At our church, we share a fellowship meal of love every Friday evening. Even though it is late, the members finish their day’s work and hurry to the sanctuary, where they sit together around the table, sing hymns, and listen to the Word of God—the manna of life. Then, with simple bread or crackers shared with water or juice, we honestly speak about our failures and victories as Christians throughout the week.

It is never easy to look back on one’s week as a Christian and share openly with courage. When we confess the times we failed to live as salt and light in our daily lives, we ask one another for prayer for our weaknesses and sins. We confess before God that we are all sinners, and we reaffirm that God alone is our strength and power.

One deaconess was the first to open her heart wide. “I almost didn’t make it here tonight, but I’m so glad I came,” she said as she began to share what had happened that day. She and her husband run a dry-cleaning business, and it was the day they raise the annual wages of their employee who works the press. Her husband had already decided on an amount—so generous that it startled her—and asked for her thoughts. Shocked, she protested, “What? Other businesses are struggling so much they’re letting employees go, and we’re raising wages that much?”

Her husband, faced with her strong opposition, quietly replied, “I don’t understand why you’re against raising his pay. Either give up your position as a deacon, or agree to the raise. Choose one.” “…What does being a deacon have to do with raising an employee’s wages?” she shot back. She had always prided herself on being ahead of her husband in faith, but his words struck her deeply. “You hear every week at church that we must love our neighbor. Why don’t you practice it? How much will we really lose by being a little more generous to someone who is poor?”

Even though she knew her husband was right, she still felt uneasy and reluctant to agree to the wage increase. When the workday ended and it was time to go to church, she hesitated to ask her husband for a ride, remembering his ultimatum: “Either give up being a deacon or agree to the raise.” She felt completely stuck.

Finally, though her heart wasn’t fully willing, she approached her husband to make peace. “Alright, dear. Starting next month, let’s do it your way.” She admitted that she said it mostly because she wanted to go to church—but once she said it, a joy unexpectedly welled up inside her, and she found herself giving thanks to God. She confessed how double‑minded she had been as a Christian and testified that loving one’s neighbor is not an abstract idea after all.

All the gathered members rejoiced in her victory and saw in her story a mirror of themselves.

We often hear the saying, “When our eyes are closed in prayer, we are Christians; but when our eyes open, we are not.” Unless our daily lives and our faith walk together, we inevitably find ourselves in difficulty. I, too, experience this often. First John 3:18 says, “Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth. This is how we know that we belong to the truth and how we set our hearts at rest in His presence.”

Among the many challenges in my spiritual life, “deeds and truth” remains one of the greatest. There are more times when my words and actions do not align than when they do, and each time, my conscience convicts me. The world expects Christians to live out this responsibility. Knowing that a sinner can live aware of their sin is itself God’s grace. And “deeds and truth”—this is surely the lifelong assignment God has given me.

— Yoon Wan‑Hee, 9/30/1996