So, I’m in the process of trying to see if I can phase out carrying around my laptop everywhere I go and try to do a bulk of my work (sermon writing, blogging, etc) on my iPad. After reading and researching blogging apps for the iPad, I finally decided to fork over 5 bucks and purchase blogsy. Yesterday, I tried blogging straight on the wordpress site and it ended with me losing the entire post. The wordpress app, though free, had horrible reviews, so I’m hoping that blogging with blogsy on my iPad will be easy and convenient. (I know, first world problems…)
I just also want to say that my dad is perfectly fine and is healthy and strong. I didn’t want people to start thinking something happened to my dad or anything like that, as I reminisce on the affects he had/has on me. Like I said, I wanted to test out blogging purely from the iPad yesterday and that frog story jumped out in my head. Same reason today.
I also want to remind you that we’re from a different culture–a culture where disciplining your children was expected and a sign of good parenting. There was a Korean saying that stated “Give the kids you hate candy and the kids you love the rod.” I’m always hesitant sharing stories about the ways (often creative ways) my dad disciplined me to my white friends, because more often than not, the stories are met with awkward laughter. I think they feel obligated to laugh because I’m telling it in a humorous way. But often they’ll respond with, “Your dad really did that to you?” And instantly, I regret telling them the story, because that was NOT the reaction I was looking for.
But amongst my Korean friends, we exchange stories of our being disciplined. “Your dad did that? That ain’t nothing! Let me tell you what my dad did” and back and forth we go, laughing to hide our deep pain. I’m totally kidding about the last part.
Anyway, I once got into real big trouble. I can’t remember how old I was, but I was fairly young. I had done something bad and gotten into trouble for it, but not big enough trouble to get a spanking. As my parents were using their stern voice on me, it started to rain. And my dad says, “See? You made God cry. So don’t do that again.”
I can’t tell you how I reacted to that piece of information. But I’m pretty sure, whatever it is I did, I never did it again. At least, not where my parents could find out…
I also remember when I was young, we were at the beach listening to the waves and my dad turns to me and says, “That’s the sound of God breathing…”
Looking back on my childhood, I really had no chance to escape from ministry…