Saturday, January 21, 2012

Blast from the Past

Imagine stepping back in time 1300 years ago to Hahoemaul (pronounced hah-ho-eh-mah-uhl) Village , to a time when life was simpler, the work harder, and family bonds closer. Imagine walking the narrow streets that have been used for generations by the same clan, the Ryu clan. The Ryu clan has been living in this particular village for over 600 hundred years and still do to present day. This village was the home of two famous brothers, one of which was a famous Confucian scholar and the other prime minister during the Japanese invasion during the 1500s.





The historic village has preserved some aspects of daily Korean life. The name of the village itself Hahoe comes from the geographic nature of this village. Ha means river and hoe means turn around. As you can see from the picture of the village the river literally turns around on itself and the village is nestled in the crook of the riverbend.











This is one of the homes in this village. A family actually still lives here.






A traditional roof tile

This tree is on the highest point of the village and supposedly houses the a goddess, Samsin. The pieces of paper you see tied around the tree are wishes of all the visitors that have come to make homage to the tree.
Queen Elizabeth made a trip to this village back in the 90s. She planted a tree which is the pine below which is supposed to be symbolic of the korean people, "the spirit of an iron hand in a velvet glove." It is symbolic of how the korean people have preserved in harsh climates just as this species of pine endures harsh climates in the Korean mountains.

This is my uncle in a traditional Korean swing.
There was this random telephone pole about 10 feet off the ground at the traditional korean playground.

This is me on a nol-ttwiggi, a korean see-saw, you can jump up crazy high. Leave it to koreans to make see-saws an extreme sport.



Check out this video:







This house was facing the Nakdong river and surrounding mountains. It had one of the best views in the entire town.

It was a really amazing day in Hahoemaeul. Definitely a must if you are ever in Korea.



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Thursday, January 12, 2012

South Korea: the sights!!


I thought I would break the blogsilence and share about my travels in Korea. I arrived at the Incheon International airport on January 5 after two days of traveling (missed my connection in San Francisco and had to spend the night). My paternal side of the family came to pick me up at the airport and took me sight seeing before dropping me off in the town where my mother’s side of the family lives. We traveled to Pohang, which is on the eastern coast of South Korea.

a photo of my cousin and I, she was my official translator for my time with my paternal side of the family.





A picture of Pohang Beach…



We also hit up the famous Lighthouse museum and surrounding sights. Thousands of Koreans from all over Korea come to this spot to bring in the new year at sunrise since this is the eastern coast. Its claim to fame is that it is the eastern most part of Korea and the sunrise here first. There are huge bronze hand sculptures called "The Hands of Harmony."





While there we had a great bowl of fresh SASHIMI!!!










I was also taken to see two of the most famous pagados in Korea at the Bulguksa Temple. Possibly the most impressive temple in Korea. It is regarded as a masterpiece of Buddhist art, and was built in the 8th century during the Silla Kingdom period.








In front of the main prayer hall, there stand two famous stone pagodas. They are both National Treasures. Dabotap means the pagoda of many treasures. Standing on the right of the courtyard facing the main hall, it shows the artistic beauty of Silla culture. In comparison to the simple Seokgatap, it is highly decorative. It was so delicately carved that they say ‘Silla masons managed stones like clay.’





Seokgatap means the pagoda of Buddha. It stands on the left of the courtyard facing the main hall. This three story pagoda is admired for its simple and dignified design. It is considered Korea’s most typical stone pagoda







We then took a 20 minute curvy, car-sickness producing ride to Seokguram Grotto.


At the main gain it is a 5 or 6 minute brisk walk to the main temple. Outside the main temple there was this water fountain PICTURE.





According to legend this water has healing properties. It was incredibly cold and tasted awesome. I silently prayed that the curing properties were not mistaken laxative properties caused by amoebaes or giardia. It was hard not to draw the parallel with Christian beliefs that Jesus is the water of Life and how Buddhism is merely a counterfeit of the Gospel.

