Category Archives: Personal

I Have The Body of a Victoria Secret Angel

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Well, not really. Actually, far from it.
I just wanted your attention. Ha.

Recently, Kylie Bisutti was back in the press.
A while back, she made a small splash when she said that she was going to quit being a Victoria Secret model due to her faith.
She’s back in the news because she’s now coming out with a new book, I’m No Angel. (Victoria  Secret has come out and said that Kylie was never a Victoria Secret Angel and that a lot of her stories are fabricated. She won an online model competition held by VS and that was the only association that VS claims to have had with Kylie).

Kylie said that more than being a lingerie model, she felt the need to be a Proverbs 31 wife. I’ve heard that phrase, or title, quite often recently and I was a bit embarrassed that I didn’t know what they meant when they said Proverbs 31 wife. So I looked it up and saw that there was a section called “The Competent Wife” (Common English Bible). Funnily enough, there isn’t a proverb section called “The Competent Husband.” But maybe you don’t need to be a competent husband when you have 700 wives and 300 concubines. Or  if you’re the one writing the Proverbs, or something.

When I first heard this story — before she was coming out with the book and made national headlines — I have to admit, my initial reaction was an eye-roll. Like c’mon. Stop trying to be all holier-than-thou when this was the career that you were pursuing. Or just quit, without letting the world know.

But now, I commend her for standing up for who she believes she is. For not bending her morals for a paycheck.

Which made me entertain the idea that I have a rather divided self.
There’s the Christian/Pastor side of me. Then there’s Me. The crazy thing is I almost typed “the Real Me.” Which is just mind bogglingly boggling. (That reminds me. One of my first blogs was called Mind Bloggling. I thought I was so clever…)

I always thought it was naive for Christians to question the type of media that I (and other Christians) would engage in.
I’d roll my eyes or scoff when Christians would question my reading certain books (like Harry Potter… oooh wizardly magic) or listen to certain type of music (recently, someone in my office saw a book of poems by Tupac Shakur. They asked who that was, and I just responded, “It’s a modern theologian and poet” and left it at that) or watching certain movies and TV shows.

While I judge them to be super naive — I have to say that I admire their resolve to not compromise their beliefs. That they feel so strongly about God and faith that they are willing to put aside the immense popularity of a British boy who discovers he is a wizard.
But while I judge you, I ask that you won’t judge my indulgences. (Ha.)

Paul writes, twice, in 1 Corinthians, “Everything is permitted, but everything isn’t beneficial. Everything is permitted, but everything doesn’t build others up.”

Yea, I have the right to do everything and anything I want to — it’s a free country as they say.
But that doesn’t necessarily mean that everything is beneficial. And not everything doesn’t build up others. Nor does it build me up.

Over the past few years, my theology has grown and, yes, evolved.
I think that’s great. And necessary in my journey.
But — I also noticed that there is a shift in thought of how I approach faithful living. I’ve become more laxed in my approach to faith and spirituality. Does it have to do with my growth in theology? I don’t know. I don’t think so. But, it’s almost like, because I know more, I do less. 

When I went back to Hawaii recently, I got to see the things that my former youth kids were doing in their faith journey. Their dedication to spiritual disciplines. Early morning prayers every Saturday. Prayer meetings. “Rogue” Bible study meetings. (Where they just get together for bible study — but not really part of the “official” church ministry. My definition) And these were kids.

I got to see the things that my brother’s church were doing, in regards to their spiritual growth and formation.
While I may not completely agree with their approach — that almost makes me feel like they’re isolating themselves from the world — there’s something that feels right about their pursuit of spiritual disciplines and moral inflexibility. Something I sort of lack.

And I don’t like where this road that I’m currently on may be leading. 

When I was struggling with this, I ran across this blog post by Dan Dick (an excerpt from that post):

In a third setting, I advised the Trustees, Staff Parish Relations Committee, Church Council and Lay Leader join the pastor in a solid month of daily prayer and reflection on God’s will for the congregation.  I received a phone call the next morning from the pastor who told me, “You really blew your credibility with my key leaders last night.  We called you for your expertise in planning and you offered a bunch of fluffy hocus-pocus instead of practical ideas.”  When a pastoral leader accepts “fluffy hocus-pocus” as an uncontested definition of prayer, we are in deep trouble.

I don’t want to be in that kind of deep trouble.

