I just finished one of my favorite weekend activities. A group met with me at Songtan subway station. Some of us were armed with bags of toiletries, and all of us were ready for a visit. Only two out of the six of us were fluent in Korean, so some were better prepared than others. Soon we'd arrive at In Su Won Grandma House with a warm greeting and some spare time for a visit.
We visited first with the lady in charge. The place runs on donations, so we ask what they need. Tissues, she said. Lots of tissues.
They are doing well for food. That made me want to smile. It was good to hear they have enough.
We enjoyed tea and cookies as we visited. Every time we come to serve we get served in the process. It makes me laugh.
We talked to three ladies first, and one proved quite friendly. She said that she had family in the U.S. and used to live there herself. However, she lived in a Korean community so she didn't know much English. She liked my camera and asked if we'd take a picture of her with some of us. Later she asked if we would print out the picture and bring it back next time. She wants to send it to her family.
Next time. The ladies there, including the person in charge, stated a need for us to come more often. That way they'll remember us better. I hope it's possible.
We were led to the main area, and then the real fun began. We sat around a table and exchanged songs. One lady sang a lot, ending her songs abruptly with an "OK." Hymns ended with an equally abrupt "Amen." They all ended to applause.
We were asked to rehearse next time we come back as we struggled to think of songs to exchange. We came up with some old classics like "Jesus Loves Me", among others. The lady next to me slapped my leg as I didn't know the Korean words to the song she sang. "You should sing to us," she scolded.
Everyone seemed happy to see us. Whether we could communicate or not, they thanked us for coming and said they were glad to see us. We said the same.
One lady explained rather loudly to the lady next to her that we were foreigners and that's why we couldn't understand her. I then noticed she was blind. I greeted her, and she thanked us for coming.
An hour and some change came and went. We had to leave, saying goodbye to each person as we left. Hopefully more of us will come, and more often. Next time.
Showing posts with label the fatherless and the widow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the fatherless and the widow. Show all posts
Friday, August 22, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Book Review and Newsy-Type Stuff
WARNING! This will be long, but there's a lot to share.
I'll start at the end of the weekend, since it's fun to think like that. I finished reading Sex God by Rob Bell on the bus ride home from church. I liked it better than Velvet Elvis. It even beat the catchy title of the first one. It doesn't rhyme, but if you put those words together, people will read it.
The gist is that people use sex as a search for a lost connection. Due to the Fall in the Garden of Eden, we are disconnected from everything-the world, God, each other. So even sex points to a need for more than what we have.
It was also helpful to hear many of the references God uses that are actually wedding language. Marriage is great, and should be an example of unity, but it is a temporary thing that points to something greater. Good book.
The best part is, a book entitled Sex God makes the point that we think too much about sex. Brilliant.
Before I finished the book, I enjoyed Bible study and lunch with the college group in our church. Beka and I talked about going to India this Saturday for Spring Break and answered "I don't know" to a dozen or so questions. We're going to find out information about a possible mission trip for our school to go on in the future. We'll have the answers in a couple of weeks.
In Bible study we interrupted our lesson about Moses to discuss the morning sermon. Our pastor mentioned the joy of the resurrection. I underlined the passage in Romans before he preached, and wondered why we seem to have more of the morbidity of the crucifixion in us minus the aforementioned joy of the resurrection. When I asked about prayer requests, one group member said she wanted the joy of the resurrection in her life. I hadn't yet mentioned it. I said that probably goes for all of us, so in the middle of the lesson we talked a bit about what that looks like. Eventually we got back to the water turning into blood. It waited patiently.
Saturday evening we saw a good show on the Discovery Channel about a maximum security prison in Utah. Neither the guards nor the prisoners milked the show for sympathy or publicity. I was shocked about how honest they all were. A prisoner was crying because he would be let out of prison eventually. He was literally covered in tattoos , showing loyalty to a gang for survival. He pleaded, "Who will accept me like this out there?"
Some prisoners calmly explained how they attacked guards. It's what they do. The guards explained some of those attacks with a flat, emotionless, "That wasn't pleasant."
