Journey

Life is full of adventure only if you are willing to get lost once in awhile. If you have full control of a roller coaster ride then it's no fun at all because there is amusement and intrigue in the unknown. Adventure is innately spontaneous and therein lies its appeal to the average Indiana John Doe, the part-time backyard archaeologist. The Robinson Crusoes and the Peter Pans of our culture are highly idolized as those who take risks and have fun while doing so. The masses long for the kind of adventure that takes them beyond their limited scope while making sure their scope stays limited once they return. That's when they realize that a simple adventure does not satisfy. They need a journey.

Life is in fact not full, but only sparsely sprinkled with adventure while the entirety of life is a journey. Once you are back from an adventure, you remain the same. You may have pictures to prove where you've been and what you've done, souvenirs to remind you of the good times you had, but once you're back in the comforts of home, nothing has changed and it's life as you know it. On the other hand, a journey changes who you are - your character and identity. You cannot ever be the same again or go back to the old ways of life because what you've experienced on the journey has profoundly impacted your will, your thoughts, and emotions. The paradigm shift no matter how slight becomes the constant tick-tock of a life that's maturing and moving forward in the renewing of the mind. Without it, a life withers and dries and lacks the nourishment of an abundant life. Like growing without growing pains. If an adventure is an unknown roller coaster, a journey is a free fall from space - you don't know where you will land or if you will even survive. Now it may sound like I'm splitting hairs to compare an adventure and a journey, but if you had only one piece of hair, you would use Rogaine then it's quite an important hair to split. Two people can experience the same waterfall, but for one it becomes a light adventure and for another it becomes an epic journey. The main difference is not particularly where or what kind of experience one had (though it plays a significant role), but rather, it's what happens on the inside that changes an adventure into a journey. Perspective. To be more specific, perspective on the cost of the journey. Sacrifice.

A church member at Redeemer was once inspired by Tim Keller's apparent passion for the Lord of the Rings and decided to give it a try. He researched and found that The Hobbit was a prequel to the LOTR trilogy so he began with that one. The Hobbit (which, interestingly enough, has the original subtitle of "There and Back Again") is about Bilbo Baggins, who is the uncle of Frodo Baggins, the main protagonist of the LOTR trilogy. Well, after reading The Hobbit this member didn't find the book interesting, only amusing and even considered putting a halt to his LOTR excursion. Perhaps he didn't see it as epic as Keller did, but in any case he brought this up to Keller. That's when Keller explained that one has to first read the trilogy before the prequel and clarified the difference between the two.

The Hobbit is an adventure. Bilbo Baggins travels outside of his hometown and goes through many death-defying experiences, but once he's back even with the souvenirs of treasures and of course the ring, it's back to the usual life in the Shire (although he finds out he has some broken relationships due to his extended leave). However, the LOTR is a journey. Frodo travels through great lengths to destroy the ring, but once the mission is accomplished, it's not the usual happily ever after. "Frodo cannot escape the pain of his wounds, having been stabbed by the Witch-king and poisoned by Shelob." He does not remain at home but departs for the Undying Lands away from the Shire. He will never be the same again. His life will never be "normal" again. The journey has radically changed him from the inside out.

Perspective. Sacrifice. The proof of our encounter with Jesus is a radically changed life - a new creation - not the old life plus Jesus, but the life of Christ invading and permeating our lives from the inside out through a living, loving Counselor taking up residence in us. We can sit around all day and challenge our brothers and sisters, "Are you seeing from God's perspective or yours?" and "What is it costing you to follow Jesus?" But to the average Christian, it's just that, a challenge. It may become another exciting and even passionate adventure with Jesus, but after the spiritual high and the last night of retreat is over, it's right back to the old ways of life. With our lips we pray, "Lead us up the mountain" while our hearts demand, "just as long as we don't have to climb."

