Growing up Korean Canadian, I always prefaced my national identity with the word “south.” I grew up in a divided nation; there was North Korea and South Korea. I grew up in the South, the part that’s not communist/totalitarian, and I never wanted anyone to know that I was associated with that weird backward country in the north. So I would always say, "I’m South Korean," with the extra emphasis on the word “south.” North Korea was a place where I never imagined I would set foot in, it’s called the hermit kingdom for a reason; it’s hidden, and impenetrable. Nor did I want to penetrate it in any way! I immigrated to Canada when I was eight years old and I grew up in Toronto Canada, with all the benefits of a modern society, the abundance of food, spoiled as an only child, basically living like a prince, unaware of the world and it’s sufferings. It wasn’t until I graduated seminary, reading more about global affairs, and studying geo political policies that affect our world, that I started getting interested in North Korea and why it was the way it was. Other than the general knowledge of communism, war and separation, and the long standing armistice between the north and south. I was uneducated in matters that pertained to my ethnic heritage. Why was it divided, what really precipitated it’s demise, who were the leaders? These were all questions that peaked my curiosity and like anything in my life, if i was interested, I would go on a rabid reading binge until I found out what I needed to know and was satisfied that I had come to some foundational knowledge of the issues. I read books like ‘Aquariums of Pyongyang’, a retelling of the horrors of the North Korean gulags as told from an escapee, and also a book that summarized in 700 pages the history and political insights of North Korea called, ‘Under The Loving Care of The Fatherly Leader’. So all that to say, North Korea was somewhat of a small obsession for me for a time. I wanted to go there, see it for myself, and the fact that so few have actually stepped foot in that country was even more enticing.

It was 2005 and I was visiting Los Angeles for a conference for my work as a Christian minister. I had a spare day so I decided to call up my old friends and catch up. I had spent four years in Pasadena California attending seminary, so I had a community of friends with whom I kept in touch with even though we were miles apart. On this particular visit, I was visiting a friend who owned a coffee shop, and another friend who was married to a lawyer and was somewhat of a socialite joined us. She was always well dressed, stylish, and I never asked her what she did for her vocation or what she even studied in university. She was somewhat older than me, and I was young when I was in seminary so we didn’t have a chance to talk much other than the social conversations that were mere gestures of courtesy. On this particular afternoon after some remincising and laughs, it was time to leave. But a random question was posed to my socialite friend, “how was your trip to North Korea”? I was suddenly glued again to my seat, I had just finished a season of binging on information about North Korea and my ears were sensitive to anyone who brought up the topic. I was totally surprised, I would have never thought it, picturing her in North Korea in her dolce gabbana shoes. Not a chance! But it was true, she had been doing humanitarian work in North Korea for some years. She worked with some people who were based in Northeastern China, and from there they would cross a border near the intersection of Russia, China and North Korea. I was at full attention, like a soldier who knew his next assignment was about to be dropped on his lap.

Sure enough, after keeping in contact after our rendezvouz in Los Angeles, I was offered the opportunity to come with her on one of her humanitarian trips to North Korea via Northeast China near the Tumen River in the Jilin Province. I jumped at the chance, everything seemed so providential, I felt deep in my inner being that an invisible hand was putting all this together. There was no way I could say no, this was a once in a lifetime chance. I gathered some close confidants together who also wanted to go, and we went. It was as simple as that, I just decided to go and everything fell into place. The chinese government, who is well aware of the potential risks to foreigners entering North Korea were not keen on the idea; and as such visas into china with the intention of entering North

