Those who live in a parsonage often experience intense emotional ups and downs. When you hold the threads of life together with so many different people, the climate inside a parsonage can feel more unpredictable than the weather outside. One phone call brings laughter, another brings tears, and sometimes you must drop everything and run. In the morning you hear the joyful news of a newborn; by afternoon someone healthy has suddenly been hospitalized; by evening you hear of a death. These constant reports from near and far keep your heart in a state of tension.

Yet recently, even without any particular crisis, I found myself living in deep emotional turbulence. Nothing brought joy. I became easily irritated—toward my children, my husband, toward anyone. I spoke sharply, coldly. I felt unstable, quick to anger, and emotionally exhausted, as though I were spending far more energy than I had. No one had wronged me. No bad news had come. And yet my heart was flying low, barely above the ground.

It is embarrassing to admit this publicly, and unbecoming of a pastor’s wife. But in those dark days, I was forced to look closely at my own frail and imperfect self. Years ago, if I felt angry or overwhelmed, I could cry once, breathe deeply, and feel relieved. But now, with age, I can no longer behave like a child. Even though I went before God every dawn to pray, my soul did not know where it hurt. All I could offer were groans that came from somewhere deep and wordless.

I began speaking to myself: You often stand before others and speak of God’s great love and faithfulness. You tell those who are tested to “overcome in the name of Christ.” But when you yourself grow weak, why can’t you apply the same truth? Why do you speak so harshly to the ones you love? Are you not harming and destroying yourself? Is your faith only strong when life is bright and clear as midday?

My conscience struck me. I realized my emotions had been trapped in a cloud of negative energy for quite some time—dark clouds ready to burst into a storm at any moment.

Then the words of Scripture pierced my soul like light: “God is light; in Him there is no darkness at all.” (1 John 1:5)

Dear listeners,

Our outward appearances may differ, but inside we all share the same truth: we are limited, fragile, and incomplete.

Human emotion—Energy in Motion—is simply the movement of energy. Depending on where that energy flows, it can produce life or destruction. Some people barely show emotion at all—not because they lack it, but because their upbringing taught them to suppress it, leaving them unsure how to process what they feel.

And so I asked myself: How weak is the human being? How deeply do we need salvation?

— Yoon Wan‑Hee, November 19, 1998