Adieu Angelou

Maya Angelou
April 4, 1928 - May 28, 2014

Touched by an Angel

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.



I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.



On the Pulse of Morning

A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.

But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow.

I will give you no more hiding place down here.

You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness,
Have lain too long
Face down in ignorance.

Your mouths spilling words
Armed for slaughter.

The Rock cries out today, you may stand on me,
But do not hide your face.

Across the wall of the world,
A River sings a beautiful song,
Come rest here by my side.

Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.

Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.

Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more. Come,

Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I and the
Tree and the stone were one.

Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
Brow and when you yet knew you still
Knew nothing.

The River sings and sings on.

There is a true yearning to respond to
The singing River and the wise Rock.

So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
The African and Native American, the Sioux,
The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
They hear. They all hear
The speaking of the Tree.

Today, the first and last of every Tree
Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the River.

Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.

Each of you, descendant of some passed
On traveller, has been paid for.

You, who gave me my first name, you
Pawnee, Apache and Seneca, you
Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
Other seekers- desperate for gain,
Starving for gold.

You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot...
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.

Here, root yourselves beside me.

I am the Tree planted by the River,
Which will not be moved.

I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
I am yours- your Passages have been paid.

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.

History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, and if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon
The day breaking for you.

Give birth again
To the dream.

Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.

Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.

Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.

The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.

No less to Midas than the mendicant.

No less to you now than the mastodon then.

Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.

Quick Note #6753

짧은 설교말씀 묵상 노트

As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:38-42

마르다는 사역중심, 마리아는 사람중심. 

마르다에게 사역의 욕심이 있어 꾸짖으시긴 했지만 그녀는 동역자로 여기셨다. 마리아는 새신자 같아 은혜의 부음이 계속 필요했기에 붙잡으셨다. 마르다들에게 마리아들을 미워하지 말라고 부탁한다. 그들도 언젠간 큰 헌신에 이르게 될 것이다. 또한 마르다들에게 전한다, 감사하다고. 추수의 때지만 일꾼이 없어 마르다들이 더욱 고생하고 있지만 그 고생을 통해 진정으로 예수님의 마음에 가까워질 것이다.  

둘 모두 교회에 필요한 존재요, 둘 다 예수님을 갈망하고 있는 자들이다. 

CMF Camp Time

I had gone to an overnight camp held by a campus Christian group I am involved in. To be honest, I was quite reserved amongst the group. I had not been very active in participating. I would host the daily prayer meetings, but rarely anyone came, and I certainly wondered if any of this had any meaning. 

I forced myself to go this time, and thankfully, I did not regret. 

Many students attended the camp, a lot that I have not even seen regularly. I saw whom I was praying for, whom I needed to pray for. I remembered the glorious times of a church in love. 

Though as lazy as I was, though as scared I was to open up my heart again, God allowed me to look again the love He had made ready for me.

State of Address

Lately, I have not been at peace. God is turning my eyes to see the tragedies and the injustices of the world; the suffering of others mostly. I guess all of this is in response to my prayer request of a vision, some revelation into where I should be heading in this short stop before eternity. 

One thing I learned is that I am too fat, too lazy, too obnoxious, too spoiled, too ignorant, too affectatious, too banal, too scared, too fucking selfish to see what is really going on in the world. 

This here is reality. This is the current state of civilization. This is us, so I pray, not for the change of the world, rather, of my heart.

Bethlehem in Harvest Time

“So Naomi returned from Moab, accompanied by Ruth the Moabite, her daughter-in-law, arriving in Bethlehem as the barley harvest was beginning.” Ruth 1:22 

Here I stand in Bethlehem, a place of God, in harvest time. After having lost all that I had, rather, all that kept me from God, I now stand ready to be filled anew, with incomparable glories. 

ps: http://www.abarim-publications.com/Meaning/Bethlehem.html

An Invincible Summer

I had a lot of free time on my hands for the past couple of days. Since I enjoy reading random articles online, that is exactly what I did, and I just wanted to share one on Albert Camus. I don't know much about him, and I can't say I agree much about what he has said. One of the writings, however, I couldn't have been more eager to share. 

