Watermelon Seeds & the Dead Sea Scrolls: A Day in the Life of Min

             Life as parents of a special needs adult is far from boring. Conversations with Min are as broad, fractured, interesting, confusing as any could be. Example: the day he went from talking about watermelon seeds to the Dead Sea Scrolls in the same minute. You laugh? We did too, but this is just a typical day in the life of Min.

            In less than a month you’ll have the opportunity to peek more into the life of Min—from his perspective (ours also). You see, in January of 2021 Min approached his dad and I and said, “I want to write my story. Will you help me?” We didn’t start right then because we weren’t actually sure Min comprehended what a mammoth task this would be. But, come that mid-July we began what birthed his memoir…

A Home for Min Soo: Putting Together the Pieces of My Life

            I don’t know if I’ve ever taken on a rougher writing challenge than this. I became Min’s “secretary” and served as his scribe as well. Some days were pure torture. But then there’d be gems he’d drop along the way that made his memoir shine.

            I’ll never forget the day he wanted to quit. I urged him to give it at least five more minutes. He grudgingly did, yet it was in those minutes Min unknowingly unleashed the purpose of his book…

            … and his life. Wow. It stymied me!

            I verbally committed to giving Min one year to get down the rough draft. It took an additional year+ to do all the edits and every other task needed to see Min’s dream come true—his memoir in print.

            We had wonderful support from professionals who helped, all because of their love of Min. And there’s no way the “secretary” could have brought the manuscript to completion without Brian, Min’s dad and “techno support.” We labelled us all TEAM MIN!

            When Brian and I did several edits together, we found ourselves in awe and wonder of how Min, a developmentally disabled individual with an I.Q. below 70, could’ve come out with the words and thoughts he did. Oh, there are many episodes of hilarity within the pages, but there are also solemn, deep moments that still move us to tears, even after reading the whole book countless times.

            We believe the Holy Spirit aided Min in this writing. There’s just no other explanation for it. God’s Hand was on this broken fella as he poured out his joys and sorrows from a soul and spirit that are not disabled. (And Brian and I added backstory.)

            So, yes, this is a shameless promotional blog post, to be honest, as we invite you to look for Min’s memoir. Coming soon in paperback, e-book, and audiobook forms! Maybe we’re a little biased, but we—along with Min’s pre-readers—agree that his story may move you. Change you.

            Thank you for letting us share our son with you through A Home for Min Soo: Putting Together the Pieces of My Life. Min used his birthname as author, so you’ll find this title authored by Kim, Min Soo. He hopes one day his story reaches South Korea, his homeland, and touches lives there as well.

            It seems fitting to share Min’s favorite hymn with you this time—

“When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, ‘It is well, it is well with my soul.’

 

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, let this blest assurance control:

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, and has shed His Own Blood for my soul.

 

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought! My sin, not in part, but the whole,

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more; Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

 

O Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, the clouds be rolled back as a scroll;

The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend; even so, it is well with my soul.

 

REFRAIN: It is well—with my soul. It is well, it is well with my soul.”

 

(from the hymn “It Is Well with My Soul” by Horatio Gates Spafford, 1873, public domain)

#AHomeforMinSoo #memoir #SouthKorea #KimMinSoo #GodsHand #HolySpirit #developmentaldisability

 

8/21/23: A Home for Min Soo—Putting Together the Pieces of My Life is now available for pre-order through Walmart, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online retailers who sell books. The audiobook version will be available soon.

Until Our Prodigals Come Home

 

            Twenty-seven years ago, our sixteen-year-old daughter left home. It’s a day I’ll never forget. I can’t. It’s seared into the very depths of me. I will never understand why she did this, and she may never understand why this hurts so much. For her, she finally “got her way”—something she’d wanted all along.

            We always thought one day she’d come home. No, not just walk-in-the-door come home. Change-of-heart come home. There’s a huge difference. How do we know? Because a couple years after she left, she “dropped in” for a visit, was gone again, proverbially came back again (now as a married woman with a child, then another, then another), then cut all ties.

            It’s too long and complicated a story to write here. I wouldn’t want to anyway. Suffice to say, our prodigal never REALLY came home—not in her heart. So, to this day, we have this great divorce—one we didn’t ask for. One we didn’t want. One we hate. But “it is what it is.” (I despise that expression at times.)

            For years I thought the hurt would never go away, and we’ve learned it doesn’t. Sometimes it changes, and then in an instant something will spark a reminder; and it grows again. Even in the past month or so I’ve cried. How is it possible tears never run out? But they don’t.

            There’s some comfort in knowing we’re not alone. Many parents have had prodigal children. Some comfort. Only some. Yes, others we can relate to, talk to, listen to, exchange hugs with. But, in the end, “it is what it is.” If you’re parent of a prodigal, I may understand how you feel, but I can’t promise the pain will ever end. Only hope it does.

            Yes, we can pray. And must. God’s desire is for our children to come home. We know that by His Word. God loves family and wants strong ones. He instructs parents to love their children and children to honor their parents. So, know the prayer for your prodigal aligns with God’s Heart and Mind.

            Herein lies the problem. Not all prodigals come home. As sad as that thought may be, “it is what it is.” Why? Because they’ve not had a heart-change. So, even if a son or daughter returns, if there’s been no real change within, has the prodigal REALLY come home?

            For many YEARS we prayed our prodigal would return. I no longer ask that of God. What I do ask is this: That our daughter returns to God. That’s all. Why? Because, if or when she does, THEN she’ll genuinely “come home,” be it physically or a long-distance reconciliation.

            So, parents of prodigals, don’t give up. I’ve wanted to often. I have numerous times. But God doesn’t give up on those who’ve turned from Him. He still desires a relationship—reconciliation—with them. Being He’s our perfect example, how can I give up? (Remind me of this, though, next time I do. I’m flawed.)

            Your prodigals may come home, and we will rejoice with you exceedingly! But if they don’t, continue to pray for them—that God sends SOMEONE to deliver His and your message!

            One thing I learned from another family going through this is that God can use someone along their wandering way to straighten their sights toward the Savior. It need not be me, us, or anyone who knows our daughter.

            In the case of the family I’ve mentioned, God used a bus driver.

            “You need to go home,” that bus driver said. And that prodigal returned to God then her parents.

            Prodigal, are you the one reading this? Then know you’re always welcomed home. The Savior is waiting.

            So are we.

“There were ninety and nine that safely lay in the shelter of the fold,

But one was out on the hills away, far off from the gates of gold—

Away on the mountains wild and bare, away from the tender Shepherd’s care…

Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine; Are they not enough for Thee?

But the Shepherd made answer: ‘This of Mine has wandered away from Me;

And although the road be rough and steep, I go to the desert to find My sheep…

But none of the ransomed ever knew how deep were the waters crossed’

Nor how dark was the night the Lord passed thro’ ere He found His sheep that was lost.

Out in the desert He heard its cry—So sick and helpless and ready to die…

‘Lord, whence are those blood-drops all the way that mark out the mountain’s track?’

‘They were shed for one who had gone astray ere the Shepherd could bring him back.’

‘Lord, whence are Thy hands so rent and torn?’ ‘They are pierced tonight by many a thorn’…

And all through the mountains, thunder-riven, and up from the rock steep,

There arose a glad cry to the gate of heaven, ‘Rejoice! I have found my sheep!’

And the angels echoed around the throne, ‘Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!’…

 

(from the song “There Were Ninety and Nine”—lyrics by Elizabeth Cecilia Clephane, written in 1868)

#prodigal #runaways #home #brokenfamily #reconciliation #prayer

*Photo credit: Lori Lueders