Exceptionally Sweet

My birthday was a day to remember. It was one of those sweet days when you crawl into bed and are simply overwhelmed by the goodness of God in your life.

The day began with Youth Bible Study at church. The students had prepared a surprise party for me when we ascended the stairs to our classroom. It was replete with balloons, gifts, and special presentations. One of my sweet students named Jessica had prepared a few songs on her violin for the occasion. She began with the birthday song. She closed with “Nearer, my God, to Thee.” It nearly brought me to tears.

They also gave me some very entertaining, home-made cards. One of the cards read, “Dear Paul, you have a bald head, but I like you.” Another read, “Remember when I asked how you are? Your face looked gray that day.”

The spread of gifts was incredible. It included the very thoughtful and practical. As you will see in the picture below, I was blessed with shirts, socks, hand fans, shaving cream, a wallet, a hand towel, a handkerchief, cologne, and a massager. Elder Jung had even put a $2 bill in the wallet.


One of my class clowns also gave me a little brown box, spring-loaded with a decorated ping pong ball that shot out at me. His father would later invite me to play ping pong with their family next week!


Of course, I was also entertained when Pastor Lee announced my birthday in church. He said, “Today is Pastor Paul’s birthday. I think he is really Korean because he even loves to eat spicy octopus. I hope he also marries a Korean girl and lives here forever.” Elder Jung said at lunch, “It is now our church mission to find you a girlfriend!”

Another part of the “exceptionally sweet” day was the amount of food we ate. In Korean culture, most meetings center on food. The people here are always looking for a reason to eat together! (Of course, I think that is a part of church culture anywhere!) The students and I enjoyed orange juice and choco-pies for breakfast, covered in cool whip and chocolate pearls. Fellowship lunch was specially prepared for me, after they learned that I loved a dish here called Deonkas. It is like a fried pork chop with barbeque sauce. The meal ended with more chocolate cake.

My amazing roommate Young Gwang, his beautiful girlfriend Hyun Joo, and my dear friend DL took me for a birthday dinner at VIP’s Steak and Salad Bar. They remembered how much I loved it the first time. We ate the lion’s share of ribs, fried chicken, soft tacos, and shrimp. Also, I am still blown away by the creative and ultra fresh salad combos, including “tapioca ginseng nut” and “chilled mango cranberry.” We topped off our meal with more dessert, including cheese cake and Pepsi floats.

The day was…simply perfect. Another cool thing, I celebrated my 30th birthday in Korea, due to the calendar here (I am still 29 by US age). So, if I return to the US, I will be able to celebrate the same birthday again next year (age 30)! This reminds me of a friend of mine who has been celebrating her 29th birthday for years. Now, she simply honors anniversaries of that birthday.

Also exceptionally sweet—when June 20th ended here in Korea, the party kept going in the US. I am 14 hours ahead here. So, I got to hear birthday wishes from friends and family around the world for two days straight.

Space doesn’t allow me to detail all the wonderful blessings that also came from my support network outside Korea—including the thoughtful emails, Skype voicemails, Facebook posts, blog comments, care packages, and even a YouTube video!

Thanks to everyone for loving and blessing this bald-headed, sometimes gray-faced, and always undeserving man! You make my life exceptionally sweet.

Mile Marker 30

I was teaching the boys about conjunctive adverbs (namely, sequencing words) by having them share a story about a toy school bus. I asked them, “Where all did it travel on its journey?” Max made it riveting, using the entire classroom as his stage.

“First, it jumped over this chair and onto the table. Then, it went up the piano. Next, it went through the tunnel {through the closet door handles}. After that, it drove up a slow mountain {along the back wall}. Next, it swam in the water {on blue text books}. Then, it went all the way to the moon {thrown up at the ceiling}!”

I was honestly impressed by his story. I was excited for the ending, as his eyes kept getting wider and wider as he told it. I prompted him, “Finally…”

He proceeded to make the bus do slow flips in the air, until it came crashing to the ground, on its side. He made several explosion noises before he announced, “Finally, it died.” I couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. I wasn’t expecting that.

Yet another part of me was saddened by the tragic ending. That brave little bus made it all the way to the moon and back! Why not arrive home to a hero’s welcome? But, after thinking about it a little more, I thought to myself: “Maybe I shouldn’t be so distraught by the final outcome that I overlook the amazing stops along the way. That bus just had the ride of its life! It could have just stayed parked and let its engine rust.”