Korea were not readily given out. However, in my interview with the chinese government official in Vancouver Canada, I hid nothing, and was open and honest. I told him exactly where I was to go, why I was going, and I got the visa! Just like that I was on my way. I landed in Tumen, China shortly after, we arrived in the dark of night, and my first impression was that we just landed in a place where there were no signs of life. There were no lights on the buildings and the lampposts lighting the streets were so dim, it was so eerie, like we landed in the future, post apocalypse. However, I was very tired and I just hit the sack at the hotel hoping that tomorrow would signal a new day. My last thoughts that night before I went to bed was, “I hope I didn’t make a big mistake” because if my first impressions were any indication, i was way in over my head. I was feeling depressed and frankly a little frightened. Reality has a way of hitting you like that. When reality confronts idealism, reality seems to win everytime until you conjure up some reservoir of courage and remember the compelling reason why you came in the first place. Without purpose, “calling”, sense of destiny, whatever you want to call it, courage cannot be conjured up in the midst of everything that shouts within, “YOU MADE A BIG MISTAKE”. With that I passed out in my dreary hotel room, I had traversed half the globe, and apocalypse or not, I needed some sleep.

Thank God for tomorrow! I woke up and i immediately heard what I needed to hear to ease my fears. I heard signs of life, people walking the streets, business people setting up makeshift marketplaces on the street by the river tumen, and ladies yelling in mandarin which sounded like a symphony in my ears. From my window, I could see children making their way to school, and I realized these people had all their lights offbecause they wanted to save electricity! No one is a night owl in Tumen, China, I’m sure this to be the case in most agrarian cultures, I just had not realized where I was.

We settled in Tumen for a few days, recouping; I also had to wait for my visa to enter North Korea to arrive. You see, I went to China without even a sure guarantee of entering North Korea because I had this firm belief that everything would work out somehow. Well, we received two visa entries to North Korea after a few days, it was for me and for a friend who traveled with me. She got the visa but not her husband, because she was a nurse and that was something we specified that we were interested in getting involved with in the country. Her husband was not happy about being left behind but it was what it was, and he was a good sport about it. We were also close friends so he knew I would take care of her the best I could, although I had no idea what was ahead of me on the other side of the river.

Hermit Kingdom.

She had white powder on her face as a sort of foundation and bright red lipstick with dark eyeliner for her eyes. She was the border guard in that typical throwback communist uniform that soldiers in North Korea wore during the war in the 1950’s. I once saw a picture of a North Korean woman soldier in a magazine once, but I thought it was an exaggeration and just a caricature of North Korean life. But there was no doubt about it, they actually wore make up as such, white powder foundation that made them look like a mix between a geisha and a panda. It was odd and abnormal, which i would soon learn that everything about North Korea would be odd and abnormal.

We went through what could only be described as an absurdity. They had metal detectors but they didn’t work, and computer monitors that were just for show because it was just a blank screen. How did I know the computer didn’t work? The border guard didn’t look at the screen once and he wrote all my information down on paper with a pencil. Plus out of curiosity I leaned over the counter to take a peek. It was absurd but that was North Korea.

They went through my bags and found a bible, and the border guard warned me with a seriousness that put chills down my back, “you must bring this back, or else you cannot leave”. That was one time in my life where I second guessed my decision to bring my bible anywhere. What if someone took it, stole it, or just wanted to entrap me with it? I was staying in an international hotel in Rajin, Songbong area of North Korea, so if I left it in the hotel room, anyone had access to it. And it was not like I brought a pocket bible, it was big one, one of those big leather bibles. It was an added stress that brought a level of anxiety that added to the anxiety that I was feeling already! We waited for a government official to arrive at the border and escort us into the city from the border, it would be about a 3 hour drive. He came and immediately took our passports and we wouldn’t get our passports back until we left North Korea two days later at the border. I was completely under the power of this man, he had my passport, and if he wanted to detain me for any reason he could. He didn’t say a word the whole ride into the city. We were mostly silent in the van, we didn’t want to say anything that would raise suspicion to our government minder. We applied for a visa on humanitarian reasons and told them we are part of a larger NGO in Canada. They see Christianity as a potential threat to the powers that be, and if they knew that I was a Christian minister at that time, we would not have received our visas, and if we did receive our visas knowing that we were Christians, it would be more dangerous for us while we were in their country. As I looked outside my window during the bumpiest road I have ever traveled on, I was struck by how everything looked so familiar to me. I grew up on my uncle’s farm in South Korea working the rice patties even as a five year old. Those were some of the best memories that I have growing up. So pure, so simple and clear. You plant the rice, you wait for the rice, you sell the rice, and you keep some to eat. Simple! No iphones, wifi, laptops, tv, just work, nature, friends and marbles, lots of playing marbles in the dirt courtyard outside my uncle’s haystacked roofed house.

