Dear Sister,
I’m going to begin by sharing a journal entry that I wrote several days ago, just so you can have an idea what it was that I was praying about last night.
***
I have found it difficult to reconcile myself with the idea of returning home permanently. I haven’t been discouraged or tired or depressed. My heart is well. It is my mind which is pulled nearly in two. Every conviction that brought me over to Korea in the first place is still there. Nothing has changed: N. Koreans still live and die in abject poverty, workers continue to be scarce, and God’s voice still whispers “Do you love Me? Feed My sheep.”
“Did not He that made me in the womb make him?” Job demanded, “and did not one fashion us in the womb?... If I have eaten my morsel myself alone, and the fatherless hath not eaten thereof…If I have seen any perish for want of clothing, or any poor without covering; If his loins have not blessed me, and if he were not warmed with the fleece of my sheep…” Then what? “…Then let mine arm fall from my shoulder blade, and mine arm be broken from the bone.”
I read missionary stories which challenge me not to give up, and hear sermons which charge me to be strong, and have conversations that leave my mind spinning with the knowledge that it is they who hold on to their dreams in times of darkest uncertainty who are the winners. My own mind and heart throw me over to the ‘persevere at all costs’ camp; this has been the mentality that I’ve grown up with, and by which I’ve made the most difficult choices of my live – until now.
Now, though my heart is quiet, my mind is in agony. Does God want His church to minister to the unreached and suffering? Yes. I strongly believe: Yes. Why do I think that I am now somehow excused from the front lines of that work? Is my personal life with God really more important than the lives of eleven million N. Koreans? More important enough that I should consider going back to the States to develop it, while they die in darkness?
My mind churns, and I cannot help weeping at what I cannot understand: they will die, and I will go home. I will go home, while they die. I will leave them to their death with a quiet heart and a burning mind, and they will all die. I cannot understand. Perhaps if there where were an army of people vying to help, then I might stand back in peace. But the help is so small, and now it is less, and the people keep on dying, and my heart continues to be still, and I cannot understand. What is there to do but weep and weep and weep, until there are no tears left to cry?
I beg God to correct me, if I have heard Him wrong. If I am listening not to His voice, but to my own heart, I plead with Him to turn me back. Meanwhile, I remind myself that God loves each individual in N. Korea dearly, and it is He Who will save them, and not I. “The Lord is our Judge, the Lord is our Lawgiver, the Lord is our King; He will save us.” (Is 33:22)
***
Last night I just tried to tell God what has been on my mind: the wrestling between stopping and going forward. The wrestling between staying in Korea and returning to America. As I prayed, the pressure became very great. I think I’m supposed to return home…but what if that’s wrong?
I wanted to pray, but all I could whisper, over and over again, was, “Keep me. Keep me.” God understood that my heart was begging Him to keep me on the right path, regardless of which direction I head, and to not allow my decisions to take me anywhere other than where He wants me.
After a while I sat up and opened my Bible at random. I read the first verse that my eyes fell on, “He that keepeth thee will not slumber.” My heart leaped. It was such a specific answer. I continued to read.
“Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep. The LORD is thy keeper: the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand. The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night. The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul. The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.” (Psa 121:4-8)
Could there have been a more direct answer or a more beautiful promise given? God, Who keeps me, will not sleep; He will preserve my going out and my coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore. He has pledged Himself to it.
I can return to the States in peace.
Thank you for being interested in my life’s dramas. =) I love you, and I hope that all made sense.
See you soon!
Elisabeth
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Coming Home...
Dear Family…
This is my life:
Mike wrote me an email not too long ago. In it he said, “Any vision or ministry you attempt has to first die if it’s going to succeed. It has to die so that God (and God alone) can resurrect the vision according to His purposes and His shaping. So if it feels like your vision is dying…it means that God is getting you ready to lay down your plans and listen to what He’s got in store.”
As if that wasn’t thought provoking enough, I was talking to Amy a few days later, telling her how, for the first time in my life, I’m just absolutely unsure about what to do with myself. I have no direction for my life. The future is blank. I’m at an end, completely, of my own resources. She laughed, “God has had to bring you through a lot to accomplish that.”
And I think she’s right. They’re both right. I have nothing left to give; there is nothing I can do. I can’t speak Korean, I can’t evangelize, I can’t disciple, I don’t even have the energy to walk through a normal day without becoming exhausted, for goodness sake!
So yesterday I decided that I’m done. I will go home in March and attempt to live my life day by day loving people as best I can. God knows that my heart is still willing – if He wants me to go to China, fine. If He wants me to stay here, fine. But I am done trying to make it happen. I don’t even know what live I hope to have, but I do know what life I don’t want: a life lived based upon my own resources and ingenuity. I can’t do it any longer.
Yesterday was a sad day to walk through. Not sad in a bad way, exactly, just sad in a “good-bye” sort of way. I cried for a little while in the morning, while I was praying, because giving this – my vision for NK – up is like giving a part of myself up. Missions is my identity; it has been since I can remember. I’ve always had a direction, I’ve always known what I was going to do and who I was going to be. And now … I have nothing.
It’s hard, too, because I’ve given so much for this. These last three years have been such arduous ones, bought with tears and sweat. But I’ve given them to God. He may use them someday, if He wants to. But I never will. I lived them because I loved God, and now I leave them for the same reason. I still study Korean, because this is where I am, but I no longer plan on using it, so a great pressure is removed. And when I return to America in two months, I will leave things wrapped up here, because I don’t plan on coming back. If this isn’t pleasing to God, if this is merely giving up when He wants me to press forward – well, my life is His. I trust Him to keep me on the right path.
I don’t know how I’ll explain all this to family and church, but I care very little how they respond. I’m done trying to meet other people’s expectations. I’m done trying to meet my own expectations. From today, the only One Whom I will attempt to satisfy is Christ. If He is pleased with my life, I will be content.
So that’s my story. I’m very sad, and the smallest things make me cry…I’m crying while I write this. But I have so much peace. I really believe that this is where God has been bring me, all this time: to an end of myself and a beginning of Him.
I love you, and I wish that one of you could be here with me right now…
This is my life:
Mike wrote me an email not too long ago. In it he said, “Any vision or ministry you attempt has to first die if it’s going to succeed. It has to die so that God (and God alone) can resurrect the vision according to His purposes and His shaping. So if it feels like your vision is dying…it means that God is getting you ready to lay down your plans and listen to what He’s got in store.”
