hanmingee.

jenga

I thank God for tears that clean and lubricate my eyes.

Tears. I love the smell of fresh tears. It means that I realized that something wrong with me. And that’s always funsies.

I came home from break last Tuesday and this is the laziest I’ve been in my life. I know, nothing to boast about.

When I want to escape the stress and pressures of school, I go home. Duh.
And when I want to wake up from a nap, I set an alarm.Duh.

Tonight was different. I woke up to shouting. A lot of shouting. A plethora of voices filled my humble home tonight. A lot of words were said. More shouted. Lots of feet stormed out the front door. Lots of tears were shed (90% me). Lots of doors were slammed. Lots of cigarettes burnt out.

And that’s all anyone reading this will know about my night.

But everyday, I thank God for my circumstances. I thank God that even though I may have had family problems, that they were not any worse than they were. That even though my mom may have lost have her job, she still had her life, her children, her husband, and her faith.

Seeing a nasty side of everyone in my family was discouraging. But when all the dust cleared, who was there, besides God.ClassicGod.

This conflict showed me a lot more about myself then everyone else. That I complain, whine, and hate my parents so much sometimes but I justify my emotions with my reasoning. But when my parents convey the same emotions unto their parents, I step in save the day, because they’re all being immature.

Why don’t I see it?

After everyone settled down, I experienced two things that I would have never imagined would happen to me.

I prayed with my little brother. And you can tell the HMCC influence is strong because I shared Jeremiah 29:11 with him. I hate to see him grow up with this. I hate that he has to hear the screams and that he has to see the tears. And worst, I hate that no one is home to comfort him. I asked him what he prayed for. He said he prayed for our grandparents to go to church. And for our Dad to stop smoking. And look at me. I say all the time that I’m burdened for my parents and I barely lift up a prayer for them.

I held my crying grandmother. She really gets on my nerves sometimes. And tonight I realized how selfish I was and how incapable of loving I was. It was strange, awkward, and comforting all at the same time.

Tonight was tough, but needed.
Sometimes, a little sugar makes the medicine go down. My medicine tonight was a little self-searching. But this was some super-bitter sugar.

All our troubles, All our tears, God our hope, He has overcome.
All our failures, All our fear, God our love, He has overcome.
God our Justice, God our Grace, God our Freedom, He has overcome.
God our Refuge, God our Strength, God is with us, He has overcome.

I miss everyone in Michigan.

and CBB. A lot.

• tpainyoutrick

Hebrews 10:14

You fill those who are empty.

I have an exam for my Sociology 100 class in about 6 hours but reading so many blessing blog entries over the past week has made me hungry to ramble a bit.

Freshmen year will be over in less than 10 hours.

I still can’t seem to fathom it. It feels like I packed up my bags, hugged my weepy mother, and moved in to the faithful Burlodge all in the last week. Freshmen year seriously flew by and I am still not sure what to make of the speed. Although this year went by terrifyingly quickly, I am blessed to say that this has probably been the best year of my life. And it feels even more awesome to say that I can’t wait to see what God has in store for me in my next three years at U of M.

I have grown so much over this year, through HMCC (my church here in Michigan), brothers, sisters, quiet time, joys, and trials alike. I do not think I have enough time to sum up my entire year in a tumblr post, but I can say this: I am messed up. Seriously messed up.

I am a sinner. I am filthy. I am wretched. I indulge in secret sins that crucified Christ to the cross, again, and again, and again. I am prideful. I am lustful. I am impatient. I am incapable of loving. I hold grudges. I hate people. I hide behind a mask. I think I have it all together. 

But one thing that I have learned is that His grace is sufficient to cover all of my sin, all of my weakness, all of my filthiness, and more. 

Coming into Michigan as a five-year alumni of the Hyoshin Praise team, four-time retreat student leader, and good and faithful son, I thought I washad it all.I thought God was proud of me because I had quite the number of titles and was going to a prestigious school to snag a few more. I thought I was a big shot. I thought I was humble.

