Where Love Rests, 2020

As I walked the streets late one afternoon, when the sun was inviting the moon to rise, a thought came to me:

“God has been waiting for me, and He waited with His love.”

That realization made me think about my relationships with my church friends during that time. Everything was fine until I started attending church with my ex. For reasons I never fully understood, she didn’t get along with them—or maybe they didn’t get along with her.

Within a few months, tensions rose and eventually died down. My ex stopped coming to church. What frustrated me most in those days was hearing “We love you” every time I walked in. Those words, meant to comfort, only made me angrier. How could they say they loved me while treating the person beside me so differently? Their words felt empty, and I brushed off their hollow comfort. My resentment only grew.

A few months passed. I still attended church, but I kept my distance from most activities. That summer, there was a Young Adults retreat planned. A friend invited me several times, but I refused over and over. My bitterness never faded; it was like being trapped in a swamp of anger I couldn’t escape. I hated those people so much that, without realizing it, I was worshiping my own hatred. (Ah, what frail creatures we are.)

Detail image of Where Love Rests, 2020

During this time, I lived in a small half-basement studio in a neighborhood called Sunnyside—ironically, my room never saw sunlight, since the tiny window faced away from the sun and was blocked by nearby buildings.

One dull day, my roommate handed me a book: The Story of Marriage by John & Lisa Bevere. With nothing else to do, I started reading. I paused at the part where the husband(John), in anger, hit the wife(Lisa). Lisa prayed, telling God she couldn’t continue the marriage unless He changed her husband. As she meditated on John’s faults, Lisa heard God say:

“You should change, not him.”

Confused, I closed the book and lay on the floor, wondering why God would tell the wife to change when the husband was clearly in the wrong.

The night I read the book, Sunnyside, NY (2020)

Bored, I decided to pray. As I knelt, the story from the book replayed in my mind, along with the empty words from my church friends. Suddenly, my anger flared up again—they were the ones who had done wrong. In my prayer, I judged and condemned them. But then, I felt I heard the same message: “It is you who should change, not them.”

I was furious. I vented my anger with curses and yelling.

“Why me? It’s them! They should be punished. They should apologize—for what they did to me and to my friend!”

But the answer was firm:

“No, it’s you who should apologize.”

This argument with God went on for a while. Then a new thought came to me. I had never really listened to God or obeyed His voice. If this really was God speaking, maybe I should try to obey—just this once. So I said,

“I’m not sure if this is really You. But if it is, then for the first time, I want to do what You ask. You should know, though, I don’t feel like apologizing. I don’t feel like asking for forgiveness. I don’t even feel like I did anything wrong. But because You say so, I’ll do it.”

So just a week before the retreat, I agreed to go. No one knew my real reason—I planned to publicly admit my hatred and apologize. In my mind, I rehearsed everything I would say.

On the third night, around the campfire, people took turns sharing. When my turn came, all my carefully planned words disappeared. Instead, I broke down, sobbing for a good few minutes. All I managed to say was that I wanted to apologize to three people I had hated most. I told them, “I’m sorry. I came here to say this. I don’t know what will come of it, but I hope it leads to something good.”

To make a long story short, reconciliation followed. The very afternoon, when the sun was inviting the moon to rise, when I realized God had been waiting for me with love, I also realized my church friends had been waiting too—with the love of Jesus.

And that’s how ‘Where Love Rests’ and the flower I named the ‘Flower of Waiting’ were born.

To love is to wait, and to wait is to love.

Where Love Rests, 2020

As I walked the streets late one afternoon, when the sun was inviting the moon to rise, a thought came to me:

“God has been waiting for me, and He waited with His love.”

That realization made me think about my relationships with my church friends during that time. Everything was fine until I started attending church with my ex. For reasons I never fully understood, she didn’t get along with them—or maybe they didn’t get along with her.

Detail image of Where Love Rests, 2020

Within a few months, tensions rose and eventually died down. My ex stopped coming to church. What frustrated me most in those days was hearing “We love you” every time I walked in. Those words, meant to comfort, only made me angrier. How could they say they loved me while treating the person beside me so differently? Their words felt empty, and I brushed off their hollow comfort. My resentment only grew.

A few months passed. I still attended church, but I kept my distance from most activities. That summer, there was a Young Adults retreat planned. A friend invited me several times, but I refused over and over. My bitterness never faded; it was like being trapped in a swamp of anger I couldn’t escape. I hated those people so much that, without realizing it, I was worshiping my own hatred. (Ah, what a frail creature I am.)

The night I read the book, Sunnyside, NY (2020)

During this time, I lived in a small half-basement studio in a neighborhood called Sunnyside—ironically, my room never saw sunlight, since the tiny window faced away from the sun and was blocked by nearby buildings.

One dull day, my roommate handed me a book: The Story of Marriage by John & Lisa Bevere. With nothing else to do, I started reading. I paused at the part where the husband(John), in anger, hit the wife(Lisa). Lisa prayed, telling God she couldn’t continue the marriage unless He changed her husband. As she meditated on John’s faults, Lisa heard God say:

“You should change, not him.”

Confused, I closed the book and lay on the floor, wondering why God would tell the wife to change when the husband was clearly in the wrong.

1 3

Bored, I decided to pray. As I knelt, the story from the book replayed in my mind, along with the empty words from my church friends. Suddenly, my anger flared up again—they were the ones who had done wrong. In my prayer, I judged and condemned them. But then, I felt I heard the same message: “It is you who should change, not them.”

I was furious. I vented my anger with curses and yelling.

“Why me? It’s them! They should be punished. They should apologize—for what they did to me and to my friend!”

But the answer was firm:

“No, it’s you who should apologize.”

This argument with God went on for a while. Then a new thought came to me. I had never really listened to God or obeyed His voice. If this really was God speaking, maybe I should try to obey—just this once. So I said,

“I’m not sure if this is really You. But if it is, then for the first time, I want to do what You ask. You should know, though, I don’t feel like apologizing. I don’t feel like asking for forgiveness. I don’t even feel like I did anything wrong. But because You say so, I’ll do it.”

Detail image of Where Love Rests, 2020

So just a week before the retreat, I agreed to go. No one knew my real reason—I planned to publicly admit my hatred and apologize. In my mind, I rehearsed everything I would say.

On the third night, around the campfire, people took turns sharing. When my turn came, all my carefully planned words disappeared. Instead, I broke down, sobbing for a good few minutes. All I managed to say was that I wanted to apologize to three people I had hated most. I told them, “I’m sorry. I came here to say this. I don’t know what will come of it, but I hope it leads to something good.”

To make a long story short, reconciliation followed. The very afternoon, when the sun was inviting the moon to rise, when I realized God had been waiting for me with love, I also realized my church friends had been waiting too—with the love of Jesus.

And that’s how ‘Where Love Rests’ and the flower I named the ‘Flower of Waiting’ were born.

To love is to wait, and to wait is to love.

Detail image of Where Love Rests, 2020

If waiting could bloom, become a flower, its name shall be love

When a wish falls short, let it ride the wind anew

When a snow covers tall, sprouts dance for coming Spring beneath

When silence dries your soul thin, remember the fragrance of your flower shall be named love

If waiting could bloom, become a flower, its name shall be love

When a wish falls short, let it ride the wind anew

When a snow covers tall, sprouts dance for coming Spring beneath

When silence dries your soul thin, remember the fragrance of your flower shall be named love

···

1 John 4:10

This is love: not that we loved God,
but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.

···

Detail image of Where Love Rests, 2020

···

1 John 4:10

This is love: not that we loved God,
but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.

···