As if that wasn’t thought provoking enough, I was talking to Amy a few days later, telling her how, for the first time in my life, I’m just absolutely unsure about what to do with myself. I have no direction for my life. The future is blank. I’m at an end, completely, of my own resources. She laughed, “God has had to bring you through a lot to accomplish that.”
And I think she’s right. They’re both right. I have nothing left to give; there is nothing I can do. I can’t speak Korean, I can’t evangelize, I can’t disciple, I don’t even have the energy to walk through a normal day without becoming exhausted, for goodness sake!
So yesterday I decided that I’m done. I will go home in March and attempt to live my life day by day loving people as best I can. God knows that my heart is still willing – if He wants me to go to China, fine. If He wants me to stay here, fine. But I am done trying to make it happen. I don’t even know what live I hope to have, but I do know what life I don’t want: a life lived based upon my own resources and ingenuity. I can’t do it any longer.
Yesterday was a sad day to walk through. Not sad in a bad way, exactly, just sad in a “good-bye” sort of way. I cried for a little while in the morning, while I was praying, because giving this – my vision for NK – up is like giving a part of myself up. Missions is my identity; it has been since I can remember. I’ve always had a direction, I’ve always known what I was going to do and who I was going to be. And now … I have nothing.
It’s hard, too, because I’ve given so much for this. These last three years have been such arduous ones, bought with tears and sweat. But I’ve given them to God. He may use them someday, if He wants to. But I never will. I lived them because I loved God, and now I leave them for the same reason. I still study Korean, because this is where I am, but I no longer plan on using it, so a great pressure is removed. And when I return to America in two months, I will leave things wrapped up here, because I don’t plan on coming back. If this isn’t pleasing to God, if this is merely giving up when He wants me to press forward – well, my life is His. I trust Him to keep me on the right path.
I don’t know how I’ll explain all this to family and church, but I care very little how they respond. I’m done trying to meet other people’s expectations. I’m done trying to meet my own expectations. From today, the only One Whom I will attempt to satisfy is Christ. If He is pleased with my life, I will be content.
So that’s my story. I’m very sad, and the smallest things make me cry…I’m crying while I write this. But I have so much peace. I really believe that this is where God has been bring me, all this time: to an end of myself and a beginning of Him.
I love you, and I wish that one of you could be here with me right now…
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Settling In
Hi,
I don’t think this is going to be a very long letter. I just wanted to let you all know how I’m doing, before too much more time passes. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch before now. My life has been a little bit unsettled, and to be quite honest, I don’t like to write when I’m having a difficult time.
Coming back to Korea this time has been different from the others. Usually I’m thrust headlong into the fast lane, with hardly a chance to get my feet under me. This time, life recommenced at a much slower pace. The day after I flew in, snow began to fall. It continued to fall until the city shut down. It was the worst snow fall that Seoul has seen in 103 years, and it brought the city to an abrupt halt. Since transportation was in a deadlock, and since the house of the friend with whom I was camping out is near the top of a steep, icy mountain, I was pretty much confined to the indoors for the first week. In some ways that was nice; it was good to take it easy and give myself a chance to recover from jet lag. On the other hand, though, I wanted to be able to get out to look for a place to live. After nearly two weeks of inactivity, I’m getting stir crazy and beginning to feel a little down.
I’d really appreciate your prayers for me to be able to settle back into life here. It’s been hard to re-engage, because there’s no way for me to pick up where I left off. It’s been particularly difficult while I’ve been homeless, because I have no place to settle down in. I can’t unpack, I can’t go shopping (my diet was really limited the first week; it’s stretching the truth to say that I got two square meals a day), and for a while I couldn’t even get my cell phone re-registered, so I had no way to be in touch with friends here.
However, as of today, I finally have my phone, and my housing situation worked out. That’s a huge load off my shoulders. As it turns out, You can ignore my facebook status. I won’t be living in a 2x2 goshiwon. After finding that place, I came back to the house of the girl I was temporarily staying with to tell her that I would be moving out the next day. She was surprised that I’d found a place so soon, and apparently displeased to be losing her roommate. Long and short of it was that she asked me to continue to live with her, while I’m in Korea. That took us a couple of days to settle (I can’t begin to express how slowly things can sometimes take to solve themselves over here), and this afternoon the arrangements were finally sealed. I’ll be living with Becky for the next two and a half months.
So having passed those two mile markers, I feel a lot more optimistic about life. Honestly, though, coming back here this time has been a really hard transition. I was busy and happy at home, and really making a difference in the lives of my family. I had a finger in every pie, and had invested a lot in the younger girls particularly, but in others as well. I left at a really good time, where I was seeing a lot of fruit and answered prayer in the lives of the people around me, and came back to Korea where I feel I have nothing to give. I have a lot of friends, whom I mostly bum off of, but no one really needs me here, and my life is mostly idle and pointless, in contrast to what it was two weeks ago. So I ask myself why I’m here. And I have no answer.
I’m taking an online writing class, as well, which I really enjoy. It’s a little bit time consuming, but I’m learning a lot, and am glad that I signed up for it before heading over here.
Because of the ambiguous housing/phone situation, I haven’t been able to get together with any one for language exchange. Now, though, I should find myself some people to study with before long, and I’m sure that once I’m more regularly employed I’ll have better attitude about everything. Meanwhile, though, I’d really appreciate your prayers that God will bring someone or something my way for me to do.
And, again, thanks for your patience with my lack of communication. Like I said, it’s really hard for me to write when I’m down.
I miss you guys,
Elisabeth
I don’t think this is going to be a very long letter. I just wanted to let you all know how I’m doing, before too much more time passes. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch before now. My life has been a little bit unsettled, and to be quite honest, I don’t like to write when I’m having a difficult time.
Coming back to Korea this time has been different from the others. Usually I’m thrust headlong into the fast lane, with hardly a chance to get my feet under me. This time, life recommenced at a much slower pace. The day after I flew in, snow began to fall. It continued to fall until the city shut down. It was the worst snow fall that Seoul has seen in 103 years, and it brought the city to an abrupt halt. Since transportation was in a deadlock, and since the house of the friend with whom I was camping out is near the top of a steep, icy mountain, I was pretty much confined to the indoors for the first week. In some ways that was nice; it was good to take it easy and give myself a chance to recover from jet lag. On the other hand, though, I wanted to be able to get out to look for a place to live. After nearly two weeks of inactivity, I’m getting stir crazy and beginning to feel a little down.