After my trepidatious drink, we then trekked up the well worn path along with many other Buddhist belivers to see a seated Buddha protected by two sets of 12 royal guards (just as God is surrounded by 24 elders as described in the book of Revelations. On the soltice the third-eye of the Buddha is hit by a ray of the sun coming through the dome above his head. The light from the third eye is said to shine South-south-East, in the direction of an ancient temple in the valley below, destroyed by Mongols in the 13th century. The line continues and points exactly to the tomb of King Mum-Mu in the East Sea, 3km father South-south-East. This was said to protect Korea from Japan.






After seeing the impressive Buddha we descended to the fully functioning temple where a Buddhist monk was offering prayers and incense to Buddha. As we drew near the musky scent of incense and murmured prayers of the faithful Buddhists, I fought back tears as I watched a young boy kow-towing to the serene faced Buddha. My heart ached as I saw the passionate devotion this young boy earnestly offered to a long dead mere-mortal that could no longer hear his urgent prayers or receive his fervent reverence. I looked around at all of the Buddha faithful that with out Jesus were destined to the same destruction and judgement as their revered god. Again I was faced with my inadequacy of communication. I couldn’t even tell them that Jesus loved them and died for them. God Lord I could even tell them that Jesus was love. As I trekked down from the temple and even further away from those peole I knew would be destined to go to hell I was frustrated but challenged to not only learn Korean but to pray for the many who follow Buddha that the light of the Gospel would shine on them and their understanding would be opened to the knowledge of Christ Jesus and his Gospel. That they would find true enlightenment. May that be all of our prayers as well, for those of us who call ourselves followers of the true Way, disciples of the one and only Teacher and Master.






here is the link if you want to see the rest of my photos from this time. Facebook photos I will try to blog at least every couple of days or as things come up. Happy blogging!!





























































































































































Wednesday, July 27, 2011

A sad farewell and a Rainbow

Today I drove three and a half hours one way to attend a funeral in an obscure Mixteco village. The funeral was for the mother of two very dear friends. Their mother was accompanying their father (he is the pastor of their church) to a hospital (in Mexico City) because of a serious illness, when she contracted pneumonia. Two weeks later she passed away because of complications of pneumonia. As soon as I found out my heart wrenched inside of me for my friends' loss. During the long drive to arrive to their small village, I could not keep my mind from imagining all that the family was going through; which would cause me to lift up prayers on their behalf. Compassion welled up inside of me for the loss of this family, because I know too well the anguish that a mother's death and subsequent absence can cause.

What words can adequately express the sympathy and compassion I felt for my two friends during this and tragic event. What words can convey the message of, "I know that you are hurting and possibly questioning God's plan in all of this," or "I know what it feels like to lose a mother." Everything that I was feeling, thinking, and wanting to say seemed some how not enough. And instead all I said to them was, "We are here." And then I embraced them. It is inconceivable how the thousands of things that I wanted to say to ease their pain was all trumped by the simply non-verbal gesture of merely hugging them. In that embrace I imparted the compassion and sympathy that words could not express, and in some small way for those few moments they were comforted.

Prior to the funeral service, there was a viewing of the body to give people an opportunity to pay their last respects. I had just sat down to rest when I saw my friend (daughter of the deceased) come in. I rushed over to hug her, she thanked me for coming, and together we walked into the room where the coffin was being kept. We walked over hand in hand and she began talking to me about her precious last moments with her mother. Her mother had told her to take care of herself and the house and not to worry because she would be coming home as soon as she could. She never would have dreamt that her mother would be returning home to her like this.

As I left the room it began to rain heavily. It was almost as if the heavens were taking it share in the grief that all present were feeling today. I wondered if she felt remorse at not having embraced her mother a few moments longer, or told her mom how much she loved her just one more time, and kissed her sweet cheek. I prayed for my friends as I remembered how bitter it was to think about the fact that my mother would never see me off on my first date or prom. How she would never see me graduate from high school or university. She would not be there on my wedding day to help me get ready or be there for the birth of her first grandchild. She would never know the kind of woman I would grow to be. My mother would be painfully absent from all these precious and pivotal moments in my life.

During the burial as I looked upon the anguished faces of my friends and their family, the grief of my mother's death tried to wash over me. As my friends closed the coffin and bid their dear mother farewell and wept openly, I wept with them knowing how terrible the separation of mother and child is, and how the dull ache seems to linger for what seems an eternity.

