Funny Love

Mom, noon, and I used to tell funny stories and do funny things that made us laugh so hard all 3 of us would be on the floor holding our stomachs in pain with tears overflowing to uncontrollable smiles. This is how I got my 6 packs. There was one story in particular that mom used to tell us that got us rolling for 10 minutes at a time. I call it the eye story, or to be exact, the double-eyelid story.

The story (summary) goes something like this, but it's funnier when mom tells it:

There was a Korean woman who wanted to look pretty so she went to the plastic surgeon. She decided to get double eyelid surgery. However, the surgeon messed up on the operation, and she ended up not being able to blink or close her eyes. And now when she sleeps she looks like a fish!

AHAHAHAHAHA <- we laugh like that. Mom would actually lay down with her eyes wide open to show us how the woman would sleep and the three of us would start CRACKING UP. And when we thought all the funny was squeezed out, mom would do it again! Messed up. Noon and I would be gasping for air and on the verge of dying, but that would make all of us laugh even more. and the rest is history... written on my abs.

"So what do you like to do?"

"I love talking on the phone with my son."

<3

got MiLK?

Part of me says that it doesn't matter. My input has no absolute effect on the output. It says that although I can make change, the change would have happened regardless of what I did so sit back and enjoy the ride. Another part of me agrees, but wants so eagerly to see and experience the change itself. Though in secret, it only agrees because it does not want to waste time solving paradoxes and it does not like being ridiculed by the other. And little by little the smile hatches and life is undeniable. Unquenchable. Truth is, I don't fight fire with fire. I fight fire with oil... what?

The milk becomes meat, and meat becomes flesh.
Flesh becomes words and words become life.

Victory is already here. The dream is in motion. It's time to see the world change.

Carry On

Enthusiasm vs. Anointing

In the blue corner, we have Enthusiasm. He can get people pumped up and excited for anything - a prayer meeting, praise night, retreat, EVing, listening to a speaker, fasting, the next big revival. In the red corner, we have Anointing - Quiet and reserved yet dominant and powerful. He might not always look cool or ever draw a crowd, but he pierces through flesh and bones and infiltrates the critical points - heart issues, love, relationships, sacrifice, humility, life. Thing is, we're not in a boxing ring, we're on a battlefield. And whoever you side with determines whether you win or lose.

Are you living off the passion of other people, or do you have an undying, unquenchable passion that wells out of you? Or do you not have passion at all? By passion I mean the 'suffering' that leads to hope that makes way for Love. We know the true source of passion is Jesus Christ. So now what? At the end of the day, when you are on your own, what do you have left? The ministry you served at? The book of theology you explicated? The number of Christian books that you read or the number of verses you memorized? The number of people you've led to Jesus? The amount of sermons in your ipod? The times you shared your faith and struggles with brothers and sisters? Or maybe the guilt of not having done anything "Christian."

"When the music fades and all is stripped away..."

I am in no way ruling out or denying these things because I am a product of all of that and I continue to learn and grow through them. What I'm saying is if I believe that Jesus is the ultimate mediator, the Great High Priest, between me and God, why do I find myself in such deep reliance on these secondary sources of God, and rarely find the need (and the time) to spend time with God Himself - in His Word and in prayer? This is not a discussion of accountability or an undermining of community, but simply a focus on the personal relationship I have with God. This is not about new age spirituality or do-it-yourself meditation to 'get' God. This is also not a plea for single player Christianity for that would be an oxymoron. The more I count my blessings and the myriad of godly, biblical resources at my fingertips (internet/books/etc.), the more I realize that I've become complacent and calloused to what matters most. Everything is fed to me with a golden baby bottle and I never leave the stroller in the pretense of being 'protected' and 'provided.'

Let me go back to the First Love.

Every generation changes with time, but only God and His Word is everlasting. No matter how timely and timeless a book, sermon, or quote is - that's still them - what about you? What are you going to do with Jesus today?