I’d really appreciate your prayers for me to be able to settle back into life here. It’s been hard to re-engage, because there’s no way for me to pick up where I left off. It’s been particularly difficult while I’ve been homeless, because I have no place to settle down in. I can’t unpack, I can’t go shopping (my diet was really limited the first week; it’s stretching the truth to say that I got two square meals a day), and for a while I couldn’t even get my cell phone re-registered, so I had no way to be in touch with friends here.
However, as of today, I finally have my phone, and my housing situation worked out. That’s a huge load off my shoulders. As it turns out, You can ignore my facebook status. I won’t be living in a 2x2 goshiwon. After finding that place, I came back to the house of the girl I was temporarily staying with to tell her that I would be moving out the next day. She was surprised that I’d found a place so soon, and apparently displeased to be losing her roommate. Long and short of it was that she asked me to continue to live with her, while I’m in Korea. That took us a couple of days to settle (I can’t begin to express how slowly things can sometimes take to solve themselves over here), and this afternoon the arrangements were finally sealed. I’ll be living with Becky for the next two and a half months.
So having passed those two mile markers, I feel a lot more optimistic about life. Honestly, though, coming back here this time has been a really hard transition. I was busy and happy at home, and really making a difference in the lives of my family. I had a finger in every pie, and had invested a lot in the younger girls particularly, but in others as well. I left at a really good time, where I was seeing a lot of fruit and answered prayer in the lives of the people around me, and came back to Korea where I feel I have nothing to give. I have a lot of friends, whom I mostly bum off of, but no one really needs me here, and my life is mostly idle and pointless, in contrast to what it was two weeks ago. So I ask myself why I’m here. And I have no answer.
I’m taking an online writing class, as well, which I really enjoy. It’s a little bit time consuming, but I’m learning a lot, and am glad that I signed up for it before heading over here.
Because of the ambiguous housing/phone situation, I haven’t been able to get together with any one for language exchange. Now, though, I should find myself some people to study with before long, and I’m sure that once I’m more regularly employed I’ll have better attitude about everything. Meanwhile, though, I’d really appreciate your prayers that God will bring someone or something my way for me to do.
And, again, thanks for your patience with my lack of communication. Like I said, it’s really hard for me to write when I’m down.
I miss you guys,
Elisabeth
Monday, July 20, 2009
Dear Friends
Dear Friends,
Today was the first day of a three day soccer camp, with a total of fifty 4-6 grade boys, from different homes around Seoul. It’s a great deal of fun, but very energy demanding…needless to say. Jerusalem Ministries (through whom I volunteered at the Namsan Home) hosted this same camp last year, and both this year and last have been held during the height of monsoon season. And when I say monsoon, I mean really. I was out two days ago, and the deluge was so heavy that it drove right through my umbrella, and I came home soaked to the skin. Obviously this is bad timing for an outdoor sports camp. But it’s when the kids are out of school, so what can one do? Well, one can pray, and so we have. Last year the rain came down so heavily that it took down trees with it, and continued coming down until two hours before the camp commenced. Then it held up for three days, with beautiful weather. And two hours after camp closed down, on the last day, the rain began coming down in sheets again. Well, it’s the same story this year. It ought to have rained today, but instead it was beautiful and dry, with a thick cover of clouds to hide the blistering sun. I checked the weather report when I got home, and it said that rain had poured all day. Someone pointed out that, since God’s favor is with the fatherless, the projects that we undertake for them can hardly escape being blessed. I’m convinced.
A few people have asked me about the home I’m working at, so I thought I’d go into more detail for the curious. It’s actually not a home for orphans, so it would more technically be called a ‘children’s home’. Only about 5% of the kids are parentless. The rest are kids whose parents/relatives don’t want them or are unable to keep them. So the kids have a lot of fears and insecurities and rejection issues. It’s difficult for a lot of them to open up to people, because they’ve been abandoned by the ones who were supposed to love them the best. I’ve come to love them more deeply than I would have imagined possible in such a short time. When Jimin, a four year old little girl, buries her head in her arms and cries uncontrollably because she misses her dad, my heart breaks for her. When the girls show me pictures of their families, their parents and brothers and sisters, everything in me understands. And sometimes I think that maybe that’s why I’ve had to miss my own family so much…just so that I can understand these children and love them better.
There are a little over fifty kids here, divided into five dorms. There are two dorm parents to each dorm, and they take turns living at the home in stints of 24 hours each. They’re usually really busy, while they’re here, so it’s difficult for them to find the time or energy to give the kids the love and attention that they need. They’re often short tempered or really tired. The dorm mom in the dorm where I’m staying, with the older girls, is really sweet, and she really loves the kids. But it’s the same with her as it is with the others. Being mom to seven teenage girls is really challenging and exhausting. So I think it’s really nice for everyone that Ye-Kyung (the other volunteer) and I are here. We can take the kids out, and play with them, and help out where needed. I’m glad that I have the opportunity to work here this summer.
And after this…many of you already know that I’m looking for tickets to come home for a visit this fall. If all goes as planned, I should be flying in on the 7th. I can hardly wait to see you all!
Thank you for your prayers and thoughts.
With love,
Elisabeth
Today was the first day of a three day soccer camp, with a total of fifty 4-6 grade boys, from different homes around Seoul. It’s a great deal of fun, but very energy demanding…needless to say. Jerusalem Ministries (through whom I volunteered at the Namsan Home) hosted this same camp last year, and both this year and last have been held during the height of monsoon season. And when I say monsoon, I mean really. I was out two days ago, and the deluge was so heavy that it drove right through my umbrella, and I came home soaked to the skin. Obviously this is bad timing for an outdoor sports camp. But it’s when the kids are out of school, so what can one do? Well, one can pray, and so we have. Last year the rain came down so heavily that it took down trees with it, and continued coming down until two hours before the camp commenced. Then it held up for three days, with beautiful weather. And two hours after camp closed down, on the last day, the rain began coming down in sheets again. Well, it’s the same story this year. It ought to have rained today, but instead it was beautiful and dry, with a thick cover of clouds to hide the blistering sun. I checked the weather report when I got home, and it said that rain had poured all day. Someone pointed out that, since God’s favor is with the fatherless, the projects that we undertake for them can hardly escape being blessed. I’m convinced.