The part that broke my heart was the silent acceptance they all seemed to have of their "roles" in life. I'm a violent criminal, so I have to be violent. I'm a guard, so I'm going to be attacked. The second one makes more sense, but it doesn't lessen the sadness.
It ended with a man being released. "(Bleep) this place", he cheerfully exclaimed as he strolled out, hoping he'd be able to "make it". I'm a sap, but I hoped he might.
That afternoon we went bowling and ate pizza with 20 people from a church, a handful of students from our school, and eleven kids ages six to fourteen from an orphanage. The younger ones enjoyed rolling the bowling balls, and once we got them to learn the concept of taking turns, the chaos was controlled. It was a lot of fun.
One older kid, about fourteen, didn't want to bowl. He watched some TV and got bored with that as well. I played rock, paper, scissors with him a few times, and he smiled. He kept winning.
At first he looked like he was going to wander out of the bowling alley. I tried talking to him a bit and reminded myself to bring some cards next time we do something like this.
The woman who runs the orphanage said the kids need help learning English. I asked if a group from our school would be any help. They would. Hopefully we can get some concrete dates worked out. I'll remember some games next time.
I'll start at the end of the weekend, since it's fun to think like that. I finished reading Sex God by Rob Bell on the bus ride home from church. I liked it better than Velvet Elvis. It even beat the catchy title of the first one. It doesn't rhyme, but if you put those words together, people will read it.
The gist is that people use sex as a search for a lost connection. Due to the Fall in the Garden of Eden, we are disconnected from everything-the world, God, each other. So even sex points to a need for more than what we have.
It was also helpful to hear many of the references God uses that are actually wedding language. Marriage is great, and should be an example of unity, but it is a temporary thing that points to something greater. Good book.
The best part is, a book entitled Sex God makes the point that we think too much about sex. Brilliant.
Before I finished the book, I enjoyed Bible study and lunch with the college group in our church. Beka and I talked about going to India this Saturday for Spring Break and answered "I don't know" to a dozen or so questions. We're going to find out information about a possible mission trip for our school to go on in the future. We'll have the answers in a couple of weeks.
In Bible study we interrupted our lesson about Moses to discuss the morning sermon. Our pastor mentioned the joy of the resurrection. I underlined the passage in Romans before he preached, and wondered why we seem to have more of the morbidity of the crucifixion in us minus the aforementioned joy of the resurrection. When I asked about prayer requests, one group member said she wanted the joy of the resurrection in her life. I hadn't yet mentioned it. I said that probably goes for all of us, so in the middle of the lesson we talked a bit about what that looks like. Eventually we got back to the water turning into blood. It waited patiently.
Saturday evening we saw a good show on the Discovery Channel about a maximum security prison in Utah. Neither the guards nor the prisoners milked the show for sympathy or publicity. I was shocked about how honest they all were. A prisoner was crying because he would be let out of prison eventually. He was literally covered in tattoos , showing loyalty to a gang for survival. He pleaded, "Who will accept me like this out there?"
Some prisoners calmly explained how they attacked guards. It's what they do. The guards explained some of those attacks with a flat, emotionless, "That wasn't pleasant."
The part that broke my heart was the silent acceptance they all seemed to have of their "roles" in life. I'm a violent criminal, so I have to be violent. I'm a guard, so I'm going to be attacked. The second one makes more sense, but it doesn't lessen the sadness.
It ended with a man being released. "(Bleep) this place", he cheerfully exclaimed as he strolled out, hoping he'd be able to "make it". I'm a sap, but I hoped he might.
That afternoon we went bowling and ate pizza with 20 people from a church, a handful of students from our school, and eleven kids ages six to fourteen from an orphanage. The younger ones enjoyed rolling the bowling balls, and once we got them to learn the concept of taking turns, the chaos was controlled. It was a lot of fun.
One older kid, about fourteen, didn't want to bowl. He watched some TV and got bored with that as well. I played rock, paper, scissors with him a few times, and he smiled. He kept winning.
At first he looked like he was going to wander out of the bowling alley. I tried talking to him a bit and reminded myself to bring some cards next time we do something like this.
The woman who runs the orphanage said the kids need help learning English. I asked if a group from our school would be any help. They would. Hopefully we can get some concrete dates worked out. I'll remember some games next time.
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