Ray Parks book

Along the Wayone story of a sojourner

A book of praise. A testimony for the purpose of encouragement. Main message: don’t be afraid.

Ray Park

PrefAce

purpose of this guide

This is not a scholarly dissertation. I have no desire to add another literary volume to the al-ready vast library. I give no new understanding or advice that is not already given in the Bible. This is my attempt to share practical insights given to me during the final days of my life, to leave behind a thing of value as we face common trials and fears.

who is it for?

This book is for those who are on the way to Heaven. Being saved is only the beginning of a journey. Once we recognize the Lord and accept Christ, the arduous road of sanctification begins. A minefield of tough questions, and confusing choices lay ahead. We read the Bible, but there is so much noise and clutter from conflicting

2

doctrines, confusing omissions, and contradict-ing views and misguided commentaries—not to mention the intentional heresies that bombard us through the media and by false teachers. How does one stay on course? What happens when an unexpected event overturns our very life? Do you have the foundations to face the test?

The truth is, the Bible is sufficient to address all of these. Still, a helpful voice from a fellow travel-ler, who can relate to you his own experience, may serve a good purpose—as a supplement.

I will assume you already know the Lord. If you don’t, go seek Him immediately; you don’t know what incredible gift you are missing. But you, my fellow traveler, are on your way. From when you were born again, to your final breath, you are on a journey of sanctification. Truly, the work be-gins here. The pressures can be overwhelming at times. It is not easy to be a Christian. Life is a battle ground, not a play ground. Until one finds the rhythm of the walk with God it is particularly difficult. Then, just when you think you under-stand and have climbed a plateau, Satan will at-tack, as is his role. He has, in his arsenal, weapons to match every stage of your maturity. One must never underestimate him.

In my life, I meandered through too many paths I could and should have avoided. Many times, I found myself trapped in some dark alley of confusion, anguish, and doubt. If only somebody

who travelled before me had given me a bit of guidance, how much lighter, more productive, and joyous my travel could have been. Everyone’s journey is different, but there is information and methods that can lighten our steps and bring deeper appreciation for the ground we walk. Of course, these are all in the Bible if you know where to look. As a fellow traveler who has been there, and now stands at the doorsteps of gradu-ation, I will try to highlight for you the key points and landmarks one should not miss; and hope-fully do this in a way that you can easily relate to. And my prayer is that you will develop a deeper appreciation and thirst for the Word along the way, so that you will develop a habit of feeding daily directly from the Source.

Finally, whether we admit this or not, we all live in fear of death. I am now at a place where I can say, indeed, death is nothing to fear. As a brother in Christ who loves you, I wish to offer tips, observa-tions, and comfort, and to tell you, there is noth-ing to fear. To see my reasons why, read on.

4

a l o n g t h e w a yp r e f a c e

3

Life’s Lessons

how do we know?

Not long ago, I visited the Museums in Golden Gate Park with my wife. I peered through the glass panes at a fish exhibit at Steinhart Aquarium in fascination. I was mesmerized by the diverse shapes, colors and patterns, and a unique imprint of humor and beauty that God has given to each of these creatures. Every fish was a dazzling marvel of creation. No man-made thing comes close to the packaged elegance of each of these creatures. During my days at Stanford, I studied robotics for several years. My research in this topic gave me a deep appreciation for just how difficult it is to make something move like the fish. Our most advanced technology and all of our efforts can at best produce a crude, child-ish mimicry of even the least of God’s creation. To combine the beautiful design—with all of its

functions — and the control system to move ef-fortlessly in all six degrees of freedom, requires a mind-numbing level of complexity and design elegance. And how does God create these? By a system of transferring a software code from one generation to the next. In all the years spent by man just to understand the mystery of DNA, we have now barely reached a point of recognizing the complex design. Each of the fish swimming in the tank is a treasure beyond man’s comprehen-sion, far greater in beauty than anything man has ever produced, a product of the meticulous, loving hand of the Master Artist.

Yet, the bible tells us that this God, the one and only God, who flung stars into heaven for our story book at night time, who gave us the sun, land and water, working in harmony to provide us warmth, food, and water, who created creatures large and small for our pleasure and benefit, that this God loves you and me, personally, intimately and perpetually.

knowledge that humbles

Such knowledge is enough to make a man fall upon his knees in humility and uplift his spirit to rejoice in thanksgiving. But most people find themselves wanting what they don’t have, ago-nizing over afflictions that they feel they don’t deserve, and in fear of some calamity that might fall at any time. Indeed, if one does not know

6

a l o n g t h e w a y

5

God and refuses to accept Him as their Cre-ator and their own Father, then there is a good reason to spend the days in anxiety and fear. But for those who know God and seek to know Him better each day, we know from the scripture that our life on earth is a preamble to a much greater life to come. We know that this earth is not our home. We are sojourners passing through an enemy territory. Our life on earth is a proving ground; a special time of training and lessons for our spiritual growth. And this time is fraught with dangers, temptations, side-tracks, traps, and land-mines that the enemy has placed to siphon away the proud and unreceptive.

deadly choice

The bible points to the fools and scoffers men-tioned in Proverbs, and the Pharisees and Saddu-cees of the early church period, and the “earth-dwellers” at the last days of Apocalypse. But God from before the foundation of the universe designed us to overcome all that this proving ground can throw at us. No weapon that the enemy can throw at us can break our spirit and our bond with God. Our intellect and emotion can withstand any affliction and attack that the devil and demons will put before us. Our body was designed to work perfectly under all normal and to some extent beyond normal conditions, with built-in defenses against diseases, anticipat-

ing the malicious attacks the Enemy will concoct. We are meant to be the over-comers and victors in our life on this earth—not merely survivors but champions and graduates of the most exciting spiritual development program designed and monitored by the Creator of the Universe.

a testimony

In this book I want to share with you my own experience—the joys, hardships, despair, awaken-ing to God’s persistent calling, the peace and security as I learned to walk with God—as I look forward to my graduation, and imaginable won-ders I’ve yet to experience.

l i f e ’ s l e s s o n s

7 8


My Account

if death had a sensation

Last August, I had my 52nd birthday. I liked being 52. I saw the world now with more mature eyes, and able to process what I saw with the wisdom of experience. Most hard questions that have nagged me—about life, the universe, and espe-cially the Bible—were mostly answered. I was at peace with my past, content with my walk with God, and looking with anticipation to what was to come. I felt good physically. I worked out daily at the gym, and did 30 to 40 mile rides through the extraordinarily beautiful hills of the East Bay regularly. My body has endured numerous inju-ries and abuses of my years of reckless pursuit of sports, outdoor activities, and my love of speed. My body, which I now viewed affectionately as an old reliable car, had generally served me well with no major problem. Even with my stiff joints

and greying hair, I was thankful that I could still climb 3,800 ft. to the peak of Mt. Diablo and call it fun.

