YANGPYEONG JOURNAL | WEEK 4

April 28 Entry

Today was yet another gift, an unexpected one at that. My wife has likened our time in Yangpyeong to a treasure hunt. Today we discover some treasure. . . A dear couple visited us today. In our past visits to Korea, they had opened their home and their hearts to us on multiple occasions. I first met the husband back in 1994 as mission mobilizers. He was a mobilizer working with students in Korea and I in the US. We somehow kept in touch, and over the years, he invited me to speak at his organization multiple times. He served as the head of his organization in Korea. Our wives naturally got grafted on to our growing friendship. So, this was no ordinary couple. 

It so happened that their son-in-law’s mother currently serves as the director at Korean National Center for Forest Therapy in Yangpyeong. She invited them along with us to the center, which is funded and run by the Korean government. The name of the center intrigued both my wife and me. After a fine roadside tofu stew lunch, we were given a tour of the center and experienced the forest therapy, including meditating lying down in a forest and slow methodical barefoot walking on ochre soil for some 50 meters. 

The last portion of the program involved walking down to a coffee roastery at a village right next to the Forest Therapy Center (which used to be a gold mining region a long time ago). I assumed it would be some sort of a commercial café attached to a roastery. As I got nearer, my eyes got wider because what I saw did not match what I had imagined. Life can be full of surprises and wonder. With my peaked curiosity, all my senses were heightened and locked in. The roastery turned out to be a country home that sits on a sloping valley surrounded by lazy gentle mountains with more than 70,000 square feet garden of trees, plants, and flowers. 

What greeted us was the small statue of a whimsical boy Jesus, given to the host by Catholic nuns nearby, welcoming everyone with open arms. Very fitting, I felt, because that was exactly what I felt the moment I saw the house and the garden. The host told us this valley is where “time stands still” and that she is invited to savor the present presence and every competing distraction blows away. She served us her own roasted and brewed coffee with holy awe and perfection. How she handled the coffee ground and the hand dripping, prepared the cups by warming them, how she poured, etc seemed to be all part of the seamless ritual that has been performed many times. I have been served coffee countless times. This was close to being a deeply religious and devout ceremony. I was humbled by how she served the coffee and had the inner urge to imitate her if I can. The coffee itself was amazing as well. The name of the coffee roasting company, Jehovah Jireh, translates as “the Lord will provide or see,” based on Genesis 22:14. 

I asked the host if she could give us a short tour of the garden. I was glad I asked since she came alive and guided us on a 30-minute tour. She could have easily gone for another 2 hours. . . This was a special garden not because it was impeccable, well organized, or professionally groomed and manicured. She knew that she was not a professional gardener. It was special because the host knew every square inch of the garden. She had a tender and intimate story for almost every single living thing in her garden, where it is from, how it has grown, what she had to do to tend, etc. She might as well have a name for every single plant and tree, I thought. It became so apparent how she showed respect and affection for each living thing including baby salamanders and tadpoles. I felt that her affection and care translated into reverent worship for God’s creation and thus God. At one point, she stopped at a small tree where two or three major branches were vibrant and growing while the other two branches died due to extreme cold. What she said while gently caressing the tree shocked me. “I felt pain when I knew that these two branches died.” She followed her statement by saying, “What can I do except to accept?” with a slight smile on her face. Acceptance was not a nonchalant and uncaring kind, but identification with the pain. The tree embodies both life and death. Precisely because of two dead branches, the other three branches can be more vibrant, benefitting from more nutrients. 

What is dead is not dead. What is alive is not alive. Life and death are a cyclical process forever intertwined blurring the lines between what is truly alive and what is truly dead until death is no more. In some mysterious ways, both life and death are more illusions than reality. There will come a day when death is no more. Somehow, there will be life that is a full pristine reality with nothing else. However, until then, death can be a teacher for living and living well. The host when asked by my wife, “Have you ever regretted moving from Seoul and being here?” responded, “When I wake up in the morning, I move my hands and feet and I have a thankful heart because I can move and go about another new day. I go as far as I can go every day. I have learned when to stop.” I sat at another master’s feet today. In the back of my mind all the while wondering what treasure God is trying to highlight to me . . .