Mantle

This morning dad came in the room to print out his sermon notes. I rolled over to my phone alarm and saw that I had 1 more hour in dream land. I pretended to go back to sleep, but then he asked me to print them out for him as he got ready. So now I was on my desk with my sleepy head resting in my arms waiting for the laptop to startup. (I definitely can't handle sleeping past 12 anymore.) I got the notes printed, handed them to dad, and saw him off at the door. "Hwaeeting!" What he didn't know was as soon as he left I quickly ate breakfast, got ready for church, and made my way to Lighthouse Mission Church where he was invited as a guest speaker. I sneaked in and sat near the back. Dad was preaching from Galatians 2:20.

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.

As he was preaching I was secretly rooting for him and praying for him as if he was playing some sport and I was on the bleachers cheering him on. The congregation was responding passionately to God's Word and I was blessed as well. I even learned something completely new about our family background and how God perfectly provides for us. He saves the good stories for his sermons. No fair. But I must say it makes it that much better. I always knew dad was a fiery evangelist, but today was different. Today, I felt the fire. It was the first time I actually thought of and realized the spiritual lineage and how the gospel has been passed down from generation to generation, and somehow, by God's grace, it has reached someone so undeserving like me. Spiritual heirs. Truly, I am standing in the harvest field of those who sowed with their tears. I am standing on the shoulders of giants, as they say. From the saints of old to the saints who are still bold, we are all connected, simply passing the baton and continuing the preaching of the Gospel to all nations. "one Lord, one faith, one baptism..." It's time to pick up the pace because we never know - we might be on the last lap.

After the sermon, I sneaked out and went to church. I thought I was all types of slick, but when dad came home he said he spotted me in the back. Of course. What was I thinking? I was practically on fire when I assumed my father's mantle.

Luckily I had extra tissues in my car.

Food

"My food," said Jesus, "is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work. Do you not say, 'Four months more and then the harvest'? I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest."

Matthew 4:34-35

Bread

"Honey, I'll get it for you....... later," the pastor said to his wife, who was pointing at a set of colorful plates with cute cartoon cat faces drawn into them. It was the running joke whenever they passed by a mall vendor. Whether they were in the Jacksonville countryside or now in the Los Angeles city, they knew their place, or rather they were reminded by their circumstance of God's calling in their lives. Reformed or not, theology was now in motion. As for the title "missionary" in a foreign land they fit every letter perfectly, both in speech and in action.

I was sitting in the leasing office yesterday waiting for the pastor and his wife to finish the application. The three of us had spent the afternoon looking for an apartment for the family to live in. They finally decided on the street side room; they valued sunlight more than quietude. The location was perfect because right across the street was the church he was going to serve at beginning in September. The apartment was small, the rooms were cozy, and the dining area was the awkward space where the living room morphed into a kitchen. In one word, it was cheap. Their humble beginnings were admirable and clearly visible enough for the land owner to express in numbers her financial sympathy for them (bless her soul), but their boldness and courage caused them to appear like warriors stepping into a battlefield, and their faith outweighed the circumstantial walls of Jericho. Some call that foolishness. Others call that trusting in the Lord. It was another gentle reminder of the path set before me. Outside looking in it's like I'm hanging by tattered threads over a deep, dark, endless pit - unsure of what is beyond and doubtful of what is at hand. But the view from above looking down, I'm safe and secure in His mighty hands.

I sat back in the armchair to relax realizing that the application process would take a while. I was musing over the grace of God in the pastor's life when suddenly it began to growl. I was hungry, but the growl missed my stomach. It had resonated from my heart and I was hungry for God. My body ached to hear the still small voice. please speak speak speak speak please. At that moment nothing else mattered except to hear God's voice, to seek His face with all I am, to taste and see how good He is, to know God more, and to love Him more than anything, more than everything. At that moment it didn't matter if I was rich or poor, healthy or sick, full or empty. It only mattered if I was filled with spiritual Bread.

broken and poured out all for love.

That's when it became clear that I would rather starve physically than starve spiritually. It became clearer as to why anyone would do what this pastor is doing - why anyone would have the world behind them and the cross before them - why anyone would choose the hard way of life for the benefit of others. "Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God."

And it was One Man who was broken

for us to hear what was spoken...

"It is finished."

Jesus is all I need and Jesus is all I have.

Sound

Today I went to the Walt Disney Concert Hall to see noon accompany Kim Tae Woo of the late g.o.d....

No big deal... right?

The main performances of the benefit concert were by classical musicians (orchestra, quartet, pianist, haegum soloist). One thing I noticed in these youth musicians is that the majority of them looked so unhappy. Every sequence of notes they play seems to translate "mom made me do it." When the pianist came out and the orchestra was waiting for their part to come in there was one guy in the front row violin section who sat back all the way in his chair (sagaj style) and sighed loudly enough for everyone in the terrace level to hear. I give them some sympathy though because they are the ones who weren't strong-willed, independent-minded, and stubbornly disobedient enough, like me, to defile and resist every piano lesson their parents threw at them. Yea. No regrets. Baby. Just ignore the salty discharge from my eye.