A few people have asked me about the home I’m working at, so I thought I’d go into more detail for the curious. It’s actually not a home for orphans, so it would more technically be called a ‘children’s home’. Only about 5% of the kids are parentless. The rest are kids whose parents/relatives don’t want them or are unable to keep them. So the kids have a lot of fears and insecurities and rejection issues. It’s difficult for a lot of them to open up to people, because they’ve been abandoned by the ones who were supposed to love them the best. I’ve come to love them more deeply than I would have imagined possible in such a short time. When Jimin, a four year old little girl, buries her head in her arms and cries uncontrollably because she misses her dad, my heart breaks for her. When the girls show me pictures of their families, their parents and brothers and sisters, everything in me understands. And sometimes I think that maybe that’s why I’ve had to miss my own family so much…just so that I can understand these children and love them better.
There are a little over fifty kids here, divided into five dorms. There are two dorm parents to each dorm, and they take turns living at the home in stints of 24 hours each. They’re usually really busy, while they’re here, so it’s difficult for them to find the time or energy to give the kids the love and attention that they need. They’re often short tempered or really tired. The dorm mom in the dorm where I’m staying, with the older girls, is really sweet, and she really loves the kids. But it’s the same with her as it is with the others. Being mom to seven teenage girls is really challenging and exhausting. So I think it’s really nice for everyone that Ye-Kyung (the other volunteer) and I are here. We can take the kids out, and play with them, and help out where needed. I’m glad that I have the opportunity to work here this summer.
And after this…many of you already know that I’m looking for tickets to come home for a visit this fall. If all goes as planned, I should be flying in on the 7th. I can hardly wait to see you all!
Thank you for your prayers and thoughts.
With love,
Elisabeth
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Really Quick...
This is going to be really quick...probably. I would have written sooner, but the internet has been turned off all week, because the kids have to study for their finals. Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm doing sooo much better for having gotten that last email off my chest. Sometimes venting in one's native language can be remarkably therapeutic. ^^
So, yeah, it’s hard to live across the world from my family. It’s difficult not being able to speak the language fluently. I miss American food, and being able to find shoes that fit, and being able to cross the road when the light turns green, without looking both ways first. If I had known what it would be like, I think that I would not have chosen to be a missionary after all. But I know that someday this life, with all of its struggles and perplexities, will be over. Someday I will stand face to face with my beloved Jesus, and then...
Actually, my story is simply that God loves me. I wonder at His love. It’s almost as though He can’t bear to see me in trouble. It’s like He knows that I must experience difficulty to shape me, and because this is a fallen world. But it breaks His heart to watch my pain, so He cannot help but set aside the laws of nature, and pull me into His arms, and give me rest. There is such gentleness in His dealings with me. It absolutely blows me away. Sometimes I feel so deeply loved by Him and so extraordinarily well cared for, that I can’t help wondering if He loves me more than everyone else put together!
God has given me courage and joy. And, while I still feel inhibited, of course, by my un-fluency, I no longer feel the pressure that I did, and have been able to give that particular struggle to God. Thank you so much for your prayers!
Elisabeth
So, yeah, it’s hard to live across the world from my family. It’s difficult not being able to speak the language fluently. I miss American food, and being able to find shoes that fit, and being able to cross the road when the light turns green, without looking both ways first. If I had known what it would be like, I think that I would not have chosen to be a missionary after all. But I know that someday this life, with all of its struggles and perplexities, will be over. Someday I will stand face to face with my beloved Jesus, and then...
Actually, my story is simply that God loves me. I wonder at His love. It’s almost as though He can’t bear to see me in trouble. It’s like He knows that I must experience difficulty to shape me, and because this is a fallen world. But it breaks His heart to watch my pain, so He cannot help but set aside the laws of nature, and pull me into His arms, and give me rest. There is such gentleness in His dealings with me. It absolutely blows me away. Sometimes I feel so deeply loved by Him and so extraordinarily well cared for, that I can’t help wondering if He loves me more than everyone else put together!
God has given me courage and joy. And, while I still feel inhibited, of course, by my un-fluency, I no longer feel the pressure that I did, and have been able to give that particular struggle to God. Thank you so much for your prayers!
Elisabeth
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
A Quick Update
Dear Friends,
It has been a very full week and a half. I can hardly believe that that much time has already passed. This has been a good place to spend time. Living here is a far cry from living alone, as I have these last two years, and I’m enjoying the company of over fifty squirmy, laughing kids.
We’re kept to a pretty rigorous schedule here, though. Raising at 5:45. Breakfast of kimchee and rice. Teaching, walking kids to school, and watching babies in the morning. Just before a lunch of kimchee and rice, I usually manage to squeeze in a ten minute shower. If one can say ‘shower’ of crouching on the bathroom floor, and using a little scoop to pour water over oneself from a bucket. We have a little bit of free time in the afternoon, and after that more teaching. Then dinner of guess what. Yup, kimchee and rice. Bed time is around 10:30, at which time we roll out our thin mats on the linoleum floor, hang up our mosquito nets, and sleep like the dead until the morning sunlight streaming in the windows wakes us to another day.
It’s really not as bad as it sounds, though, when one has grown accustomed. I really enjoy being with the kids, so except for the language barrier (which still exists…will I ever be fluent?), spending time with them is more relaxing than it is stressful. And, aside from rising with the sun, I don’t mind having a rigid schedule. I think that it has helped me to adjust more quickly than I would have, had I been left to myself.
I get Friday evenings and Sundays off. I would probably stick around here and kick my feet up, if there was a place to do that. But the only places to sit are on small, plastic chairs, or the linoleum floor. So on Friday evenings I slip a book into my purse and hike (we live part way up a mountain) to a coffee shop. And on Sunday, after church, I take a bus to the house of a friend who’s gone all day, and crash on the couch.
The dorm where I’m living also houses eight high school girls and the dorm mom. I share a room with another summer volunteer, a Korean American girl named Ye-Kyung. She and I get along well, and have become friends very quickly. Perhaps that’s inevitable to two people thrust simultaneously into the same unfamiliar environment.
I have to take off to teach another class. But I’m glad that I got the time to fill you all in a little bit on where I am and what I’m doing. I hope to be able to write again soon. Meanwhile, all my love,
Elisabeth
It has been a very full week and a half. I can hardly believe that that much time has already passed. This has been a good place to spend time. Living here is a far cry from living alone, as I have these last two years, and I’m enjoying the company of over fifty squirmy, laughing kids.
