Saturday, August 13, 2011

The Experience of Isaac (Part 1)

There is a reason why the title is called the experience of Isaac -- It's not two different stories, but one story of two different people. In the bible, Isaac was Abraham's son who enjoyed all the blessings that were brought through all the trouble Abraham went through. I feel like that's been my experience. Anyhow, enjoy--
This is where I come in the story. Or, I have already, but I haven't really talked about it yet. I was born in Seoul, Korea, May 5th, 1991. May 5th in the States is Cinco de Mayo. May 5th in Korea is National Children's Day. So every birthday I used to go to the National Children's Park. Anyhow, I never really had much of a memory till I was like 5 years old. But here's what my parents tell me --
I was born as a pretty healthy baby. They say that my first few months as a baby was pretty good. It wasn't much later when I began to have problems. I had digestion problems in my stomach, and I wasn't able to get any food into my system. I was taken to the hospital but they couldn't figure out what was wrong with me. They said I didn't have much of a chance.
It was somewhere around this time that my dad started to have his spiritual turn (one described in the previous blog) as well. That plus my health caused him to really seek God in a genuine way. I don't mean to recall this next part as a way to boast myself in any way, but I do have a real appreciation for it. Let me recount it first -- When it was coming close to the point that I was not able to make it, my parents began to pray even more desperately. Eventually, they had no choice but to offer my life to the Lord, consecrating my future just as Hannah promised God to offer Samuel to serve Him. Anyhow, I don't say this to puff myself up in anyway; rather, I have to acknowledge my parent's faithfulness to what I am now in the present. Without such a consecration made by my parents, I don't think I would be the person I am now.
Not too long after, my health began to recover dramatically. I remember my mom saying that my grandma brought some boiled (mu). I don't know what it's called in English, but it's a kind of a white radish that koreans use to make kimchi. Anyhow, maybe that's why I love bone soup with mu so much. Haha. Let's get back to the topic. That supposedly really help me get my digestion back... but you know how Koreans say that every vegetable is good for something..
I remember always feeling a little weak growing up. There are many memorable events during my childhood in Korea. But let me just tell you a few of the interesting stories I have. For the majority of the time, I lived in the Guk-Hwa apartments which was in a part of Seoul called Mun-Rae Dong. In front of the apartments there was a brick wall, of which over it, was my bus stop. I remember how my mom always used to lift me up over the brick wall so that I would catch my bus on time. I went around various kindergatens, which listing them will probably bore you. In one of them, I got in a fight with one of my classmates for something I can't remember.. it was either over a girl or for a toy. Anyhow, I remember we were in fighting stance and right then and there this thought came into mind that I should do a cartwheel, and on the way up, I would kick him on the face. So I did it and successfully kicked my classmate on the face. He started crying and immediately the teacher came over. He didn't hit me, but I felt so bad when my teacher rebuked me of what I had done wrong that I started crying as well. Anyhow, after we finished crying we became really close friends.. Haha.. Hmm.. what else is an interesting thing that happened to me in Korea? I remember one winter day I was coming back home in the bus and it had snowed. Some snow had fallen inside the open windows on the bus and one very small piece landed right on my finger. As it started melting and getting smaller by the warmth of my finger, I remembering seeing a perfect snowflake within a fraction of a second. Its six legs were very clear to my eyes. Oh, and in this one time, a friend of mine who used to live in the same apartment got some fart bombs from the store. We were fooling around in the parking lot looking where we should plant it. We decided to throw it into a curb that had some plants. As soon as he threw it and we began to ran, we didn't see this car that was coming right at us. I was running behind my friend, and my friend barely missed the car, but got his foot rolled over by the tire of the car. Now that I think about it, that's pretty hilarious. It was that same friend that took me to another friend's house where we stayed hours playing video games. I came home that afternoon later than usual and found my mom fuming with anger. She was very upset that I had not told her where I was and for being home very late. That was my first memory of getting punished by my mom.
Well, I can go on and on with snippets of stories here and there. But let's forward to December 25th of 1997. I was seven at the time, so I was pretty well aware of my surroundings. I remember it was Sunday right after service, my mom, sister and I were walking back home. There was no sign of snow anywhere and the sky was bright and sunny. It was that day that I came to the conclusion that Santa did not exist, because his reindeers were no where to be found in such a sunny day. Umm.. that has nothing to do with what I was about to write, but I thought it was pretty darn interesting. Anyhow, it was that same day that we boarded the plane to Chile...

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