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This Sunday, June 20th, I turn 30 years old. Well, by the Western calendar, I will be 29. In Korea, they count the time in your mother’s womb as 1 year. So, when you are born, you are already 1. I think that’s a beautiful thing—to embrace the truth that life begins at conception, not birth (even if it means entering my 30’s a year sooner than expected).

Something about Max’s story and my looming birthday made me very thankful for the adventure that my life has been thus far. I know it’s still a relatively young journey, but it has not been short on mileage. I have had stops on almost every continent now. I have come quite a distance since leaving Crawford, TX (population 625).

My friend and pastor Matt Chandler shared a beautiful passage (and scriptural promise) at our decompression retreat, after our team returned from China. It was Luke 18:28-30, which reads: “And Peter said, ‘See, we have left our homes and followed you.’ And he said to them, ‘Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or wife or brothers or parents or children, for the sake of the kingdom of God, who will not receive many times more in this time, and in the age to come eternal life.’” Matt said that, when we are obedient to follow, God blesses us with “family” all over the globe. Our “homes” are multiplied, and our joy is increased while we wait for eternity.

One of my most recent “homes” was located at 3806 Elizabeth in Carrollton, TX. It didn’t belong to me. It was a generous blessing of rent-free living from an amazing couple (whom I had the joy of marrying several years ago) while I waited on the Lord to reveal the next stretch of the highway. In the bathroom, there was a placard that read: “Count your age by friends, not years. Count your life by smiles, not tears.”

In that way, I am a very old man! So many kindred spirits have coached me, run with me, refreshed me, and sometimes even carried me for various legs of my race. I am truly blessed with family all over the world. And, my life has indeed been “rich” if you count the smiles. I have had some sorrow. But it pales compared to the joy.

Yet I have an enduring sense that my final destination is somewhere other than earth. I can never get too comfortable with the view from here or feel that I fully belong, lest I mistake this hotel of a planet for my dream home in heaven. As C.S. Lewis once wrote, “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.” The Apostle Paul once said, “But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God (Acts 20:24).”

I am not a brave man. I still have a propensity to sweat even the small stuff. But I am humbled by the grace of God that, in the scheme of things, through that daily feeling of “other-ness,” I often conquer the “fear of the tragic ending.” If I was worried that every step might result in imminent doom, I would have never left Crawford, never moved from Abilene, never flew out of DFW, never landed in Romania, never lived in China, never experienced Kenya, and never moved to South Korea.

I have found freedom along this road: No decision of mine—whether good or bad—can alter where I am heading eternally. No emotion that I feel—whether happy or sad—can change who He is eternally. And nothing—even angels or demons—can separate me from His love. “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain (Philippians 1:21).”

Here’s the reality—I am going to die some day. I know we don’t like to talk about it, but it’s going to happen. No matter when or how that comes about, it doesn’t discount the amazing stops I have had along the way—not to mention the amazing place I will be going, the amazing saints I will be joining, the amazing banquet we will be sharing, the amazing grace I will be singing about, and the amazing King who I will be beholding forever. Until then, I am so glad that the Lord, and the people He’s placed around me, haven’t just let me sit at home and let my engine rust.

So long, mile marker 30! I look forward to what’s ahead.

Slow to Anger, Abounding in Love

It seems that my skeptic student Yu Bin is thinking a lot about God these days. He often makes mention of God in class, whether in earnest or jest.

When I was doing a lesson on “going to the hospital,” I explained the word emergency. I said, “It means it is very serious. If you do not help the person, they may die.” He observed, “You said that if you die, you believe you will go to heaven. So do you think it is an emergency if you are hurt?”

One afternoon, I heard a student crying in the hallway. When Yu Bin came into the class, he said, “That little boy is angry.” I asked him, “Why is he angry?” Yu Bin replied, with all sincerity and not a hint of sarcasm, “I do not know. I am not God!”

A few weeks ago, he told me, “I tried to pray to God, but it didn’t work.” I smiled and said, “Oh really, what happened?” He retorted, “You told us that when you believe in God, you can do all things. But I prayed, and God did not give me a present!”