But one can only compromise so much before losing their identity. And I think one ends up to a place where prayer seems like “fluffy hocus-pocus” through lots of compromising; by indulging in permitted, but un-beneficial, acts so much so that we end up forgetting who we are and, and even more important, whose we are. Sort of like giving up a birthright.
Esau is easy to make fun of, because he gave up his birthright for a bowl of soup.
But, c’mon. He’s not the only one who compromised their birthright — their identity — for fleeting moments of temptation.

Kylie Bisutti basically said, “This is who I am. This is what I believe. And doing that will compromise all of this.“
Many may not understand. I didn’t at first. And maybe I still don’t. After all, I could easily rationalize and justify it saying that it’s just a ‘job’; a means to an end; a guy’s gotta eat.

But, I do find it admirable that someone was able to stand up for what they believe in. (Without telling anyone else that they are an abomination and going to hell and yada, yada.)

the iPrison

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Once, we were at a restaurant enjoying our lunch, when I started hearing sound that wasn't part of the restaurant's music. It sounded like a live TV show with laughing and clapping.

I looked over and saw a mother and daughter eating lunch together. Only, they weren't really eating lunch together.

The daughter had her earphones on and was watching a Korean drama on her iPhone while eating.

The mother did not have earphones, but that did not keep her from watching her Korean talk show while eating her lunch — with the volume up high enough that we could hear.

(Cell-phone etiquette tip #1: No one around you wants to listen to what you're listening to. That also goes with those who have laptops in public places, like coffee shops. If you forget your earphones, do the right and polite thing — just wait until you get home to watch that video or listen to that audio clip. Oh. Tip #1.5 — also, in a public area, don't put your conversation on speaker phone. No one else is interested in your conversation about what you need to pick up at the grocery store. I guara-darn-tee it.)

It was such an odd sight. Mother and daughter eating together, but neither engaging one another. Why even eat lunch together? Or watch the same show…?

But it's a common sight, right? People walking around with their faces buried in screens (oh. Cell-phone etiquette tip #2: Don't walk and text. Seriously. It's a bit dangerous. Just youtube “walking and texting” and you'll see how it can be hazardous. Improv Everywhere even made a video about this epidemic:

I mean, it seems like we give someone about 2 minutes (at best) to intrigue us, or back to our phones we go.

Technology is supposed to make our lives easier. But instead, many of us find ourselves prisoners to the screens that dominate our lives.

At the end of the day, who's controlling who?

 

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones But…

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Sticks and stones may break my bones

Sticks and stones may break my bones (Photo credit: Joe Doe 2010)

(all together, now)
words will never hurt me.

One of the many lies of childhood. (Tooth Fairy? Santa Claus? Your face will get stuck like that?)
Well, actually, I really believed it growing up. I had to. Kids made fun of me so much, this phrase made me believe that I could be like rubber and “boing flip” words they said to me.

I think the phrase might be a ‘lil more accurate if the saying went something like,
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will have such a lasting effect that I may have to go see a counselor for the rest of my life. Thanks.”

I’m a clutz. I hit my head, shins, knees, toes anywhere and everywhere. It hurts when it happens. But the pain and memory of it eventually fades. (And I never learn, because I still hit my shin and knee on the same coffee table that we’ve had for years).

But, words? — man. We can recall the horrible things people have said to us decades ago, can’t we?

I remember talking to an elderly gentlemen who still could recall, with vivid memory, how when he was in the 6th grade, kids would call him “droopy pants” because his family couldn’t afford pants that fit him right. Over 6 decades later, he still remembered how those words made him feel.

I recently decided to revisit Luke’s Gospel for my devotions.
I’m sure I’ve noticed this before, but I didn’t really pay attention to it until this time around.

In the first half of Luke (that’s how far I got in my devotional readings, so far), most of Jesus’ healing miracles (if not all) are done by Jesus speaking to the person. More than touching the person to heal, he spoke to them.
Like the paralyzed man who was brought by his friends.
Like Simon’s mother in-law where Jesus “spoke harshly” to the fever she had.
Like the demons, in the story following Simon’s mother in-law, where Jesus also “spoke harshly” to the demons.
And so many more…

Not to mention, God spoke the universe in existence.

Which reminded me, once more that
Our words (also) have power.
Our words can build, restore, affirm, heal.
Our words can give life.

But our words can also destroy.
Our words can mar the image of God in a person.
Our words can snuff the light out of someone’s soul.

In the immortal and wise words of Uncle Ben, “With great power comes great responsibility.”