We’re kept to a pretty rigorous schedule here, though. Raising at 5:45. Breakfast of kimchee and rice. Teaching, walking kids to school, and watching babies in the morning. Just before a lunch of kimchee and rice, I usually manage to squeeze in a ten minute shower. If one can say ‘shower’ of crouching on the bathroom floor, and using a little scoop to pour water over oneself from a bucket. We have a little bit of free time in the afternoon, and after that more teaching. Then dinner of guess what. Yup, kimchee and rice. Bed time is around 10:30, at which time we roll out our thin mats on the linoleum floor, hang up our mosquito nets, and sleep like the dead until the morning sunlight streaming in the windows wakes us to another day.
It’s really not as bad as it sounds, though, when one has grown accustomed. I really enjoy being with the kids, so except for the language barrier (which still exists…will I ever be fluent?), spending time with them is more relaxing than it is stressful. And, aside from rising with the sun, I don’t mind having a rigid schedule. I think that it has helped me to adjust more quickly than I would have, had I been left to myself.
I get Friday evenings and Sundays off. I would probably stick around here and kick my feet up, if there was a place to do that. But the only places to sit are on small, plastic chairs, or the linoleum floor. So on Friday evenings I slip a book into my purse and hike (we live part way up a mountain) to a coffee shop. And on Sunday, after church, I take a bus to the house of a friend who’s gone all day, and crash on the couch.
The dorm where I’m living also houses eight high school girls and the dorm mom. I share a room with another summer volunteer, a Korean American girl named Ye-Kyung. She and I get along well, and have become friends very quickly. Perhaps that’s inevitable to two people thrust simultaneously into the same unfamiliar environment.
I have to take off to teach another class. But I’m glad that I got the time to fill you all in a little bit on where I am and what I’m doing. I hope to be able to write again soon. Meanwhile, all my love,
Elisabeth
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
A Little Bit Discouraged
Hi Sisters,
It’s been a long day, and I can think of no one I’d rather spill my guts on than you. I’ve been feeling a little bit discouraged, lately.
It’s difficult still being so unable to speak in Korean. I feel like a two year old, most of the time. It’s unbelievable to me that I can have put so much effort and time into learning, and yet still feel like I’m back at the very beginning. Ye-Kyung has to translate for me way too often. And when she’s not around, my own communication is laborious and slow. I can’t even begin to tell you how discouraging that is for me. This morning I shut myself in my room and cried, because I feel like these last two years, and the sweat, and loneliness, and time have all been so pointless. I want so badly to be able to speak this language. I want so badly to be a generous, compassionate person. I want to connect with the kids here. I want to interact with the staff. I didn’t drag myself through two years of language school to be sitting here today, still unable to interact beyond the most surface level topics.
It’s okay, if God can use it. I really, really feel that with my whole heart. If God is excited about my non-Korean, and non-ministry, and non-strength, then so am I. But…then why did He ask me to come? Why has He taken so much away from me? Why has he asked me to give Him my family and my home and my language? Why do I have to eat kimchee and rice three times a day, and sleep on the floor, and use a bucket and scoop to shower? Why can’t I have my beautiful mountains, and stars, and river, and ocean? Why can’t I just have stayed home and gotten married and had two and a half kids? Why must all I have come from all that I love, to the farthest place from it on the face of the earth? Even this whole Mongolia idea is a little bit of a slap in the face. I feel adrift and disoriented and tired.
I think about Doss and Deb a lot. Maybe because there are so many kids around to remind me of them. It’s so hard to be missing them growing up. It’s hard not knowing when I’ll see them again, and feeling so disconnected from their lives. I feel like I’ve missed out on so much, and now I ask myself why? So that I could learn Korean? So that I could minister to people? So that I could help Enkoreans? I haven’t succeeded in any of that, and I can’t help feeling like I’ve absolutely failed. And in that failure, like I’ve given up every precious thing, in exchange for nothing. I think that I haven’t been so discouraged since coming to Korea.
It’s funny, even as I write the above, my heart begs God not to give up on me just yet. I want to work with Him in Asia. I want so much to be with Him where He is, among the sick and poor and hungry. But here I am, sloshing through the mud, because I can’t wrap my mind around this stupid language, and because I’m trapped on the outside of a country that holds the people that God and I love.
So here I am: tired, discouraged, and frustrated. Maybe a little bit angry. Maybe a little bit afraid. But wanting to let go of having to be successful, both in ministry and in the language. I don’t want to be holding on to either of those things like this. I know that the problem lies not with God, but in my heart. And God continues to be patient and to shape me. Funny, I know that that is what this is, right now. I know that I’m being pressed and shaped, and that God has a purpose. It’s not pleasant, but I can hold my head up and move forward when I know that God has a purpose.
Please be praying for me. It’s far too easy to think about going home and never again doing anything that I don’t want to do.
Thank you so much for the pictures that you’ve sent, too. I can’t tell you how much pleasure it brings me to be able to see familiar people and places!
I love you. And after all of the above: I’m doing okay, because God is good. Really good.
Me
It’s been a long day, and I can think of no one I’d rather spill my guts on than you. I’ve been feeling a little bit discouraged, lately.
It’s difficult still being so unable to speak in Korean. I feel like a two year old, most of the time. It’s unbelievable to me that I can have put so much effort and time into learning, and yet still feel like I’m back at the very beginning. Ye-Kyung has to translate for me way too often. And when she’s not around, my own communication is laborious and slow. I can’t even begin to tell you how discouraging that is for me. This morning I shut myself in my room and cried, because I feel like these last two years, and the sweat, and loneliness, and time have all been so pointless. I want so badly to be able to speak this language. I want so badly to be a generous, compassionate person. I want to connect with the kids here. I want to interact with the staff. I didn’t drag myself through two years of language school to be sitting here today, still unable to interact beyond the most surface level topics.
It’s okay, if God can use it. I really, really feel that with my whole heart. If God is excited about my non-Korean, and non-ministry, and non-strength, then so am I. But…then why did He ask me to come? Why has He taken so much away from me? Why has he asked me to give Him my family and my home and my language? Why do I have to eat kimchee and rice three times a day, and sleep on the floor, and use a bucket and scoop to shower? Why can’t I have my beautiful mountains, and stars, and river, and ocean? Why can’t I just have stayed home and gotten married and had two and a half kids? Why must all I have come from all that I love, to the farthest place from it on the face of the earth? Even this whole Mongolia idea is a little bit of a slap in the face. I feel adrift and disoriented and tired.
