Journal Entry Christmas 2014

Christmas had bright promise - all seven of us children at home with all the grandkids and a full house... three exchange students (one of my own and two of my moms) and my sister-in-laws sister. 22 People would gather for Christmas dinner and 18 of us would share the home for 10 days. It sounded lovely. Games happening in one room and if you don't want to join in a movie is in another room or others cooking or cleaning in the kitchen to talk with. The home is stuffed full of love and laughter.

December 23rd we gathered around the tree to sing carols. Juyoung carried us with his beautiful voice. His mom had been an opera singer and she had passed on her clear beautiful voice to her sweet boy. On December 24th we had a church service and Juyoung sang - he was a pretty boy with confidence and kindness and he flirted with the audience and charmed us with his charisma, but when he sang, it was to God, in a way that stirred every heart. "He sounds like he is with the angels, bowing a knee to God Himself" my mom whispered.

My exchange girl, Ama, had a bit of a crush on him, especially after that, and she was excited about the Christmas gift she gave him, hoping he'd like it as we opened the piles of presents Christmas day, but too shy to ask.

December 27th Seth, my quiet tall eighteen year old brother, went with Juyoung to a church friends house. My older brother Justin had a butchery happening of 5 of his ducks. A stomach bug had been bouncing around the family and Caleb - my other brother - was helping him pluck ducks but feeling yucky still. Justin had been hit by a drunk driver months before. He still couldn't walk and it had been a long journey for him and my parents. So I volunteered to help. And thus I was dipping ducks in hot water, pulling feathers, waxing, and such unpleasentries.

I was in the kitchen re-heating wax  when my dad burst out of the office and told my mom "There has been an accident - car accident - I have to go"
"No no!" My mother screamed. "I can't hear this again!"

Justin's accident was a terrible one and I knew their hearts were still fragile. "Mom, lets not assume anything until we know more" I told her, trying to calm her. But soon my dad called back with a quick message, "It's bad Cindy. They're using the jaws of life."

The accident was only minutes from the house. Black ice. Seth's small car spun into the other lane in a moment and was hit by a two teen girls who had borrowed grandpa's big four door pick up truck. My dad was back in no time. He screamed in gut-wretching sobs. I've never heard my dad like that. "He didn't make it Cindy. Juyoung is dead!"
It was shock.
Seth was on his way to the hospital. Juyoungs bones were like powder. He had died instantly and my dad saw him before they had a chance to cover him up.
They left.

The phone started ringing.
One woman asked what she could do to help. I gave a wry answer and said "Can you tell me what to do with all these ducks?"
She said, "I've gutted chickens before. I'll come over and do the ducks. It's better than sitting on my butt here."
So she came and we cleaned up the mess and put it all away.

I suppose I felt what everyone feels - Why. How did this happen. What will happen next. My poor parents. His poor parents. Why God. It's so unfair. Poor Seth. And then repeat the thoughts over and over.

My parents were voicing their crazy thoughts on the way to the hospital too. How did it happen. Seth - why couldn't you be more careful!? Then they hit black ice and their van spun into the other lane and into a snowbank and they banged against another vehicle too. The other driver said "You're okay, I'm okay, our vehicles are both a little scratched but lets just go and not make a report out of this" so my dad was back driving again and this time they all knew just how it happened. Maybe God allowed it for a little more empathy towards Seth.

Mom flew in the helicopter with Seth to a bigger hospital. Cat scan was broken at the local one. My dad kept trying to get ahold of the parents in Korea. I told him that the exchange program could break the  news, that it wasn't all on his shoulders, but he couldn't deal with life until he could talk to them. Until that terrible moment to say to someone you've never met, "Thanks for entrusting your son to us this year. Now he is dead."
I ached for my parents.

Justin took everything so personally. Like the burden was his alone to bear. Maybe because he had just been in his own accident and was still physically broken. Maybe because his personality is so responsible driven. But he looked awful.

I answered phone calls. I tried to guess what the memorial service would be like and what would be needed. I tried to be my mother while she was away. I stressed about everything and tried to be calm because everyone in the house was so helpful and lovely that I didn't need to be snappy. My husband was wonderful. But Juyoungs things lay about the house as vivid reminders that he had just been with us. His bright yellow coat begged notice over it's chair.
The phone just ran and ran for the next few days. People brought food. And then Juyoung's parents arrived.