The problem may lie in the fact that many of us (myself, strongly included) may not think (or remember) that our words have such great power.

Or that adding, “… just saying” absolves anything horrible that was uttered before that two-word phrase.

Scars of the heart and soul don’t mend and heal as easily as broken bones caused by sticks and stones. Or attempting to jump over a friends car, and miserably failing. (Thankfully, the biggest injury was to my ego — not only was I embarrassed, I had lost the bet that I could jump over the hood of his car.)

May we be mindful of our words and use them not to belittle, deny, and destroy, but use them to uplift, to build and to give life.

“Organized” Religion? Have You Seen My Desk?

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No, seriously. 
My desk/office looks awful. 
I just keep piling more and more stuff on the desk. 
It’ll get clean, eventually. Just not today. Or tomorrow. Or this weekend. But eventually. 

In the meantime, see if you can spot these things:
coffee
Africa
coffeemate creamer
guitar tuner
JIF to Go Peanut Butter
Matches
An Old Cell Phone

And yes, those are Superman capes that are hanging on my wall. 

photo-3

Breathe…

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Breathe

Breathe (Photo credit: sausyn)

As I am praying and preparing for the next ministry opportunity here at St. Mark UMC, this entry in my personal journal from about two weeks ago served as a good reminder.

Time is not running out.

Breathe.

Don’t focus on the results, instead focus on the journey that you are on. Pay attention to the wonderful things that is happening to you and all of us on the journey. Because, you can’t control the outcome. You can’t predict the results. You can’t really force your goals to be met.

All you can do is do your best following the path God has us on.

So, be faithful and diligent in leading the people to God’s vision. Not yours. Never yours.

All the while, fully and wholly trust in God.
And when you take things to prayer, have the courage and faith to pray, “God, may your will be done, not mine.”

If we seek God and God’s Kingdom first and foremost, everything else will fall into place. Be prepared to understand that that may mean things will end up in a way that you did not expect. But live in the knowledge and trust that God knows infinitely more than you do. Because you’re not God.

Be strong. Be courageous. Be bold!

Be faithful. And be in prayer.

God is with me. God is for me.

God is with us. God is for us!

Breathe and enjoy the journey God has us on!

Jon Acuff and His Advice

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Opening Keynote with Jon Acuff

I like Jon Acuff. I think he’s funny. I wish I had his sense of humor.

He’s also the one that came up with one of my favorite Christian phrases: The Jesus Juke which I use often.

I thoroughly enjoyed his Stuff Christians Like and thought it was hilarious, though a few people very close to me didn’t think so. But I tell them, often, that they don’t have a good sense of humor.

He’s coming out with a new book in a couple of weeks called Start. And they were offering a whole bunch of things if you pre-ordered his book. As I was pre-ordering his book, I remembered he was offering something when he released his second book, Gazelles, Baby Steps and 37 Other Things Dave Ramsey Taught Me About Debt: he would take a look at your blog and give you tips, insights, and suggestions.

Well, I did pre-order that book but he never took a gander at this blog. It was no biggie. I honestly had forgotten about it until I was preordering Start.

So, I just tweeted him basically saying, “Hey you never reviewed my blog after I preordered Gazelles” thinking that he’d never see or get that tweet.

Wrong. He responded back immediately and then DM’ed (direct message) me asking for my email address. Immediately, I felt guilty and bad because I realized I basically called him out. But in our short exchange of emails, he was very kind and gracious and gave me these tips:

1. Be careful about the length of your posts. 5 years ago people would accept 800 word long posts but now with twitter and pinterest, the length needs to be shorter. Your last post was over 1,000 words. Shorten them.

2. Think about breaking longer posts into multiple posts. Do a series instead of one long post

3. Figure out a consistent posting schedule. I couldn’t figure out how often you post.

4. Cut your disclaimer in half. I think you can just say, “My thoughts don’t represent …”

5. Help me as a reader know what topics you are going to focus on. Maybe make that clearer in your subhead.

Great tips.
I already took care of #4 and #5. My subhead now reads “Thoughts on Life and Faith and everything in between, like Batman.” That’s a bit more clearer on what this blog is about than the previous one “Loving God and making my mistakes look gracious,” which the second part were lyrics from a Jason Mraz song.