An adventure with Jesus might leave you satisfied with temporary treasures and a ring, but a journey with Jesus gives you an everlasting life of love and joy after the "I do." The beauty of our relationship with Jesus is when we don't even realize we are picking up the cross and following after him. It's when we are zealously captivated and enamored by His love for us. So we keep on pressing on, getting back up and keep on running not paying attention to what might happen to us. Wounds, pains, heartache, sickness, hardship, turmoil, storms, confusion, homelessness, persecution, and death means NOTHING when we realize that Jesus is EVERYTHING. And in this journey of loving Jesus more and more, we may have scars that may never heal on this side of heaven, but the moment we see Jesus face to face and see all His scars He took on for us we'll be able to say as we fall into His gentle, loving embrace, "It was all worth it."

You are so worthy Jesus. You are so worth it.

Ran Dumb In Sights

> Driving around Korea was unnerving at first but I got the hang of it pretty quickly. Basically, the blinker is only a suggestion. Like "please?... maybe?... may I lane change right now because if I miss this exit I will end up with a 10 minute detour?" Of course, the answer I get is always Heck No. This is the land of Burger King. You better have it your way and make your own path even if it means causing a 5 car combo collision in another lane cuz ain't nobody spoon feedin' you nothin.' After almost 3 hours of driving south of Seoul I was in the countryside where people were either color blind or interpreting red lights to mean 'go-whenever-you-feel-like-going.' I admit, I ran some red lights too, but that was only because everyone was doing it. gosh. What would they think of me if I followed the rules like some ignorant foreigner. And you know what they say, "When in Rome..."

> Speaking of driving, you cannot go anywhere in Korea without a navi (navigation system). You die in Korea without a navi. Like, you just die... as you pay for unknown speeding tickets from hidden cameras, which the navi magically reveals 700 meters before you can say "What's that camera doing there?" They say there are 3 women that a Korean man must listen to for his own survival: his mother, his wife, and his navi.

> Visiting my cousins' houses (not apartments) I noticed that Korea is the perfect playground to hardcore parkour. It seems like everyone's roof, which is more like an outdoor attic, is intricately connected somehow. Standing there looking across the landscape with my hands on my waist and my cape furiously blowing in the wind I was so tempted to just run and jump from building to building and shoot webs out of my hands while smashing pots full of bean paste... trust me you just have to be there.

> I have taken trash cans for granted. Here, you basically need to use google maps to find trash cans. I spent way too much time looking for trash cans than I should in a life time. I ended up emptying out a handful of trash from my pockets at the end of each day... and even then I had to search around the house for one.

> Rest stops along the freeway are mini-oases and I actually look forward to the bowl of 우동 (udon) and bag of 호두과자 (hodoo gwaja) and 아이스크림 (ah-ee-sss-ku-reem) that you can find at each rest stop. Also, I tried my hand at the crane game for 100 won (~10 cents) and I KNOW I had that angry bird doll in my grip, but the crane suddenly "slipped"  and let go while coming back up. Lamesauce.

> I thank God for whoever invented the air conditioner. The AC has been my best friend this summer. Also, my dad.

> Shopping in Korea... is the same. Shopping is shopping. Boring and tiring, but a little more... 'colorful' here than in the States. As usual, my relatives spoil me. I might have to start my own shopping haul youtube channel. It'll be called "Korea is the Fabulous!"

> I gained more than 5 kgs in Korea (sorry I can't do the math and google is too many mouse spaces away). Ever since I escaped from my mother's womb with a 6 pack I've never had a belly, but I found myself sucking in my stomach when they had me try on a suit at the Lotte department store ("Can you even button up thYES I CAN!") and also whenever someone "important" was walking by... lolwut? why? Natural instinct? Not so sure. Imagine a skinny guy slouching over and hanging down his arms with his butt sticking out and flexing and tucking in his stomach causing a constipated look on his face saying, "heyyy.... lady." 

