From my ten story apartment, I can see all of Seoul...well...at least the part of Seoul you can see from a ten story apartment facing one direction. The vast array of buildings lay beautifully thrown into a grotesque garden; each building a flower. The designer of the buildings, unlike the designer of flowers, had not beauty in mind but rather function when his erections were manifested. The function obviously people, the people obviously living. As I come to a close on the last inhale of my cigarette, I stare at all the lights, as my blind is unable to perform its job at keep out the blinking neon, like a security guard trying to contain a Bieber mob.
In the distance, red crosses held high up in the sky; like a pope holding the rosary high above his head demanding penance. These crosses, perhaps a banner for weary souls, signify the many 'Christian' churches laid out about the city.
I change posture at my desk in the dark, drinking lukewarm, unfiltered tap-water from my sink, connected to the unfiltered city water supply, that not even the Koreans drink. I'm not Korean. Ten stories below and 200 yards away I see a hungry, small, maneless lion prowling the allies looking for its pride; however, it hunts alone. Fighting to stay alive in a city that doesn't love it, care for it, or even see it.
My mind wanders like a vagabond to the lonely prostitutes giving hour after hour of unrequited sexual pleasure to the most needy of adulterous men leaving their wives who are fending for themselves, lonely at home, craving loyalty, looking after the kids that they both chose to bring into this polluted hell.
I'm blessed to not be a prostitute. In front of me lies the future dreamers of the Korean world. Behind me the grotesque actions of people taking after the buildings they live in. Where is the hope, I wonder. What do women hope in as they endlessly give their bodies and soul to the lustful cravings of impotent, adulterous men? How long does it take to realize that the hope you put in riches is empty, like the tomb Jesus was laid in?
Christianity calls for action and I, one of the soldiers in the war, am looking for the good fight. If you don't look at life as a war you're the person I'm fighting for.
From my limited, perched perspective, I still see all of Seoul. A tiny America struggling to keep its honor in the wake of MTV and the next generation. My belly is hungry for more food; a rumbling that Ramen noodles hasn't been able to quench. My clock reads 0152 hrs in the neon red that every person in the modern world has grown boringly accustomed to depending on. I know not how and I know not when (At this late hour it's hard to think) but somehow I'm going to help the women that don't wish to be prostitutes come to a life of hope, not in money, but in the good news of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
This Sunday I make my way to Hooker Hill. That's where they are. That's where I'm going to be.
On the eve of my first payday I'm excited at the prospect of being able to help people like I've never been able to before. love. war.
"In everything, therefore, treat people the same way you want them to treat you, because this summarizes the Law and the Prophets." Matthew 7:12
Things to think about:
-You believe in the emotional more than the spiritual
-Why does the White House look the same on two separate sides?
-If I love networking what is a job I can do?
Things to listen to:
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1 comment:
this is really funny. you should be a professional blogger. if that is a real job.
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