The first day they viewed their sons body. Mrs. Kim is a delicate lady as classy and regal as a queen. But at the casket she was hysterical in grief. Her screams moved her whole body has she jump and shook and wailed for a long while of agony. Her husband tried to keep her from falling, to hold her the best he could. I can only imagine that she, like David, was pouring her heart out to God with all of it's hurt and question and anger. At last she drew in a ragged breath. She knew the Lord. Her husband is a Korean pastor. And she said, "I have peace now." She had let it out and accepted the Lord as Master and was ready to walk forward with faith. That sentence seems wrong because it's so much more complex. But it was what happen. She laid it all on the alter before the Lord and came to the place where she could say as Job, "The Lord gives and takes away - blessed be the name of the Lord."
The next day wanted to see Seth. Justin has spent the night with him, haggard and weary and, like my dad, dreading the moment they would come but not able to deal with life until it happened. They brought Seth flowers and Mrs. Kim put her face to hers. "We don't blame you," she said. "Thank you for being a good brother to my son. And now I have no son. So I want you to be my son. I hope you will come to Korea and visit me."

And Justin broke. He crumpled to the bed weeping.
Seth, half drugged and not remembering a thing about the accident, just nodded. I don't think he knew how to process everything. It may take a long while. But that was the moment that a great burden was lifted for Justin - that moment where Grace was given.That moment where Christianity was raw and real in the purest form. Love washing out any chance of bitterness. Grace outshining any hate. Kindness was the law of her tongue, this virtuous woman.

I set my sisters to work putting his things all together for the parents to go through. And they found a few pages of homework journalism. There weren't many, but the ones he had were intended for this time. I marveled at God arranging those.
He had good things to say about his experience in the USA:

I stay in Brimley 3 weeks. This is my resultabout Brimley. First, host family, I love host family, and brother SethKnepper, he is good teacher to me. Second, school. I like this school. I can’t judge students [yet]. But I think usually good students. I like American school, Brimley High School.
Sometime I ride a bicycle in Brimley with beautiful background. But I waiting Novemberbasketball practice.
Anyway, I like Brimley, so I need more friends, basketball practice, and a goal.

Jooyoung met his hopes of having friends (everyone loved him), and enjoying basketball. But God never gave him a goal. The day before he died, I talked with him about coming to Peoria in April. I asked him if there was anything he wanted to do or see at my house (since it’s a huge city compared to Brimley). And Jooyoung said, “No, I don’t need to do or see anything else. I’m satisfied with everything.” It was as if he knew that his purpose here was complete. In his journal he wrote: I stay in USA, that is my challenge, (to learn English). However, that is just challenge, that is not dream. So everyday I have a inner empty. Just I said, “I’ll be good at English,” [but] there is not a goal. During I writing this journal, I think about my goal. But I can’t solve this question.

Most importantly though was an assignment to write about who changed your life. And he wrote about Jesus. Because God knew that we all would need to read these words.
Before I met Lord Jesus I’m just a student. Everyday I just eat, play, study, and sleep. I’m worried about everyday. Because rising sun is mean coming out Death. So when I thought about death I got scary. And I don’t know about I live for what. During the evening I play with my friends and got a happy, but on the night I got a profound thought (about death). But after met Lord Jesus everything is changed.
Every morning I meet the new future. And don’t worry about death, but not at all. Thank you for giving me a lot -sunshine, family, friends, food, and my life. If Jesus didn’t gave life to me, I can’t know my family and another people, that is most thank you for Jesus.
God even let him leave a goodbye:
I like basketball because when I play the basketball feel like in the heaven.
I like stay in Brimley. There’s fresh air, ground, and good people. Family and friends is important in my life. Thank you for my friends, because they give me good power.

The night after his death a woman who stopped by the house with a card for Seth and said that her estranged daughter was far from the Lord and had witnessed the car accident. The daughter knew Seth and was so shook up that she called up her mom. The woman (mom) hugged me and said, "I'm going over there right now. She said I could pray with her! It is so terrible what has happened - but I'm so grateful that God used it to soften my daughters heart and I will hope that He will do so many other works through this difficult time."

