Love Song Dos

Of what could I compare to thee

Addiction, nothing like morphine

but a gentle drive like caffeine

You take away my nights

My heart beats ever so severely

Surrendering rights just to hold you dearly

I’m slowly getting addicted to you

Imagination: Sinai

What I most like about writings by Eugene Peterson is that the words seem to come alive. I especially enjoyed reading his book, Leap Over a Wall. The story of David came alive as if it were a bedtime story. I soon understood that such explanations and imaginations were only possible through persistence, deep ponderings into the words written.

I wanted to share a Bible passage that would be fun to jump into. It is part in the story of Exodus where God comes down to earth and meets Moses. Try to picture yourself really there, watching over all the thunder and fire bringing such holy presence within the camp.

“On the morning of the third day there was thunder and lightning, with a thick cloud over the mountain, and a very loud trumpet blast. Everyone in the camp trembled. Then Moses led the people out of the camp to meet with God, and they stood at the foot of the mountain. Mount Sinai was covered with smoke, because the LORD descended on it in fire. The smoke billowed up from it like smoke from a furnace, the whole mountain trembled violently, and the sound of the trumpet grew louder and louder. Then Moses spoke and the voice of God answered him.” Exodus 19:16-19

Basement Blues

It was my sophomore year in high school and my mom decided it was best for her to go back to Korea for a year and stay with dad. My mom, brother and I had been living in America while dad stayed in Korea to work (in case you were wondering, no they are not divorced).

I was fortunate enough to find a family that would let me live with them for a whole year. My brother found a family to stay with as well and that was the first time us brothers lived separately. The time spent was not easy, but I definitely matured significantly over the year.

I remember the first night at the house. I stayed in a room in the basement because the other room was not ready yet. The room downstairs was neither damp nor dark, but for some reason I felt rather deserted, maybe even a bit cheated. As I turned on some music, the first song that played was “Dance with My Father Again” by Luther Vandross. I recall listening to the song and having tears roll down my face, completely alone in a strange house. Every time I hear the song, I reminisce the importance of family again.

It is so easy to lose track of the importance of family. It is a tragedy that we often learn it only after we have lost it. 

Grace and grace

One of the joys of having a car was in the music. Wherever I went, melodies followed providing spice to life. I did have an iPod dock, but I preferred listening to CDs. Instead of letting loose single songs, an album was in itself a story. Now, I do admit there are some artists that do not consider an album to its entirety, but I believe it was the sentimental factor that had me cling onto buying them. Among the many CDs I had, I enjoyed listening to one of Matt Redman’s album, “Blessed Be Your Name.”

“I am humbled by your mercy and I am broken inside.” This was part of the lyrics from the song Once Again. As I put much importance in lyrics to a song, I was hoping to find an actual bible verse that had this expression. So far nothing, but I found something close.

“Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness leads you toward repentance?” Romans 2:4

After a day filled with poor decisions and mistakes, consequences are sure to follow the next day. As death sentence seems obvious and imminent, falling asleep seems like such luxury. Yet, the moment consciouness is regained, it is the next day. All is quiet, and nothing has changed. Mercy. This was the work of God, the forgiveness of sins through the blood of Jesus Christ. It seems that another day, another chance was given.

Out of grafetulness, we move on. It is not criticism, but kindness that ultimately changes us.

Lilac kind of day

The smell of lilacs brightens my day

Therapeutic

I’ll be your therapist
Rip apart your thoughts and cast lots
Because the word of God cuts open the mind, body and soul
Break you up and make you whole
It is alive and active, sharper than any swords piercing spirits
Watching your heart, providing courage
Pouring out love for whoever stands even in barren voyage

Inspired by Hebrews 4:12
“For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.”

Flowers

Philosophy 101 with a taxi driver.

I’m not big on taking the taxi here in Seoul. On one occasion, however, I hopped on a taxi and was quietly sitting down, waiting for traffic. As the radio kept on talking about how spring was in the air and how flowers were beautifully in bloom, the driver broke the silence. He did not say much, but one thing I remember quite clearly was that anyone who knows how to enjoy flowers is rarely known to have an evil heart. I know it is rather uncommon for guys to enjoy flowers, but I took this saying broadly and thought nature in general. It is rare for anyone in the modern society to take some time off and just stare into the sky. Once you take a step back and see that life is not a race, you tend to become peaceful. Maybe that is what he wanted to tell me. Take some time off, see that life will end someday and understand what is more important.

Symphonic Rhythms

I am no avid music listener, but I do have a general passion for it. What is most interesting is that each song I listen to builds a story around my life. There are indeed songs that do not have special memories, but with what small pool of songs in my list, I wanted to make a new tag for it.

