Love-soaked Raincloud, 2023
I have a friend I met while serving in the military in Korea. Back then, he was quite annoying. He would often make jokes about random things that never made sense, and he seemed to enjoy making them. One day, as we formed a line before lunch, he stood behind me and said,
“When I visit your mom’s restaurant and order the cheapest on the menu, will your mom bring out the most expensive meal for me?”
I thought it was absurd, knowing someone’s mother runs a restaurant. However, over time, we grew closer, and I discovered a good quality in him—his sincerity hidden behind his arrogant act.
Test printing at Laumont Photographics
Long Island City, NY (2023)
Years passed, and I received a call from my friend. He shared the news that his mother had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. For the first time, he asked me to pray for her—a surprising request, given his non-believing background. I promised to keep praying, and after we hung up, I felt a strong urge to visit his mother in the hospital and share some words of comfort and pray.
A few months later, I had a business trip to Korea planned for several weeks. I let my friend know I’d be visiting and suggested we meet on the weekends. His mother’s condition had taken a turn for the worse. Before we met, I asked if I could visit her if her health allowed it, and he agreed. We met for lunch at a restaurant, but during our meal, his phone rang. His aunt called to say that his mother had taken morphine and was resting, so visitors weren’t allowed. He apologized, saying maybe next time, and I reassured him it was okay. The call surely added more shadows to his face.
After he left for the hospital, I asked Holy Spirit why he prevented me from meeting my friend’s mother. At the same time, a mocking voice came into my mind: “Who are you to visit her and spread the gospel? You are nobody.” A cold wind swept across my face, and the question remained unanswered. I had to guard my heart.
While still working in Korea, moving from city to city, my last destination was Jeju Island, a one-hour flight from Seoul. It was Friday, the day before I finished work on Jeju, when I received a text from my friend saying his mother had passed away. I checked the funeral schedule and was relieved that I could attend it by Sunday.
After returning home late Saturday night from Jeju, the next day I rushed to the funeral house. I called my friend to ask where to go, and he told me the funeral was over. I had mistakenly checked the wrong time. I apologized, and he said it was okay and told me he’d pick me up to go together to where his mother’s ashes were stored.
On the ride to the ossuary, we were able to chat privately. He mentioned an incident at the funeral that he didn’t understand—his uncle, who has three kids, suddenly announced he would quit his job to become a pastor. He said, “I know you are a Christian, but he’s like out of his mind. I almost hit him yesterday.” He asked what I thought about his uncle’s decision from my perspective. I told him that from my standpoint, I didn’t have much to say, but sometimes so-called Christians like myself might speak things we believe are from God, yet they may be tainted by our own desires.
Love-soaked Raincloud, 2023
I have a friend I met while serving in the military in Korea. Back then, he was quite annoying. He would often make jokes about random things that never made sense, and he seemed to enjoy making them. One day, as we formed a line before lunch, he stood behind me and said,
“When I visit your mom’s restaurant and order the cheapest on the menu, will your mom bring out the most expensive meal for me?”
I thought it was absurd, knowing someone’s mother runs a restaurant. However, over time, we grew closer, and I discovered a good quality in him—his sincerity hidden behind his arrogant act.
Test printing at Laumont Photographics
Long Island City, NY (2023)
Years passed, and I received a call from my friend. He shared the news that his mother had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. For the first time, he asked me to pray for her—a surprising request, given his non-believing background. I promised to keep praying, and after we hung up, I felt a strong urge to visit his mother in the hospital and share some words of comfort and pray.
A few months later, I had a business trip to Korea planned for several weeks. I let my friend know I’d be visiting and suggested we meet on the weekends. His mother’s condition had taken a turn for the worse. Before we met, I asked if I could visit her if her health allowed it, and he agreed. We met for lunch at a restaurant, but during our meal, his phone rang. His aunt called to say that his mother had taken morphine and was resting, so visitors weren’t allowed. He apologized, saying maybe next time, and I reassured him it was okay. The call surely added more shadows to his face.
After he left for the hospital, I asked Holy Spirit why he prevented me from meeting my friend’s mother. At the same time, a mocking voice came into my mind: “Who are you to visit her and spread the gospel? You are nobody.” A cold wind swept across my face, and the question remained unanswered. I had to guard my heart.
While still working in Korea, moving from city to city, my last destination was Jeju Island, a one-hour flight from Seoul. It was Friday, the day before I finished work on Jeju, when I received a text from my friend saying his mother had passed away. I checked the funeral schedule and was relieved that I could attend it by Sunday.
After returning home late Saturday night from Jeju, the next day I rushed to the funeral house. I called my friend to ask where to go, and he told me the funeral was over. I had mistakenly checked the wrong time. I apologized, and he said it was okay and told me he’d pick me up to go together to where his mother’s ashes were stored.