Then one day, I was beset by a sensation like nothing else I’ve felt before—an alien concoction of breathing pain, stomach cramp, heart-burn, throbs reminiscent of broken ribs and arthritic joints that formed a backdrop to a cycle of hun-ger pangs before and lingering heart-burns after each meal. These symptoms lasted for only short periods. It is strange how when a pain is gone, there is no memory of it, as if it was all imagined. After one such episode, I was on a mountain bike ride with my friend Jim. I remember telling Jim half jokingly, “If death had a sensation, this would be close.” Jim did not know what to make of my odd statement. I had unknowingly given a pro-phetic note to what soon followed.

10


9

DisruPtive neWs

the doctors

My first encounter with this condition happened while I was in Korea for a six-day business trip. Through the entire 11 hour flight home, I suffered in pain. By the time I landed in San Francisco, I was exhausted. When my wife picked me up at the airport, we drove directly to the hospital.

I wondered if somehow an old injury was acting up, or could it be something much worse. It is the unknown that scares us. The doctor at the Emer-gency at John Muir hospital looked for signs of broken ribs or heart attack. The tests came back normal. The doctor told me to take some aspirin and call if things did not improve.

Within few days, my condition did improve. I felt normal again. I was inclined to dismiss the whole thing as a fluke incident. My wife, Alice however insisted that I take a medical exam. Dr. Lee, a pri-

mary care physician, methodically reviewed the prior test results and ordered a full bank of tests. The tests, again, came back normal.

Then, Dr. Lee called me. She wanted to perform one more set of tests and scans. She explained to me that there is a chance that this is cancer. I pushed aside the implications and tried to fo-cused on the immediate actions this demanded of me. I was most concerned about Alice who struggled with the pressures of financial wor-ries, work-related stress, and family issues. Life was hard for her, she seemed to be in a fragile state. I told Dr. Lee that I wanted to keep this information to myself while the tests were being performed. I had two weeks to ruminate on the implications.

the news

When Dr. Lee called me with the test results, I knew from her voice the news was not good. A four inch mass was found in the liver. Blood tests on cancer markers confirmed that this was an active tumor, already growing into a major vein and spreading to my lungs. She told me that I must now consult a specialist with whom she had already been conferring.

My first meeting with Dr. Sun, a cancer special-ist, came one week later. Dr. Sun was strikingly young. Yet, he had a calm efficiency about him

12


11

that I liked. He gave me the prognosis as kindly as he could. Yes, it is an active tumor— stage 4 cancer. He explained that it is too late for normal treatment with local radiation and chemo. Re-moval of the tumor or a liver transplant was not an option either at this late stage. When I asked, he reluctantly observed that people at my stage have 7 to 9 months to live on the average.

Now I finally understood, that the fleeting dis-comforts and aches that I experienced numerous time in the past, which I had casually attributed to my old injuries, were due to this disease. This was good to know: it freed me from the qualms and worries that creeped up from some dark re-cess of unknown fears. I know now what I faced.

prior reflections

At various times before this, I did wonder what I would do if I ever got cancer. I did not fear death because my foundation is established in the Word of God. But I dreaded a few ways of dying. Cancer was one of these. I watched people I have known die from the disease. It was hard to comprehend how someone who was completely normal one day could decline so drastically and die from it. I also observed how people reacted differently to the calamity. Some were personally devastated by the very prospect of death, and clung to the end to some imagined hope of re-covery. Others went quietly with admirable resig-

nation. I saw my own mother face her cancer with a stoic acceptance. I observed her endure silently as her body wasted away over seven long years. I saw my father face his cancer with a defiant self-will. He fought on to his dying breath several years later as I watched him at his bedside.

And I wondered what I would do if I had to face such a fate. Cancer was a dreadful thing, the stuff of ultimate nightmare. I prayed, Lord, I am not afraid of dying, but please call me by another way, anything but cancer. Even so, I had to ask myself, why am I any special that I should be spared from the trials that my own mother and father faced, along with countless others who had to endure the slow agonizing death due to cancer? I resolved that when my turn came, no matter in what form, I would go like Cyrano’s Autumn leaves—graceful to the end. Now I faced the test of this resolution.

revelation

A special, inexplicable peace rested upon me during this time. I felt none of the fear or stress that one would expect from a situation such as this. I was given perfect night’s sleep. My mind’s reaction to the news was one of nonchalance. In effect, I faced nothing new other than an aware-ness that I will now likely die of this cancer, and die sooner than I had envisioned. I still didn’t know exactly when and how the end would come.

14

a l o n g t h e w a yd i s r u p t i v e n e w s

13

We all must die. This is a universal truth known to everyone, regardless of one’s creed or religion. Logically, this news of cancer held no significant new information for me and I resolved to con-tinue my life as usual. If I can only not succumb to my base fears and sentimental sorrow, I will just continue as I have been, and one day, go to sleep for good. So I determined to continue to read the scripture, seek God more diligently, love the people around me, and await my death.

The process, however, has proven to be much more challenging than this. What I did not know is that there is a test of endurance that stands in the way. Death is the final test before gradua-tion. Before it is over, it will shake me to the core. It will shake anything that can be shaken, and remove all things until only the things that cannot be shaken remain. This too is fair, and I marveled at the beauty of this design.

delusions

The awareness of an imminent death inevitably refines one’s view in a most profound way. An example is my realization that all along, I have lived bound to two large misconceptions. One, death is something to fear and avoid at all cost. Two, in spite of everything, my life here on earth will continue, indefinitely.