When I read the journal excerpts to my mother, Ama (my exchange student) was there, and when I finished she said, "For the first time I understand who Jesus is"

The memorial service took place at the High School.
Some ladies who occasionally buy goat milk from my mom took it upon themselves to arrange food. They read Korean custom of fruit and asked for donations and created a beautiful arrangement. The center table was had a long rustic box overflowing with flowers and then fruit arranged elegantly and full - enough fruit to feed a city it seemed - so fresh and classy.
There were evergreens at each table, and clothes, to transform a school cafeteria into something beautiful with a tone of the sacred.
The basket ball team gathered off to the side of the throng of people. I think the coach gave them a run-through of how he expected them to handle themselves at this time, that they would each give the parents condolences, with manners and decorum. That basketball team was shaking. They were passing around a ball to sign for him. For the rest of their games they would have an empty chair set out for him with his shirt sitting there.

My mother is good at letting people get involved however they would like to volunteer - appreciating and cultivating community like that. When someone offered to do a photo board, though she could have had someone in our family do it or done it herself, she accepted graciously. It's not about controlling things to ensure that it's done according to certain standards. It's about including. And trusting that each person will offer their own unique abilities. And everything turned out beautifully.
We stayed up into the night making wreaths - a korean custom instead of flower bouquets - and by making "fake" wreaths the family could take one home and the church could have a memory. They turned out pretty, and were on either side of the coffin.

When Juyoung's parents saw the picture board, the mom couldn't go any farther and was uncontrollable in her grief. It shook everyone to their core to hear her wails, and she went to the coffin.

I left to feed my baby, a good excuse because I simply didn't know what to do for those broken hearts. When I returned I was told that the school counselor and my family could not coax Ama (my exchange student) out of a locked bathroom stall. So I went in and saw that she was leaning against the door and I slid under the side of the stall to join her.
She was a too shocked to remember her fixed position on blocking everyone out. "Mother!" she told me, "Don't you know this is a public toilet with a disgusting floor?" To which I replied, "Yes, and aren't you ashamed of yourself for making your mother crawl on this disgusting floor? Now, what is the problem?"
She crumpled. "I think I can't control myself and I will cry and hold him his spirit back."
"Oh. Well. That must be a Mongolian tradition. In Korea they used to hire people to cry for funerals. Crying is very acceptable here. It shows that you care. Everyone will cry. So come on, lets go."
She blinked. "Really?"
I took her hand, "Really. Will you please open the door for me so I don't have to crawl on the gross floor again?"

So we joined the gathering - the bleachers were packed and the police officers and others were standing. We had chairs in the family section. I had brought Tristan and watched as he saw the Mrs. Kim crying softly and took a kleenex box over to her. She said a kind thank you to him and my heart ached to watch my sweet son while knowing her sweet son was no more.
My brother Caleb had been playing video clips before the service started and she kept asking for the one of him in the very gym where she now sat, where he proudly gave a tour of his beloved basketball court.

My father offered a beautiful service - reminding us all that Juyoung had found his identity in Christ, and had accepted the love of Christ and thus was able to give the love of Christ to those he came into contact with. Lastly, he had a hope, a blessed hope that made him unafraid of death, and that we too could know this hope and peace through Christ and that this hope is what makes us able to go on with life in confidence instead of despair.

There was a slideshow and a church group sang "Oh Holy Night" in memory of his last song. I played and realized that my mother could have done it despite not having time to practice with the group but that probably it was her way of letting me do what I could offer because she is good at that - inviting others to express themselves and do something in their own moments of hurting.
A high school native american girl sang "Amazing Grace" with a voice that amazed us all. She should be on TV instead of a tiny town in the bleak winter wilderness. She told my mom, "Thank you for asking me to sing for him, for this; I have never been so honored in my life."
And Mrs. Kim read this letter to her son,

Dear Juyoung, my beloved son:
The day you were departing to America, you chose to shake my hand instead of giving me a hug, for concern that I might cry. My thoughtful son.
Today, I'm following the same path you walked on. With a broken heart, I walked down the path which you walked with such excitement and hopeful dreams. Holding hands with your dad on the plane, we looked out of the window, and saw the beautiful clouds. While I was thought about where would you would be, you smiled for us from afar.

