have breakfast in Singapore
New Chapter of Mission!
Singapore was always hot. However, sometimes it felt as if God poured down heavy rain from the sky like buckets, deepening the green across the entire country and washing away all the grime of life.
Everywhere we went in Singapore, and in every home, there was air conditioning. I was so grateful to have cool air even for a moment, and it made me think that Singapore was indeed a good place to live.
While staying at the missionary guest room of the Korean Church in Singapore, our whole family, along with my grandmother, explored the city together. Finally, I prepared to return to Korea to wrap up three years of missionary work in Pakistan and finalize things with the mission organization.
One day, my husband and I had a long talk, something we hadn't done in a while. Although I knew how he had been doing through the letters he sent me, he told me how he suddenly had to leave Pakistan and how, through one of missionary introduction, he came to Singapore and started this training. He shared how much closer to God he felt through this training and how happy it made him.
"Honey, you've worked so hard all this time. I think it would be good for you to take this training too. It's a gift I want to give you for all your hard work. I'll take care of the kids, so let's stay here together with the missionaries."
But to me, having just come out of a war from the field, his suggestion sounded like an invitation to prepare for another battle.
"Training? I've had plenty of training.
Please don't push me any further. I'm done."
I then suggested that we couldn't keep living without a plan, and that it was time to go back to Korea and live a normal life like everyone else.
"Since you were an officer, you can get a good job, and I can return to work at the hospital." I kept trying to persuade him.
Not long after I had prayed and thanked God,
I realized that my reaction showed unresolved anger within me.
At that time, I was in such an emotional state that if someone had told me to do something, I could have exploded and not only hurt myself but also everyone around me with all the pent-up feelings I had been hiding.
But now that I had reunited with my husband, whom I had missed so much, and our family was finally together,
I couldn't just keep complaining, getting angry,
and exploding all the time, could I?
While I was helping the people in that land, I was also dealing with all the inevitable pains, as well as all the unfair and painful situations I had to overcome while living alone with the children. My emotions were far from being understood or resolved.
Perhaps the resentment and sorrow were still brewing in my heart, and even though time had passed, the leftover fear was still churning deep inside.
More importantly, my lingering disappointment with God, who kept putting me through training, was shaking my faith deeply. I knew too well the meaning of the words "training" and "commitment, " so it was hard to accept them.
"Maybe you don't realize how hard I've had it because you've been in this nice place all along. I'm really disappointed. Now that our family is finally together, why do you want to go somewhere else?"
I muttered angrily as I left the kids with my grandmother and took a walk by myself. Even though I acted as if I was a strong missionary who had overcome everything, deep inside, I felt deeply disappointed with God.
The decision to become a missionary meant embracing all these pains, which I knew well, so I had charged ahead, believing I could handle it because I understood poverty.
But now I realized that knowing something in my head and living it out with my whole body were completely different things.
Whenever I had time, I would go to a corner of the missionary guest room and cry my heart out, pouring out all my sadness, pain, and unfairness to God, along with my tears and snot.
Seeing me, my grandmother strongly said,
"I know you've had a hard time. But God hasn't said your life is over, so why are you making such a fuss?
Do you know why I ran here to live with you? I admired and envied you for pursuing something big in your life.
You wanted to do this, so why are you feeling so wronged? When a person makes a decision, it's never too late to see it through, even if it's hard and you end up regretting it later.
And honestly, have you been the only one suffering? What about the lives of those two children who have had to endure your journey?
Pull yourself together! You're now the mother of two children, you know? Some mothers, like your own, have to live their whole lives in pain. But you need to become a hardworking mother, don't you?
Your husband is asking you to keep going on the path you chose to follow him down, so why are you feeling so wronged? Anyway, I'm on your husband side.
Stop just praying desperately; get up and get yourself together! You have a long way to go!"
Her words felt like they were bringing all the nerves in my brain back to their proper place. I felt so ashamed of myself, like I was just whining. I had been truly struggling, but I cried my heart out in her arms.
She seemed to understand my situation better than anyone else.
As I wept in her warm embrace, I could throw away all the garbage in my heart into the trash can. Her words made me realize that I had been dangerously close to throwing away even the precious time I had painfully overcome, all because of my emotions.
In the remaining days, my husband met with the foreign missionaries he had been living with. This organization seemed to be a place where international missionaries gathered to work together, not only sending missionaries from Singapore but also around the world, sharing and cooperating wonderfully.
I learned that the leaders had been praying for me and my children. Every missionary I met was so kind, encouraging me despite the difficulty I had in communicating in English. They might not have fully understood all my sufferings, but they continued to remind me of the value of the work God had allowed me to do in such a tough place. They kindly hugged me, prayed for me, and continued to encourage me.
So I told my husband, "Just as you followed me to a distant place, if you believe that this path is the way of mission and that it's God's calling for our family, I will go with you, along with our two children."
My husband and I, in the corner of a large parking lot, encouraged each other and decided once again to take up the challenge.
After spending three years hiding and barely surviving, God sent many people to comfort me, untangle everything I had tightly suppressed, and help me stand up again.
I had always wondered if God noticed me, a small wildflower growing flat on the ground among tall reed fields. Now I knew. God had been watching me every moment and had always been with me.
Thus, a new chapter of my mission life was beginning, even for someone as young and wounded as me.