I stand now at the door of death, and I can state

categorically that the fears of death are unfound-ed for a child of God. No more need be said about the first misconception. As for the second, I find our irrational delusion of permanence comi-cal. I’ve clung to this notion with every aspect of my life. Why did I strive after my academic degrees and professional achievements? I did because I thought they will bring fame and for-tune someday. Why was my dwelling place such a huge and foremost concern? Alice and I emptied our coffer many times over because we believed that a house is our fortress, and it will make us happy for all the days to come. Why did I collect so many things—gadgets, tools, pieces of clothing and pairs of shoes? I acquired each item for some unknown day when I would need it. And why did I lug around that big camera, and take so many photos everywhere I went? Because I was pre-serving the moment for the future. Only those who think this earth as the permanent and final dwelling think like this, and do these things. Who in right mind would spend everything he has to remodel a hotel room that he will leave in a few days? How foolish.

How much simpler my life would have been if I accepted more earnestly what the Bible has taught us all along: that I am a traveler, merely passing through life; that the true purpose of life is to learn God’s ways and learn to love other people?

16


15

breaking the news

Having to break this news to friends and loved ones proved to be a paramount challenge. I sim-ply did not know how to go about this. How do I tell my wife? How do I inform my children? When should I let my friends know? Would it be bet-ter if I kept this to myself until the last moment. I knew there is the proper and improper way to do this. What is the most considerate, compassion-ate way to do this?

When Dr. Lee, explained to me her concerns, I knew and had accepted the outcome. I pondered the implications alone for two weeks. This was a lonely time. My son Riley is the youngest of our three children. He had a special day off while his classmates went on a field trip to New York. So I decided to take an afternoon off to take him out for a movie. We ate at our favorite Hamburger restaurant, then went to the theaters. “Hunger Games” was the hit movie among his classmates. In the darkness of the theater, I considered the picture of the two of us sitting together and re-membered how this blissful moment will soon be shattered by what I have to tell him. I watched my son in his happy preoccupation with the movie, and I cried.

I first confided this dilemma to my friend Bill. Together we addressed the problem. Bill told Brad and together they supported me through the biggest challenge that faced me: the delicate

task of telling my wife. As I guessed, directness and transparency proved to be the correct ap-proach. I did the same with my business partner whose livelihood depended on my continued performance. For my children, a united front with my wife proved to be the best way. For my bible studies, a simple announcement was all that it took, and the power of fellowship (koinonia) took control of the situation in an unexpected way. For my church community, a public announcement worked to eliminate any misunderstanding or mis-information. For my casual acquaintances, most still don’t know of my situation.

Telling others that I will soon die is a surprisingly difficult task. So I wrote down few simple pre-cepts to help me through the process: Tell those who are closest first, then work

outward. Stay attuned to the Holy Spirit’s leading for

timing and place. Share transparently, not selectively. Consider the person before me, and hear my

words from her perspective. Shield her from harsh sentiments and feeling when possible; love the person as I explain the situation. Beware of a pride trip—yes, even here, the

flesh will rear its ugly head if I am not aware. Be a faithful witness. This is about God’s

design; not about me. Thank and glorify God.

18


17

reactions

I found sharing the news is also a powerful, mov-ing experience. This task demanded a brutally honest connection of two souls on the truest, most basic plane, where our inner character and our bond is disclosed openly. For everyone to whom I had to relate my condition, I saw some-thing about that person that I never saw before.

Alice first could not believe my word. She thought I was joking. When she realized I was serious, she broke down and cried, and my heart broke with her. I explained to her the eternal perspective living and dying. I assured her that this is not a calamity, but a graduation to await with anticipation. I reminded her that God will protect and provide our every need. Then re-markably, she stopped and looked up with a calm determination. She said, “I somehow knew this was coming. Everything will be OK.” Then she im-mediately set out to do whatever she can to make my life as pleasant as she can make it. I witnessed in wonder the ideas of courage and love become physical manifestations in my wife.

For my friends—Bill, Brad, Jim and others—I was struck by how profoundly the news affected them. My business partner Rick took the news with calm consideration, followed by continuous care and concern. My friends in Korea reacted with unconstrained sorrow and alarm. These dear people struggled to find any way to help my

situation. Some tried to convince me to come to Korea where treatment of liver cancer is purport-edly more advanced because the hospitals see so many cases. My uncle was convinced that some exotic mushroom from a remote hill in Korea would help me. It took all my negotiation skills to keep him from spending a small fortune from his meager resources on this miracle mushroom tea. Alice’s best friend Lilian knew a forerunning oncologist at Stanford Hospital who specialized in liver cancer, and she was willing to drop ev-erything to get me enrolled in his program. I was deeply moved by everyone’s manifold expres-sions of sympathy and love. I told each one that my principal goal is not to get well, but to honor God in whatever condition in which He deemed best to put me.

It is a privilege to be blessed by friends like this. I was thankful that I got to experience this. I pray that I will be worthy of their affection and love until my final day.

support

Growing up, it was ingrained in me to be self reliant. I would not seek others for help. This sense of independence is something I picked up from my father, and reinforced by the culture of America as I grew up. This was also impressed upon me during my university through early career years. As someone growing up in the US,

20


19

this idolized image of self–made man is hard to escape or ignore.

With cancer, I had no choice but to admit that I can no longer help myself. Then I realized that to face life’s challenges alone, while shunning the help of others, is not God’s way.

changes

My views of the world around me were notably reset at the moment of my revelation. As if the knowledge was the trigger that I needed, I saw things around me, sharply, and from a different perspective. Some things I saw with a deeper appreciation—like the moments with my wife and children, friends and brothers, and even strang-ers. Other things no longer mattered.

material things

I recently accompanied my wife to a shopping mall. This, I knew, would be a moment I will remember and treasure. As we walked the aisles of clothing and merchandises, I recognized how every item was designed and presented to incite a special need and desire: an open invitation to vanity and to induce the “lust of the eyes.” And this, we live buried in—this subliminal seduction. Gradually, little by little, we get accustomed to it, come to appreciate it, and eventually participate in it. In truth, there is nothing wrong or evil about

a stylish new coat, or a fancy espresso machine, or a luxury car. That is, as long as our core values are not compromised—such as the commitment to the truth, denial of our pride, and responsibil-ity to those in dire need.