I think about Doss and Deb a lot. Maybe because there are so many kids around to remind me of them. It’s so hard to be missing them growing up. It’s hard not knowing when I’ll see them again, and feeling so disconnected from their lives. I feel like I’ve missed out on so much, and now I ask myself why? So that I could learn Korean? So that I could minister to people? So that I could help Enkoreans? I haven’t succeeded in any of that, and I can’t help feeling like I’ve absolutely failed. And in that failure, like I’ve given up every precious thing, in exchange for nothing. I think that I haven’t been so discouraged since coming to Korea.
It’s funny, even as I write the above, my heart begs God not to give up on me just yet. I want to work with Him in Asia. I want so much to be with Him where He is, among the sick and poor and hungry. But here I am, sloshing through the mud, because I can’t wrap my mind around this stupid language, and because I’m trapped on the outside of a country that holds the people that God and I love.
So here I am: tired, discouraged, and frustrated. Maybe a little bit angry. Maybe a little bit afraid. But wanting to let go of having to be successful, both in ministry and in the language. I don’t want to be holding on to either of those things like this. I know that the problem lies not with God, but in my heart. And God continues to be patient and to shape me. Funny, I know that that is what this is, right now. I know that I’m being pressed and shaped, and that God has a purpose. It’s not pleasant, but I can hold my head up and move forward when I know that God has a purpose.
Please be praying for me. It’s far too easy to think about going home and never again doing anything that I don’t want to do.
Thank you so much for the pictures that you’ve sent, too. I can’t tell you how much pleasure it brings me to be able to see familiar people and places!
I love you. And after all of the above: I’m doing okay, because God is good. Really good.
Me
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Back in South Korea
Dear Friends,
It's good to be back in South Korea!
My trip to China was a good one. I got some much needed rest, and had a lot of fun meeting new people, seeing new places and visiting with Titus and Ruth. For having been there a month, though, I really don't have a lot to say. The reason I went was just to get a break, and how much can one say about rest? It was fun to explore the neighborhood that I was in, and to go shopping, and to try out a veeeery little bit of Chinese with the taxi drivers.
Actually, having to play charades for a month made me really appreciate how much Korean I can speak. It's good to be back in a country where I understand most of what's going on around me, and know my way about, and can understand the culture.
I came directly from the airport, on Monday, to Namsan Childrens' Home, where I'll be living for the next two months. It's a busy place, with 50 plus kids running around. I'll be working with another volunteer over the summer, and our main responsibility will be English teaching (surprise!).
Since it's only been three days (and also, because I have to take off), I don't have that much to say. Hopefully next time I write, I'll have more news for you all. Mostly I just wanted to touch bases and let you all know that I'm still alive and doing well! Thank you for your prayers!
Elisabeth
It's good to be back in South Korea!
My trip to China was a good one. I got some much needed rest, and had a lot of fun meeting new people, seeing new places and visiting with Titus and Ruth. For having been there a month, though, I really don't have a lot to say. The reason I went was just to get a break, and how much can one say about rest? It was fun to explore the neighborhood that I was in, and to go shopping, and to try out a veeeery little bit of Chinese with the taxi drivers.
Actually, having to play charades for a month made me really appreciate how much Korean I can speak. It's good to be back in a country where I understand most of what's going on around me, and know my way about, and can understand the culture.
I came directly from the airport, on Monday, to Namsan Childrens' Home, where I'll be living for the next two months. It's a busy place, with 50 plus kids running around. I'll be working with another volunteer over the summer, and our main responsibility will be English teaching (surprise!).
Since it's only been three days (and also, because I have to take off), I don't have that much to say. Hopefully next time I write, I'll have more news for you all. Mostly I just wanted to touch bases and let you all know that I'm still alive and doing well! Thank you for your prayers!
Elisabeth
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Going to China!
Dear Friends,
I only have a few minutes, but I wanted to drop a line.
I completed the Korean language course, and graduated on Friday! That was so much more difficult that I had bargained for, and is a relief to have over and behind me!
I’m taking off for China in an hour and a half (which is why I don’t have much time here). I’ll be there for a month, visiting friends, and getting a much needed rest, and then I’ll be coming back to Korea. I hope to work in an orphanage here, this summer. It would be a great way to practically apply my newly acquired language skills.
I wish that I’d had time to write earlier, and make this a longer email, but these last two weeks have been crazy. Had my finals last week, and am leaving two days later. It’s not just packing for a visit to China that keeps me busy, though, but packing to move out of my house. Since I don’t know where I’ll be living when I get back, I got rid of all my things, save two suitcases and four small boxes. A friend is keeping what I can’t take to China. So moving house, taking finals, and packing to move to China have made it next to impossible to do much else.
I may not be able to check my email, while I’m in China. So if you write, and I don’t reply, that’s why. But I don’t mind returning to a full inbox! =)
Please keep me in your prayers.
God is very, very good…
Elisabeth
I only have a few minutes, but I wanted to drop a line.
I completed the Korean language course, and graduated on Friday! That was so much more difficult that I had bargained for, and is a relief to have over and behind me!
I’m taking off for China in an hour and a half (which is why I don’t have much time here). I’ll be there for a month, visiting friends, and getting a much needed rest, and then I’ll be coming back to Korea. I hope to work in an orphanage here, this summer. It would be a great way to practically apply my newly acquired language skills.
I wish that I’d had time to write earlier, and make this a longer email, but these last two weeks have been crazy. Had my finals last week, and am leaving two days later. It’s not just packing for a visit to China that keeps me busy, though, but packing to move out of my house. Since I don’t know where I’ll be living when I get back, I got rid of all my things, save two suitcases and four small boxes. A friend is keeping what I can’t take to China. So moving house, taking finals, and packing to move to China have made it next to impossible to do much else.
I may not be able to check my email, while I’m in China. So if you write, and I don’t reply, that’s why. But I don’t mind returning to a full inbox! =)
Please keep me in your prayers.
God is very, very good…
Elisabeth
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Being in Touch
Dear Family
I have run into a cultural issue that absolutely stumps me. This is a first. There have been cultural differences that have been difficult to adjust to, or that I’ve disagreed with, or that have confused me. But this one is absolutely incomprehensible.
In class we often read chapters of random books. On one particular day the chapter we read was a story, the main points of which may be summarized as follows:
Six or seven young business men enter a small restaurant, and order some drinks, side dishes, and their meals. “But,” they tell the waitress, “Don’t bring our meals out until we’ve finished our drinks.”