In the clamor in which we live, love is impossible and justice does not suffice. This is why Europe hates daylight and is only able to set injustice against injustice. But in order to keep justice from shriveling up like a beautiful orange fruit containing nothing but a bitter, dry pulp, I discovered once more at Tipasa that one must keep intact in oneself a freshness, a cool wellspring of joy, love the day that escapes injustice, and return to combat having won that light. Here I recaptured the former beauty, a young sky, and I measured my luck, realizing at last that in the worst years of our madness the memory of that sky had never left me. This was what in the end had kept me from despairing. I had always known that the ruins of Tipasa were young than our new constructions or our bomb damage. There the world began over again every day in an ever new light. O light! This is the cry of all characters of ancient drama brought face to face with their fate. This last resort was ours, too, and I knew it now. In the middle of winter I at last discovered that there was in me an invincible summer.

Albert Camus, “Return to Tipasa”

Below is a bit of an explanation on the said writing. Source from http://bnreview.barnesandnoble.com/t5/Daybook/Camus-in-Algeria/ba-p/9245

Albert Camus was born in Mondovi, Algeria, on this day in 1913. Because of his ambivalence about Algerian independence, Camus is still a controversial topic in his homeland, and it will be interesting to see if he receives any recognition in his upcoming centenary year. Few of the Algerian memorials erected to Camus have survived the lingering anticolonial anger, though one still faintly stands. It is in Tipasa, the coastal town that Camus loved and often wrote about. Standing amid the Roman ruins at Tipasa, in the shadow of the Chenoua Mountains, are these words etched on a Phoenician tombstone: 

Here I understand that
which is called glory --
the right to love
without measure. 

The inscription is from Camus's "Nuptials at Tipasa," a 1938 essay. In "Return to Tipasa," written fifteen years later, Camus describes trying to rekindle his inspiration and sense of purpose through a visit to the Roman ruins -- though "it is sheer madness, almost always punished, to return to the sites of one's youth and try to relive at forty what one loved or keenly enjoyed at twenty." After days of rain and a struggle through barbed wire, and before his necessary return to "Europe and its struggles," the Sisyphean moment:
I wanted to see again the Chenoua, that solid, heavy mountain cut out of a single block of stone, which borders the bay of Tipasa to the west before dropping down into the sea itself. It is seen from a distance, long before arriving, a light, blue haze still confused with the sky. But gradually it is condensed, as you advance towards it, until it takes on the color of the sea.... Still nearer, almost at the gates of Tipasa, here is its frowning bulk, brown and green, here is the old mossy god that nothing will ever shake, a refuge and harbor for its sons, of whom I am one.
"A man's work," wrote Camus in his Preface to the essay collection The Wrong Side and the Right Side,"but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened." 

Daybook, November 7, 2012 - Steve King

On Your KNEES

Sometimes I wonder how he keeps his passion throughout the years. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NRcJQL1yAC4

Simeon Peter, a servant and apostle of Jesus Christ, to those who have obtained a faith of equal standing with ours by the righteousness of our God and Savior Jesus Christ: May grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord. 2 Peter 1:1-2 ESV

I have been given everything I need to shine.
Change me, so I can change others in line.

Passion is what I will eat.

I will get up from this golden seat,

onto the world of hurt and pain.

This is the only way to live sane. 

Today is the best day of my life.

70,000

In my college years, the local Korean church I attended held a special seminar. It was called the “Vision Seminar,” in which three men of profession came to hold a simple Q&A session. It was a bit boring to be honest since none of the speakers were talking about anything really related to what I wanted to do back then. The reason I still remember to even talk about it now, however, is because of what one of the speakers had said that day. He quoted 2 Samuel 24, in which David is punished for enrolling the fighting men of Israel by taking a census.

So Gad went to David and said to him, “Shall there come on you three years of famine in your land? Or three months of fleeing from your enemies while they pursue you? Or three days of plague in your land? Now then, think it over and decide how I should answer the one who sent me.” 