But the minister's rich baritone voice swept over each mourner like warm waves of the ocean. Those words were not merely words of sympathy and condolences but they were words of life and peace, the kind that passes all human understanding. As his voice rang out clear and true with each verse, it was like God applying the healing balm of Gilead over our sorrow-laden souls. It was at this moment as the minister gave an altar call that I lifted my tear-stained face to the sky to see the rain letting up and through the mist and cloudy sky a rainbow had appeared. It was a reminder to all that no matter the storms and dark clouds that ever encroach upon our lives, God's faithfulness to us. Our God is a God of promise, a God of covenant. Just when we think the rains and storms have come to stay, he sends the rainbow to remind us that never will he allow the rains of circumstance and storms of tragedy destroy us. God is sovereign and he is in control even when it does not seem or feel like it. He is our rainbow-sender. He is our comforter. He is our peace-speaker, the peace-giver. He is our covenant-keeper. Today, where ever and whoever you are be comforted.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Answered prayers and throwing-up a worm



A few weeks ago I was with a team from James River Assembly, from Springfield, MO. This was a great team and there were quite a few "firsts" on this trip.



We partnered with a local church to go to a Zapoteco village called Tierra Blanca. It was my first opportunity to minister in a Zapoteco village. It is about 8 hours from our mission base. We were scheduled to do a children's outreach to celebrate the Mexican national holiday, "Dia de los Niños" or "Children's Day." There were approximately 400 children that were in attendance which did not include parents. So there were probably a good 500-600 people in attedance. Almost all of the children responded during the altar call.



During the event there was a torrential downpour. So we had to delay the event to re-setup the area to be sheltered from the rain. The Mexican team prayed for the rain to stop, while the U.S. team-members re-setup up chairs and speakers in another area. But it started raining harder and thundered and there were lightning flashes. So the Mexican team-members restarted the program under the shelter while the U.S. team-members began praying for the rain to stop. (This group comes from a church that has a huge Independence Day event every year and begins interceding for the weather to be nice for the concert and firework display a month prior to the event. For the past 10 years or more, July 4th has had good weather even when the surrounding communities have rain or storms. So their faith to pray for weather is something that they are known for in the community) Within less than five minutes the rain stopped and the sun came out from behind the clouds and began drying up the rain. The Mexicans were so blessed and impacted by this answered prayer.



Earlier in the day, the U.S. team-members had prayed for a young girl that had a low grade-fever and was throwing up, and she stopped throwing up but still was not feeling well. So during one of the times that the U.S. team-members were helping in a distribution, several of the Mexican team-members began to pray for the same girl. After a few moments the girl vomitted and writhing in the still warm vomit was the culprit, a 5-6 inch round worm the width of a cooked spaghetti noodle. One of the young team members stepped on it, in a show of taking dominion over the enemy. But comically enough the now dominated worm was hopelessly stuck in the treads of his shoe. It was hilarious watching as he was praying fervently for the continued healing of the little girl while wagging his foot around trying to unlodge the squished worm.



So both teams were impacted by the faith of the other and there was a spiritual cross pollination of faith. Seeing the faith for stopping the rain and the healing of the little girl when she vomitted out the worm really caused both teams faith to be built up to believe God for more and to realize that he was an answerer of prayers.



We then had a brief church service in which several new people came for the first time to church because of the outreach (the church has a regular membership of about 15-18) I had the opportunity to share my testimony about my trip to Korea (if you don't know about my trip read my previoius blogs from January and February). And I used it as an illustration of how the Devil lies to us to tell us our Heavenly father does not want us when indeed he is waiting for us to return home and receive all of his love. There were 8 people that responded to the altar call and got saved and came home to their heavenly father as I came home to my earthly one.



Just like in Xalitla, it was amazing to be probably some of the first missionaries to offer up prayers and worship to our loving God, I realized that the same thing was happening for the first time in the history of Tierra Blanca. We were quite possibly the first foreigners or missionaries to arrive to this small village and for the first time worship and prayer was going up to God in English from this hunble church. What an awesome privilege!!!

