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    Poems Read at Synod School

    Fish When they got there, they found breakfast waiting for them—fish cooking over a charcoal fire, and some bread. – John 21:9 Peter dives into the icy morning waters of Galilee,his broad sunburned chest so full of regret,he could not get to the shore fast enough. The ashen sky giving way to blue,when he finally reaches the shore,the sea weighing on his shirt and beard. Peter wipes the salt off his eyes and walksto the small fire waiting for himand when he sits he cannot remember  the words he rehearsed if given the chanceto set things right. How does one beginmaking amends with a friend you denied? He hears the…

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    Singing “Everyone’s Lonely” with my Korean Immigrant Mother

    At this past Louisville Waterfront Wednesday concert (sponsored by WFPK, a Louisville Free Public Media radio station on 6/26/2019 ), I experienced several firsts. A first: My wife performed live with a Rock band! This happened, as these things go, because she happened upon the right group of people—joined Louisville Civic Orchestra as 2nd violinist a year ago—who happened to have the right connection: the conductor, Jason Hart Raff, who happened to meet the lead singer of Jukebox the Ghost, Ben Thornewill, at a children’s party where they shared their childhood dream of putting together an orchestra and a rock band. That serendipitous spark took two years of conversation and hard…

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    Expecting (Poem)

    For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. – Romans 8:22 My wife has been in labor for 20 hours but the boy’s not ready for his revealing What’s he waiting for? I shuffle back and forth, from my wife’s bedside to the waiting room, where both mothers are wondering if they should stay put or run some quick errands, they ask, What time does the doctor say? I say, Anytime. A n y     t i m e         k e e p s             s t r e t c h i n g. Earthquakes of the womb…

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    On The Passing Away of My Grandmother on 6/9/2016, A Fierce Saint

    We would like our saints to be pristine. But there are no faultless saints. Often, their virtue is their vice, just turned towards God, a weakness lit in God’s generous light and it suddenly becomes strength. In this way, all saints point to God and give us hope that we too can be counted a saint. My grandmother, Won Song-Jeol, was a fierce woman. To those who saw her taking Q27 bus at Main Street of Flushing NY, she was a frail old women needing help getting up the stairs. To those who saw her at church, she was a caring elder with her tall slim body, child-like smile and kind…