David said to Gad, “I am in deep distress. Let us fall into the hands of the Lord, for his mercy is great; but do not let me fall into human hands.” 

So the Lord sent a plague on Israel from that morning until the end of the time designated, and seventy thousand of the people from Dan to Beersheba died. When the angel stretched out his hand to destroy Jerusalem, the Lord relented concerning the disaster and said to the angel who was afflicting the people, 

“Enough! Withdraw your hand.” The angel of the Lord was then at the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite. 

When David saw the angel who was striking down the people, he said to the Lord, “I have sinned; I, the shepherd, have done wrong. These are but sheep. What have they done? Let your hand fall on me and my family.” 

2 Samuel 24:13-17

After having explained this bit to us, he went on to say that most of us Christians think themselves as King David, but some of you here, no, most of you here are the seventy thousand of the people that died. To this day, I have no idea how all of this related to “vision,” but that statement left a mark in my heart. I may not be important enough to be written by name in the Bible. I had trouble swallowing that concept. I wanted to be more to God. I wanted to be important in life. This could have been more fuel for my empty passion. I certainly remember working hard to follow any and all activities held by the church. I probably had no idea what I was doing anyways.

Several years later, I had an opportunity to ask about this little “story.” I guess I had known the answer all along, but just like many, I failed to realize it until recently. The seventy thousand that died were no more nor no less than King David was in God’s sight (at least that is what I was told :P). My inherent desire to be more was deeply rooted in my idea that worldly blessings were signs of God’s love. I wanted to be significant, thus applying God’s blessing as an ultimate goal. This blessing, however, stretched further than just wealth and power. It was even instilled in my desire for “closeness” to God. My seeming relationship with God itself became an idol.

I could be stretching it, overreacting a bit, but my mind cleared up a lot. Standards are abundant in our world, but whose standards are we following anyways? God’s love as love itself is the best and the only goal we have and need. The greatest part is that it has been given freely already! No more struggling to prove an importance. My only struggle should be to be more like Jesus for love itself, nothing attached. What’s there to be jealous of others when we are all the same under God’s eyes?

Be free, as truth truly does set us free. 

Another Excerpt for Memories Sake

Here is another of the excerpts I wanted to salvage. 

개인적인 기도제목도 하나 추가하겠습니다. 고민하던 관계가 더 큰 고민으로만 치닫고 있습니다. 연애란 무엇인지 내가 잘하고 있긴 한 것인지, 또 좋아한다는 건 무엇인지, 그런 근본적인 질문들을 계속하게 됩니다. 주 안에서 단순화된 연애관이 생기길 기도해주세요!

Colors

God adds colors to my life

Strife

Let you know that I am alive.

My eyes are open and I still breathe.

I seek to walk the path of righteousness,

one riddled with pain and suffering,

yet more meaningful than that of anyone else.

I crave for justice, and I carve my heart to see fit.

No, I am not perfect, but perfect is not what He seeks.

No, I am not calling you out, nor am I criticizing.

I am here to simply say that I am STRIVING for God.

I am alive. I am breathing.

I am.

"For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing." 2 Timothy 4:6-8

Basketball and Sacrifice

I love basketball, sometimes to the point where I hang my ego on it, but I am not even that good (I wonder what that says about my ego?). In any case, watching the NBA, playing pick-up ball and even just talking about basketball is always fun. 

Couple days ago, I was invited to play ball back home, but I had still been in school. For some odd reason, I was disappointed a bit more that day. It could have been from seeing my home friends a week ago, and having talked about life they were living, how much different it was from mine. 

I had wanted to be home, in the comfort of my house, seeing my parents, attending church there, doing whatever my friends were doing, the happy and even the sad. I even thought to the point where I wanted to work at some company, making money and living like how a lot of my friends were living, settled down. 

I know all of that was just foolishness, the little kid playing the comparing game, but a deeper thought held on: what was I sacrificing to become a doctor? 