The first tip — keep it short, I think is helpful (or if I know it’s going to run long, do a series) because there have been times where the post just keep going and going and going and I have no idea how to end it. Then I get discouraged, and I store it as a draft to revisit them later. (I have over 10 drafts sitting and waiting to be revisited…)

On the same line of thinking, I once thought preaching for 40-45 minutes was great. Gave me plenty of time to address everything I wanted to. Nowadays, I really enjoy preaching for 20-25 minutes. It makes preparation easier and I think it makes listening easier. I realized the extra 20 minutes in a 40 minute sermon were used for fillers, transitions, and/or various illustrations. I could still get the heart of the message out in 20-25 minutes without the extra stories.

I think shorter posts will also help keep this blog updated in a consistent manner, which brings us to tip #3.

I also don’t know my own posting schedule. I tried to aim for every Wednesday, but that doesn’t really work out for various reasons. I forget; I didn’t know how to end the post, so I store it as a draft; and other various reasons/excuses. I also aimed for two post a week, but that didn’t work out either. But I’m working on it. Having a consistent posting schedule, I believe, will help me stay on track, focused, and disciplined on something I really like doing.

Anyway, I’m grateful for Jon’s tips (and still a bit apologetic for my tweet). This blog gives me joy and an outlet to share my thoughts (though at the end of the day, that’s a bit egotistical. But, so am I, I guess) and so I do want it to be the best that I can make it.

So thanks, Mr. Jon Acuff for your help. And as always, thanks for reading.

Confessions – SimCity Edition

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SimCity 4

So apparently, SimCity came out with a new game, and I don’t know why I haven’t heard about it until today (at the time of writing this, it’s Friday and I’m waiting for my car to be done with changing its oil). SimCity is another favorite time-waster of mine. Though, considering how expensive games are, it’s probably more than I want to spend. Besides, I have other time-wasters in my life.

I only found out about new SimCity, though, because of complaints (through a post on Buzzfeed — another great time-waster). EA, I guess, had an option to play online or something along those lines. But, there were so many people who tried to log on, it crashed EA’s servers, so they got rid of the online play and decided to not offer a refund to those who were upset (or maybe bought the game because of that option).

Anyway, I don’t know exactly how old I was, when it comes to today’s confession. I want to say it happened in South Carolina, but that seems way too young (6th grade?). So it must’ve happen between 7th-10th grade which puts me in Santa Barbara, because I almost certain that this did not take place in Hawaii. And, I’m inclined to think that this was during jr. high, because — like all jr. high boys– I was a punk.

One day, I found myself in the school’s computer lab …hmm… maybe this was in high school… oh shoot… you know what? I don’t think I’d be too surprised if this actually took place at the University of Hawaii, which then makes me look really bad… but I digress. The point is, I was in the school’s computer lab and all the computers had games on them, one of them being SimCity. Somebody had saved a game on the computer that I was on, so I opened it to see what their creation looked like.

And, my oh my, this person had spent an enormous amount of time working on their city. It was really, really well built. I’ve never seen any SimCity like it. It almost looked like it was a default city that came with the game. But it wasn’t. It was more elaborate. More personal. There was sense to this city. A theme. Someone put their love into this. Trains. Airports. Bus stations. Sky scrapers. Buildings after buildings. It was as elaborate as New York City. I mean, I could’ve never had the patience to build such a city. There were no complaints from the citizens. Everything was running smoothly. It was a utopia. A futuristic utopia.

Now, one of the most fun parts of playing SimCity is the fact that you, as the creator of the city — as a god of some sort — can giveth and taketh away. And you taketh away through things like natural disasters and monsters and aliens. Earthquakes. Fires. Tornados. UFO attacks/invasions. And a Godzilla type of monster/dinosaur.

Can you tell where this is going?

I sat there looking at this person’s creation and I couldn’t help but think, “What would the people do if, let’s say, a UFO came down and started attacking them?”

The question did not remain rhetorical for long.

I sent a UFO invasion. And then another one. And then another. Then I sent Godzilla. Again. And again. Then there were tornados. And fires. And more UFO attacks. And more Godzilla. More tornados.

Until Every. Created. Thing. Was. Burnt. To. The. Ground.

In The Dark Knight, Alfred tells Bruce, “Some men just like to watch the world burn.”

I believe, on that day, I fell into that category.

It’s one thing to destroy the city you built and worked on. But, man oh man, was there a great, deep sense of satisfaction in destroying someone else’s work. With flying saucers and Godzillas.

I mean seriously. I was so giddy. So satisfied. It felt so good to be so wrong. So much so, I started looking at other computers in the lab to see if anyone else had a city saved on that computer. It was such a high, I wanted it to keep going.