Then about an hour into the ride, we drove past an elementary school and we saw children. In Africa, children despite their abject poverty wave out of curiosity and yell, “mozoongo”, meaning foreigner. You wave and they wave, despite the language barrier, they are fearless, they come to you, they want to relate. However in North Korea, the children just stood at a distance, no smiles, no waves, just a weird resolve to resist and distrust foreigners. A belief that has been systematically drilled into their psyche from elementary school. Although I was a Korean, I wasn’t North Korean, I was a foreigner brainwashed by the yankee americans, and I looked it too. I was a head and shoulders taller and bigger than all of the soldiers that we saw. I am 6 feet 1.5 inches tall and 220 pounds, which is pretty big for a Korean. It was odd and unnerving, they were children but unlike children I have ever encountered. They were brainwashed, it was like the whole country was brainwashed. We were also told not to look, talk to, or engage with any locals. We were only allowed to take pictures of the scenery, so candid shots of North Koreans were definitely out of the question. I was happy to oblige, I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble with the authorities after we left because they talked to us.

After a few hours, we arrived at our foreigners hotel in Rajin, Songbon area of Northeast N. Korea. We arrived at dusk and soon we were in complete darkness. The lights didn’t come on in the streets, everything was pitch black, no moonlight to speak of. I could hardly see the person walking next to me, it was that dark. We would occasionally see the light of a battery powered headlight of a bike from a distance which was a welcome relief, but we were soon left in darkness again. We treaded carefully on the pathway to the hotel, and to our surprise found out that we were the only two foreigners in the city and at that hotel. The hotel was lit with flourescent lighting that you see in an interrogation room in the movies. This was too scary even for this big Korean guy. I was truly frightened, and the idealism of visiting my home country and doing some good for the suffering people went out the window. In that moment, I just wanted to go home!

We spent the next two days visiting other humanitarian efforts by other NGOs in the city, and eventually we were led to the site of our proposed daycare centre and orphanage. The North Korean government allowed that portion of land in a remote village in the Northeast to be the location of our centre. We drove about an hour from our hotel into a remote farm village and visited the site. When we were almost there I could see the village from my window, but we became stuck in the mud. It had rained earlier in the day and North Korea having little to no infrastructure, the roads disintegrated into mud. So we exited our van to push from behind, but soon were greeted with local villagers who came to our rescue. We were out of the mud soon enough thanks to their help, but again no interaction, no hellos, no smiles, no thank-you’s. But I noticed a man who had helped, his face rugged, wrinkled and suntanned, that spoke of a lifetime of hardship and hard labor. He reminded me of my uncle, my beloved uncle who owned the farm where I worked, whom I loved and who loved me. He was my hero, so handsome, hard working, charismatic, man of few words, but definitely a leader in the community. I loved that man and it was as if my affection for my uncle was transferred in some measure to this man, he looked so familiar to me. Maybe this was part of the reason I was suppose to go there, to be reminded that beyond the caricatures of the people as communists and brain washed conformers and colluders, they were just human beings like us trying to survive day by day. Rarely do people see the humanity of the people of North Korea, the kindness that lies in the heart of every human being deep in their core. The instinct to help another when in trouble, to share food when hungry, to provide shelter for the homeless. These North Koreans at least in that moment revealed their humanity underneath the veneer of communist colluders that could wreak havoc in the world. I don’t know when it happened exactly, but I was no longer afraid, these people could have easily been my uncles, aunts, or cousins. It was by providence alone that I was South Korean by birth. My father-in-law was born in North Korea and escaped before the war, he could have been one of these men, he was the right age. My father-in-law has no aggressive bone in his body, he is one of the kindness and friendliest men I have ever met. They are just people and people in need of desperate help. I wanted more than ever to build that orphanage and daycare centre, I wanted to do my part to ensure that the children of that village would get at least one good meal a day. Knowing that millions of North Koreans died in the famine a few years prior, I was more than motivated to help in anyway I could. Three years and three trips later, the orphanage/daycare centre was built. We left the daycare centre in the hands of people who lived in Northeast China to run and operate, but sadly a few years after that, we were told that the manager we put in charge was banned from entering North Korea. He was blacklisted for some conjured up crime against the “government”! That’s North Korea, that’s the risk you take when you do ‘business’ in that country, but there are no regrets. I don’t know if the orphanage is still running or if they are feeding the kids but I do know that for a few years, those kids had a home, and the kids in the village had a full meal everyday. We can’t calculate so much when we are trying to do the right thing. In fact, too much calculating has known to cause paralysis of action.