On the ride to the ossuary, we were able to chat privately. He mentioned an incident at the funeral that he didn’t understand—his uncle, who has three kids, suddenly announced he would quit his job to become a pastor. He said, “I know you are a Christian, but he’s like out of his mind. I almost hit him yesterday.” He asked what I thought about his uncle’s decision from my perspective. I told him that from my standpoint, I didn’t have much to say, but sometimes so-called Christians like myself might speak things we believe are from God, yet they may be tainted by our own desires.
On the way to ossuary, Seoul, Korea (2023)
The conversation continued, and he spoke about his mother. “You know, my dad used to hate church-goers back then. But when my mother was hospitalized, the church people did very well, visiting my mother and giving hopeful words. My father changed; he now attends church with my younger sister every Sunday. And my aunt is a Christian too.”
While learning these unexpected things about his family, we arrived at the ossuary. The air was chilly, but the sun shined brightly. The ossuary was huge, with many different buildings categorized by religion.
“It’s here,” he said.
I looked up and read the name of the building: ‘Ossuary for Christians’. We went to the basement level where his mother’s ashes were stored.
Detail image of Love-soaked Raincloud, 2023
“Here’s my mom. Say hi to her.”
I sat down on the bench in front of it and cried—not from sadness or pain, but because of the fierce love that had been relentlessly pursuing my friend. I felt humbled. On the ride back to the subway station, I wanted to tell him that he is loved. Before stepping out of the car and saying goodbye, I told him that God loves him.
Back in New York, before I had fully recovered from jet lag, I attended a worship night by a famous Korean worship band. Everything was good, except the band seemed to be struggling with jet lag too—just like me—as they went off-pitch and off-beat. They apologized for their condition.
During the prayer time, some people loudly sang and praised, while others prayed in their own way. I closed my eyes, remembering the whole incident with my friend and the love I encountered at the ossuary. I felt God’s love pouring down like rain. I asked God if I could bring that raincloud over my friend in Korea and have that love pour over his soul as well.
Much like the friends of the paralyzed man in Luke chapter 5, I hope my prayer was an act of faith—bringing my friend to Jesus with hope and trust in His power to heal and transform.
On the way to ossuary, Seoul, Korea (2023)
The conversation continued, and he spoke about his mother. “You know, my dad used to hate church-goers back then. But when my mother was hospitalized, the church people did very well, visiting my mother and giving hopeful words. My father changed; he now attends church with my younger sister every Sunday. And my aunt is a Christian too.”
While learning these unexpected things about his family, we arrived at the ossuary. The air was chilly, but the sun shined brightly. The ossuary was huge, with many different buildings categorized by religion.
“It’s here,” he said.
I looked up and read the name of the building: ‘Ossuary for Christians’. We went to the basement level where his mother’s ashes were stored.
Detail image of Love-soaked Raincloud, 2023
“Here’s my mom. Say hi to her.”
I sat down on the bench in front of it and cried—not from sadness or pain, but because of the fierce love that had been relentlessly pursuing my friend. I felt humbled. On the ride back to the subway station, I wanted to tell him that he is loved. Before stepping out of the car and saying goodbye, I told him that God loves him.
Back in New York, before I had fully recovered from jet lag, I attended a worship night by a famous Korean worship band. Everything was good, except the band seemed to be struggling with jet lag too—just like me—as they went off-pitch and off-beat. They apologized for their condition.
During the prayer time, some people loudly sang and praised, while others prayed in their own way. I closed my eyes, remembering the whole incident with my friend and the love I encountered at the ossuary. I felt God’s love pouring down like rain. I asked God if I could bring that raincloud over my friend in Korea and have that love pour over his soul as well.
Much like the friends of the paralyzed man in Luke chapter 5, I hope my prayer was an act of faith—bringing my friend to Jesus with hope and trust in His power to heal and transform.
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Luke 5:17-20
One day Jesus was teaching, and Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting there. They had come from every village of Galilee and from Judea and Jerusalem. And the power of the Lord was with Jesus to heal the sick. Some men came carrying a paralyzed man on a mat and tried to take him into the house to lay him before Jesus. When they could not find a way to do this because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on his mat through the tiles into the middle of the crowd, right in front of Jesus.
When Jesus saw their faith, he said,
“Friend, your sins are forgiven.”
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Luke 5:17-20
One day Jesus was teaching, and Pharisees and teachers of the law were sitting there. They had come from every village of Galilee and from Judea and Jerusalem. And the power of the Lord was with Jesus to heal the sick. Some men came carrying a paralyzed man on a mat and tried to take him into the house to lay him before Jesus. When they could not find a way to do this because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on his mat through the tiles into the middle of the crowd, right in front of Jesus.
When Jesus saw their faith, he said,
“Friend, your sins are forgiven.”
···