This morning, my parents embarked on a one-week boat trip down the Amazonian rainforest with a medical team to deliver medical resources and education material. It fills me with worry and anxiety every single time they go on these trips. Will they wind up like Jim Elliot's crew? Will their boat break down or run out of gas mid trip, stranding them in the middle of the Amazon? Will they catch malaria again for the 8th time?
It makes me wonder what went through my mom's head the morning I was headed to Iraq with the US Army. My dad was in the Amazon without any way to reach her and now her son is heading off to a perilous destination. I woke up to my mom sobbing bitterly on my arm not saying a single word for what felt like the longest 30 mins of my life. I felt helpless, not being able to promise her that I'll return safely. With a happy face and bright voice she prepared breakfast for me, and said "잘있고, 힘내고, 알았지? (Be well and stay strong, okay dear?)". I imagine that what I'm feeling now is similar to what she did then.
Our family wouldn't have been able to survive the long list of myriad hardships we've faced to this point without our walk with Christ. I still have memories of when our family was barely able to afford food. My dad prayed and cried his heart out to the Lord, singing hymns of old from that little black Korean book with his guitar, with some days waking up before sunrise to go to church spending hours praying in tears before heading off to his low-pay hard labor job.
I'm not half the person of faith my parents were when they were my age, but these indelible memories are precious gems worth more to me than anything this world can afford, gems that I can follow now to "cope" with the uncertainty of their safety.
I pray that the Lord do His will, whether their trip ends in tragedy or they return home safely. His will is good (Rom. 8:28) and I'm grateful that my parents have been granted this privilege.
5. 5. 2021