…

After the big show in April, Rafael’s mother asked me what I thought about teaching children in Korea. I told her that it has brought me a lot of joy, but that it has also had its share of challenges. I explained that the unruly classroom behavior took some getting used to, but that I had worked out a system of positive reinforcement.

She asked me, “Do you speak Korean to the students?” I said, “I hope to speak Korean some day, but for now I am only speaking English. Perhaps it may help to learn some simple Korean instructions though.”

What she said next caught me off guard—and, for some reason, caused a weight of conviction. She replied: “It is said that the first phrases that American teachers learn to say to the students here are ‘hurry up’ and ‘don’t do that.’”

…

Some days, I see clearly why God sent me to South Korea. Yes, to serve my students at English Village, the members at Evergreen Church, and the community of Suwon. But also—to sanctify ME!

Yu Bin keeps me on my toes these days. He is listening to what I am saying, and he is thinking about it. At this point, he may very well think that I have a death wish—that I want to be in heaven more than on earth. He also misunderstood my meaning of “all things.” I was speaking about overcoming difficulty in our lives. He thought it to mean, “I can get whatever I want if I believe in God.”

I sometimes feel a need to defend myself and say, “That is not what I meant at all!” And in my heart, I can feel this: “Don’t say that! That is not true! Would you see the point already? Don’t pray like that! We should pray for faith in God, not the magic power to get gifts from Santa Claus!” I have a very impatient heart. At times, I want the students to just “hurry up” and get it already!

Today I cooked chili and cornbread for our church. After student Bible study, I was heading to the kitchen when two of the boys asked, “Can we help you cook?” At first, I tried to think of reasons to say “no.” I wanted everything to turn out perfectly, and I feared that their “help” may mean hindrance. But then it hit me—am I again chasing after imagined results at the expense of honest and heartfelt inquiries? Isn’t this a chance to make disciples too? Wouldn’t it be a blessing to them and me? Who cares if it’s a little messy? You should have seen their joy in the kitchen and excitement to watch the members eat what they had prepared together with me.

My cousin Janet (who is beautiful, inside and out) wrote something to me, which is best read in her own words: ““Why silence the questions? Questioning is, in itself, a movement of the Spirit. So many people do not question and do not think, which often leads to complacency and a belief that ‘if I just show up at church once in a while that is all I need.’ … Questioning keeps God on (our) mind and in his presence. He apparently does not want a blind unquestioning faith; he wants a deeper understanding, a depth of knowledge of God. I don't think enough Christians think and question and ask how to see God in their every day life. He is not just a Sunday kind of thing.”

T.S. Eliot once wrote that “an honest doubter becomes the true believer.” Some days, though, I notice that I have exported pride and impatience along with my practice of discipleship. Yes, it is loving when we teach a child to avoid the street, by saying: “Don’t get on the street, for a car may come and hit you!” And, if the child is on the street and the car is indeed coming, it would also be loving to yell out, “Hurry and get off that street before you are hit!”

But on the path that leads to eternal life, it can also be unloving for us Christians to try to demand speed and perfection from our disciples in terms of growth. Worse, we elevate our own systems, opinions, perceptions, and traditions over the heart of Him who really oversees the process of sanctification. He is, after all, “a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from disaster” (Jonah 4:2).

Perhaps, in churches today, we too often say to young believers: “Hurry up, and learn the rules around here! You only have a short time before we grow tired of your old ways of rule breaking—and you don’t make the cut. Then, you are out of the club!” Even more tragic, that may be our views on evangelism! Just make sure that seekers get their lives “cleaned up” according to our standards—not their lives transformed by the gospel of Christ’s love. We try to change ourselves and others from the outside-in.

I am growing more and more okay with being misunderstood for my faith. Moreover, I am learning how to let go of perfectionistic control—and to watch God do His work (Mark 4:26-29). I have seen that, if I am not ready to speak the truth in love—I have forfeited the right to speak the truth in that moment (Ephesians 4:15). It is not my job to argue people into the kingdom of God, but teach them patiently (2 Timothy 2:24-26). I am slowly dividing the biblical life of faith from cultural opinions and practices.

But chiefly, I am learning to worship and adore a God who is slow to anger, abounding in love—who only from the purest heart would ever exclaim, “Hurry up! Don’t do that!”