I left behind my loving family, close friends, a church that I love. I gave up spending time for myself, watching movies, TV shows, working out, relaxing, meeting up with good friends, talking, and even simply walking around the neighborhood. Why was I doing this? To get a job? If I was to become a doctor solely for my benefit, the financial well-being and the stability in the job, I could not find anything more meaningless. I had started school with goals of living a life for God, and I wanted to know how I was doing. 

As I graduate and take a step closer to the hospital, am I going to flock back home and live the way everyone else was living? I wanted to fly! I wanted to get out of here. I wanted to go out and about, finding people that needed me, that needed God, the love of Jesus Christ. I wanted to help others more than how I helped myself. The truth is, all I have is from God. Then, what am I sacrificing for? Is it really even a sacrifice? 

A blessing is what it is. 

I sincerely pray that I live a life according to God's will, a life filled with love, a life for others. 

In Christ

Spring Cleaning and Selfishness

You are reminded day and again like the gentle spring breeze, flowing just as I am about to forget. A spring cleaning is due, but I still can't decide what to keep or throw away

NK News

Just another NK update

http://amanpour.blogs.cnn.com/2014/05/08/defector-shadowy-organization-not-kim-jong-un-controls-north-korea/

The unraveling

Imagination: Jesus Anointed by a Sinful Woman

Now one of the Pharisees invited Jesus to have dinner with him, so he went to the Pharisee's house and reclined at the table. When a woman who had lived a sinful life in that town learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee's house, she brought an alabaster jar of perfume, and as she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.

When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is - that she is a sinner."

Jesus answered him, "Simon, I something to tell you."

"Tell me, teacher," he said.

"Two men owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money pay him back, so he canceled the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?"
Simon replied, "I suppose the one who had the bigger debt canceled."

"You have guessed correctly," Jesus said.

Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet.

You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven - for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little."

Then Jesus said to her, "Your sins are forgiven."

The other guests began to say among themselves, "Who is this who even forgives sins?"

Jesus said to the woman, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace."

Luke 7:36-50

No history, let alone a deeper story of the woman is recorded in the Bible. It could have been that some were lost, or that God saw it unnecessary for his people. Nonetheless, the beauty of the passage, as told by many others, is that Jesus accepted the woman's worship of Him. 

Too often, modern Christians demand a certain form of worship, one that can be readily accepted by the community and culture that surrounds it. Of course, this is nothing negative, but it can have many downfalls, as seen by the Pharisees and the holdings of the Law. 

The woman had perfume, had hair, had a deep desire to serve Jesus, and she did what she could. She did all she could, and it was perfect in the eyes of the Lord. 

Eyes

If you have not done so, take some time to look in the mirror, specifically focusing on your eyes. The eyes seem to reflect the current state of body and mind rather well. Whenever you are tired, they dim; when ecstatic, they sparkle. How amazing is it that when you stare into another's eyes, it is a sign of affection? 

I remember attending Blackhawk Church while in high school. This was more than 10 years ago. I still remember the pastor, Chris. He had passion for Jesus. As young as I was, I enjoyed listening to his sermons about Christ and the joy of living with Him. Just recently, I went online and watched one of his recent sermons. Time sure had grown him white hair, but surprisingly, his eyes were still shining with glory.

"And Moses the servant of the Lord died there in Moab, as the Lord had said. He buried him in Moab, in the valley opposite Beth Peor, but to this day no one knows where his grave is. Moses was a hundred and twenty years old when he died, yet his eyes were not weak nor his strength gone. The Israelites grieved for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days, until the time of weeping and mourning was over." Deuteronomy 34:5-8

It is amazing to see how the Bible becomes true to our lives. As did Moses, the pastor's eyes did not fail. It is as if the eyes of men who only see the world becomes dark and foggy due the countless amounts of hopelessness and desperation rampant here on earth. For those who seek the Lord, however, reflect directly the glimmer of heaven, the glorious, triumphant coming of Christ again.

"Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. For we live by faith, not by sight. We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it. For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad. 2 Corinthians 5:6-10