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Encounter with Quetzalcoatl... the feathered serpent

Quetzalcoatl, feathered-serpent god.




In my previous blog I mentioned that I would be apart of a team of missionaries heading to the village, Xalitla (Sha-lit-la), in the state of Guerrero. It is a village that pertains to the Nahuatl indigenous group. The drive to reach this particular village is about 9 hours from the missionary base, Roca Blanca. The main industry or means of income of this town is the painting of ceramic pots or on amate (rustic parchment made from bark). Many of the paintings have depictments of the ancient Aztec god, Quetzalcoatl, the feathered-serpent. Currently there is no established church in this particular village.



After the ardeous 9 hour drive, we alighted from our vehicles into the scorching heat of Xalitla. We were definitely not mentally prepared for the 110 degree weather that we encountered. I remember distinctly walking from the vehicle to the house we were to be staying at and thinking that heat was radianting up from the ground and it felt like we were walking around in an oven. The thought occured to me that we would easily convince the village of their need for salvation with the fact that hell was even hotter than Xalitla and the afterlife with out Jesus would be to suffer eternally in the heat of Hades. But as it turns out, the message of the Jesus' love and redemption was more than sufficient for the task at hand.



One of the things that I remember most about our arrival was that within twenty minutes on of the other missionaries had brought a guitar and proceeded to play several worship songs while the other missionaries joined in during the process of unpacking. From what we learned from the villagers, we might possibly have been the first group of foreign missionaries to have come to Xalitla. So how exciting it was to be counted among the first to offer up songs of praise and worship to the God of all creation in thi remote village.



During our time in this Nahuatl village, we broke up into pairs and went to do home visits and to invite children and their parents to the children's outreach we were organizing in the evening. The living condition of the villagers was considerably below the national poverty level of Mexico. The homes were were invited into were very humble. There were dirt floors, outside kitchen and bathroom facilities. But the generousity and hospitality that we encountered, made one think that we were being received into the greatest mansions and sitting rooms Mexico had to offer.



The pinnacle of our time in Xalitla, undoubtedly was in the afternoon during the children's event. Approximately 250-300 people were in attendance. The children's minister that organized and lead the outreach did a stellar job of presenting the gospel in a way that both child and adult alike were able to fully grasp and ultimately repond to. A vast majority of the children and several adults responded to the call of salvation and gave their lives to Jesus that day. After the teaching, craft time, and altar call, we were able to pass out approximately 200 giftboxes from the Samaritan's Purse organization. We are looking into sending a second time in the very near future. As the Lord brings to your mind this village please intercede that the town of Xalitla will continue to be open to the Gospel and that a church will be able to be planted there. Xatlitla is nestled in the rugged mountains of southern Mexico is essentially the doorway, we believe, that will lead us to even more remote Nahuatl villages.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Easter Sermon, bus accident, and Graduation

I have now been officially back in Mexico for about a month now and it has definitely been extremely busy.

My first Sunday back I had to privilege of accompanying one of the missionaries to the first graduation of a Bible school in the town of Amuzgos. For the past two years, every Saturday 10 faithful brothers and sisters in Christ have been faithfully attending Bible school. That Sunday morning was the culmination of two years of study for these precious 10. It was a wonderful blessing to be apart of the graduation ceremony and pray for the launching of these loyal church members. There was a middle-aged woman, mother of 4, that really touched me. The life of an average Mexican housewife is rigourous and very demanding. Seeing her walking up to the podium to receive her degree to me was the epitomy of the virtuos woman of Proverbs 31.

During my second week on Friday, I had my first accident here in Mexico. I had borrowed a truck from a fellow missionary to move my belongings to my new house. In route (less than a 2 minute drive) to move my things, I came upon a tour bus stopped in the middle of the road. I was going to be impatient and go around but decided to exercise patience and wait for it to continue on. I noticed the bus rolling back a bit but I did not see that its lights were on to signal that it was actually driving in reverse or hear the usually back up beeping that most large vehicles have. When I realized that it was reversing I began to simultaneously check behind me, honk the horn, and try to put the car into reverse. I was not quick enough and the ginormous bus crunched the front of the car. Between the car being pushed by the bus and me going in reverse the car moved back several feet. I was about to hop out and take a look at the damage when I realized the bus was not stopping and hit the car the second time. By this time the bus saw me and stopped backing up and I jumped out of the car to take a look at the damage and confront the bus driver. I got pretty upset and yelled at him (after I cooled down I apologized). He kept telling me to calm down and was about to put his hand on my shoulder when I yelled at him "Calm yourself, this car is borrowed, and don't even touch me!!!" I then took a gander at the damage and realized how bad it was I tore my hat of my head and slammed it on the ground and proceeded to yell at him and scold him about his carelessness. Long story short, he had an insurance card that was expired and his company begged us not to take it to the authorities. They will be paying out of pocket for the damages.