As I walked those aisles, the first thought that occurred to me was, “I don’t need any of this any more.” The simplicity and finality of realization was refreshing. I was never much of a shopper, but this utter divorce from the desire for material things highlighted by my imminent death gave me a special sense of freedom. I liked it. I walked similar aisles, replicated in countless stores ev-erywhere, all my life. Why did I not see it this way before? I wished I did.

view of time

I now focus with a greater intensity on things that matter. What I do now must have an immediate purpose. Else, why would I bother? A purpose gives me the focus. The focus transports me to the tasks at hand, away from the fog, and discom-fort and pain that the cancer brings. This is my solace.

I count three things that drive me. First, a desire to be a worthy witness of my King and Savior, who has given me the peace that surpasses all understanding, which keeps my heart and mind, so that I can indeed rejoice and give thanks no matter my situation. Second, provision for my

22


21

family when I am gone. This gives a special mean-ing to the work I must accomplish. Third, leaving behind a proper legacy for loved ones. This writ-ing is an element of this.

I cannot afford to waste what limited time I have on meaningless, mundane things. The work con-sumes all my available hours. I am driven to be an effective steward of my time. In effect, I am more alive now than I was ever before.

relationships

My situation caused me to recognized the strength of the bond between me and my fellow man in ways I have not experienced before.

Upon sharing the news, the compassion that my friends bestowed on me was surprising. Even people whom I barely knew displayed such care and sympathy. The extent to which my friends were affected by the news revealed their caring hearts. A lady from our church, whom I did not know, took the time and effort to put together and present to me a gift bag of books and a DVD on staying healthy. My friend in Seoul, Korea scanned the city for specialists and was ready to fly me to Korea for treatment. Jim took special time to go riding with me although we could not take our usual long course, and he had to wait much of the way. Some recommended to me special exotic treatments all out of concern and love for me. Then I told myself, Ah, this is what

it means to be in the Family of God. I am un-worthy of such love, and yet, without hesitation they gave so freely and naturally. I prayed that I received their gifts of love as graciously as my friends have given them to me.

I realized that this fabric of love we weave in our lives by interacting with our brothers and sisters, this is a treasure that is precious beyond anything on this earth. The Lord gave this a name: “fel-lowship,” koinonia. He called the people who are bound by this net of love, His Body. The Family of God, once we are born into it, is the great-est family in all the world. If only I had seen this earlier, how so much better my life would have been?

endurance

Then came the physical side of the trial. I naively envisioned that I will continue in my earlier state until a quick death. No. My body weakened. Eat-ing became a labor each day. Numbing fatigue came over me by the afternoon, and got worse by the evening. I resisted taking the pain medicine but soon, the pain from my liver was too distract-ing and I had to take the pills on a regular basis. Now, even a short walk is laborious. Dr. Sun told me that the liver pain is normal. The systemic chemo medicine I started to take is supposed to contain the liver growth, but will not reduce it. So, how I feel today is as good as it gets.

24


23

Inevitably, things will get worse towards the end. If my bodily health was the sole basis of my sense of well-being, then I had good reasons to despair. Fortunately, my body has a little part in how I gauge my wellness. My wellness is in the security of Christ. My strength comes from the Word. My happiness and joy comes from my personal, daily relationship with my Father. Therefore, all is well with my soul.

Still, the daily grind against my declining body remains: the final test of my endurance against my flesh.

cancer—satan’s legacy

Having considered this phenomenon of cancer for some time now, I begin to understand its demonic design. It latches parasitically to the body, diverts the body’s life-sustaining energy to its rapidly growing tumor. By counterfeiting as normal cells, it renders the body’s defense mechanism ineffective. Because it craves nutri-tion, it triggers panic-inducing hunger pangs, and drains away from the body its vitality. This is only the physical side of the attack. Psychologi-cally, it works to break down the victim’s mental state by continuously bombarding the mind with hopeless mental fatigue, like a siren’s whisper to surrender; just put off all things, lie down, close the eyes, and give in to the weariness, darkness and despair. It effectively extinguishes all creative

energy, which normally drives an active mind, and puts in its place a dull blankness.

The hunger comes suddenly and furiously. I crave food, but eating does not satisfy. When I am overcome with fatigue, resting neither refreshes me nor brings recovery. This malevolent thing of intelligent design is a dark, pervasive presence that seemingly delights in inflicting maximum torture on a person through persistent pain and discomfort, and grinds away at one’s very life force. It mocks the very gift of life that God has instilled in us and points unmistakably to a mali-cious intelligence, in character with everything Satan does.

Satan’s ploy is to present a counterfeit of every-thing admirable and worthy that God has done; his desire is to defile those things that are beauti-ful and worthy with which God blessed mankind. So it is with cancer. If the human DNA is the ultimate software system created by God, cancer is the most vicious malware invented by Satan. He is the usurper and defiler. He cannot create a beautiful thing on his own. Yet he delights in car-rying out grotesque mimicry of God’s creation. So he spawned viruses designed to destroy. I hate the creature with a perfect hatred—for its dastardly works, for its insidious style, and its malicious intents.

Yet, it is God who allows the evil to continue for a time. It is said, All things (even the evil)

26


25

work together for good for those who love God. Romans 8:28. Those who choose Satan as their father are attracted by evil. But we who are saved are filtered, purged, and strengthened by evil. So there is a purpose for evil in this world. We are meant to suffer, and fight, and emerge victorious when the fullness of time comes. This is what life is: a training ground of immortal spirits.