What begets courage?

Cause.

I run a non profit in East Africa, and in cities like Mombasa and regions north of it, terrorist groups run rampant. I have been in areas where Al Shabaab terrorists killed over 200 students in a Christian college a few hours from the Somali border. I hold meetings where the town knows that a foreigner is the main speaker, and on previous occasions with other foreign speakers, grenades were thrown in those meetings. I crossed the border separating North Korea and Northeast China, a remote area where you can see the real suffering of the North Korean people. There are people that have been arrested in North Korea for just stealing a sign! I don’t share these things to boast in my bravery, in fact I struggle greatly before these trips and the temptation to just cancel is very real. But somehow I still get on that plane even though my heart is racing and full of anxiety. Everything in me screams, “don’t go, you have a family to take care of”, but I choose to go anyway. Many ask me where I get that kind courage and I tell them simply, “the cause is greater than my fear”.

For three consecutive years I travelled to North Korea for humanitarian reasons, to oversee the building of a daycare centre/orphanage in a remote village. In this centre, I know that the kids who frequent it, or live in it, will have food to eat everyday. In Africa, I go to train leaders and inspire them for a vision of a country led by benevolent servant leaders. We give scholarships to young students who buy into the message of service but can’t afford to go to university. The hope that a nation can be led by servant leaders in my lifetime is a dream that is greater than my fear. If we are living for something just for ourselves, then we often miss opportunities for adventure. Self-preservation is boring and meaningless in the end. What are you going to say at the end of your life in your deathbed?: “I survived and kept myself safe”. There is nothing wrong with protecting yourself against unnecessary danger, but if something is moving you, and a cause has touched your heart, you might want to explore that even if it’s out of mere curiosity. Many times, curiosity is the starting point to a lifetime of adventure while carving out a life of great meaning. Self-serving leadership is the very antithesis of servant leadership. Servant leaders envision a future that could be, so they sacrifice self-preservation for that end. Such leaders touch hearts, inspire hope, instill courage, and mobilize a movement. A leader does not begin a life of leadership by trying to be courageous for courage sake. In their leading, courage is a natural result that surfaces as they pursue something greater than themselves. It’s just a byproduct of living from vision, a call, a purpose beyond themselves.

Love.

Love also activates courage. A mother who has taken on the responsibility of protection and safety will stand up to any force endangering the ones she loves. Commitment to and love for the people you are responsible for is a driving force for courageous action. Nehemiah had the courage to ask the King of Persia for a leave of absence to help his people who were in dire need. He knew they were in trouble and his love compelled him to act. As a cupbearer assigned to test the wine for the king, to present the wine with a sad countenance is a serious offence. The king could interpret this as a sign that something is offand when you are the one testing the wine for poison, this raises suspicions. We also see that Nehemiah, out of his love for his people, had the courage to ask the King for the resources needed to help them rebuild the wall. Sometimes all that is needed for courage to be activated, is a sense of responsibility that is born out of commitment and love.

Truth.