> Last Sunday, I visited Full Gospel church in Yeoido, which is the largest church in the world with over 1,000,000 church members (2007). And wow, it was a sight to behold. I don't even... I can't even put into words the sheer amount of people gathered together to worship and this was only the 4th service out of 7. There were staff members and ushers everywhere bowing 90 degrees as we entered. ATM-like machines to give offering via credit card along with personalized envelopes for offering receipts. Cameras to broadcast live on the big screens. Buses to transport people coming from all over Seoul. English, Japanese, and Chinese lyrics to all the songs. Full orchestra and choir. And that particular day a college group from Germany and China had come to visit and so the church welcomed them. The big boss himself, Pastor Yonggi Cho spoke that day as well. It was about giving thanks in all circumstances. I was reminded once again there's a vast ocean out there, outside this bubble, a whole spiritual landscape of saints called to worship in spirit and in truth. I am merely a drop in the ocean, a vapor in the mist, a flower quickly fading, but somehow when God's Words of living water are unleashed and sent forth through His faithful messengers these drops become infinitely precious and loved in His sight. The creations heart resonates with the Creator's voice. A picture perfect symphony. Can't wait for heaven.

> I translated for a group of foreign missionaries today and I think I have the gift... the gift of making up stuff when I have no idea what to say as if I really know what I'm saying... all that with a big, confident, million dollar smile on my face. In moments like these I think it would be nice if everyone had the gift of tongues and interpretation. No translators necessary. (Curse you, wretched men of Babel Tower!) The conference held about 600-700 people, who are all pastors, Sunday school teachers, missionaries, MKs, student volunteer missionaries, board members of missions organizations, businessmen who devote their time and money, and Jesus freaks. I was incredibly challenged by the pure and holy devotion and commitment that each of them had for His kingdom. That unshakable, pioneer spirit that steps out by faith into the unknown and unreached. That untouchable will that counts death as mere child's play and life worth nothing but rubbish, only to know Christ and make Him known. Dang. I'm humbled.

> This trip feels like that blank page between chapters in a book. Overlooked but necessary. It's a distinguishing mark, a checkpoint, that refreshes the mind as it reflects on the story and sets the stage for the following act. If anything I have grown so so so super duper so much more mature through this experience...

> But I'm still Batman.

Motherland

Here in the motherland. Father and son. Missionary hostel room 601. Humidity: Sticky. A/C: Blessing. Late-night grocery shopping. Ice cream eating. 2% drinking. Still sticky. Olympic watching. Judo fighting. Kim Jae Bum rooting. How is it that we can root for a complete stranger simply based on a common nationality. Citizens of heaven. Great cloud of witnesses. Pass the baton. Beautiful cycle.

It's time for some Seoul searchin'.

Handshake

As I was walking past the VIP door on my way back to the dorms I saw him being escorted down the hall. My heart skipped two beats.  I gasped. I waited. The moment he stepped out, I split his two escorts and reached out my hand saying, "Pastor John! Thank you, I needed that message." He shook my hand, smiled, and then he was gone. I turned back towards the dorms with one piercing thought in mind: holy ambition.

Also, I didn't want to wash my hands...

Fixed

He had a bone, he gave it to a woman

He didn't need a tent for the Garden was grand

But he desired to be the one in command

because he had his eyes fixed on his own master plan

The Master counted his folly as mortal transgression

and there he became the father of the fallen, Adam.

He had a home, but he became a nomad

He pitched his tents in no man's land

But it didn't matter when the times got bad

because he had his eyes fixed on the Passover Lamb.

The Provider counted his faith as righteousness,

and there he became the father of the faithful, Abraham.

He had a throne, but he became a mere man.

He had no tent, no home, and no land

But he endured the scorn, shame, and scheme of man

because he had his eyes fixed on the joy at the Father's right hand

The Father counted his obedience as a pleasing sacrifice

and there he became the Savior, Redeemer

Author and Perfecter of our faith, Jesus Christ.

