Years later, my husband was appointed to an American church in Queens. Soon after, he felt called to start a Korean congregation inside the church for my newly arrived family. “A church plant? Why? Isn’t one church enough?” I strongly opposed it, but he insisted.
I had once pitied pastor’s wives in immigrant churches, thinking their lives looked miserable. Now I was carrying a rice cooker to church every Sunday just like them. I was building a business, pursuing my dreams, and suddenly my life felt like it was collapsing.
Our “Korean church” consisted of my mother, my sister, and the two of us. On Sundays, watching my husband preach passionately to three people as if to a thousand made me resent him deeply. And the endless services—early‑morning prayer, Wednesday service, Bible study, English service, Korean service—left me exhausted and despairing. What about my dreams? My plans? My life? I felt cheated, trapped, and hopeless.
At first, I was relieved that no one came to the church. I thought, Eventually he’ll get tired and give up. But slowly, compassion grew in me. A church without members—how pitiful we must look. Yet even after six months, not a single person came.
At home, conflict grew. I had to help with the homeless ministry and thrift shop at the American church, while juggling work and endless services. Nothing brought joy. I felt foolish sacrificing my youth for others. “God, this is unfair! My husband vowed to serve You—not me! Why must I suffer too?” My depression deepened.
– Adolescence (A Change of Regime) –
One evening, a Catholic youth leader came unexpectedly to our home. My heart sank. He spoke with my husband about our daughter. She was thirteen, and we had noticed she was losing interest in school. But we never imagined what he told us: “I feel like dying these days… and the Methodist pastor’s daughter next door is trying to kill herself too.”
I was shocked. When I found her, her wrists were covered with deep cuts. She sobbed, “Ever since we moved here, you and Dad never spend time with us. You’re always fighting. I don’t want to live.”
God used my child to show me myself—just as He used foreign oppression to bring Israel back to Him. No matter how good life seems, no parent can bear losing a child.
I realized it was all my fault. My husband walked the path of God’s calling, but I kept searching for another road. Recognizing one’s sinfulness before God is a great grace. I saw that I was unfit as a mother, immature as a wife, and unworthy of the title “pastor’s wife.” My constant wish to die was a grave sin.
Psalm 51 became my day‑and‑night cry: “Have mercy on me, O God… Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.”
One dawn, as I prayed, the hymn “I Know That My Redeemer Lives” filled my soul. The second verse— “To sanctify me wholly, His purpose will be done”— gripped me completely. Ah, this is it. He called me to make me holy. A veil lifted from my soul, and new life entered.
I realized how foolish I had been to believe material comfort could bring peace. Christ Himself came to me—no longer an idea or a picture, but the living Lord—clothing me with His own garment, touching my weary back with His nail‑scarred hands, wearing a crown of thorns as He embraced my tears, fatigue, complaints, loneliness, and inadequacy. “Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me.” I saw in His eyes the same compassion He showed the woman at the well. And I laid down my cherished hat before Him.
I felt deep sorrow for my husband, who had prayed so earnestly for me. His ministry finally felt precious. Repentance is a change of regime—the overthrow of sin’s rule. I resolved not to become the pastor’s wife people expected, but the daughter of God He had saved.
That very Sunday, three women walked into our church—our first members after six months. Their faces looked like the face of God to me. One soul became more precious than the whole world.
– Youth (Founding the Korean‑American Women’s Mission)
A few weeks later, those women brought others—women from broken bicultural marriages, women suffering from mental illness, abuse, and hardship. Their cries pierced my soul. In August 1990, ten of us founded the Korean‑American Women’s Mission.
Through it, God worked powerfully—connecting hurting families, visiting AIDS patients, women in psychiatric wards, and Korean youth in prison. We delivered “baskets of love” and prayed for restoration.
One unforgettable case was Mrs. Kim, whose Haitian husband practiced Voodoo. He slept with “spirit women,” refused marital life, and their marriage was collapsing. But he came to Christ. We removed every charm and idol from their home and car. I will never forget how this giant of a man trembled in fear as we tore down the objects that had enslaved him.
– Adulthood –
After serving seven years in the American church in Queens and planting a Korean congregation there, we were reassigned to Lawrence Korean Church. When we arrived, we faced two major prayer burdens. First, many members were spiritually wounded and discouraged. Second, because the American congregation sharing the building was rapidly growing, the Korean church was being asked to leave. Except for Sunday worship and Wednesday service, we had almost no access to the building and could not carry out any meaningful ministry for the Korean community.
My husband and I prayed with two petitions before God. First, if God desired for us to build a sanctuary, we would move forward in faith. Second, if God wanted the funds set aside for building to be used instead for 21st‑century mission work, then He would provide us with a sanctuary we could use.
Waiting for God’s answer was a long and difficult season. We felt like eagles trapped in a cage, unable to fly. The district superintendent helped us search for possible locations, but nothing was suitable. Every dawn we prayed for a sanctuary, and afterward we drove around looking at church buildings, synagogues, and warehouses—yet nothing opened. After morning prayer, we would visit nearby churches, large and small, and envy them deeply. In the empty parking lots of churches we loved, we knelt and cried out:
“Lord, we have nowhere to go! Either allow us to use this sanctuary, or give us the means to build one. Please help us!”
