Passion and Pain
intersection of life
After about a year and a half of long training and waiting, finally I had been to be a medical missionary and longing to go mission field.
However, seeing my father and my husband standing there, trying to hide their tears, weighed heavily on my heart and body.
And just the day before,
we had received the joyous news that a baby who is joining in our journey growing in my body.
While feeling both happiness and fear, I held hands with my husband while the farewells prayers with my family and all team together.
My husband and I comforted each other with complex smiles, saying that living our best in Pakistan and Korea was truly respecting each other’s choices.
"Make sure to eat well, and let's live our best until we meet again in good health."
I, who had always been so cheerful, my vision was blurred by the tears, and I couldn't see him clearly as I waved one more time and said goodbye.
My husband, also trying to hide his face, pulled his hat down low and clenched his teeth, smiling through his suppressed tears. He stood there as straight as a rod, looking so handsome that it made my heart ache.
Now, I truly felt alone. It felt as if I were being led by someone else’s hand. I walked shakily, not knowing if my feet were touching the ground or if I was floating, feeling an unexplained heat within my body as I boarded the plane.
Each member of our team scattered to their respective seats, and I also stowed my luggage and sat down.
But I felt increasingly feverish and nauseous, so I sat with my head down,
continuously praying, "Lord, please help me."
As the plane roared down the runway and soared into the sky, my heart still couldn’t leave Korea. After what seemed like an hour, I awoke to the in-flight meal announcement.
By then, my body was burning with fever, my head ached unbearably, and I began to vomit.
Since our mission team was preparing for medical missions, I asked if we had any fever reducers, but they said all the medications were in the cargo hold.
I then asked the flight stewardess, who regrettably informed me there were no common medications like aspirin or Tylenol on the plane.
Feeling feverish and nauseous, I made repeated trips to the bathroom to vomit.
Exhausted, I asked the flight stewardess if there was a place to lie down, but they said there wasn't, and with the flight being fully booked, there were no empty seats.
Though they brought me water and tried to help, my suffering getting worse.
I had to endure, sitting with my head down to my chest, trembling and trying not to vomit.
I never realized until then how heavy a human head could be and how comfortable it is to be able to stretch one’s legs! For 14 hours, I endured the fever and vomiting until we finally arrived at Karachi Airport.
The moment we landed in Karachi, the place we had prepared and prayed for so long, I was quickly taken to the emergency clinic in a wheelchair.
The small cement room had a cold metal bed with a thin mattress, but I was grateful, crying, that I could rest my heavy head and stretch my legs.
After barely receiving emergency treatment, the our team decided that I could not stay in such a poor hospital. They prepared all the necessary medications and took me to the team's accommodation. and my disease was acute pyelonephritis.
Being surrounded by excellent Korean medical staff, I felt blessed.
Our dear friends from the team took great care of me, and after several weeks, I began to recover.
Before I could even process the pain of separation, it felt like my entire life had been upended. Pushed into an impossible situation early in my pregnancy, I had to endure long hours of fever and vomiting, strapped in a small seat with my seatbelt fastened, leaving a deep fear within me.
I kept asking myself questions with no answers:
‘Why did I have to come so far alone?
Should I have listened to those who advised against this mission and not come at all?’
As I wrestled with God over time, I began to understand that as the wife of a Korean soldier, pregnant and leaving my husband behind, I was standing at a door I could not turn back from.
Like gold refined in a furnace, my fever and vomiting burned away the deep thirst within me, painfully teaching me from the very first step how to overcome the lonely process.
Through the hardships initiated by my naive 27-year-old dedication,
I learned that if I could not avoid the trials of life,
the only way was to endure and pass through them.
Contrary to my soaring passion, my exhausted body, worn out from fever, couldn’t take a proper step as I set foot on my first mission field, Pakistan, in my weakest body, where I needed to show the most love.
