my cup overflows

if you write a memoir what would it be about? 

what would the title be ?

what would you say about the purpose or the highest intention of your life? 

I asked the questions on Sunday

and someone asked me back on Tuesday.

Without a moment of hesitation, I said

my life is about being a mother of my three sons.

Raising them to be independent adults so that each one can glorify God 

has been the purpose and highest intention of my life. 

Even though I have been a pastor at the same time

my energy, my devotion, my first priority has always been raising them 

because I knew 

God can take care of Godself and the church can survive without me

but I knew they couldn't.

It certainly wasn't easy and probably the toughest job I've ever had.

But each one has been a universe to me

wholesome and complete in his own way.

Each one has been a gift for me

to hold, to watch, to learn, to let go.

Most of all 
each one has been the greatest teacher of unconditional love.

Without them, I couldn't have been where I am or who I am now.

Don't get me wrong.

I am an imperfect mother with brokenness who made tons of mistakes, 

for which I am forever apologetic.

They have their own imperfections and brokenness 
partially inherited from me, partially of their own.

But just the way they are now without any desire to change them, 

they are my highest achievements and they will continue to be. 

I have no other ambitions but only hope to continue to grow as their mother 

as they grow older.

Everything else that comes to my life

I consider it a bonus, 
an extra blessing
for my cup already overflows. 

small but full

what would have been 

a service with heartfelt sharing in a packed sanctuary

followed by a long procession to the cemetery

was condensed to a small committal service with the immediate family

nothing seemed to be normal except the sun, winds, clouds, flag, and roses. 

yet there was complete acceptance of reality

no resentment, no wishing for more

I realized 

it's not about how many people there are 

what truly matters is 

if a life so full of legacies is honored with affection

a heart so big with love comes alive in us

and it did

and it was full

my heart always breaks half a day later

*in honor of the Damon family

I can't breathe

Crucifix at Franciscan Monastery

another life was taken away

a child of God born with God-given honor and dignity

under an arrogant dehumanizing knee with full body weight 

slowly losing strength to beg for life

with no air to breathe

in front of the eyes of the helpless bystanders

he died 

along with him

love died
justice died

the belief of humanity being innately good died

in a human form full of corrupted self-indulging power 

I saw an evil

"I can't breathe"

echoes in my heart the familiar voice 

"I am thirsty"

of another violent death

and I lament again
Lord, how long and how many more lives will it take 

Mr. Floyd, 

May you now breathe freely in the presence of God who created you. 

 May your neck be held in the gentle and healing strokes of Jesus' hands 
once broken but now made whole. 

And may the love and justice come alive
from death to resurrection

In honor of Mr. George Floyd 

an unarmed black man in Minneapolis who died under police custody 

after a police officer pressed his neck to the ground with his knee until he became unresponsive

peaches peaches

there are not many things that make me excited

I sometimes feel like an old lady 

sitting in a rocking chair on her porch

watching the traffic goes by

as life unfolds its own ups and downs 

but 

peaches...!

they make me excited

make my heart rush

like the butterfly wings flapping

as soon as I grab one and take a bite

I'm in somewhere celestial

and in no time 

I'm left with juice all over my chin 

and a pit in my messy hand

I know I need to be more mindful of savoring not devouring

just thinking if I were Eve

and the fruit on the tree was peaches

I'd be in trouble

I give thanks to God for not making peaches forbidden fruit

and grateful to all who labor to produce peaches and make them available

for they are not just fruit

to me

 they are a source of an overwhelming joy 

fire pit chat 1

had the first fire last night.

sitting by it quietly

looking at the amber and flames

always makes me be mindful of

stillness and passion coexisting in me in this journey.

When the wind began to blow and the smoke made it too hard to breathe

I looked up the sky

and found the Big Dipper over my head.

It made me realize that

this is exactly where I needed to be at the moment

feeling a bit lost in the fire

under the Big Dipper

the gifts of imperfection

as a recovering perfectionist

I still remember the first time I read this book

I had chills feeling as if she was writing about me 

I admire Brene for her courage to be vulnerable

Her ten guideposts for wholehearted living 

were the lighthouse while swimming in the darkest seas

Cultivate authenticity - let go of what people think about you

Cultivate self-compassion - let go of perfectionism

Cultivate resilient spirit - let go of numbing and powerlessness

Cultivate gratitude and joy - let go of scarcity

Cultivate intuition and trusting faith - let go of the need for certainty

Cultivate creativity - let go of comparison

Cultivate play and rest - let go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth

Cultivate calm and stillness - let go of anxiety as a lifestyle

Cultivate meaningful work - let go of self-doubt and "supposed to"

Cultivate laughter, song, and dance - let go of being cool and "always in control"

For someone like me who had enough of perfectionism 

these were like what ten commandments were for the Hebrews

Her study goes along with what C.G.Jung said about construction, deconstruction, reconstruction, and what Richard Rohr said about the second half of life  

Along with her "The Power of Vulnerability" "I Thought It Was Just Me," 

"The Gifts of Imperfection" certainly stands as a landmark in my journey of transformation  

some quotes

"Perfectionism is not the same thing as striving to be your best. Perfectionism is the belief that if we live perfect, look perfect, and act perfect, we can avoid or minimize the painful feelings of shame, judgment, and blame. It's a shield. It's a twenty-ton shield that we lug around thinking it will protect us when, in fact, it's the thing that's really preventing us from flight."

"Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn't change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging"

"To love someone fiercely, to believe in something with your whole heart, to celebrate a fleeting moment in time, to fully engage in a life that doesn't come with guarantees--these are the risks that involve vulnerability and often pain. But, I'm learning that recognizing and leaning into the discomfort of vulnerability teaches us how to live with joy, gratitude, and grace."

Although she's a research scholar not a theologian, I'm more inspired by her insights and wisdom for leadership from the recent books "Dare to Lead" and "Braving the Wilderness." 

The Power of Vulnerability, Ted Talk by Brene Brown

ancient yet contemporary

Praise God in his sanctuary 
  praise him in his mighty firmament!

Praise him for his mighty deeds;

    praise him according to his surpassing greatness!

Praise him with trumpet sound;

    praise him with lute and harp!

Praise him with tambourine and dance;

    praise him with strings and pipe!

Praise him with clanging cymbals;

    praise him with loud clashing cymbals!

Let everything that breathes praise the Lord!

Praise the Lord!

                         (Psalm 150)

As I was reading this psalm 

and imagining what this would look and sound like

I thought of a praise band and liturgical dance

trumpet

lute (okay maybe not harp) 

tambourine and dance

strings and pipe

clanging cymbals

loud clashing cymbals

in the sanctuary

doesn't it look like this? 

or like this?

Ummm..maybe not this

I wonder why there were so many controversies over contemporary service with a praise band or liturgical dance in a sanctuary 

What we believe to be new may not be so foreign 

when we move beyond the traditions, doctrines, and creeds of the church

and make the original concepts from the scriptures

come alive in our 21st-century terms and forms

I am learning every day 

not to make my first reaction to anything new

to be "no"

*the images are from google.com

mercy center

was my spiritual womb

for a long time

it always changed the pace of my breathing and walking

there a mother of young children

became a daughter of God

there a pastor of a congregation

became a follower of Jesus

there a full-time caregiver

became nurtured and satisfied by the Spirit

It was beneath this rose cross in the chapel 

I became an adult in the presence of God 

as I encountered God speaking to my heart 

"you don't need to kneel"

there a sinner 

became a friend of Jesus

*It used to be just a drop-down canvas without a frame, which I loved the natural look

https://www.mercybythesea.org/

as long as I love him

Avery Point


strangely comforted by these words

I've listened to the stories of the people  
about how Jesus revealed himself to them
and I shared mine 

all of a sudden 
Jesus in the stories of the people  
comes alive in me 
as Jesus in the gospel
he's real

it's true
he promised

all these years 
to all these people
he's been fulfilling his promise 
because they were in love with him

maybe that's the source of my comfort 
I have his promise 
I will be loved by him 
and loved by God
and he will continue to reveal himself to me 
as long as I love him

what an honor

ms. tree

Someone introduced me to the trails behind a cemetery

loved it so much 

went there twice today

Walking slowly on the narrow path with exposed roots like veins of Grandma Earth

surrounded by the scent of fresh pine trees

listening to the echos of a woodpecker from a distance

I felt set apart 

from the rest of the world

It was an ordinary walk until 
something

grabbed my quiet attention  

A broken tree stump,

in the middle of it 

a young pine tree
To my eyes

 she's no longer a broken tree stump    

but a home

for the new lives rooted and growing

In life 

we get broken and wounded

not to the same degrees

but with no exceptions

It's easy for us to turn into wounded beasts

 constantly rubbing our wounds against others to bleed together 

It's harder to be wounded healers
but possible

when we have compassion for our wounded, vulnerable self
allowing others to love us as we are
trusting the certainty of God's desire to heal us
transforming ourselves into something we've never thought possible

giving a room for a new life to grow 

I bow to the tree 
for she is my teacher

drawn to you by Audrey Assad

after everything I've had
after everything I've lost
I know this much is true
I too am still

drawn to you

power of gentleness

as I listened to the winds and rain hitting hard the windows all night

I thought of the tulips in my backyard

thin and long stems just out of the ground

such gentle pedals 

will they survive

the sun came out as if nothing happened 

and I found the tulips 

standing 

as tall and proud 

like a miracle

over and over again I learn 

there's power in gentleness

and often I find

it is a gentleness 

that gets us through the storms

 people like tulips
who seem too gentle therefore vulnerable
when the storm comes
while hard branches get broken
 the wires get cut
yet they still stand tall
because their gentleness
kept them from damaging
themselves and others

