Sharon’s Story

I was born in 1971 in Seoul, Korea into a normal, loving family. But my normal childhood ended when my mom passed away from a sudden heart attack when I was nine years old. I still remember how my personality changed shortly after my mom’s death. I didn’t want to be weak and receive sympathy from others just because I didn’t have a mother, so I began to act as if I were a strong, tough person who is not affected by anything in this world.

To make things worse, my father was diagnosed with depression and schizophrenia. He was working as a high school teacher but had to quit his job and stay home. Everyday as I came home from school, I was nervous and scared because I wasn’t sure how my dad would be doing that day. Mostly, he was in the bedroom sleeping, reading the newspaper, or walking around the house, smoking. But sometimes he would be talking and rambling on by himself so fast, and it was really scary to see him like that. The doctor told us that he needs to take medications every night in order for him to sleep and become stable. So every night my older sister and I would urge and beg my father to take the medications but on most nights, he would refuse us saying that he was okay and didn’t need the medications. On those nights, my sister and I would go to sleep feeling scared because it meant that he would be pacing back and forth in his room all night, talking to himself loudly or going outside in the middle of the night. On rare occasions, he would reluctantly take the medications and we would be so happy and relieved, thinking that he would be getting some sleep. But we felt so sad and helpless when we found a large pile of pills right outside his bedroom window after a few months. Evidently, he had pretended to take the pills in his mouth and but had spit them out once we left the room.

I remember one night. I woke up to a noise in the kitchen to find my father sharpening a knife. He was talking to himself saying that he’s going to kill someone. I felt so scared and helpless. I didn’t know what to do. Should I call the police? Should I call my relatives? He left the house with the knife in his coat. I remember sitting in the dark feeling so helpless. I didn’t know who God was but with no one to turn to, I silently cried out to God. “God, please help me.” Thankfully, nothing happened that night and my dad came home in the morning, looking very tired. My childhood was filled with nights like this one.

His mental illness continued on over the years and I had complex emotions. I pitied him and at the same time, I was ashamed of him. I felt insecure and helpless about life. I remember feeling intense sadness whenever I saw children being loved and cared for by the parents.

My family immigrated to America when I was 12 years old and by the generosity of my uncle, we stayed with his family for 3.5 years. My father tried hard to get various types of jobs, but due to his illness, he was unemployed most of the time. So we were very thankful that my uncle was allowing us to live with him. But as the time went on, it was becoming very difficult to live together. I knew that I was supposed to be thankful but felt rather bad knowing that we were a big burden for them. The feeling that “I’m not welcome here” became a firm belief in my heart.

With this background, I came to our church when I came to Cal as a transfer student in 1991. At the end of my first Sunday worship service in the Korean dept, I remember being moved to tears thinking “Maybe… I’ll find my hope here.” I was serious about Christianity before coming to our church but thought that the Bible was too unrealistic for people to live by. But as I saw the people at this church, I felt something very genuine about their faith and began to see that the Bible can indeed be lived out. After one semester, I was convicted of the truth of the gospel through Psalm 1 and I committed my life to Christ. There was so much joy and peace knowing that I have become a precious child of God. I remember really treasuring this new identity in God.

However, after a couple of years, I felt spiritually stuck. I was still firmly convicted about the truth but I felt very helpless when everyone talked about relationships in Christ. As people gave testimonies about how they experienced God’s love through their leaders and how they came to trust them, I noticed that I didn’t experience anything like that. I felt very envious of people who were able to share honestly with their leaders and depend on them. I was non-communicative, non-relational, strong and independent. Instead of feeling grateful for the love my leaders have shown me, I felt burdened and uncomfortable. I felt similarly toward God. No matter how hard I tried to pray, read the Bible and do whatever I was supposed to do, I couldn’t get rid of this guilt that I felt inside. I felt guilty because I knew I wasn’t motivated by love. I was filled with people-consciousness, envy and self-pity. Five years have passed since I came to our church. I knew a lot of things in my head but there was no change deep inside my heart. The more I tried to read the Bible, pray and repent, I felt more helpless. I felt that I would never be humble enough or desperate enough to experience God’s love. I tried hard to see myself as a sinner but I didn’t know how this related to God. People said that when you see that you’re a sinner, you can experience God’s love and forgiveness. But rather than experiencing God’s love, I experienced more self-contempt and helplessness. I began to fall deep into depression. I felt very helpless because somehow, this one hope I had, the truth, wasn’t working out for me.