There is nothing good about my cancer. In truth, there is nothing good about any disease, or ca-lamities, or trials that befall people in this world. We cannot rejoice in hardships, for these are the results of evil intents. Nevertheless, we can rejoice in the fruits of the hardship. God did not leave us to be hapless victims of Satan’s tricks. By design, we are built to overcome the hardships and transcend above the momentary physical misery to an eternal spiritual glory; and in so doing, we do testify to the name of God, and His grand design for our lives.

value of fasting

The pain started within few weeks. I was deter-mined to not allow it get the better of me. Resist-ing against fleshly desires—of lust, greed, and recognition, for exorbitant habits in dining or comfort, etc.—is one stage of managing our flesh. Enduring against pain is another, more advanced stage. A man cannot find spiritual freedom when he cannot even escape the bondage of the body.

This is why the Bible exhorts us to seek modera-tion, to deny the body, to overcome the fleshly desires, and to fast.

Now that I face the prospect of fighting a pain that will not go away, but get worse with time, I recognize the real benefit of fasting. What is fast-ing, but an exercise of pitting the will against the flesh? Half way into a fast, the body signals that it is not happy, that it needs food, and the signal gets louder. I personally have not fasted long enough to experience the stage when purport-edly the hunger goes away. I’ve noticed that the struggle is not so much the sensation of hunger, but the persistence of the nagging flesh for food. In the end, fasting is a rewarding exercise, be-cause at the end of it, there is a gratifying meal to anticipate.

My struggle with cancer has taken on the sensa-tion of fasting. The persistent, nagging discom-fort and pain, combined with the ever present fatigue. But neither eating nor resting brings relief or satisfaction. I have only my will to keep things in check. This is going to be a long fast. With time the test will get harder, I know. And this time, it is not an exercise. So, I am glad for the few times I’ve fasted when it was still just an exercise.

Knowing what I do now, I would have fasted more. I imagine that it would have been easier to face this trial if I had more training under my

28


27

belt. I wonder whether God intended to prepare us for times like this when He encouraged us to fast? Still, there is an end to this fast. Then, I will eat and be satisfied with the heavenly food. I so much look forward to this.

denying oneself

When the suffering reaches a peak, all I want is for it to stop. But it does not. How do I overcome this power that pain inflicts on my body and then permeates to my entire being? Fighting it makes it only worse, because I unwittingly focus even more on the pain. The key I learned is not to fight, but deny my body its control over my mind and soul. Denying oneself is simply a choice, and requires no energy. It frees my mind to focus on what is more powerful than bodily sensation.

If any man will come after me, let him deny him-self, and take up his cross daily, and follow me. Luke 9:23. Yes, my Lord, I will follow Thee.

focusing on christ

I still have my secret weapon when all else fails. I open the scripture and get into my studies. The Bible is not a book. It is an intricate, multi-dimensional, boundless information delivery ma-chine—entirely consistent, complete, and true. No human mind could ever produce a system of this function, complexity, and elegance. It is incontro-

vertible that the Bible was compiled from outside our time domain, supernaturally, extra-terrestrial-ly. The more I read it, the more I understand. The more I understand, the more I am able to digest the fathomless significance of the message. The more I digest, the more I hunger for more.

My studies transport me to a communion with God. And I delight, laugh, and cry with the Word that moves my soul. My struggle with cancer be-comes a dim shadow when I see the glory of God that pervades the universe. Even in this cancer, I understand the purpose it has for me. I remem-ber the simple hymn, “Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face, and the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace.” How true.

carnal and spiritual man

Endurance is a tiring work. Yet, my trial has only begun and I know the hard part is yet to come. If this world was all there is for me, then my endur-ance would be in vain. There is no remission, no recovery only an end shrouded in darkness and confusion. I can understand why people without Christ cling to this miserable existence with all their might and with everything they have, hop-ing desperately for some elusive, fictional cure. This is where believing and denying God makes a deadly difference. I have my hope firmly planted on the promises of God, so clearly and

30


29

permanently stated in the Bible. I look to my graduation from this life with great anticipation and longing. This momentary affliction of my body does not compare to the eternal glory that awaits me.

I do not pray to God for a miraculous cure. If God has a plan, and it is His will, I am certain He can make this cancer vanish with a blink of an eye. Why not, when He is the architect of the great code, the designer of this wondrous system, and the master of every matter that is on earth? But that is not my prayer. A miracle without His pur-pose is merely a fluke. Rather, I pray to God that I may finish my race well. I pray for the strength and courage and wisdom to ace my final test. If a carnal man so fixed on his bodily existence can utterly disregard the existence and needs of his spirit, why should I not be able to live through my spirit and disregard this body? This is my challenge. I will not be a subject to this diseased body. It shall not master my mind and spirit. It has served me well all these years. And at times, it was a source of my pride and satisfaction. Now it just has to carry me through to my graduation day.

d i s r u p t i v e n e w s

31

fLAshbAcks

reaching for a star

As children, we are encouraged to dream. I grew up listening to songs like, “when you wish upon a star...,” and later, “to dream an impossible dream ... to reach for the unreachable star ....” Now I look back, and can’t help but laugh at the folly. What a terrible thing to do to a kid? The Book of Proverbs teaches that a child should be brought up grounded on wisdom and fearing the Lord. It teaches that a child should learn to be circum-spect, frugal ,and provident. But when the TV and Hollywood media began an assault on family with the indoctrination of entitlement, a predomi-nant segment of US population were affected. And I was no exception. I swallowed this pride-trip line, hook, and sinker.

But I grew up embracing this notion of the self-made man. From as far back as I can remember, my father’s eyes were fixed on emigrating to

America. We never felt Korea was our home; it was a place our family sojourned while waiting for the promised land—America. We arrived in America with a few suit cases and a handful of money, just enough to get us going after spend-ing everything my parents had saved on the journey here.

mother

My Mother was born to a well-to-do family in Pusan, the second largest city in Korea at the southern end of the peninsular. The people of this province are traditionally know for a warm heart, outspoken bearing, and impulsive behav-ior. My mother was all of this, and she was beau-tiful. She could not bare to see a needy person without taking some action. One day while they were still newlyweds, she loaned away all of their meager savings when a neighbor came to her with a heart-sob story. They never saw that money again. And my father never forgave her for that.

But she was everything a boy could ever want from a mother. Time and again, I saw how she went out of her way to help others. These are the impressions that stick to a child’s mind. What better model than to see a caring heart in action? She was loving, protective, comforting and sup-portive to the extreme.