Good Medicine

Some things are simply funny. There are also times in cultural adaptation that can feel random, awkward, or strange. You learn to see the humor in those moments too. Laughter can diffuse any number of other emotions that one might feel and turn it into a sweet memory. Perhaps that’s part of what the Proverb means when it tells us: “A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones” (17:22).

This week, I would like to share some humorous highlights of my time here:


During my first big dinner outing with friends to VIP’s Steak and Salad Bar, we tried a variety of things that were new for all of us. They introduced me to popular Korean cuisine, while I introduced them to ice cream floats. One of the new menu items for me was sea snails. Before learning from Young Gwang how to pull one from its shell and eat it, I asked him: “What does it taste like?” He contemplated and replied, “I think it tastes like…ocean.” For the record, he was right.

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Last month, we were handing out water bottles to families attending Sports Day. We made stickers to cover the labels, with information about our school. We also made flyers with info about our church. Since I couldn’t do any of the talking, I walked around with Principal Yu and carried the supplies. I had two large bags filled with cold water bottles hanging over my shoulders, and two shopping bags of flyers in my hands. When we were running low, some church members would refill the bags. It soon became very humorous to everyone around that I was just carrying large loads of handouts but unable to really talk to anyone at the event. So I was affectionately given a new nickname here: Donkey. But let’s be honest—"associate pastor” is synonymous with “beast of burden” in any culture!

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Speaking of donkeys—I am asked to read a story each week to the students out of a book of fables. We hope to improve their comprehension by having them listen and respond to questions. You may imagine why I had a lot of trouble keeping a straight face when I was asked to read the story entitled: “The Ass in the Lion’s Skin.” Sorry if it was just the “middle school” boy part of me that was holding back giggles.

But it got better. Here is how the story went: “An ass found a lion’s skin which a hunter had to put in the sun to dry. The ass put on the lion’s skin and walked through the forest. The ass scared all the little animals. He was so proud of himself. He had much fun scaring the other animals. The ass also tried to scare a fox. But the fox recognized his voice. ‘You aren’t a lion! You look like a lion, but you sound like an ass.’”

That’ll preach! I have actually thought of a few sermons since.

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Last weekend, one of the students wanted to impress me by translating our church bulletin from Korean into English before youth Bible study. The first line he wrote on the whiteboard was “Welcome to Always Blue Church.” I was grinning as I corrected it to “Evergreen Church.” Wow, what a difference a translation can make! I am not sure that people would want to come to a church that is constantly depressed (though I think some may exist).

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My male students are prone to interrupt lessons and share stories in class, especially if it means one-upping each other. You should have heard all the “oh yeah, well my fish was THIS big” kind of stories that came out during my lesson on hospital visits.

One boy claimed that he fell down the stairs and hurt himself. The next boy said that he fell out of a window and broke many bones. The next boy topped that when he said: “I was dead, but I became not dead again.” He then pretended to be a zombie.

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A very inventive idea came from Anne during that same lesson. When I suggested that they put an ice pack on sprained ankles or wrists, she offered this thought: “You can put fruit juice in the ice pack, and after it is no longer ice, you can drink it. Your stomach will be very happy too.” I may just plan to market that some day.

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Elder Jung told me a story that made me laugh about my own language mistakes (including the time in China when I told the apartment manager that I needed to “lose weight,” instead of “pay the water bill”). He was living in New Zealand when he tried to order a pizza by phone. He successfully requested a pizza before the man asked him: “Cash or check?” Elder Jung thought that the man was asking about side dishes, like they offer here in Korea. So he replied: “Chicken.” The man asked again, to which Elder Jung said: “I like chicken.” There was silence on the other end before the man finally said, “Ok, that will be $10.”

Elder Jung then told me, “After I learned later what he was really asking, I think that man couldn’t wait to get off the phone and tell others about the crazy Asian!”

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Last week, one of my students randomly asked me, “Do you like Michael Jackson?” I told him that I liked his music, and he exclaimed, “He is very, very, very (…this went on for a while) GOOD!” Then he excitedly asked me: “Do you know Billie Jean?” I began singing the chorus, while hoping no one would ask me what the word “lover” means.

He broke into a moon walk, ending with what might have been the robot. Not to be outdone, another student channeled her inner Mariah by belting out “When You Believe.” All of this, of course, had nothing to do with my lesson. But it sure was fun.