I will label it as "Songs" and hope I do not become lazy with it like how I did with the "Voices."

Number two and beyond

This would be my second apologetic post. I did think about starting a new tag called “apologies” but that would be rather sad on my part. Plus, I am hoping I do not have many people to apologize to. In any case, my memories on this are not as clear as when I wrote other stories, so bear with me…

Sometime around middle school or high school, where my adolescent foolishness was my guiding light in life, I got to know her. To be honest, I never really took much notice of her initially. She was just somebody I barely knew, but then, I heard the news that her father passed away.

Death was an unfamiliar guest to me, but I had in mind that it would be something difficult to go through. I wanted to be extra mindful of her, but as I got close, I was not controlled enough. I began to meddle around the fine line between friendship and relationship. What started as simple acts of kindness turned into selfish affections that had on the mask of some worthless feelings of heroism; I told myself that I was simply trying to lead her back towards God, but I was only trying to be some knight in shining armor.

I still remember the night before I had to fly back to America. We shared a moment, and as soon as I sent her back home, I felt terrible about it. I felt terrible about that fact that I had crossed the line, which in itself is nothing bad, but I knew in my mind that I did not want such intimacy. I did not want the responsibility, but I had never actually asked what she wanted of me. I doubt that she expected much anyways. Maybe all she wanted was just somebody to open up to. Nevertheless, I never bothered to truly understand who she was and what she wanted. I selfishly diagnosed the situation myself and decided that I wanted no part in it. I pushed her away quite heartlessly. 

I tried to make some amends after the fallout, but to no avail. It was probably because I did not try still to understand her. I simply wanted to be rid of the guilt and perhaps be able to completely forget she ever existed.

Most of my flings seemed to be such as this: initial contact, growing intimacy, a certain climax and then fear. To be honest, I still do not know what is truly down in my heart. As for now, the best answer I could give is that I was afraid of intimacy as it would reveal who I truly am. I recalled the times when I gave it all and was rejected. Maybe it was the collection of such memories that had me so afraid.

Then again, meditation and deep thoughts are rather dangerous. They seem to amplify matters that are insignificant. The more I read what I wrote, the stupider I feel. All of this seems so trivial, so distant like a dream of a summer night in midwinter.

Maybe I just did not like her.

Sometimes I worry that a psychologist would read all of these posts and analyze what goes through my head and categorize me. At the end of the day, I just wanted to say that I am sorry I never understood, but as I close my eyes, I picture myself walking towards the light. Upon golden stairs through golden doors, I feel peace. It is something that is waiting in my near future. That is why I move on, carrying a bittersweet smile. Here is the note I will leave behind.

Journeying

As a child, I remember my answer to the question, “who do you want to be?” changed by the day.  Among the answers, I remember that I wanted to be an adventurer. My friends and I would just walk around the neighborhood for hours on. We would take turns and lead the way to roads that we have never seen before. At times we would get lost, but eventually find the way back home. Along the same lines, the life of Indiana Jones seemed just too cool. I guess it was not so much the hard work that I desperately sought, but the possibility of encountering something new in my life that had me longing for journeys. I don’t mean any ordinary events, but miracles. There is something about the supernatural, and yet, I wonder if it ever were miracles that changed my life? The times I felt most compelled to act was in seeing the constant love of parents, the daily greetings of friends, the unending sufferings of the misfortunate population of the world. I know what I have to do, but where to? Not all who wander are lost, but all who are lost probably do wander…

Summer

It’s the beginning of April, yet very little hint of spring is near. Rain keeps falling and I miss the smell of lilacs. I even heard it’s been snowing somewhere around here. In days like these, my mind often wanders to past years. I remember watching the World Cup sometime in the summer of 2006. I had come home from the States for break. The family had recently moved to a different neighborhood, though still in Seoul. We were on the first floor of a tall apartment, and a small garden was growing right in front of my room. I could clearly see the plants as the window was more like a glass door. Thanks to jetlag, I was wide awake around 3:17AM. On my way home, I had bought some food to eat from the convenience store near the apartment. With the volume set to low, I had turned on the old TV that was in my room; England was playing against some team. I remember thinking that their jersey was one of the better looking ones. The window was open and a gentle breeze came in along with its friend, tranquility. As I was staring blankly into the computer screen, I remember thinking life was good. I’m not sure if much has changed since then. I hope I matured a little bit.

All the while, I cannot shake the feeling of helplessness. Only several weeks into keeping a blog, I realize that words have limits. Words fail to express even the simple smell of coffee in the morning. How then could lives of men, furthermore the Creator be expressed? How can such limited thoughts of mine be filtered into words and then portray meaning to others?

I miss staying up, listening to Lion King’s “In the Jungle” at 2:37AM.