Five minutes pass, and in walk four middle-aged men. They sit and order their food, which the waitress promptly brings out. When the young business men see this, they’re thrown into a frenzied rage, throw their glasses down, and storm out of the restaurant.
I read this story again and again, and was more confused with each reading. I finally looked up at my teacher, and shook my head. So she explained,
“Well, the business men got there first, so the waitress shouldn’t have served the later customers, until they had their food.”
The relational hierarchies in this country are so rigid! How can it be an issue for a later customer to be served first, if the former customer wants to wait?!
I am utterly perplexed, and sometimes wonder if I’ll ever entirely understand the Korean mind.
I’ve been quite busy lately. Busy enough, in fact, that I didn’t have time to fully prepare for the twenty minute presentation in Korean, that I was to have given on Monday, until the day before. Sunday evening had been set aside and preserved for that very purpose. I got home from Church at four o’clock (English services in Korea are generally held in the afternoon), opened the window to let in the beautiful spring air, and sat down to apply myself. I can’t have been studying for more than five minutes, before two or three winged bugs began to distract me in a general sort of way. I turned around to squish them, and as I looked up from the computer, the most remarkable sight met my eyes. A sea of bugs (termites, as it turned out) was pouring out of my kitchen. It was a rampage - there is no other way to describe it. The walls and floor of my kitchen were coated black, and bugs seemed to be spilling out of every nook and corner. I shot out of my chair with a stifled exclamation, slammed every door in my house to keep the invasion at bay, and darted over to my landlady’s house, to share the news.
She listened calmly to my rather breathless declaration, and when I had finished, replied, “I’ll call someone to come by within the next day or two.”
I felt that my house would not be standing still, in a day or two, and might even be found to have been entirely devoured by morning, but she apparently didn’t share my opinion. And, as her Korean is better than mine, she won the argument.
“If you must, you can go down to the corner store and buy some bug spray.”
So down to the corner store I went, but they had nothing other than a fine stock of mosquito spray, which was, I’m quite sure, very superior mosquito spray in every way, but not at all applicable. Back home I ran, empty handed, with the rather vague notion, since there seemed to be no other option, of smashing all of the hundreds of thousands of termites by hand. I hoped that I had exaggerated the situation in my mind. My hopes were dashed.
Back to my landlady’s house. This time I resolved not to leave until she relented, if it meant that I had to camp out on her floor for a week. Fortunately my bluff was never called. Two young men (presumably her grandsons) were sitting with her, when I returned, and when I saw them I knew I was saved; Korean men live to rescue childishly helpless girls from absurdly simple straits.
“There are bugs in my house!” I breathlessly clasped my hands, and opened my eyes wide, “I’m afraid of bugs!”
The eagerness with which they instantly sprang to their feet showed me that I had played the right card. I could only be glad that there were plenty of bugs to go ‘round, else an altercation might have arisen as to who should be the privileged champion.
I lead them back to my house, preserving a flurried façade, and opened the door.
Together they stepped inside. Together they stopped in their tracks. Then together they dashed back out, slamming the door behind them. They stood for a horrified moment, staring at each other, then the elder ran turned on his heel, dashed down the street, as I had done not long before, to that convenient corner store, and came back with the mosquito spray. He grimly stripped off his coat, untied his tie, rolled up his sleeves, set his jaw, and marched back inside. I noticed that his companion was content, this time around, to be relieved of active combat duty, and was composing himself to form the cheering committee.
Our hero whipped two hefty cans from their holsters, held them out at arm’s length, took hasty aim, turned his head away, and squeezed the triggers, emptying both rounds of poison into the air at once. Then he took another can, and coated the floor…or would have, if the floor had been visible. I suppose it would be more appropriate to say that he coated the termites that coated the floor. He did the same in my living room and in my entryway, then ran back outside.
“Don’t go back into your house,” He warned me, “You don’t want to die, too.”
I expressed my hearty appreciation; the firing squad waved off my thanks with a magnanimous gesture; the cheering committee replied, ‘you’re welcome,’ in English, then turned pink at his own boldness; and we each went our separate ways.
I waited around the corner until they had both gone out of sight, then came back and unlocked the front door, held my breath and dashed inside. The house was filled with a thick, poisonous haze. I threw some things into my backpack and slipped my computer and school books into their bag, and then hurried back outside, and wondered what to do next. I ended up calling one of my friends, who called his cousin, and she graciously invited me to spend the night at her apartment.
Needless to say, I didn’t get much studying done that evening. In order to make up for lost time, I got up at 5:30 the next morning, and took a taxi home. When I stepped inside, I was greeted with good news and bad news. The good news was that the bugs were all dead. The bad news was that the mosquito spray was oil-based.
So long story short, I studied for a few hours, and managed to stumble through my presentation. As soon as I got back from school, I lay down for a quick nap, and then the rest of the day was spent scrubbing layers of half-disintegrated termites off my floor, washing all my dishes, and throwing away all of the food that had been exposed to the poison. It was unfortunate that I had gone shopping on the afternoon of the invasion.
At ten o’clock that evening I was finally done. When I sat back and thought about it from first to last, the humor of it all hit me, and if there had been anyone to share it with, I would have had a good laugh.
I will have someone to share my laughs with soon: Amy Horn is going to be visiting me for a week. Her flight gets in at 4:30 tomorrow morning. Titus and Ruth are also coming down to Seoul, and they’ll get here on Monday. It will be so pleasant to see my friends!
I’ve been reading Isaiah, and a few verses in chapter 48 really jumped out at me,
“For my name’s sake will I defer mine anger, and for my praise will I refrain for thee, that I cut thee not off…for mine own sake, even for mine own sake, will I do it.”
Somehow it is very reassuring to me that, much as God loves and blesses me for my sake, there is in Him that which will – outside of myself – remain faithful, for His own sake, through eternity. That is unshakeable.
I’m going to wrap this up, even though I really haven’t said anything of much importance. I really wanted to get an email out this week, but now that I actually have a few short moments do write, I find that I’m too tired to think of much to write about. I guess that’s okay. The main thing is being in touch, right? =)
God be with you,
Elisabeth
I have run into a cultural issue that absolutely stumps me. This is a first. There have been cultural differences that have been difficult to adjust to, or that I’ve disagreed with, or that have confused me. But this one is absolutely incomprehensible.