Remix #9: Remixed to spend more all my time with Dad.

Lift up

I got a Moleskine yesterday, thanks to bbq. I am ecstatically excited.

After sister K shared about journaling every single day I took it to heart and wanted to begin. So I have.

What is written is better than what is remembered.
-yeoman-

I learn a lot, but I forget even more. Writing/journaling helps me remember and recall my thoughts from specific times - events, conversations, dreams, sermons, and especially (96% of the time) what I've learned from the Word. This is not just an exposition of the Bible, but more of a combined picture of my life at those certain stages. While this is true, the said quote actually refers to making [spiritual] footprints for others, not necessarily to follow, but to learn from and to build up. What's so great about having such a great memory if I never share my memories with anyone all the way to my grave? What if Moses kept everything to himself and never wrote anything down? What if Matthew, Mark, and all my homies thought it was enough to remember their experience with Jesus and never wrote it down? After all, at least they got the Gospel, right? Good for them, but not good for anyone else. Put another way, if my thoughts are physically laid out before me I'm not the only one with the access.

As the Word of God grips me more and more to lift up a new generation of Jesus lovers, I begin to see less of me and more of God, and by extension, more of others. From my immediate perspective, yes, I do write to remember the walk, but ultimately my mind is set on the walk of my brothers and sisters. And mind you, I'm not some selfless monk who's got the whole world in his hands - far from it. I'm a child of God who knows he is deeply loved and forgiven. It just makes more sense in light of what Jesus did for me.

When all is said and done, there should be a man so stayed on Jesus that not even the incoming tidal waves of life's circumstances can deter his heart or dampen his feet from following through on his convictions. The question then is quite simple: Is the walk of faith for the audience in the boat or is it only for Jesus?

Woe to you when all men speak well of you, for that is how their fathers treated the false prophets.
Luke 6:26

Let the fear of man be removed from me. Let me choose what is right over what is popular. Let me only care about what Jesus would think of me. Let me set a fire in my prayer closet. Let the Word be as sweet as honey. Let me love love.

Remix #8: Remixed, to read, pray, and journal every single freakin day.

Go!

Retreat.

Agape retreat. Keeping it real. Almost too real that even the blind eye will open, see the reality, and then want to be blind again not because it sees ugly, but because it sees a long and difficult road ahead. I'm awake, but I'm not ready. I have little strength, but that's the requirement. So I begin.

Forget one time resolutions that last for a minute. Confirmation this, confirmation that. Unlike before, I'm on a timetable. I'm on the fast track and won't go back. I'm talking about power and anointing. It doesn't matter how silly I sound anymore. I'm not going to stunt the growth just so that I don't trample on your pride, and that includes my brothers and sisters. "Give me the enemy in my hands. Make them a footstool for your feet."

I can't wait around for you to come around and start living out your calling. It's too urgent. Even still, that doesn't mean I'll stop saying "hurry up!"

I'll straighten out these thoughts soon.

Snow

This past quarter I had the chance to compose a song. Intro to Composition. The class (about 10 students) spent 10 weeks working on a final project, which was a 5 minute piece about an individual topic on any instrument, and that was the only grade in the class. We each had to write a song, find a performer to play the song in a concert setting, and then discuss the song. At first, I didn't like the way the professor approached writing music. He used "materials" such as inverting and retrograding a melody, getting someone's birthday and using that as the time signature (e.g. birthday is 9/16 so time signature can be 9/16), and all these crazy things that didn't include sitting and waiting around for a spark of genius.

He made one surfer guy, who wanted to write about the ocean, go to the beach for half a day and write down observation. He ended up recording the height and length of the incoming tides at 15 minute intervals for 4 hours. Another girl said that emotions help her write songs so the professor made her write 200 different emotions. She brought in one piece of paper with size 4 font with 200 emotions. (When the professor wasn't there one week she admitted she used a thesaurus. No shame girl, I would have done the same thing). This other guy ended up making a piece about a microwave because he once mentioned it as an example of where he gets inspiration. hah! Suckah. as in... it sucks for him.