No one else really did. I mean there were a few, but it wasn’t worth destroying. It was like one building. Or the start of a floor plan or something. No satisfaction in destroying something so little. It was unworthy of my attention.

But, hold on. The story doesn’t end there. It gets worse. How you say?

So I returned to the computer, looking at the great destruction that I had created (caused). That was a work of art too. It wasn’t easy sending attack after attack and natural disaster after natural disaster. It took a lot of mouse pointing and clicking. I mean, the entire city was destroyed. Burnt to the ground.

I could’ve simply walked away and called it a day. But. I had to let someone know what force of destruction I was. I had to send the message that I am some sort of destroyer; that I am Chaos. That I like to watch the world burn.

Sooooo…. I saved the game. Yea. Saved it, so that the next time this person went on this computer to continue working on his/her city, s/he would find, not the utopia they left behind, but their city in complete and utter ruin.

Only a smidgen of me felt bad. My Jiminy Cricket was on vacation that day, or something. The majority of me felt smug. And proud. And accomplished. “I wish I could see his face when he opens up his game,” I thought to myself as I was leaving the computer lab. (I don’t even know why I was there in the first place.)

I have no idea what came over me that day. It was a huge jerky thing to do.

And if I could, I would apologize to the person whose work I destroyed.

However… I cannot tell a lie… I think I would do the same thing if I found myself in a public computer like I did that day, years ago.

But, this time. I wouldn’t save the destruction. Or at least I don’t think I would…

What’s In A Name? Even if it is Blatantly Racist…?

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Starting today, the Washington Redskins will once again be fighting for the rights to keep their nickname.

Now, while I bleed burgundy and gold, I’ve always wondered how the Redskins have successfully kept their nicknames when it’s… well, it’s racist.

Redskins GM, Bruce Allen, basically said that the organization isn’t trying to upset anyone and that it is “ludicrous” for people to think that they are trying to upset people.

But, c’mon. Even as a die-hard Redskins fan, it is (at the least, a bit) racist. And offensive. I mean, if we were to add any other color… more people would flip. Right? Washington WhiteSkins? Washington Blackskins? Washington Yellowskins? Washington Brownskins? Washington Redskins — oh, right.

I guess what gets me is the reasoning. “We’re not purposefully offending someone. It’s not our fault if they get offended by something we mean no offense by.” That, to me, is a cop out.

Of course, it happens to us (the Asians) a lot. Or, more truthfully, I think it happens a lot because I’m more aware of the racist gestures towards Asian in the media…

Like the Spanish national basketball team:

Or Miley Cyrus and Friends:

Or the Duke Fraternity party:

Or the Chicago Cubs (for the player Fukudome):

The problem that I have with those things is, when people complained, the response was basically, “What? We didn’t think it was offensive. I don’t know why you would find it offensive. I guess we’re sorry that you’re offended. But we did it because it was funny. Sorry… I guess.”

Case in point: There was (is?) a restaurant in the North East called “Chink’s Steak.” Naturally, some Asians got offended by such a name and registered complaints. In an interview, the owner of Chink’s (who’s white) said (and I paraphrase):

“It’s not racist. It’s a nickname that my friends gave me as a kid. I had small eyes growing up, so they called me Chink.”

Yea… The origin of the nickname’s a bit racist. Not gonna lie…

Which is basically what the Redskins are saying.

“We never thought of it as being racist or offensive. That’s probably because we’re not Native American, but that’s besides the point. You shouldn’t be offended by it, because our purpose is not to offend. Besides, we could lose tons of money if we were to change our names. Don’t you know what happened with the NBA teams? The Bullets became the Wizards. The Wizards! How lame of a name is that? And the Hornets? They’re going to be the Pelicans! We want to avoid that, so don’t be offended, cuz we ain’t trying to offend.”

Yes, I believe we live in a hypersensitive culture that overreacts over every small thing.

But yet, there are good reasons why we shouldn’t use certain words to demean and belittle other folks, like “gay” or another slur for that. Or “retard.” Or use any racial slurs to describe people. Like Chink. (Take note, Papa Johns and Starbucks. Oh, and Chic-Fil-A.)

