A Shining Jewel
ComfortThis life in Korea was something that was stolen from me. Something that I will never know- and even if I tried hard enough, I would risk loosing all that I have been given by a God who found me and had mercy on me and gave me everything and more then what that culture could provide. Or is that what I was made to believe to benefit another? Yet, I had to throw it all back in God’s face and ask this silly second best. After I get the milk and honey=America the land of privilege? Did I have to work for all that I was given? No, hardly. It was handed to me on a silver platter- I was at the mercy of death, abandoned. With no one wanting me. And yet I was found a home and a very decent life to live…according to standards with in a culture that I didn’t choose. So then why does my heart yearn for something that may not have been the best for me? And how dare I even go there? So, I fight the urge to want to understand this part of me that is denied- this part of me that was abandoned because I rationalize it in my head over and over. I say, “Come on- you don’t REALLY need this. You never did so why now?”
Oh..but how real it was to me when I was there. How in my face it was when I woke up, saw the people, and rode the subway and shared a meal. Was I just being immature? Was I being silly like all those other Korean adoptees that talk smack about having an identity crisis all their life? Was I just seeing things? I spent my whole life in the states, assimilating to what it meant to be a white, Christian American. With rewards as high as the sky—while building (unconsciously) a wall to protect me from this very thing. So, was it God who knew my most inner thoughts and said, “Daughter, you must work and live here- in America, all these years of your life so I can protect you from this one moment?” I have heard stories about how birth mothers come back and just wreak havoc on the adoptee. God may have had to protect me and keep me naive to these things – in doing so, he allowed me to become so entangled with every part of my being- physical, spiritual, emotional here- in the states, that when I return to Korea, I have no choice but to return back to the life he gave because I will be torn in half if I choose to stay and explore this forbidden right. So now, I see why I was brought here, to a little town of Holland, where I yet again condemned those ways that seemed so traditional and routine and so stable. It was exactly what I needed to cement me. Because I wonder just how free spirited I really am in the right environment. Like an alcoholic waiting to be discovered in their first sip, someone that is predisposed to a weakness inherent with in. What the heck would I do out there? What kind of life would I live? It is nothing compared to here. My drive would be completely different; my views would be tainted because I would fight the urge to be an independent woman as I’ve always infused it in my blood. Would I die for a change or to lead a change because I know no better and be like a fish out of water? Is that how those leaders in life who die for their causes feel everyday?
A man stopped me in the subway station while I waited for some acquaintances. He asked me if I wanted to go to bible study- and whether I went to church there. I wasn’t sure if this was a pick up line or God’s way of reminding me who I was to be at all times. I laughed and said I am from the United States, I don’t go to church here and thank you for the offer but I would like to keep in touch. He seemed to misunderstand me, with his broken English and my non-existent Korean. I was about to go off and be a “part” of this culture for a minute when in reality I should have been more like the man witnessing to others. Korean men do not approach women very often so I took his email address and hoped to explain when I got home. I found out that he was part of a church that is all over and I gave him our church website address for future references. He said he was praying for me and I haven’t seen him on line since.
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