I had an intense desire to give up and leave church. Surely, there must be another way to believe in God than just “seeing your sinfulness.” But I couldn’t really seriously consider leaving church for two reasons. First, no matter how I hated the word “relationship,” I knew that my problem with low self-esteem and lack of motivation for life had something to do with it. Second, I knew that it was God who led me to this church. And He wasn’t giving me any conviction that I should leave church. So there was no way out. Jesus promised that the truth will set you free but somehow, I felt so suffocated by the truth. The cross seemed like a sharp knife God presses against my throat, silently accusing and telling me how I owe my life to Him.

I became so tired and wanted to give up struggling. So I did give up trying to repent and change. But one thing I continued to do was daily Quiet Time. I stopped answering the “What am I like” section. But I kept on reading the Bible. One morning, I was really intrigued by the scene in Genesis 2:19. “Now the LORD God had formed out of the ground all the beasts of the field and all the birds of the air. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them…” Here was God bringing the animals one by one to Adam to see what he would name them. Why was God interested in this? Here was God looking at Adam just interested in seeing how Adam would name each animal. I felt like I had a glimpse of God when He wasn’t looking at me. This picture didn’t fit the two views of God that I had. One image was a God who was filled with wrath, so disgusted with me that he was ready to pour out his anger. Another was a grandfather figure who always just smiled and forgave everything saying “everything is okay.” These two views were flat views of God that I had, but this God I saw in the Genesis was like a regular person who had a genuine interest and emotions that I can relate to. I imagined a parent beaming with pride as Adam named each animal. Somehow, I was drawn to this non-dramatic scene. Who is this God?

At one prayer meeting I saw my leader Seonhea crouched in a corner of the sanctuary, praying. I had been with her for the past five years. With my depression, I always made my small group’s atmosphere dark and gloomy. I was without life and I knew I was a stumbling block to everyone. But she never kicked me out. She never told me not to come to the meetings. On the contrary, she was always inviting me, wanting me to hear God’s for the nth time, even though I haven’t changed at all. As I saw her that night, I began to think about why she kept on hoping for me even though I’m such a hopeless case. Why would she choose to keep on hoping and keep on praying?

A couple of months after the wedding, I told my husband “I’m sick and tired of going to the Bible studies. I’ve been going for years now and I haven’t changed at all. I don’t see any point.” Chul didn’t say anything that night. He was just tossing and turning, unable to sleep. He was groaning and was visibly suffering inside. Why was he like that that night?

These questions kept ringing in my ears. One morning I was confronted with the passage about the cross. Isaiah 53:7 “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.”

Silence… I thought about Jesus walking up the hill of Golgotha with the heavy cross. This time, I was the one with the knife. All these years of trying to experience God’s love… I heard what I was really saying to Jesus for the first time underneath all those efforts. I was demanding Jesus to pay back for all the wrongs in my life. My despair, hopelessness, meaninglessness, brokenness, wounds and loneliness. My awkwardness, insecurity and inability to relate to people. I had the knife pressed against his neck, demanding that he does something about all the wrongs in my life. I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that I was doing that to God. But that was the truth. I was never interested in knowing who God was apart from what He can do for me and was depressed and bitter that He didn’t deliver me the peace and freedom that I wanted. I was never interested in God. It was all about me wanting love from God and wanting people’s approval. As I admitted all my sins, one by one, I came to understand God’s tenacious, always hoping, love for me that caused Jesus to walk on that silent walk to the cross, silently absorbing all the pain I have caused him. Jesus has melted my heart with His cross.

Galatians 6:14 “May I never boast except in the cross of our LORD Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me and I to the world.”