Here’s one Redskins fan who hopes that the people win this time around. I don’t care what the Redskins are called, I’d still root for them, I’d still bleed their colors if they were to change it, and I’d still loathe the Cowboys no matter what happens. And believe me, the team formerly known as the Redskins will still make a tons of money. If the Wizards, Thunder, Heat, Jazz, and yes, the Pelicans can (still) make money, whatever the new team name is, they won’t have to worry.

Being On Top of the Mountain

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On our last hiking trek that my wife and I engaged in on our regular trail, Inspiration Point, I realized that I have an anxiety problem.

I mean, I knew I always had one. It was one of the blaring and glaring reasons why I failed my ordination interviews in 2010. I got nervous. I got anxious. And I couldn’t hold it in (on top of that, I had caffeine coursing through my veins. Not the best mix of things). So I was going 1000 mph, all the while being a spazz. It was a wreck.

Unfortunately, the BOOM thought that I had ADHD and “strongly recommended” that I go see a psychologist, therapist, or a counselor to help me deal with these “issues.” (The last quotation marks are for sarcastic purposes.)

Look, I know I don’t have ADHD. And I think it was wrong for the BOOM to so strongly think that I had ADHD without any previous contact and/or conversation with me. Perhaps their resident “psychologist” wanted to exert his/her presence on the board. I don’t know. But don’t they realize how intimidating the whole interview process is and can be? And that nerves can, unfortunately, take over a Candidate, so much so that they can’t sit still or give straight answers? You’re sitting in front of a group of “colleagues,” some who you have never met before, who have this strange authority and power over the course of your career for the next few years. And in the end, it’s strange that I went through all that for a “piece of paper” that certifies that I am ordained, when in my heart of hearts, in the deepest corners of my soul, mind, and being I just know that God has called me into a life of full-time ministry. I don’t need a piece of paper or a group of people or the Bishop to tell me otherwise. In the big picture of things, it’s just a piece of paper and nothing more. Perhaps a piece of paper some of us felt we had to sell our soul for. I kid, I kid.

What I do know, or more accurately, how I feel, is that the BOOM tosses around the recommendation to seek professional help/counseling as much and as often as a good Korean boy craves rice and kimchi (just in case you don’t get the reference: a lot). Sometimes, it just seems like a go-to response to the ordination candidate. You know, like when a good friend is pouring out his/her heart to you and it’s filled so much anguish and pain and you don’t know what to say or how to phrase words to help your friend in need. But you feel the need to respond, because at this point silence doesn’t seem like the best answer. You search deep in your heart to find words to say to let you know that you’re with this person — although you can’t really imagine what the struggle really feels like. After searching for words, you just come back to the one phrase that you’ve told people throughout your life: “I’ll pray for you.” Even if they’re not Christian, “Look, I know that you don’t believe in God, but hey, man. I’ll pray for you.” (Which, if we’re not careful, can be as offensive as “Go see a counselor because we don’t think you’re completely healthy.”)

After each phase of my candidacy process whether I passed or failed were continued, it always ended with the recommendation to go seek a spiritual director, a counselor, or a psychologist. Most of the time without a reason why. “Just go see one for the sake of seeing one”, it felt like. “We feel like you’re on the right track in your calling and it is obvious that God is doing great things in your church and in your youth ministry. We, feel, that you can benefit from seeking a counselor or a spiritual counselor as you continue your ministry.”

It can be as generic as “I’ll pray for you” can be, at times. Like a one-size-fits-all cure. Until, I passed and became a full member of the Cal-Pac Conference. There was no mention of seeking a counselor of any kind. Which made me kind of curious. I guess I don’t need one after going through all the hoops I had to go through? I would think, after feeling like a good trained seal, who can bark and jump through hoops on command, at Sea World, now would be a good time to go seek a counselor to deal with all the emotional, physical, psychological, and spiritual stress brought on by the process and dealing with the BOOM and also the emotional, physical, psychological, and spiritual stress that we will accumlate as we engage in ministry and with God’s people.And funnily enough, when an opportunity came up for me to have a spiritual director recently, I signed up.

So the Board was concerned that I was dealing (struggling? battling?) with ADHD and recommended that I go seek help to deal with such issues. So, I did. I asked my health provider to provide a psychologist for me so that I can prove to the BOOM that they had no idea what in the hell they were talking about.

I met with my doctor. I gave him the letter that the Board gave me about the recommendation. Within the first 15 minutes of our conversation, and to my relief, the doctor said, “Look. I don’t even have to any tests to know that you don’t have ADHD. And in my professional opinion, it was very unprofessional for this ‘Board’ to suggest that you even have it. What qualifications do they have? It’s rather irresponsible. At your age, you would be dealing with ADD, not ADHD, because with ADHD you would’ve been diagnosed much earlier in your life. Not in your 30′s. So, you don’t have to worry about that.”