After my very eventful Friday we left for a small town called Pinotepa, where I had the opportunity to share with the youth about purity and share my testimony in the church service there in Pinotepa. We then drove another hour and half away to a Mixteco town called Jamiltepec where I was able to share my testimony about my journey to Korea and finding my family. I got to pray for a lady that wanted to get pregnant and another lady that was pregnant but wanted prayer because she had suffered a miscarriage prior to her current pregnancy

During the week of Easter we had our annual youth conference. About 1,500 youth were in attendence. I was apart of the altar ministry team and baptism team. During the conference around 150 youth were baptized and several hundred gave their lives to Jesus for the first time or renewed the commitment to the Lord. It was such an amazing experience to baptize new believers and be apart of such a precious event that will forever mark the lives of many of the youth that took the step of faith to bury the old man and be ressurected to new life with Jesus. The youth were split into two tents, one for the fellas and one for the chicas. I was able to minister during one of the breakout sessions. I shared on purity and had an altar call specifically for young ladies that have been abused.

This type of ministry is such that no girl wanted to respond to the altar call initially. So I had everyone shut their eyes and was looking out into the crowd looking for at least one girl. I encouraged them to not be afraid or ashamed because I knew that God was present and wanted to heal them. As I was looking for that one girl, there was one girl with her eyes open and weeping. I looked straight into her eyes and continued to speak to the crowd but knew the words God was giving me was going straight into her heart. I said something to the effect

"You do not have to be afraid or ashamed anymore. You do not have to hide what happened to you and suffer in silence. Today God is here to heal your pain and erase the memory and set you free. Do you want to be free?"

She shook her head and that is when I said "then come". As soon as she stood up a sob broke out from her, that audible lament broke something and other girls started pouring to the front. There was a ministry team that helped me with the girls that came up. There was even two older ladies in thei 50's or so that came up to get ministry. They had never told anyone until that day what had happened to them. God's presence and tenderness was so present it was palpable. I later hugged the girl, that was the first to stand, and I thanked her for being brave and that God was healing her and because of her bravery other girls were encouraged to come get healed as well. From what I was later told she is planning on coming to the Bible school next year. All in all, about 20-25 females were set free from these burden that they have silently been carrying and suffering through.

More recently, I was invited to preach for the first time in a main church service. It is a small church in Rio Grande. It has a regular attendence of 30 adults and 20 or children. I preached about how we have an anchor of our soul, the promise we have in Jesus. And how in order to be connected to this anchor we have to have three spiritual disiciplines in our lives that form a three-fold cord that cannot be easily broken; prayer, giving, and fasting. What was really awesome and was a sign to the pastor that invited me and to me that my being there was of God, was the fact that that Sunday, which was Easter Sunday, the church was having a special time of fasting, prayer, and collecting a special end of the month offering. The church and I left the service that day feeling extremely blessed. It is validating to know that I was connected with the flow of God that day and ministering his heart to his people.

This Friday please keep me in your prayers. We will be going as a missionary base to a new town called Shalitla. Which is in the next state over. It is the first time we will be going there and we will be doing a children's outreach, with the hope that the doors will be open for other outreaches in the future. It is also a new people group that we are going to be ministering to, so if you would be in prayer for us. It is a 9 hour drive. We will leave this Friday and return on Monday. Pictures and posts to come.