Her outspokenness and impulsive actions got

34


33

her in trouble more than a few times, mostly with my father. But I loved my mother for her warmth. And she was beautiful.

My mother was a devout believer. As far back as I can remember, she talked to me about Jesus. When she worked or cooked, she hummed or sang hymns. She took me and my sister to the church every Sunday. I remember a hot summer day when we walked the dirt banks of a creek to Sunday school. Cicadas were chirping. We huddled around a dirt patch in a circle while a teacher told us a bible story. I don’t remember the story, but I remember the watermelon we got afterwards.

We arrived in the US in January of 1970, to begin a new life. This was not easy back then for a couple starting anew in a foreign land. For many years, she got up every day at 6 am for a long bus ride to a knitting factory. Later, she worked at a Hughes assembly plant that manufactured LED watches. Her task was welding tiny parts while peering through a magnifying glass. Looking back, I realize now how much she sacrificed for us. Through it all however, she was always proud of me. When I gave my valedictorian speech at the high school, she glowed with pride, as though all her hardship was vindicated at that moment.

Then came college, graduate school, career, startups, and children. I left home in Southern California and the pace of life accelerated to a

blur. My mother receded to a dim recess of my thoughts as I frantically pursued my dreams of success. Whenever I sent a card on Mother’s day, or called her on her birthday, it was with a tinge of guilt. I knew that she deserved more and better than this obligatory gesture. If she was disappointed, she never showed it—always happy to hear a word from me, however terse. I pushed away my guilt by promising that when I become successful, I will make it all up to her.

My father called me one day to tell me that my mother was diagnosed with cancer. I rushed to Southern California. She had a very aggressive cancer that started in her nasal cavity, evidently from prolonged inhalation of toxic fumes while working at her welding station. They had already performed a minor operation to remove the tu-mor, but this was to no avail. The next operation involved an grisly operation that would remove a large part of face bone, replacing it with a pros-thetic denture-like device that would allow her to talk and eat, though poorly. The doctors did not know whether even with this procedure, the cancer could be cured, of course. It was just one more thing they could do.

When I arrived, the family was at a stalemate. My father did not want the procedure. My sister insisted we go through with it. My mother did not know. So my opinion would become the decision. My sister arranged a meeting with the doctor who explained to me what would happen to my

36

a l o n g t h e w a yf l a s h b a c k s

35

mother if we did not go through with the surgery. But my father was convinced that my mother’s frail body could not take the operation and the horrific ordeal that would follow even if the surgery went flawlessly. I considered, I prayed, I thought, and in the end, recommended to bypass the surgery. I decided to trust God if there is to be a cure. I could not bare to see my mother’s face come under the knife of doctors who could not tell me the outcome even with the surgery.

She weathered seven increasingly agonizing years as the cancer ate at her face and her body. My sister, who was a registered nurse, and took it upon herself to take care of our mother at her house. I questioned my decision each time I thought of her. I visited her as often as I could, but my life was in shambles as I struggled to keep the startup alive through the dot-com crisis of the Silicon Valley venture market. On one such visit, I remember apologizing to her. All those things that I had wanted to do for her, that I had put off while chasing wild dreams weighed heavily on me. She told me I was wrong. She said I already gave her everything a mother could want from a son. She told me how happy I made her, and how proud she was of me always. When I had to return from my visit, I saw her sitting at her window watching me as I drove away. And my heart sank each time, knowing that this may be my last vision of her.

I was in Korea one winter day when I received a call from my sister that mother passed away. I rushed to Southern California on the next flight out of Incheon. My sister told me that she endured the ordeal bravely with her bible as the one source of her solace. She told me that towards the end she was in great peace. Beneath the failing body was a spiritual giantess. At the funeral service, I saw her face for the last time. I saw peace there on her face, and she was still beautiful. But as I traced the lines carved in her face, I saw telltale signs of the misery she had en-dured. I have never before wept so bitterly, with such abandonment.

father

My father was the most incisive man that I have known. He had the sharp mind that cut through muck and confusion in both people and prob-lems. Where others dawdled indecisively, he had an uncanny insight to make the right choice and get people into action. This quality attracted many people, but few could stand his piercing ways for long. He lived a lonely life and died as a lonely man.

For reasons I have never understood, I was the one object of unmitigated love and fellowship to my father. With everyone else, he would unfail-ingly discover within short time some unac-ceptable flaw in character. As for me, there was

38


37

nothing I could do wrong. He did discipline and reprimand me when I deserved it of course, but when done, he would always find a positive twist to what I did. I learned from my mother the warmth and safety of the motherly love. My father demonstrated the perfect, unwavering, un-conditional, stark and dangerous love of a father.

He was born on 2/21/1930 in a farming village in North Korea in a family of five brothers and two sisters. From the very early age, he displayed signs of extraordinary intelligence. When he was a mere child, he would recite verbatim an entire volume of the Chinese character manual—where most students struggled to memorize a page a day. He so impressed the teachers, several took him under their wings, even paid for the tuition when the family could not afford it.

The country was under Japanese occupation, through his early years. For a poor farming vil-lage, this had little impact in the lives of villagers. All children were taught to speak Japanese and by the time the Japanese occupation ended in 1945, my father was fluent in the language and could write better than most native Japanese.

With the cessation of Japanese occupation and the end of World War II, the Korean peninsu-lar was divided at 38th parallel, setting up the country for the coming Korean War. My father had just finished high school when he saw the approaching disaster. He decided to make a

desperate escape to the South before it would be too late. He gathered a group of villagers and made plans for a night voyage by the sea in a small dingy. If they were discovered, they would be shot.

They pushed off one night. My father had to leave behind all his family. He was the fifth in line of seven siblings: he had two older sisters and two older brothers and two younger brothers. His two sisters were married and had families. His two older brothers elected to stay behind and watch over their aging parents. His younger brothers were still too young for this danger-ous journey. The younger of the two sisters was a devout Christian involved in missionary work with her husband. My father loved her for her ways. As he was leaving she handed him a stash of bills—old Korean bills with gold visibly laced inside the paper. She had given him everything the couple had.