As for me, I thought I was pretty clever. My piece was about my relationship with noon. My assignment was to come up with 50 different characteristics of noon and me. Ridiculous. I was going to compose for piano and have each hand represent a sibling. Older sister and younger brother. To top it off I was going to have her come down and play the piece. A+ right there. The audience would be in tears - so touched, so moved by the love..... But it was too hard. It was like writing for two instruments. I ended up writing for viola because I knew Philip. beautiful. The professor challenged me in many ways to be active in composing and writing. I resisted at first, but I realized it doesn't just come to you, and if it ever feels like it does it's because of an accumulation of inspired activity. In other words, inspiration comes from outside sources apart from me or from anyone. In this case, I was trying to capture the essence of a relationship between siblings who are connected by the Father's love (yea pretty deep stuff, ey?). It only feels like it's from within because we tend to internalize our life and circumstances. But what do I know right?

I can go into all the details of the piece because every measure is purposeful, but I like to let the music speak for itself. Though one thing I do want to mention is that the main melody of the piece (especially repeated near the end) is a waltz that dad used to hum and sing when I was a kid. He would come home from work and pick noon and me up and dance around the house in a waltz. To this day, I don't know where the actual song is from, but noon and I remember the melody clearly. Big thanks to Philip, who pulled off the concert with less than an hour to practice... since I didn't finish until then.

Music to My Ears

Winter break!

Home sweet home. Dad started playing the piano, which happens only once a year at most, and everyone joined in singing some praise. He showed off his ability to play any song by ear (having had no classical training), and had us name any song so he could play it. Obviously, we suggested the most difficult songs we could think of to which he responded with "no fair" but ended up playing it anyway. I guess it makes sense that noon is perfect pitch and I got the leftovers. After a couple songs, mom and noon got bored and left to do their own thing while I stayed behind to humor dad. He started playing an unfamiliar song and I asked him what it was. He told me he had composed and published a few children songs back in the days. I already knew this, but this time I was intrigued and wanted know more. In particular, I wanted to know how he wrote the songs. According to dad, he woke up in the middle of the night one day with the music and lyrics in his head so he ran to the piano, played it, and wrote everything down. Talk about instant inspiration... or not. The lyrics were based on a bible verse he was recently meditating on and going over. The tune was reminiscent of a childhood lullaby - a child calling a father. It was a snapshot of his life, at least in part, in musical form.

I found these old gospel song books at home. I found them shoved and forsaken in the back of my closet. They're about the size of a big index card and they contain songs in both Korean and English with notes and chords for each song. My goal is to revive lost melodies and lyrics and have them speak to my life; these are the stories and testimonies of people who have come before me with a passion to lift up the name of Jesus in their lives. It's a snapshot of the season of life they were traveling through. A snippet of a story. Some notes are legatos with tears. Others are staccatos of joy. There must be a reason behind their melody, their words, their longing to praise Jesus in mourning or dancing, in sorrow or joy. These souls are so stayed on their source of hope that their hearts cry out in musical form. I want to see past the dots and lines, and hear their true laments and worship to God. Maybe I can learn even a little more about God.

I used to think I needed to "feel it" and doing anything purposeful to get that spark was "fake." It's like sitting in a car and waiting for the engine to turn on because using a key seems too methodical, thought out, and even legalistic. Stupid I is. Now I know I'm not going to sit around waiting for the light bulb to go off because inspiration is a result of inspired activity. I'm not talking about music anymore. I'm talking about my walk with Jesus. And simply knowing the One Inspired Act is not enough. Frustration comes when I don't see myself growing in Christ just as when I don't get the 'awakening' in writing a song. It's about doing the homework, doing my part, cranking the engine, living a life that is worthy of a song. The question is when that snapshot is taken in my life will I have a song about Jesus? or a song about the world?

His Song keeps me moving.