I Know Why the Songbird Sings

The songbird is caught in its own melody

black ink lures her with perfect harmony

Five lines now vertical

behind bars now vertigo

Pulse is measured and time is anonymous

One and three become synonymous

The lock's in place and the key's on G

Dots and flags become the ball and chain

You see,

Songbirds are meant to sing

of the freedom of spring

Nature abandoned on the back of her wings

awakens the Symphony

Sun rays spotlight the conductor of winds

weaving red quilts and separation from sins

The blue opens up and her expression begins

to make way for Epiphany

But when the songbird is mocked

and her song is imitated

clouds become chalk

synthetically created

Though heaven and earth will always be debated

truth and its parody can never be related

Feather the heaviness and let the voice be

Ears see the vision of joy and pain

You see,

Songbirds are meant to sing

of the freedom of spring

Nature abandoned on the back of her wings

awakens the Symphony

Sun rays spotlight the conductor of winds

weaving red quilts and separation from sins

The blue opens up and her expression begins

to make way for Epiphany

Peace of Me

They say that the longest distance in the universe is from the head to the heart. We say we know in whole but behave like we only know in part. Vague like abstract art. We are all bobbleheads living in a world of walking deads. We know so much but we never get ahead. So much to do and so little commitment.

We try to separate revelation from salvation with the injection of the poison of false hope and human determination. "How much do you want it?" Wrong question. "What's the point?" Pay no attention because by our own definition, picking up the cross and sharing in Christ's affliction means that by the sweat of our own brow we will build our heavenly mansion. It's a combination of worldly passion and selfish ambition whitewashed with a thick layer of pious conviction.

Look around and see the myriad of laws surrounding us under the guise of dealing with the flaws pertaining to us. The same ones we've built up in the name of loving Jesus. We call it the house of prayer but really it's become a house of mirrors with no way to correct our own errors. There must be a hand somewhere to wipe the dirt. Blood to wash the sin-stained shirt. And yet, we're still caught up in the activities of yesteryear except maybe this time around we add one more day of prayer and replace the pews with detachable chairs. Traditionally modern. Newly ancient. Old is not better. New is not newer. Do's and dont's like we're machines during lent. Lots of Movements but no improvement.

So it seems we hit the snooze button as much as we hit up our old "friends." It's obviously easier to stop when you reach a dead end. Then the familiar becomes comfortable, the comfortable becomes lovable, and the lovable becomes impossible to forsake and repent. And even in the moments of clarity, the cold winds of change and the premature fears of the brain convince us otherwise, to stay warm inside, to stay there and hide, to stay where you're filled with lies, least alive, passion dies, until we realize we will never arrive no matter how hard we try. It's the classic case of a seed sown among thorns. Choked up yet never fully mourned because when it comes time to choose "whom you will serve" we're rarely torn. Perhaps we've lost sight of our born-again identity; spiritual amnesia a la Jason Bourne.

When everything is not what it seems and seems to be out of order, it's not enough to simply redefine words and redraw the borders, especially when the preacher's got a chip on his shoulder. It's not enough to flex every spiritual muscle just to raise a hand in a place full of grace instead of using the same energy to give a hand to those who really need grace. It's not enough. It'll never be enough even if we're actually determined to run this race based on faith. We might as well huff and puff. Transform ourselves, built Ford tough. Fight off all crime and sin like we're Scruff McGruff. But how quickly we forget that His grace is sufficient and that He is more than enough.

And we're back in the house of mirrors. Only this time around I'm on my knees in desperate prayer. I've seen enough of me and my will. I need these shiny walls to shatter to see the blood of Christ that covers me. No more building, it's time to start breaking. It's time to be broken. There is absolutely nothing I have done to come to this point in this journey of knowing and loving Christ more. Dead men can't choose life, let alone choose to obey Christ to somehow obtain everlasting life. Any sign of life in me is Christ in me. Any sign of obedience is the Spirit in me. Any love reflects the Father who loves me. We begin by grace and so we end by grace. My disgrace covered by His grace to be exact. I used to be on fire for Jesus and ready to do His will, but grace amazing found me and led me to the Good News of Jesus Christ, how He did it already and said, "It is finished." Now I'm enjoying HIS passion and all consuming fire and HIS will is being done in me. HE is that link from the head to the heart, not my own efforts or hours of meditation. HE is that piece that completes the picture, not my own skills or hours of perfection. In other words, less of me and more of Jesus. In other words, I become nothing and Jesus becomes everything.

In other words, Jesus is my everything.