drawn to you

by Audrey Assad 

I too am 

still drawn to you

the journey 1

labyrinth at Kripalu

the path covered by bushes and wildflowers

makes you wonder if 
you're on the right path

sometimes 
you just have to trust 
 that the path you're on 
will lead you the center
where your deepest yearning meets 

an invitation of the universe

오월에

진달래와 개나리라니

나 참...한숨

개나리가 필 때쯤이면

겨울이 갔구나 하며

추운 날들과 무채색에 지쳐있던 마음이 

흐드러지게 핀 노란꽃잎에 다시 설레기 시작하고 

가끔 오는 꽃샘 추위마저

귀엽게 느껴지곤 했는데

그러다 진달래가 피면 

드디어 봄이 왔구나 해서

기분 좋게 얇은 옷을 입고 

따스한 봄바람이 피부에 닿을 때마다 

무감각했던 세포들이 겨울잠 자던 동물들처럼

살아 움직이는 듯한 느낌에 설레었는데

아 이 동네 뭐지?

심지어 라일락마저 져가고 

장미가 피기 시작할 오월에

개나리와 진달래라니

그리 반갑던 꽃들이

왜 반갑지가 않지?

심지어 얘들을 보는데 왜 버럭 화가 나지?

3월과 4월을 도둑 맞은 느낌이랄까

여긴 여기대로의 시간이 있는데

어쩌면 쟤들의 시간이 

내 시간보다 더 정확한 건데

받아들였다가도

가끔은 울컥 

눈 돌릴 때마다 

그림처럼 펼쳐지는 하늘과 바다에 감탄하면서도

아직 이곳 계절에 적응되지 않은 

여전히 한국의 계절에 살고 있는 내 마음은

어쩌면

그리움

혹은 
이민자의 상실감

Azaleas and forsythias?
Oh, come on… sigh.

Back home, when the forsythias bloomed,
I would think, Winter is finally gone.
My heart, weary from the cold days and their gray monotony,
would begin to flutter again
at the sight of yellow petals bursting in joy.
Even the lingering chill of early spring
felt almost endearing then.

And when the azaleas bloomed,
I would know, Spring is truly here.
Happily, I’d put on lighter clothes,
and each time the gentle spring breeze touched my skin,
my dulled senses stirred awake—
like animals roused from hibernation.
And I felt alive again.

But here in Maine
even as May comes,
when lilacs are expected to fade
and roses about to bloom—
azaleas and forsythias appear.
Flowers that once thrilled me
now bring me no joy.
Why do they not delight me?
Why, instead, do they make me bristle with anger?

It feels as if March and April
were stolen from me.
This place has its own seasons,
its own time.
And maybe—just maybe—
their time is more accurate than mine.

I try to accept it…
but sometimes a wave of emotion rises.
Even as I marvel at the sky and sea
spreading before me like a painting,
my heart still hasn’t adjusted to the seasons here.
It still lives in the rhythm of Korea’s seasons.

Perhaps what I feel
is longing.
Or perhaps
the quiet grief of an immigrant.

being part of the universe

Fortunes Rocks Beach, Saco 

waves come and go

pushing and pulling

in their own rhythm 

following nature's order 
they do not resist
they do not move on their own

they are humble part of 

the life of the universe

today I downloaded an app for tide chart

to figure out the right tide for a long beach walk 

and the right tide to feel close to the water 

by honoring the rhythm of the ocean
without resisting
without drifting away

I feel like 

being part of 

the life of the universe

God's creation
 humble yet beloved

debt of love

from the bridge near Dock Square


encountering something like this 
always moves my heart 
listening to the national anthem at a stadium 
or Taps at a graveyard
seeing a veteran proudly salute to the flag
a firefighter running out of the flame holding a survivor
a picture of a police officer killed in line-of-duty in the news
exhausted eyes of the medical staff in COVID-19 floor
love beyond their own interests
unselfish giving of their lives pursuing the greater good for others
remind me of Jesus and his love
I owe a debt of love
to Jesus
and to all who sacrifice themselves to protect my safety
that's why love
is not optional 
for me as a follower of Jesus
but a requirement 



Let no debt remain outstanding, 
except the continuing debt to love one another,
for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law. 
(Romans 13:8, NIV)

avery point

I often think of Avery Point 
the place that remembers many of my stories 

often it was too beautiful and otherworldly
it made me question myself 
what have I done to deserve to see this

and it made me realize that
I still don't get it 

that it isn't because 
I did something to deserve to see the beauty

but because God is good

so when I encounter another beauty 
I stop asking
but simply give thanks