We felt pitiful. Through this, we came to understand—deeply and painfully—the longing Israel had for the temple.
My husband set aside three days each month for fasting prayer, entrusting our two petitions entirely to God’s leading. On Sundays, when he left for the retreat center with only a sleeping bag, water, and a few belongings, my heart ached. After he left, I would kneel in the empty room and cry out:
“God, why must we go through this?”
Two years passed with no sign of a building project and no suitable place to move. It was a time of complete silence. Then one Wednesday evening, my husband announced that to resolve the sanctuary issue, he would begin a 40‑day fast in the fall.
“Forty days of fasting?” My heart dropped. A terrifying fear of death swept over me. If we stay in this church, we may not survive. I felt utterly alone. Is my husband abandoning his wife and children for God’s work? People die during 40‑day fasts—what will happen to us if he dies?
On the way home after service, I could not speak a single word. As soon as we arrived at the parsonage, I went to the basement and wept uncontrollably:
“God, I am so lonely! I am so afraid! My heart hurts!”
For four hours I cried—more deeply than ever before in my life. I learned that a person can indeed weep that long in anguish. My husband came down to comfort me, but seeing my state, he simply prayed silently beside me for a long time and then quietly stepped away.
It was the first time in my life that I stood alone before God—without leaning on my mother’s prayers, my husband’s comfort, or the encouragement of my children. It was a night of utter loneliness and brokenness. Yet as I poured out my pain, fear, and despair before God, the Holy Spirit lifted my discouraged soul little by little, filling me with comfort and peace.
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in Me.” (John 14:1)
The next morning, with swollen eyes, I was cleaning the house—sweeping away the clutter of my heart—when the phone rang. The caller introduced himself as Pastor Searfoss, the senior pastor of St. Mark’s Church, saying he wished to meet with my husband.
“St. Mark’s Church?” I could hardly believe my ears. For sixteen years, our church had repeatedly asked to share their building and had been rejected twice. Even our most recent request had gone unanswered for over a year, and we had given up hope. After a night of storm‑tossed anguish, it felt like the radiant sun was rising. Hope flooded my heart through that single phone call.
From that moment until the pastors met, I fasted and prayed earnestly that nothing would hinder God’s work.
On February 7, 1996, at 10 a.m., the two pastors met and agreed to pursue a joint Easter service as the first step toward shared use of the building. But we knew the real challenge lay ahead: St. Mark’s leadership meetings, congregational votes, committees, and boards. For a long‑established, upper‑middle‑class white congregation, welcoming a Korean church was no small decision.
Our entire congregation entered forty days of prayer and fasting. Our prayers for a sanctuary were desperate and sincere.
In the end, by God’s gracious power, everything worked together for good. Not a single member was lost, and our church moved into the new sanctuary. It felt like an eagle bursting through an open door into the sky.
On April 7, 1996, our two churches held a joint Easter service and became one body in Christ. The St. Mark’s members, whom we had feared might not accept us, opened their beautiful Norman‑Gothic sanctuary to us with genuine love. I know how difficult and sacrificial their decision was. They offered us the building their ancestors had cherished—not with hesitation, but with Christ’s perfect love.
Strengthened by their love, our church moved forward with great vision for the 21st century, and God added daily blessings of growth.
“For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; He will lead them to springs of living water, and God will wipe every tear from their eyes.” (Revelation 7:17)
Looking back now, I must confess how stubborn and foolish I was. Yet God, in His grace, enabled me to fulfill the calling of a pastor’s wife to the end. He blessed our family with three children who walk with us in ministry. Our eldest daughter, now a college sophomore, received her calling at fifteen and hopes to become a missionary. She volunteers as a counselor at a suicide‑prevention center for teens.
Today, I am proud and joyful to be a pastor’s wife. God called an unworthy sinner and never abandoned me, even in my wandering. I continue to serve as the general secretary of the Korean‑American Women’s Mission, founded in 1990, and I support my husband’s ministry. For three years I wrote a devotional column, “Letters from the Parsonage,” for New York KCBN Christian Radio, and now I host a program called “In the Forest Where the Window Opens” on Radio Korea. I also help publish our church newsletter and Lenten devotional booklets.
Seeing how God has accomplished all things—“I can do all things through Him who gives me strength”—I know these works are entirely His.
My vision now is to continue recording the “Acts of the Spirit” written through the lives of our congregation, leaving a testimony for future generations.
I offer my love to my mother, my parents‑in‑law, and my husband—my spiritual leader and teacher—who prayed for me with tears. And I thank the church members who continue to support this still‑imperfect pastor’s wife with love and prayer.
My former dreams were empty worldly things, but God led me into the holy work of redesigning human lives. Today, as I look at the many hats in the closet of my life, I boldly testify that God desires to give such gifts to anyone.
I now love and cherish the “pastor’s wife’s hat” that God, the Master Designer of my life, crafted with His own hands. And I humbly add my confession to Paul’s:
“Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.” (Philippians 3:12) Amen.
Daily Sauntering 
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