But what we did talk about was how I deal with anxiety. And I totally agreed with him there. I don’t think I handle anxiety very well. As much as I want nerves of steel or ice cold water running through my veins, I think when I’m nervous or anxious, I have a hard time hiding it. We spent most of our sessions aftewards talking about anxiety issues.

So there I was, almost at the top of the hike, almost to Inspiration Point (which, even though I’ve seen it dozens of time, it doesn’t fail to inspire me each time I’m at the top. It’s a beautiful site).

I was sick that week, so the hike was harder than usual. I called upon Jesus’ name many, many times in between hacking, wheezing, and coughing.

As soon as I neared the top, my mind instantly went to what I must do when I get back down. Sermon prep. Bible study prep. Do I have any meetings tomorrow? Am I forgetting something? Did I send in the newsletter thing? I must be forgetting something. I forget something all the time. What was I gonna blog on? Did I have something to do for my parents? How long is it going to take to get down? Did I pay all the bills?

I was sitting on a rock at the top of the hill, trying not to cough out my lungs, and instead of being focused on the amazing sight in front of me, I was consumed with figuring what’s next on my to-do list.

Out of nowhere, Rob Bell’s Everything is Spiritual started playing in my head. In the video, there’s a part where he talks about Moses climbing to mountain and where God commanded Moses to be on top of that mountain and how that’s a brilliant commmand. Because, Moses would’ve exerted all his strength and energy walking up the mountain, that when he arrived on top of the mountain, he’ll just start planning his trek down. And God wanted to Moses to be on top of the mountain. Just be. Don’t think. Don’t plan ahead. Don’t think about the trip down. Just be on top of the mountain. With God. In the moment. Be fully present in the here and the now.

And that’s what I really struggle with. And, unfortunately, sometimes it shows in the way I interact with people.

I know that I have an hour before my next engagement, as I’m talking to this person in front of me. I don’t like to be late. So, I’m calculating how long it’ll take me to drive to the next place, factoring in traffic. This person has approximately 25 minutes in our conversation to give me a safe cushion for the next appointment. But, as this person or group goes over the allotted 25 minutes and the time gets closer for the next appointment, I start getting antsy and fidgety and I can’t help but play that mental game of — okay, if I walk out with them, I won’t be late. All the while, I’m engaging in conversation with this person or group of persons.

I don’t like that about me. For no good or real reason, I’m always a step ahead in my head, thinking about what’s up next, what lies ahead in the week — causing me to miss out what’s going on right here, right now.

Who knows how many burning bushes I’ve walked by because I’m paying attention to nothing around me that is in the here and now. Instead, my head’s in the cloud somewhere, somehow. Which is good — but totally counterproductive if I’m in the clouds all the time, missing out on the things that are happening on ground-level.

It’s something that this hike has helped me recognize. Now that I know it, I just need to deal with it. Work on it. Get better. More attentive. More present. Aware of the here and now.

There is a time to think ahead, to plan ahead, to dream– day dream even, to vision. But what I can’t do is spend all my time doing those things.

There are more times where I need to engage, to be present fully, to minister, to be ministered to, to enjoy, to love, to live… to, simply put, be on top of the mountain, and nothing more and nothing less.

Trust in the LORD With All Your Heart …

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I remember telling my dad that I didn’t want to go through the ordination process.

Since I loved youth ministry and I wanted to do youth ministry until the day I retire, I figured I didn’t need to go through ordination to do that. And of course, the other part of the reason was that I just didn’t want to go through all that crap stuff.

But it’s a good thing I started the process back then.

I was serious about doing youth ministry forever, though. I really thought that youth ministry was the be all, end all of my ministerial career. I thought I’d be doing youth ministry well into my 60′s.

Maybe that’s why people say things like, “Want to make God laugh? Tell God your future plans.”

There came a point in time when I realized, while I loved youth and youth ministry, there’s got to be more to me than just the “youth guy.” There’s more to life, faith, and ministry than this one facet that I have been immersed in for the past few years. And I wanted to explore that.

That coincided with me being commissioned as a provisional elder. Which meant, I was going to appointed somewhere by the Cabinet. Which I thought meant, “I can try something outside of youth ministry.” Only, the Cabinet sent me to an Anglo church to be their associate pastor with emphasis on youth ministry.