Oh my, oh my. I waswrong.

I did not know what pride was and I did not know of the goldmine of it that was stored inside my small, frail heart. I learned that being humble was being proud, that being proud was proud, and that almost every single word I spoke, every action I chose, and everything else I did was out ofpride.God hates pride because pride keeps us from going to him for help. I am self-sufficient. “Oh, I got this.” That’s me. But God had something else in mind.

Coming into Michigan, I was (and still am) deathly afraid of my financial situation. I am currently swimming in loans for my undergraduate degree and this frightens me. First semester was a rough landing in Michigan for me. I bombed my classes and worst of all was afraid to tell my parents about it. I kept making excuses and told them I would show them later. Later.Later.

I promise,Later.

Coming back from Winter Break, I was motivated to do well and motivated to grow in my faith as I did first semester but this was not how the cookie crumbled. I had trouble praying, trouble worshiping, and felt disconnected from God. I did not know what it was until one ACCESS (our Friday service) where church members came up and shared testimonies about their lives. After listening to a sister’s testimony about confessing about something she did wrong and receiving grace, and hearing how a brother of mine received the perfect amount of financial aid when he needed it, I grew extremely bitter.

God, why can’t you do this for my family. My mom works hard and my dad works harder. I was faithful to you throughout high school and my Mom follows after you with a passion that I am envious of. Why.

Why is it that when I get tired, you don’t pick me up and carry me along the path. Why is it that you never calm the storms in my life. Why.

Why is it that my dad is still not a Christian, even though he shows me the most Christlike love anyone has ever shown me? Why is that there are people who are saved but they constantly sin against you and defile your name? That he goes to work at six in the morning til late at night in order to provide for our family and still makes time for his sons and wife? What if he dies before he accepts you as his Lord and Savior? He does not deserve any that. His family doesn’t deserve that. I don’t deserve that.Why.

I was upset. When we responded in worship I said a quick prayer. “God, I’m tired of searching. I want to find. Please.”

As I was worshiping, my phone vibrated, but I chose to ignore it. It kept ringing, but I ignored it. As we went into a time of prayer, I saw that my mom called me multiple times. At that moment it hit me. I was unable to connect with Christ because I was idolizing my parents. Their view of me. My grades. My image.

I went out into snowy night (sodramatic, I know) and called my mom.

“왜 전화를…”

And before she even finished, I broke down. Told her everything. That I was a failure as a son. That I knew how much money they put into my education but I chose to play around and not study. That I did terrible on my exams. That I lied about everything. I whipped up a silver platter of a ton of crap, failures, and shame.

And all I got was grace.

I was told that I was loved and that nothing could change that. In my failure and shame, I was presented with nothing but love and forgiveness. And as my LCG prayed over me, he prayed that I would come to realize something that has changed my life.

If my imperfect, sinful mother could show me this kind of love, I cannot begin to even understand the love of my perfect, Father in heaven.

I bashed God because he did not give me anything but this year in Michigan has shown me that he does not owe me anything. I expect so much for my deeds but I fail to realize that they are nothing but filthy rags before him.

And here I still sit. A prideful, sinful, imperfect, people-pleasing, attention seeking, infant on a long, tiring journey. But through him, I have strength.

That every time I fall, he’s there to pick me up. That even though this world changes, his love doesn’t.

From the beggar to the king, from the famous to the faceless. Everybody needs love. Who can reject a love without condition?

I have not even begun to crawl in my walk with Christ but I now know of the sacrifice that is required. That God asks of you and me to sacrifice everything to follow him.

Jesus replied, “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” -Luke 9:58

This journey is not a sprint, but a marathon.I’m far from the finish line but I know of the prize, and I know that it is worth it.

• Lost Sheep

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badkidnamedtofurrr:

Me Gusta. That’s all.

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That is racist.

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