In class we often read chapters of random books. On one particular day the chapter we read was a story, the main points of which may be summarized as follows:
Six or seven young business men enter a small restaurant, and order some drinks, side dishes, and their meals. “But,” they tell the waitress, “Don’t bring our meals out until we’ve finished our drinks.”
Five minutes pass, and in walk four middle-aged men. They sit and order their food, which the waitress promptly brings out. When the young business men see this, they’re thrown into a frenzied rage, throw their glasses down, and storm out of the restaurant.
I read this story again and again, and was more confused with each reading. I finally looked up at my teacher, and shook my head. So she explained,
“Well, the business men got there first, so the waitress shouldn’t have served the later customers, until they had their food.”
The relational hierarchies in this country are so rigid! How can it be an issue for a later customer to be served first, if the former customer wants to wait?!
I am utterly perplexed, and sometimes wonder if I’ll ever entirely understand the Korean mind.
I’ve been quite busy lately. Busy enough, in fact, that I didn’t have time to fully prepare for the twenty minute presentation in Korean, that I was to have given on Monday, until the day before. Sunday evening had been set aside and preserved for that very purpose. I got home from Church at four o’clock (English services in Korea are generally held in the afternoon), opened the window to let in the beautiful spring air, and sat down to apply myself. I can’t have been studying for more than five minutes, before two or three winged bugs began to distract me in a general sort of way. I turned around to squish them, and as I looked up from the computer, the most remarkable sight met my eyes. A sea of bugs (termites, as it turned out) was pouring out of my kitchen. It was a rampage - there is no other way to describe it. The walls and floor of my kitchen were coated black, and bugs seemed to be spilling out of every nook and corner. I shot out of my chair with a stifled exclamation, slammed every door in my house to keep the invasion at bay, and darted over to my landlady’s house, to share the news.
She listened calmly to my rather breathless declaration, and when I had finished, replied, “I’ll call someone to come by within the next day or two.”
I felt that my house would not be standing still, in a day or two, and might even be found to have been entirely devoured by morning, but she apparently didn’t share my opinion. And, as her Korean is better than mine, she won the argument.
“If you must, you can go down to the corner store and buy some bug spray.”
So down to the corner store I went, but they had nothing other than a fine stock of mosquito spray, which was, I’m quite sure, very superior mosquito spray in every way, but not at all applicable. Back home I ran, empty handed, with the rather vague notion, since there seemed to be no other option, of smashing all of the hundreds of thousands of termites by hand. I hoped that I had exaggerated the situation in my mind. My hopes were dashed.
Back to my landlady’s house. This time I resolved not to leave until she relented, if it meant that I had to camp out on her floor for a week. Fortunately my bluff was never called. Two young men (presumably her grandsons) were sitting with her, when I returned, and when I saw them I knew I was saved; Korean men live to rescue childishly helpless girls from absurdly simple straits.
“There are bugs in my house!” I breathlessly clasped my hands, and opened my eyes wide, “I’m afraid of bugs!”
The eagerness with which they instantly sprang to their feet showed me that I had played the right card. I could only be glad that there were plenty of bugs to go ‘round, else an altercation might have arisen as to who should be the privileged champion.
I lead them back to my house, preserving a flurried façade, and opened the door.
Together they stepped inside. Together they stopped in their tracks. Then together they dashed back out, slamming the door behind them. They stood for a horrified moment, staring at each other, then the elder ran turned on his heel, dashed down the street, as I had done not long before, to that convenient corner store, and came back with the mosquito spray. He grimly stripped off his coat, untied his tie, rolled up his sleeves, set his jaw, and marched back inside. I noticed that his companion was content, this time around, to be relieved of active combat duty, and was composing himself to form the cheering committee.
Our hero whipped two hefty cans from their holsters, held them out at arm’s length, took hasty aim, turned his head away, and squeezed the triggers, emptying both rounds of poison into the air at once. Then he took another can, and coated the floor…or would have, if the floor had been visible. I suppose it would be more appropriate to say that he coated the termites that coated the floor. He did the same in my living room and in my entryway, then ran back outside.
“Don’t go back into your house,” He warned me, “You don’t want to die, too.”
I expressed my hearty appreciation; the firing squad waved off my thanks with a magnanimous gesture; the cheering committee replied, ‘you’re welcome,’ in English, then turned pink at his own boldness; and we each went our separate ways.
I waited around the corner until they had both gone out of sight, then came back and unlocked the front door, held my breath and dashed inside. The house was filled with a thick, poisonous haze. I threw some things into my backpack and slipped my computer and school books into their bag, and then hurried back outside, and wondered what to do next. I ended up calling one of my friends, who called his cousin, and she graciously invited me to spend the night at her apartment.
Needless to say, I didn’t get much studying done that evening. In order to make up for lost time, I got up at 5:30 the next morning, and took a taxi home. When I stepped inside, I was greeted with good news and bad news. The good news was that the bugs were all dead. The bad news was that the mosquito spray was oil-based.
So long story short, I studied for a few hours, and managed to stumble through my presentation. As soon as I got back from school, I lay down for a quick nap, and then the rest of the day was spent scrubbing layers of half-disintegrated termites off my floor, washing all my dishes, and throwing away all of the food that had been exposed to the poison. It was unfortunate that I had gone shopping on the afternoon of the invasion.
At ten o’clock that evening I was finally done. When I sat back and thought about it from first to last, the humor of it all hit me, and if there had been anyone to share it with, I would have had a good laugh.
I will have someone to share my laughs with soon: Amy Horn is going to be visiting me for a week. Her flight gets in at 4:30 tomorrow morning. Titus and Ruth are also coming down to Seoul, and they’ll get here on Monday. It will be so pleasant to see my friends!
I’ve been reading Isaiah, and a few verses in chapter 48 really jumped out at me,
“For my name’s sake will I defer mine anger, and for my praise will I refrain for thee, that I cut thee not off…for mine own sake, even for mine own sake, will I do it.”
Somehow it is very reassuring to me that, much as God loves and blesses me for my sake, there is in Him that which will – outside of myself – remain faithful, for His own sake, through eternity. That is unshakeable.
I’m going to wrap this up, even though I really haven’t said anything of much importance. I really wanted to get an email out this week, but now that I actually have a few short moments do write, I find that I’m too tired to think of much to write about. I guess that’s okay. The main thing is being in touch, right? =)
God be with you,
Elisabeth
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