In the past, a common saying in Korea was, “What can a woman do?” I’m not sure whether people still use that expression now, fifteen years after leaving Korea, but the phrase itself seems to deny a person’s very existence. Spiritually, too, it feels deeply misguided. Throughout history and society, women have often been marginalized and regarded as weak. Yet when we look closely, even in times when women were pushed aside or silenced, it was often their unseen dreams and prayers that quietly moved the world.

A few days ago, I received a phone call from a woman who had immigrated here years ago and shared her faith journey with me from her very first day in America. “How have you been? I’ve missed you and wondered about you, but somehow I never managed to call!” Her clear, bright voice immediately told me how her life must be these days.

“Mrs. Yoon, he’s changed! Now I can go to church freely, read the Bible at home, and sing hymns without fear. Sometimes we even talk about faith together, and when he has time, he comes to church with me. He’s taking interest in the children too—he even bathes the little one sometimes. I think he’s finally beginning to understand God’s presence and the importance of family. Sometimes he even thanks me. I’m so happy now—I don’t need anything more. Thank you for praying for us!”

When she said, “He’s changed!” I couldn’t believe it. “Really?” I asked again, and tears of joy suddenly filled my eyes. Changed? Ah—people can change. Yes, people cannot do it, but our Lord can.

After hanging up, I sat for a long time, overwhelmed. I myself had once thought, “Anyone but him—he’ll never change.”

About five years earlier, this fragile-looking woman had arrived in America with her two young daughters to join her husband. Her in-laws and her own parents had urged her to come, believing she should no longer live apart from her husband, who was constantly abroad for work. “Mother, I’d rather live with my in-laws than with my husband,” she once said. “No matter what, he is your husband and the father of your children. Go, and try to build a happy life,” her mother insisted. And so, half willingly and half unwillingly, she immigrated with her children.

Before marriage, she had been drawn to the man’s handsome appearance and seemingly manly character. But after the wedding, that “manliness” turned into violence. Day and night, he tormented her. She later learned he had been a notorious neighborhood thug. She regretted her marriage, but it was too late. Knowing their son’s rough nature, her in-laws cherished her more than their own daughter and comforted her constantly. She felt safer with them than with her husband.

One day, her husband abruptly packed his bags and left to work overseas. During his occasional visits to Korea, he seemed even more distant and harsh. She tried several times to divorce him, but each attempt failed.

As expected, when she arrived in America, their reunion was like water and oil. After years of living alone abroad, her husband was exhausted in body and spirit. He lashed out at his wife and children, repeating the violent patterns of the past. The children, who had hoped for good things from meeting their father, began to avoid him the moment he came home. She wanted to work like other people, but he refused to allow it.

In the midst of this turmoil, she found one place that gave her comfort, peace, and courage: the church. Realizing that the Lord was with her, she knelt before God and poured out her pain and frustration. Once, she had thought of church merely as a place to show off new clothes. Now it became the place where she met God.

But whenever she returned home filled with joy, her husband would shout, “Why is a woman wandering around uselessly?” and throw her hymnals and Bible outside, tearing them apart. Even the dishes she had brought from Korea were smashed until almost nothing usable remained.

Yet Christ’s image had already been engraved on her heart. She realized that “pleasing Christ” meant not giving up on her husband but loving him to the end. With the fire of love in her heart, she became persistent and strong—so strong that at times she seemed almost foolish. She filled her wounded heart with praise, strengthened herself with Scripture, worked diligently, and remained cheerful and sincere in everything she did.

Finally, on the unshakable rock of her faith, the rough, wounded man—who had never received healing for his inner brokenness—found true love and a place of rest. She had won a quiet, holy victory.

“What can a woman do?” Reflecting on that phrase through the lens of faith, I give thanks to God for the countless dreams realized through the footsteps of women who moved the world by faith. Women may still be seen as weak, but the love and prayers of women who carry the fire of Christ in their hearts can heal a wounded soul, restore a broken family, and open the way to a strong and hopeful future.

— Yoon Wan‑Hee, June 12, 1995