Because of you, a tacky mother like myself can now see the school you attended, the house you lived in, all of your friends, and everything that I was curious about your life here.
Yesterday, your dad and I recalled the memories of your childhood, They were all such precious memories. A 2 year old Juyoung who tucked his sister into her baby blanket when she was born, A 5 year old Juyoung who danced when music played on the streets, a 9 year old Juyoung who served breads, fruits, and drinks on a cute dish for his grandmother's friends, an 11 year old Juyoung who felt sympathy and compassion for a physically disabled man passing by on the street,  a 15 year old Juyoung who, with sweat pouring down, ran back to the house to bring a drink for a friend who forgot his lunch, an 18 year old Juyoung who was concerned about mom for spending too much money on phone bills while talking to him long distance on the phone a few days ago. You always comforted your mom with warm words. Thinking about you, my tearful eyes shortly turns into a smile. Our hearts became peaceful because we saw you in God's arm. However, I want to see you so much that my heart is torn apart. You were my source of pride, an awesome son by anyone's standards. Everybody was jealous of me. A happy mother now turned into a tragic woman.

A promise of cooking japchae for me when you come home, recipes you cooked for the first time in America. A promise of giving me a birthday present you bought and kept until the day you come home. A promise of giving me 2,000 dollars as a living expense when you start your own business in the future. You left without keeping any of these promises. What a horrible person you are.
For it would have been so much harder if you left while I was with you, you let me practice living without you for four months.
After spending the happiest moments here out of the 18 years of your life, you have gone to a place where of eternal happiness.
Thank you the family who fed him warm meals everyday and took care our Juyoung like your own son.
Thank you to the teachers who introduced him a new world.
Thank you to the friends for your kindness and making many wonderful memories for Juyoung.
I do not blame anyone. I do not blame myself. Because this is not the fault of anyone. I only profess that everything is in God's providence.
Juyoung, I will see you soon. When God calls for me, I will run to you with excitement.
I love you, I love you so much.
This letter was a tear jerker.
Afterwards they came to our house, the mother and father and sister, the interpreter and the exhcange student president and her daughter. I nursed my baby and mused at how it all happened. They were supposed to come the day before and I had ensured that the house was clean and a good meal was made and worked hard to arrange every detail, including that we would all clear out and sit our butts at the church to let the parents have a quiet meal with just Juyoungs immediate family and not have any craziness happening everywhere in their greif. But instead they had too long of a day at the hospital with Seth and postponed. And then came unexpectedly after the service. And there were 26 of us in the house. And yes chaos. And the food was mainly leftovers reheated. And nothing that I had carefully planned. Yet so much better.

Mrs. Kim sang in her beautiful opera voice for us. She glowed like a queen and gave such sweetness in every soft movement. She was treasuring this time, finding the good and beautiful in everything, and smiling to think of her son living in this home with this family. The father was noble. Wise. Understanding. Generous. Watching his wife to make sure she was alright.
The interpreter was a woman who was expressive and talkative and went about saying, "This is just amazing. I've never been anywhere like this. Why you can just FEEL the family in this house. It's so great." She looked at my husband, "Do you know how lucky you are to have married into this family?" she demanded. He made a sweet response. Minutes later I heard her asking the same question to my sister in law. She was marveling the whole night.

Carissa reminded me to calm down (gentle words but her big eyes that spoke disapproval strongly!), and "let it go" as the Frozen cliche says. And so I did. I relaxed. And saw the glowing home full of family with grateful eyes. It was a beautiful place to be. My parents talking so freely with his parents, despite a language barrier, this connection of a common Lord, a shared hope, and love for a boy who was no longer there. Abby has a gift of scooping up uncertain persons and making them feel welcome and secure. So she had Juyoungs sister as a bestie by the end of the evening.
The sister had her parents demeanor of royalty. She was sweet and elequent without bitterness and simply said, "I think the Lord heard Juyoung singing and said, that was good, I think I'll have him by my side to sing for me for eternity."

They're all wonderful. My brothers and sisters and Tamara and her Yessica (sister in law and her amazing sister) and my parents... and the community there was so touching as well. And Mr. and Mrs. Kim - what examples of Christ flowing through you even at the most difficult times.
They donated all the monetary gifts to the teens at the Brimley church.
They left their cash with my parents to pay for a dance class for an exchange student whose parents were not sending any spending money due to financial difficulty.
They left all of Juyoungs things to be given out to family and friends as a way to remember him by. Natalie wrapped up in his handsome yellow coat remembering the cold day where she had gone without one and he had, like a gentleman, removed his own to lend it to her.