The photos from this trip can be seen on my facebook page, just click here.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Foster's Beer and a dead bird

During the time I attended Bible school in Tulsa, I had a bi-polar, schizophrenic female neighbor (whose name for the moment escapes me but for this blog I shall dub her Sheila). You could always tell when Sheila was not on her medication because she adopted a faux-Australian accent and wear a tight spandex cycling get up complete with unnecessary cup/jock strap. Whenever she was like that I tried to avoid her at all costs.

But one very sad and unfortunate day a bird died and was lying stiff as a board near the bushes by our apartment unit. For one reason or another Sheila was moved with compassion and soon filled with righteous indignation for the untimely “murder” of this bird. She promptly came to my door, because I guess Koreans have a reputation for random avian genocide, and shoved the carcass of bird and asked me with her fake Australian accent, and very accusingly I might add, “do you know who killed this bird and gouged its eyes out?” The poor deceased bird was missing its eyes. With as many of the fruits of the spirit I could muster, I told her that I had no idea but it could have died of natural causes and insects probably ate the eyes. Then with bulging eyes and spittle launching out of her mouth she accused me of the defenseless birds demise.

Thus being depleted of the little patience I had left I told her I would not have wasted my time killing the dumb little bird and closed the door on her bugged-eyed face. Not very nice, but who likes to be called a murderer. But the shutting of my front door on psycho Sheila’s face was only the beginning of many episodes of weirdness to come.

The next day Sheila built a small altar for her dead bird and placed it on the banister, so I had to look at it every time I went to my car. It's festering, rotting body was offensive on many fronts. Since she had been so bold to knock on my door, I repaid her the favor and knocked on her door to demand she put the voodoo-ish altar and dead bird in her house. Dumb-Dumb decision number 2. Begrudingly she hurled the altar and rotting bird into her house.

But the hits just kept on rolling. She threw corn flakes on my car and my roommate’s car not too long after our visit. I guess so the birds would come and eat it, thus scratching our cars and giving the birds opportunity to defecate on the hoods to add insult to injury. I asked her what her problem was, to which she promptly replied something to the effect that I was a bird killer or some such non-sense.

The last straw came when I was getting into my car to leave and she was standing outside her house in full cycling spandex regalia complete with jock strap drapped with the Australian flag over her shoulders like a cape and nursing the biggest can of Fosters beer I have ever seen. Yup she was giving me the stank-eye. If looks could kill I would have been as dead as her enshrined bird. Psycho Sheila then put her Australian flag under the tires of my car. I asked her to move it or I would be forced to roll over it. She refused and when I was pulling out she said “Hai-yah!!” and kicked my passenger side door with her big old boot and left a huge dent. I hopped out of my car and asked the obvious, “is you crazy?!!!” I told her I was calling the police and dared her to leave. Sheila snatched the cell out of my hand and got up in my face. I really wanted to knock in her front teeth but decided to get my roommates cell phone and told her to get out of my face, when she pushed me down the stairs. With out thinking I screamed for my roommate and my cousins. I must have screamed like someone was killing me because they came pouring out of the apartment like it was on fire. I quickly told them what happened and that she pushed me down the steps. Sheila quickly ran into her house to get her bike and the five of us tried to restrain her from leaving before the cops got there. With the strength of what seemed like two or three full grown men she pulled at her bike. When all of a sudden everyone just let go of her and the bike and she half hurled down the steps and was up like a cat and off on her bike to flee the scene.

The Tulsa cops FINALLY showed up. I explained to them what happened and said that basically it was my word against hers. They did not do a single thing, typical. They advised me that next time to make sure no one was around and punch her lights out. The cop told me that once she had grabbed his rear-end and told him he had a nice back-side (that was a clean up of the vulgarity she used in actuality). He got offended and told her to back off, after which she began taunting him and asking if he was a homosexual. I returned to my house steaming and frustrated waiting for what the next psychotic episode that I was sure was to come.

Thus concludes my infamous Psycho Sheila story. Consequently, she did get back on her medicine and came to my door to apologize and offer an prehistoric computer as payment for the damages. I told her to forget about it and just to stay on her meds. She moved out two weeks later.

About Me

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I am crazy in love with God. I live in the middle of paradise, doing what I love the most. I am undeniably random and spontaneous. I love a good laugh, the kind that makes your stomach muscles hurt.