Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Dreaming...

I don't dream anymore, i can't remember the last time I dreamt in my sleep. It could be that I'm not sleeping deeply enough, consumed by the thoughts of my wake. It might as well be that I have no dreams, I've always only had nightmares. Lately, I have dream in my wake.

I think dreams are given by someone, accredited to you, deposited in you by grandfathers before you, mothers, and brothers, in whispers, sometimes outloud, or in other times, it's only in secret thought. Though, somehow, you know them, you dream about them. It's the acheiving of that dream that is responsibility of your own, and when you're given big ones to fill, there's a great vast in between. Between you and that loafty place...the space between, the bigger the gap, the harder the strife...but that's the process, it doesn't indicate impossibility...

Plans deposited in us like seeds by the great God, we call dreams...
If they're really his plans, we can achieve! we can fill up and bridge the space between!
Strive and endure...that's the process...

Thursday, July 24, 2008

I Believe Man....

you gave me a false sense of beauty...a false sense of good...
you yourself, a detriment to me, but needed the reinforcement...in times of loneliness, in times of self-doubt, I crave the attention..."lovely lady, I will treat you sweetly, adore you, I mean, you crush me." i believe you, i want to, it's easy...

if i were my own daughter, i'd say to her, "don't fall for it, God's grace is sufficient for you."

you give me a false sense of shame...a false sense of banishment...
you detriment me with words of discouragement...
a side way glance and shaking of the head
in times of weakness, in times of darkness, I believe the attention...
i believe you, i want to, it's easy...

if i were my own daughter, i'd say to her, "don't fall for it, you are loved by God."

feed your heart with the words of the Lord...
his love is not like manna, where it comes as you need...
he's spilled it, poured it, forfeited to you fully...

Loneliness

I think I feel most lonely when I am surrounded by lots of people; knowing how out of all these people, not one seem to understand exactly how I feel. This should in reality be the state of everyone when you think about it...how can another human being really know and understand all you think and feel? It just can't be done. But for some, like me, feel most full and understood in isolation or in small groups.

I feel like I have my finger tips at this, barely grasping at where it comes from and what state of mind would bring me to such loneliness...

It's God, I feel lonely because he feels lonely for me. He compels reconnection with him. Is it he, the enemy that makes me resist? or is it just my stubborn heart wanting something else to fill that void when the true fill is obvious before my eyes.

I push them away...people...is it because I ultimately want to be left alone? or is it because it's a reminder of how there is no connection made because I have not been intentional with my words, heart, my life? There's a disconnect.

I know the remedy...
it's too weighty and costly...
to devote such time...even when its to save my own heart.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

A deep hole...



A heart is a deep hole, insatiable and voracious.

It says, "Feed me!!!" in a deep growling voice like the monster Venous Fly Trap in Little Shop of Horrors. Scavenging and eating whatever he can, cajoling and using subterfuge to lure his prey.

It requires quality food, demanding nutritious and gourmet confections second to none....

but...when it's not fed what it wants and needs, it will betray you.

It knows somehow, when you're feeding it trash instead of the creme de la creme....

it shows on your face, in your self confidence, in your stance and what it creates in you.

when you give it sadness, it fails, when you give it junk food, it stops, and when it's not given the proper start, it murmurs.


The heart is especially particular because it's created to receive only the truest and the purest love... and when it's given imposers, it knows, it cringes and grows small.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Grapes of Wrath...

In today’s Korea, many elderly men and women can be seen smoking and defeat had made permanent lines in their faces so deep, that there was no knowing what they had seen. From our ancestors, we the Korean people, even some Korean-Americans have received our own overarching inheritance called han, or “irresolvable bitterness.” Han is not an emotion or a condition like depression or bi-polar disorder, but it is the strong feeling that the Korean people have been the victim of too many foes and that we have not received good. It often leads us to be glass half empty people and compelled to present to the world that we as a people, have been shortchanged. Koreans love to drink, eat, be with family and are a group that is familiar with laughter, but deep in the reservoir of our beings is a pool of black water that rarely evaporates. Han is collectively endured as citizens of a small country that have been hard pressed from all sides being attacked, colonized, war-torn and raped.

It’s difficult to diagnose my grandmother with individual bitterness harvested by her own disappointment and despondence, or if it’s just part of the collective han she had inherited from her people. Regardless of what variant of bitterness my grandmother harbored, but she became a fighter, not a monster. Han in some cases is the fighting fish in the lives of Koreans. Similar to the short man’s syndrome or the Napoleon complex, the Korean people live harder, laugh harder, and cry to their hearts' content. We don’t have to accept all the inheritance we’re given, we can reject them too, and in most cases, it’s a lot of paperwork and shedding off of property, in the end you feel your feet are levitating off the ground.

Fighting Fish


“There was a fisherman that always had the freshest fish in the market. Other fishermen would frequently ask how he caught fish so different than all the other fishermen, when they all fish in the same sea. He reveals, ‘in the tank I keep the fish, I add one fighting fish that pursues the other fish to devour them. In efforts to stay alive, the other fish swim around in the tank growing stronger instead of slowly and quietly die off. Their lives are saved because of that one fighting fish.’ ”

My father says, “Grandmother was that one fighting fish, instead of letting me die off from the catch,  I had been fighting with her for so long, I am more alive today.” I can see that change in him too. My grandmother wasn’t always the fighting fish that devoured the energy, love and attention of others, but she was given this fate as a little girl who lost her father to sickness. She escaped the North (Korea) with two young boys and a servant girl, fighting for all of their lives. She had been thrown into the tank with too many fighting fish, she had to turn around and become the fighting fish herself. Eat or be eaten. Sometimes, she could not differentiate between friend and foe, so she fought everyone and everything. My grandmother tried to keep her head above those dark waters, always joking, laughing, and finding beauty in almost everything.

For a long while, during her stay with us, she suffered through Alzheimer’s and dementia. There was little left of her memory except for us, God and what was Truth for her. The Bible. Every day, she hand wrote a chapter of the Bible beginning from Genesis, not wasting any white space on the college ruled note book paper we had given her to write on. Her handwriting was consistent and neat, always so careful and focused when she sat down to copy down the Word of the Lord. She may not have always remembered who her friends were or what she ate for dinner, but she always remembered who she belonged to. This small quiet routine of writing out the bible may have been her way of fighting to remember that she was His beloved and a fight to keep some hope, when darkness and confusion was slowly closing in on her mind and body. She won that fight, because in the end, although her body gave way to cancer, she was eager to be at Her Lord’s side forever and she was not afraid.