His mother walked the many miles to see him off. That was the last time he saw her. The journey was a difficult one. Lack of wind left the boat stranded in the sea for days as they ran out of water and food. They lost their way and headed for a North Korean harbor. Believing that they had reached the South everyone was on their feet waving and shouting cheers in relief as boats passed by. Then a small fishing boat ap-proached them. The fisherman told them that unless stopped attracting attention they would

40


39

all be killed. By the time they reached Incheon Harbor, in South Korea, they were barely hang-ing on to life. The harbor patrol incarcerated the group—with a looming conflict, the government was taking no chances on spies infiltrating as refugees. They were released after few days, but the money my father carried was no where to be found.

Within weeks of their arrival, the war broke out. The North Korean army swept down uncontested past Seoul all the way to the tip of the Korean Peninsular, where the allied forces made their stance in Pusan. So my father found himself hid-ing in deserted houses from the North army who were patrolling the streets for stragglers. One night, soldiers came into the house he was hid-ing. As all his companions rushed underground to a designated shelter as they did before, he decided to run up to the attic. Another compan-ion followed him, and they sat silently in the dark as they listened to horrors that ensued below. As the soldiers were leaving, he heard one say, “Wait, here is one place we have not checked.” He heard a soldier climbing up a ladder to their hiding place. A gleam of light reflecting off a bayonet penetrated the darkness as its tip slowly pushed up the hatch door to the attic. He closed his eyes and gave a final prayer of thanksgiving to God as his sister had taught him. He waited for the bayonet to pierce him, but seconds ticked away in silence and he felt the heat of a lamp on

his forehead. As he slowly opened his eyes, he saw a soldier staring at him. The soldier asked, “What are you?” Then my father smiled at him, thinking what an odd question to ask. The next thing the soldier said was even more inexplicable. He whispered, “don’t move until we are com-pletely gone”. Then he turned around, shouted, “There’s nothing up here,” and he was gone. The missionary sister’s material gift, however pre-cious, amounted to nothing for my father, but her teachings of Christ gave him his life.

Not long after this, the American forces reoc-cupied Seoul, expelling the North Korean forces from city, and there was a short respite from run-ning and hiding from the North army. But in few months, the North Korean army returned with a vengeance, and this time bolstered by Chinese soldiers. The enemy swept past Seoul, pushing the UN forces south. My father found himself caught in enemy territory again. It was during this time when my father was rounded up with other young men and conscripted at gun-point to the North army. He was put in a boot camp to be sent out to fight in battles raging all around in the Korean Peninsular. Noting the lax security, my father planned an escape route. He marked a ledge above the lavatories beside a window from which he would make his escape. But the yard was constantly patrolled by the guards. So every day he studied the pattern of their movements and counted their steps. One night, he excused

42


41

himself with the pretense of having to use the facility at a time when everyone had already bed-ded down. He reached the lavatory and jumped up to the ledge. He lay there counting the steps of the patrol. Relying on few second window and a prayer, he jumped down to the outside and bolted.

He survived while hiding and fleeing and scrounging for food. He did not have to wait long before the UN forces surged again up the pen-insula and my father was in a friendly territory again. From a very early age his dream was to live in America. So every chance he had, he studied English. This American dream played a key role at this juncture. He found a line of men trying to enlist themselves in the US army. When his turn came, he spoke in a surprisingly fluent English that he wished to serve as a translator, and volun-teer to a post at the front line—to interrogate the prisoners as they came in. This is how he became a part of the US army. He told me about the nights when he would be wakened by the sound of bullets whizzing past his head, and his compan-ion beside him would be taken in an instant, and how after a time, stepping over corpses became routine. He looked for his brothers. Perchance, he might come across one of them amid streams of POW’s. If he found them, he would save them.

The Korean war dragged on, and my father was in a train bound to Pusan, when he observed an

outspoken young man, who went out of his way serving others apparently out of sheer pleasure. He befriended this man, impressed by his ex-traordinarily selflessness. The man was from Pu-san, and without hesitation he invited my father to his home for dinner that day. There he met the man’s sister, a woman of striking beauty. This is how my father met my mother.

By the time he was 24, my father lived through more horrors and tragedies than most people in their life time. But there was one more that await-ed him. After the wedding, the couple settled into a meager but stable life of a military couple. One day, he happened to come across a famil-iar looking face in the crowd. It was his younger brother, the one who always trailed and mimicked him as they were growing up. Of all the siblings, he adored this brother. He thought that this was the most blessed day of his life. My father, my uncle and my mother rejoiced together: finally a family in the midst of a foreign land.

From my uncle, my father learned of the fate of the family. The sister, whose family was so de-voted to Christian missionary work, disappeared one day along with her family and was never seen again. During the conflict when the UN army pushed the enemy back, an opportunity came when the border was open for short time. The family decided to make a run for the South. This was a life-and-death run for the freedom. Leaving

44


43

everything behind, my grandfather, grandmother, and 4 sons made for the border along with hundreds of other refugees. They did not know how long this border would stay open, and they travelled light, counting on luck to bring them safely to freedom. In the desperation and confu-sion that pervaded the scene, the sons realized that their parents were no longer in sight. They slumped in despair. The two eldest sons decided to backtrack to look for my grandfather and grandmother. The youngest, still a child, would refuse to leave without their mother and father. So the eldest son told the fourth son, “You go and find your brother; we will find our parents and follow you as best as we can.” That was the last my uncle saw of his family.

Later, my mother would describe my uncle as the most kind hearted, good man she has ever known. Several months passed in bliss. For my father, the fate has finally turned a corner, and things were looking up. My father was away on an extended assignment when he awoke from a disturbing dream. My uncle was calling him des-perately. In the morning he received an urgent telegram. “Come quickly, your brother is dying,” it said. He rushed back to Seoul and to the hospi-tal. There was my mother, who explained to him that my uncle waited desperately, calling for my father. Some latent disease had eaten through his body, and he had died hours ago. He entered the

morgue, and found my uncle’s body. There were bandages wrapped around his head. As my father slumped beside the body in shock and despair, a line of blood streamed across the bandage.

