Tuesday, February 3, 2015

February 1, 2015 - Srikorican

Once upon a time there was this girl who decided that was the lamest way to start a story so she decided to start over.
It was a dark and stormy night.
The weather here is perfect and I've gotta get a name as an author first before I try to pull that one off. How bout four score and seven... Alright, alright. So I haven't been in Korea THAT long.
There and back again....? Nope. Sorry Bilbo. This hobbit ain't back yet! It looks like all that's left is the classic: 
"And it came to pass..."
Never heard that one before, have you? Hah. Yeah...
This tale of mine, though not to be written in scriptural verse form (sorry if you were getting your hopes up), is writing itself with every slammed door, heartfelt prayer, kind gesture, weird dream, new food, and small miracle, is a happy one. Only the happiest. There are chapters in everyone's life that the author wishes never had to be written. There are chapters where the author had a little too much ketchup on his hotdog when he went back to proofread and now that little spot of red has left a few pages stuck together and skipped over in the reading of the story. There are plot twists, protagonists, antagonists, boring parts and climax's. And then there are those chapters that are full of new discoveries, challenges, and a whole heck of a lot of character development. I'm about two thirds of the way through that chapter of my life and I just can't put the book down. 
I just came upon a part where the protagonist of the story found herself in a rusty old blue truck, being meandered cautiously through the Korean mountainside by two thin skinned bony hands at the wheel. As she stared out the window smiling and wondering to herself which of the two would kick the bucket first, her beauitful Sri Lankan side kick rested her head on her shoulder.
 If you're wondering how the two found themselves out there, just know that it was a whole lot of miracles and kind Korean people giving the two hopeless foreigners directions. As for the man, and his sweet wife, they were members of the church that we felt prompted to visit, though they lived quite a small journey away. A journey that was worth every second. It was one of those moments where I could "Amen" to when Elder Jeffrey R. Holland said "Indeed heaven never seems closer than when we see the love of God manifested in the kindness and devotion of people so good that angelic is the only word that comes to mind."
I love missionary work.
It's hard and sometimes you try to make soup Korean soup but then realize you're not Korean and try to add a little American, Sri Lankan spice to it throwing whatever is in the fridge into a pot making some sort of Srikorican confection that you try to swallow down between fits of laughter.
And sometimes people punch the door scaring the bageebees out of you and your companion.
And sometimes you look out over the city and count sixteen glowing red crosses wondering how two sister missionaries can make a difference.
And then there's those times where you get to meet people like that old couple, like Sister Wijetunge, like Nicole, Imma, 박경미, and 홍정은, and you get to go with them on their journey to come closer to Christ and you realize there is no where you'd rather be.
Thanks for all your prayers and love. As always, I send mine your way. I love you I love you I love you.
Sister McCloskey
P.S. Dinner with Imma and her friend from Rwanda. I love how much the African people love to laugh. So much fun... And some stairs.

A picture I drew. Hah. I hope you have a sense of humor! :)

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