This would be first time, in my life, where I would not be part of a Korean church — and with that came “culture shock” and a lot of adjusting and a lot of things that I had to get used to.

Like side comments that were meant to encourage me, but were a bit offensive like, “I was so worried about your English, but after hearing you preach, I have to say: you speak English very, very well!”

But the biggest culture shock — the hardest transition was the youth ministry aspect.

The way we Koreans did youth ministry and the way the average Anglo UM churches do ministry are as different as night and day. And, for the life of me, I could not figure out how to meet the kids in some form of middle ground.

I tried. I felt like I came up short. I got frustrated. Tried new things. Reread and read all sorts of books on youth ministry. But, nothing was working. At the end of the day, I had to assume the problem was me. I just could not adapt to what the kids were used to. Nor could I have them meet me half way from what I as accustomed to. Also, a huge part of me was worried that if I were to adapt completely to how the anglo churches in the Cal-Pac did youth ministry, I would lose a big part of my identity as a pastor, as a Christian, and as a person.

But I loved those kids. They were great. They were fun. We had a great time hanging out. But, at that time, I felt that I was called to do more than just hang out and have fun. I was getting tired of silly and messy games. I was getting tired of lock-ins. Surely, there was more to my calling than playing a game of Hide and Seek at 3 in the morning in pitch black darkness even though it was pretty epic.

Then I got a call from a DS saying that I was moving. Which meant a new church. Which meant a new opportunity; a new job. Which I thought meant, “I can try something out of youth ministry.” Only, the Cabinet sent me to another Anglo church as the associate pastor with heavy emphasis on youth.

Apparently, God must’ve thought I had unfinished business with youth ministry when I thought I was done. But I figured, there must be a reason for this appointment. And I tried to make the best of it. I tried to learn from the mistakes from the previous appointment. I had learned through District and Conference gatherings that our conference, when it comes to youth, emphasized the importance of relationships with one another.

You see, in the Korean context, the emphasis is on the youth’s relationship with God. That’s why the retreats are intense. That’s why there are weekly prayer meetings. That’s why on Friday nights, instead of fellowship, the focus is on bible study and worship.

That insight helped a little.

And I loved that church. I loved the staff. I loved the kids. They were great. But something deep within me nagged at me — because I (still) wasn’t making the connections I was accustomed to making in youth ministry.

Though it was hard, I had to admit that I wasn’t the best fit for this church, when it came to youth ministry. Or maybe, I just wasn’t the best fit for any youth ministry.

It was a complete detour from just few years earlier, when I was telling my dad I was going to do youth ministry for the rest of my life.

Please don’t get me wrong. I am tremendously grateful for both experiences and both churches. They embraced me. They loved me. They were patient with me as I was trying to figure things out.

But, I don’t think I ever figured things out. I don’t think I was as “successful” as I hoped to be (or desired to be) in both settings.

And I’m thankful that both churches are doing well today — that I didn’t mess up so bad as to cripple them or set them back decades. I just wish I could’ve done… better… more.

When I was in Hawaii last week, I got a chance to preach for the youth at my old church. Most of the kids I worked with were now in college. That means this was a whole new batch of kids that I didn’t know. I thought I had prepared a good sermon for the youth ministry.

When I got up to preach, I saw all these young sets of eyes staring at me.

As I met their gaze, I said to myself, “Uh oh. This sermon might not be the best in this context.”

And it wasn’t. The college kids who helped with youth ministry understood the message (at least that’s what they told me). But, I think for most of the youth kids, I spoke over their heads using “Punahou” words as the student formerly known as Intern Dae shared. Meaning, I used words that the kids would never use on a daily basis. And not just because they’re Hawaii kids…

It’s funny how sure and solid we think our plans for our future may be. 8 years ago, I would’ve never imagined feeling like this towards youth ministry. 8 years ago, I wouldn’t have pictured myself being a pastor to adults, let alone, serving an Anglo church.

But that’s the thing. God’s in control, not me. And life is much, much easier when I accept that instead of trying to fight with God and hold tightly to future plans that may not work out the best for me. Life is easier when we trust in God and God’s plans. For God’s plans are for peace, not disaster, to give us a future filled with hope.

So may we trust in The Lord with all our heart, not relying solely on our intelligence or our own abilities to get by.

May we know him in all our paths, for God will keep our ways straight!