Monday, September 10, 2007

My Dad

KeyChun Song is pretty amazing. He can windmill kick you in the face in an instant, he can heal you by sticking needles in you and making you drink the nasty stuff, and he can mesmerize you with a story. He is a great man. Not that he doesn't have his flaws (like we all do). He is hard-headed and has a bit of a temper. He is a proud man, sometimes to a fault.

Being with him in Korea was like that a bit. He had moments of being wonderful and moments of being a bit boorish (I will admit that I am not accustomed to being with my parents for 24 hours a day anymore either). There is a day I will never forget though, and shows me just how much my Dad has grown.

I explained in my last blog entry (I know it has been awhile) a little bit about how my Dad's sister and her husband (whom are both ministering in my Great-grandfather's church) were raising a fuss about it being the "80th" anniversary, and not the "75th". I would like tell you what my Dad did in light of that situation. Like I alluded to before, the first son is the top of the food chain in asian culture. What people don't understand about Asians, and especially Koreans, is how fiercely proud of a people they are. I think we see them in this country as being polite and respectful and small in stature, and we think they are such a humble and unassuming people. Please, don't believe that for one second. :) They will put their families in financial ruin, because they cannot be seen as lesser in the eyes of others, or admit they are erred or flawed in some way. Pride is something that asian males just have.

My dad is no different, although I have seen improvement in this over the years. When my Dad and I were talking about Aunt Doki that morning that he got the call to come speak, he told me that he was going to go their church service that night. He told me that he was going to speak to them from the Bible and be done with it. He hoped that they would hear what he had to say, but he wasn't going to worry about it. He was just going there to speak the truth and let that play out. This was a big deal in itself. Like I said before, it was expected that his younger siblings would come to him. Yet, this was my Dad, the first born, going and seeking them out. Which is pretty much a social no-no. Anyway, that was his plan.

We went sight-seeing that day, and had my uncle drop the three of us off at their church building so that we could attend their Wednesday night service. We went up to the second floor where they were holding the church service, and saw they had already started. My mom and I quietly slipped in the back and saw that their church service consisted of my aunt, her husband, and one other lady. My Dad told me later that his heart broke when he saw that. He told me that he went from wanting to be right and see justice, to just wanting to cry. My aunt saw my Dad walk in, and lost it. She started sobbing in the middle of the singing. My Dad again, went over to her and consoled her. He helped her find the page of the song they were singing, and helped her turn to the scripture they were reading. You could hear his voice reading over all the others. After the sermon, we all went downstairs and met in their office. We all sat down, and I watched my Dad speak softly to my Aunt and Uncle. He let them air their grievances, and while he didn't necessarily agree with what they had to say, he let them say their piece anyway. He spoke to them tenderily, lovingly, and yet sternly at times. He allowed Jesus to show up. We all talked after awhile and things were better. Much of the tension was relieved, and all seemed ok. We got up to leave, and as my Dad stepped out of the building, he turned to my Aunt and handed her all the cash in his wallet. He told her it was for the church, and to use it for the work of the body.

My Dad has come a long way. The Lord has started a work in him, that one day will be completed in Heaven.

2 comments:

scott said...

That's a great story. It's cool to hear about your Dad doing all that.

I feel like I was almost there! Except, a few thousand miles away.

Anonymous said...

still love this post.

kln