After the orchestra was done, this kpop star pops out and brings out the storm after the calm while working the crowd in all its 1 and 3 beat, ahjuma clapping glory. I heard noon's piano clearly throughout the first two songs, but when he (and the whole orchestra) busted out "I Believe I Can Fly" noon was lost in the sound waves and unable to reach the terrace where I was sitting. He was quite good. He came out for an encore performance, which by the way was more like a "2nd Movement" because he had prepared 3 whole tracks along with 3 background rent-a-rappers rapping along side him to 90's kpop. I actually did enjoy this strange raucous crossover in such a pristine, classically ambient concert hall, but I must admit that I couldn't help but cringe a little at times knowing that mom, dad, and our guest pastor's family from hip town Jacksonville, Mississippi were sitting on the opposite side of the hall.

Mr. Kpop left the stage on a high note with people (mostly those youngsters dressed and ready to go clubbing after the concert) out of their seats dancing and groovin' (not grooving) to the catchy beats. The concert hall was now full of energy but what everyone forgot was that the youth orchestra had their final piece to play. The hall suddenly became uncomfortably silent as the conductor came back on stage and the orchestra began to play Symphony No. 9, a fairly upbeat piece in classical music standards, but definitely not as upbeat as Mr. Kpop's runs. To "kill it" even more they did an encore piece (no one asked) called "Arirang" a Korean traditional folk song.

In short, the whole concert was like listening to someone's ipod shuffle. Enjoyable yet incoherent in my humble opinion. At least I got in for free and at least I get some bragging rights that my very own sister was on stage with... Mr. Kim.

On the way back home, I was left with one question:

When all is said and done, to whom does the glory go to?

Ear

"He who has ears, let him hear"

My eardrum couldn't handle the rhythm this time. The beat of the elemental forces stepped out of line. Thundering silence and constant ringing. Uncontrolled balance and inaudible singing. I thought a simple drainage would be fine but the doctor told me otherwise. When I heard the news I said "God is good, God is good" about 10 times. He told me to pray as he gave me the supplies. So I am out for missions and currently immobilized. I'm itching to move, but it itches when I move. I know time will tell if I get well, but I believe my God will tell the cells to get well.

It is well with my soul.

All I ask is that I hear His voice clearly.

"Speak, for your servant is listening"

Be My

Everything

Father

This morning the family woke up super early and drove down to Torrance. We visited some places and met with some people and ate a hearty breakfast at Ruby's near the pier. Then we walked past a huge yacht parking lot into a nice luxury hotel lobby to digest while watching a bunch of seals sunbathing on a big ol' raft. We also spotted some baby sting rays the size of my hand (가오리 "ga-o-ri" - definitely sounds cuter in Korean) and a swarm of righteous baby crabs standing on the rock(s). I would have had sea food tonight if mom didn't stop me from jumping the fence all three times. The weather was breezy and good times were easy. Mom, noon, and the deacon left early so I was left with dad.

We went to eat at the deacon's restaurant where we talked a lot about the future and the soon and coming events/decisions that may change many lives. Hope in the midst of uncertainty. And I thought this was the moment I can finally show him that I had become a man. A mature, reliable, trustworthy man. So I placed my hands on my lap, kung fu style, looked him in the eye and said, "Appa, you can count on me." Then he gave me a puzzled looked and said, "Why would I count you?" (sounds funnier in Konglish). I didn't even bother explaining it. Mission not accomplished.

Recently, I've had the blessing of teaching (or leading as some nakers insist) a group of six elementary kids at church. During one prayer service we went around as a group to share prayer requests, as many as they wanted to share. When we were done, I learned that 4 out of 6 of them come from a divorced background and live with single mothers or step dads. During night service where any child could lift up a prayer request, 5 out 7 prayer requests were prayers for their fathers. I was more shocked than heart-broken. I realized that having both a loving mother and a loving father under one loving household was a minority, and even then there were always cracks in the walls. Having taken my family for granted, it never occurred to me that I was actually outnumbered among my peers and my students.

I've heard people say that the relationship between a child and the father affects how a child relates to and approaches God. Unfortunately, there is no such thing as a perfect man, a perfect father. More and more I'm learning how sensitive of a topic it is for many people to talk about their daddy, even for Russell in Up, and even for myself. It seems overlooked at first only because beneath the surface there's a pain that is deeper and darker that many try to hide and forget.

"But because of his great love for us, God..."

Fortunately, we have a heavenly Father who loves us with an unconditional, never ending, perfect love. Just as our lives have been and are affected (good or bad) by our relationships with people, we are healed and restored by our relationship with Him. This is redemption. He gives us His Son Jesus Christ. He gives us everlasting life. He forgives our sins. He clothes us in His righteousness. He fills us with His Spirit. He secures us with His promise. He picks us up when we fall again and again. He catches us in His deep embrace. He carries us in our troubles. He heals us in our pain. He leads us into green pastures. He counsels us in our confusion. He beckons us when we're tired. He delights in us regardless. He gives us the hope of eternity with Him. He gives us eternity with Him. period. He meets us where our fathers cannot. He is what the world is not. And above all else, through Jesus, we hear our Father say to us, "This is my child, whom I love."

How deep the Father's love for us

How vast beyond all measure

That He should give His only Son

To make a wretch His treasure

via davegibbons