They hugged my parents and invited them to visit in Korea and expressed a desire to come back and visit again.
They spoke kindly to me about how God could use even this disaster for good.
They were thoughtful and generous - oh so giving - at a time when most would curl up and shut everyone out.
Ama summed it up like this: "I know who Jesus is now. I saw Him this Christmas."

And, despite the circumstances, she said "It was a wonderful Christmas and I wish I could go again to Brimley for Christmastime"
And when I asked my mom how she was doing she smile and said, "Is it strange if I say I'm great?"
That was the thing. I've never beheld such extremes of pain and grace. My sister's baby died earlier this year and that funeral had it too - hurt and hope. But this time, with strangers included, the weight of God's grace was so thick that you could feel it and know it in ways that we are missing most of our lives. And it will go on. My parents will invest in the basket ball team, the teen girl driving her grandpa's pick up truck, the other local exchange students, and many other lives who were affected.

I marvel at this Christmas and treasure it in spite of the deep ache that I know will go on in the hearts of his family. Because I know they will love and live fully and that Juyoung will smile from heaven with the pride of his heavenly Father.

flip

The console table was about $24 and the side table $12 - from Salvation Army. I spent $12 on clearance hardware.

They were well made tables, and a good brand. I know sofa tables and entry tables go for good prices on craiglist. So I didn't paint these with me in mind, but used what I had for resale. They sold for $200 within two days. It was a nice fun furniture flip. Maybe took 2 hours to paint?

 I painted these two dressers, using the existing hardware and leftover gray and metallic paint. I like the tone of brass with gray.

This was the before picture.

And I even used the dresser outside at a party before I sold it

 

Fun project to resell 

One more after picture

 

Christmas 2014

A few times a year I skim over "The Nester" and am always inspired and moved by her. She talked about decorating with simplicity and freshness and with real elements - popcorn garlands and handmade childrens items on a real tree instead of gobs of seasonal storage that just add to layers of stuff. She talks about being a memory maker, not a stuff manager. It lays at the back of my heart and mind now - is seasonal decorating about building family time and memories together or is it about hauling out boxes of stuff and spending time unpacking and then repacking the stuff.

The chalkboard wall was a family project - everyone adding in their snowflake. It didn't take long - each snowflake maybe 30 seconds to draw. This was a fun activity that we will do again. I do like having a chalkboard wall. It builds a feeling of informality and connection and art into the home. I really want my house to be a lived in thing, not a museum of display, but only things that are useful and unimportant and meaningful. Unimportant and meaningful can be a hard blend - I want my home to be held with open hands, so that gathering and people always are important and the items are not. However, I want the items in my home to have stories and be serving a good purpose. The chalkboard wall has been this - welcoming family to draw all over the walls, while still providing style and function.

We had a little forest of christmas trees across the table - and the boys egg carton reindeer crafts in the window. We tried to do many projects this year - including a scrapbook of memories.

here is another kid craft - in the window Ama helped the boys make paper christmas trees which went on a candle holder. And I made a metallic NOEL deer head print for the wall.

Our nativity scene is something that I will always box up and take back out. I love putting out the figures and even packing them away again.

There is the picture on the wall of Christmas art that Tristan made as a child, and my newest favorite thing - a topiary reindeer. I just love him. And he'll be hauled up and down from the attic for years to come too. But there will be a balance I hope. Not too much STUFF - only a few well loved things that are always a joy to put away and take out.

We had some other decore, but this was the jist of it. Merry Christmas.

side table

I picked up this side table for $3 at goodwill. The primative lines seemed like it would make a good boy's bed table in an industrial room.

But I didn't need a bedside table, I needed a livingroom table, and this just didn't fit right. So I painted it with some metallic blend.

Along the seams I threw in a few nailhead trim tacks. It was simple because I used the existing crack and just tapped them in.

The middle is more gold and sides more silver. This wasn't intentional. I just painted at two different times so the mix turned out differently. It didn't seem to matter either way to me. But it does make a sidetable suitable for the livingroom now. I bought the character sketch books at a resale too. That made me happy and they tuck into this table quite well.