A Flavor for Life

A little over 29 years ago, my father sat across the table from my mother in a bustling 설렁탕 restaurant in Seoul, Korea and decided he needed to marry the woman sitting across the table from him.

It was their first date.

My father had a full head of hair at the time and had spent the past 4 years forging a life for himself in America. I like to think he had that same twinkle in his eyes and hearty, throaty laughter that he has now even back then.

My mother was just blushing into her late twenties at the time. I wonder if my father knew at the time that the demure woman sitting across from him was the secretary to the most prominent pastor in Korea on weekdays. On weekends, she was the leader in a troupe of 12 ladies who ventured on excursions across the entire peninsula (much to the chagrin of their conservative parents). She was a lady ready for adventure; Korea was too small for her.

Two weeks before the date, he phoned to ask if they could meet at Namsan Tower, a rather romantic date spot in Seoul. She was impressed.

They met at Namsan Tower at 6pm. I’m certain my mother was wearing an adorable outfit with matching shoes and purse with her hair curled to perfection, her porcelain skin glowing. I hope my father was not wearing his bell bottoms and sporting pink shades, though I’m sorry to admit he probably was.

After exchanging greetings, she waited to see what he would suggest: perhaps some coffee or tea on the terrace, or maybe a trip up to the observation deck.

He suggested they go to the local beef stew restaurant by the park. She was less than impressed.

And so there they were, sitting over steaming bowls of beef stew in a crowded restaurant. My father noticed my mother barely picking at her soup. Maybe he was genuinely concerned or maybe he was just making small talk, but he asked 1 fateful question that night: I noticed you aren’t enjoying your soup. Would you like to go somewhere else?

My mother replied that no, the soup was delicious. Her stomach was just a little unsettled, because she had been fasting all week in preparation for the meeting with my father.

And that was the moment my 30 year old father knew he needed to marry this woman, lest she starve to death.

——

Being the strong woman of faith that she is, my mother has quietly, but firmly, led this family from behind my father through the power of prayer. Until the day I left for college, I left the house or my mother’s car each and every morning with her hot handprints still pressed into my hands that she had held as she prayed for me that morning.

Unlike many Asian parents, she did not pray that I ace the test that day, nor that I graduate at the top of my class, nor that I get into Harvard. God gave us those out of His graciousness.

She prayed, instead, that His will be done in me and that He use the day to make me into a better person.

For better or worse, God took that quite literally and gave me and my family a ton of struggles along the way to shape us into the people we are today. And for that, I am thankful.

When she could see that something was in need of extra prayer, my mother would fast for a day, 3 days, or sometimes a week in a physical demonstration of the dependence she always had on God; for those days, she would rely on Him not just for her daily emotional sustenance, but for her physical sustenance as well.

—
After a long, grueling project, I took a reprieve this week to get my life back into sorts. And I came home to the family to be the good daughter and sister that I had failed to be during the project.

Being the intuitive person that my mother is, she was able to see this past weekend that under the smiles, romps under the cherry blossoms with the family, and gleeful laughs that something was troubling me. Being the wise person she is, she didn’t have to ask to know it was my job.

And so she took it upon herself this past Sunday to fast as she asked God to let His will be done in my career; that He take care of me in the American work field that she understood so little of but knew God had complete control over. And she placed my career into His hands with her entire being. And she prayed.

For this woman who has quietly upheld this family through her wisdom and prayer, sacrificing and humbling herself daily, I wanted to do something special for her when she broke her fast at midnight.

Steamed mussels in wine, recipe forthcoming

So I made her 2 of her favorite dishes: steamed mussels in wine and mexican chili corn. And when the familiar tunes of our family’s grandfather clock struck midnight, she and I sat around the coffee table, giggling over steaming ears of corn … but only after she’d said a prayer for us, of course.

Mexican corn, recipe forthcoming