A moment of silence

Quite a bit of joy and tragedy has transpired since my departure from the States. Tonight I feel absolutely useless in Korea. I desperately want to be home for five hours to give everyone I know and love a big hug. Even my "sandpaper lady" of a professor from my graduate studies. Thanks for the term, Dad!
Through God's mysterious hand, I learned of a horrific tragedy surrouding the family member of one of my old co-workers. I did not know the person well, but the news really struck me. I knew her mom well. I wanted to help out SOMEHOW. Do SOMETHING. Distance of volcanoes, seaweed, and rocks does not allow me to do anything except call, email, think, cry, and pray. That's it. Sometimes the thought of distance feels pretty daunting.

Once again, as Miss Richfield 1981 so eloquently says, "Jesus always wins." He brought comfort and connection today. After discovering some horrible news, my heart just ached for my old school. I talked to my department head about the writing conference we had attended together in Seoul, when the tears started flowing. She held my hand, prayed with me, and told me a story about losing her two sisters in a car accident when she was twelve. On the day of her sister's wedding! I was astounded how much tragedy her family had experienced. Yet, she talked of the hope God brings. I looked at her in disbelief over her calm demeanour, but her sincerity was intoxicating. I couldn't help but hang onto her every word about hope.

I took a moment of silence to think about what she said. It followed me the rest of the day. I felt like the wailing, sensitive sister from the novel, "The Secret Life of Bees". Tonight, I wanted to set up my own wailing wall on my 9th floor apartment, put all of the grievances and burdens of everyone I know on little scrolls of paper, firmly shove them into the cracks, and just wail for all the pain in the world. A little ambitious and ridiculous, but the thought made me feel better. Especially at the thought that someone has already taken on all that. Miss Richfield 1981 was right once again.