Truth will activate courage. The knowing of what is right propels the action of doing what is right, and this right action is activated from a place of deep conviction of truth. Managers do things the right way; courageous leaders do the right thing. Daniel had the courage to stand up to the King of Babylon because of his convictions of what he knew to be right. He could not compromise his truth, he knew he had to account for every conviction embedded into his heart when he stood before the ultimate Maker of the universe. Courage is found when one’s reverence for truth is greater than one’s reverence for man’s opinions and reactions. It is crucial that a leader is driven by a healthy fear of not living in truth and wisdom is the application of that truth. Truth is the what and wisdom is the how. Creative wisdom only comes when truth is the north star from which we guide our lives. We can’t be wise without living on the foundation of truth. Do the right thing, live for what is true, and wisdom that begets courage will follow you all the days of your life.

Hope floats.

To say that I had no self-protective instincts rise up during the whole “cult” fiasco would be untrue. Yes there were moments where I just wanted to cover everything up and not deal with it. It would cause harm to my reputation and that was never in doubt. I knew I would take a big hit for the actions of this one person that I entrusted with so much. My judgement, my leadership, my own integrity would all be questioned and I wasn’t sure if my ego could take it. Maybe my life was building up to this one moment, would I do the right thing, did I tame my lion of pride to find humility that produces selfless action rooted in truth and love? I did! I let it all out there, i let the chips fly where they may. I trusted in someone greater than my circumstances and I trusted that in the end everything would work out. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t feel the sting, the lion may be tamed but it may still bite. Though it won’t kill, it still leaves a wound.

To say that we went through a battle would be an understatement. The countless accusations from people who once professed their love for us, people that we counselled for countless hours during their time of need, all but abandoning us in our time of great trial. People leaving the church one by one by one, like a boat with a hole in it, sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss of the dark. Yes we recovered in time with new people, new staffand new energy. But it still took some time, and the journey seemed endless and ever so painful.

It was however a necessary part of any leader navigating stormy seas. You cannot abandon ship during the storm. I had to choose daily to keep going, keep walking, keep doing what I was suppose to do no matter what, or at least until I was sure I had finished this portion of my odyssey. That’s also courage, a courage born out of responsibility, a commitment to get the job done no matter what.

Courage is not just an action in a moment of time. Courage to persevere, to keep the faith, to keep doing the right things even when it is unnoticed, that too is courage, and a courageous life is worth living as it signifies that you are still walking with the hope of something better as your north star. Hope floats, or at least in this case, it kept us from drowning in despair. That’s the story of the bible, that even in the darkest hour of humanity, it was hope that kept Jesus on that cross. It’s hope that drives us to do that which we believe is right, noble, and true. At least this way, we can sleep peaceful at night knowing that you are basking in heaven’s approval.

I wish I could say that there was this supernatural redemption that occurred which is worthy of a movie script. That there was repentance from those who needed to repent, reconciliation, tears, rejoicing, and celebration. I so desperately wanted that to be the ending of this story. But so far, that ending has eluded us, and I have to be content with knowing that God led us through the valley of the shadow of death. That He did prepare a table for us in the midst of our enemies. That even in the most trying season of our lives, we enjoyed the fellowship of our close friends, family and surrounded by the comforting presence of God. Even in the valleys of life, a table awaits if we are willing to sit and take a respite from all that is bent on destroying us. That even death has no power over us, but a mere shadow that haunts but can’t consume.

After nearly five years of discovering our own Judas, we can confidently say that we finished that part of our odyssey and we kept the faith. We kept the faith, we held onto hope not in an outcome of our choosing, but in a God who is ultimately good, and redeems in His own way and in His own time. That’s the story of the good news of Jesus Christ, no one ever imagined that His life would turn out as it did, but it did. His most ardent supporters all but abandoned Him, and what appeared to be a triumphant success of a life quickly turned into a tragedy. He would have been the ultimate story of failure if that was the end of the story. But we all know the end of the story, redemption in the most unlikeliest way. A suddenly happened to the world! That’s the hope for us all, a suddenly is our destiny, He will not abandon us to the grave of despair. He is the Finisher of our stories so don’t leave in the middle of it, keep the faith, keep hope alive!

No matter the seasons, no matter what job, what city, what new divine appointments you are destined to meet, never lose faith, never lose hope, don’t read the book halfway, because the cross reminds us that He is the only one worthy of the best conclusion to our lives.