My mother told me that the months that fol-lowed were the closest time that my father came to losing his mind. Then in the darkest gloom, a fresh hope—news that my mother was pregnant. Mother told me that when I was born, my father came back to life also. When I was still young, my father once told me that I saved his life. Then, I did not know what he meant, and he did not explain.

After the Korean War ended, the country gradu-ally returned to normalcy. After many years in the US military, my father landed a fairly high post in the Korean CIA, as an officer in diplomatic liaison and also counter espionage group. I remember never having to wait in line—for restaurants, the-aters, anywhere. His magical pass would melt any business owner into a most cordial host. But the prospect of settling in America was still foremost passionate dream. So when all other doors were closed to him, except for an opening he came across, he studied to be a baker. I’ve never had so much sugary pastries offered to me—though at first they were rather odd. So we arrived in US in January of 1970, where my father was reunited with a friend from the front-line days: Uncle Wayne who was now an officer stationed in Tustin

46


45

California. We were treated to Disneyland, and my sister and I thought we were in heaven. After a short visit in California, we moved on to Balti-more, to a bakery where my father would bake bread. This profession lasted all of one month, and we were back in Los Angeles, where with few thousand dollars, my father started our new life.

My father plied himself to many trades: a butcher shop, a wig shop, house-painting, until he settled into a landscaping business. He had an artistic talent. He loved plants. He loved the freedom and the outdoor work. He was also a perfection-ist. So he built a successful business around this starting with nothing. It was hard labor, I know—I spend summers earning my spending money. His hands became as tough as leather, and his face dark from the constant sun. But he put me through 5 years of the most expensive private school in the country as I worked on my BS and MS in engineering at Caltech. I never lacked anything. He had bought me three new cars by the time I graduated from Caltech. Others have asked what he could have become if he had stayed at his post at CIA in Korea. But he never looked back. Always content and grateful as he drove his weathered van from house to house, cutting grass, planting trees, and fixing sprin-klers. He was raising his family in a country he loved. All he wanted now was to see me succeed in life. This was a satisfaction that I failed to give to him.

He waited patiently as I stumbled and delayed over 12 years of struggle getting my doctorate. Then at a time when most filial sons were buying new cars and sending his parents on cruises, he watched me in agony as I launched my startup. Then I was gone for over 6 years in Korea. When I returned, his health was starting to fail him. But I was so busy starting up another company, then setting up a new laboratory under a Korean Tele-communication giant SKT. I tried to visit him as often as I could, but the visits were few and far in between. He rejected all my efforts to have him live closer to me, but kept his independent ways. I was so focused on succeeding, believing that when I finally accomplish my goals, I will have the time and money to lavish on him.

Not very long after my mother died from cancer, he was diagnosed with a colon cancer. He un-derwent radiation and chemo treatments. After the first year of treatment, he decided to stop. He fought the disease for over five years. In the end, I received a call that I should come, and when I arrived, I found his emaciated form still struggling. For 7 days I sat beside him speech-less and gripped by the horror of the devasta-tion that the cancer had taken on his body. He talked of visions of seraphim picking him up by his shoulders. The angel said to him, “It is time to go,” as they lifted him from this dimension. Yet the time did not come, and we waited. He had pain-medicine, but refused to take them, because

48


47

he did not like its power over his mind and will. And I prayed for the stop to his agony. Then I witnessed the dying moment of a person for the first time.

There was no peaceful release that I read about in books or saw in movies. My father went in agony, in a struggle to the very end. A spasm coursed through him, he opened his eyes and looked at me with anger, then a final long exhale, and he was gone. Before me laid only the wasted remains of a once vibrant man, who was to me a pillar of knowledge and wisdom, whose courage and discipline moved other men to extraordinary actions, who took on hobbies of fishing, garden-ing, and star-gazing with extreme passion. He had shelves of bibles, commentaries, and refer-ences filled with his own notes. Yet, he disdained people whom he thought were beneath his standard. He forbade me from inviting specific individuals to the funeral for past wrongs he could not forgive. These were the darkest days of my life: a beginning of a turning point when I was under a stupor, too shocked and numb to cry out even to God.

wakeup call

restoration

f l a s h b a c k s

49

sentiMentAL ties

“ducky pond”

It was a cold day. “Slightly overcast dusk makes for a perfect light,” said Eve the photographer. Alice had arranged for a family photo session, and hired a professional. She selected Oak Hill Park Lake for the site, adjacent to Monte Vista High School in Danville. Riley was a toddler when we first visited this place. Our children grew up playing in this park. We affectionately called the place, “ducky pond.”

It was immediately apparent that we picked the right photographer. He put us in a spot he selected, and then contemplated the composition with arms crossed. With head tilted, and his index finger firmly planted on his chin, he would con-centrate with a raised eyebrow. Then he would fine-tune the composition. “Alice, lean to the left.”

“Riley, turn your shoulder this way, and Adelle, move your left foot forward.” “Conrad let’s try putting your hands on your knee ... Good!”

As we posed for that perfect picture, I saw an artist at work. Eve’s nudging completed the com-position that made the difference between an ordinary snap shot of people and a portrait that captures the essence of a family. I noted that this is how the Holy Spirit works with our lives to give meaning to each event, nudging us to be more like Christ bit by bit. He see now the panorama of my past. He has been transforming the raw materials of my life into a tapestry of grace that is worthy even of pleasing God.

As the five of us joked, laughed, and grumbled through the photo sessions with Eve, I was overcome inside by the sadness of this moment. I could still see Riley, then a tiny tot, playing on the climbing structures and the roller slide. There was a sandy play area with water stream, where Riley and Adelle frolicked, laughing as they built some fantastic canyon of their imagination. Here we were now posing for the photos. The children were all grown up now. And some day, in not too long a future, Alice and the kids will look upon these pictures, and remember one cold spring day when the family was yet complete. A sadness came over me. I felt that I would be lost if I dwelt too long in this contemplation. I stopped.

52


51

bobby

I met Bobby when I was the head of an innovation laboratory for Samsung Electronics. My job then was to take a team of 70 hand-picked, cream-of-the-crop developers from across all of Sam-sung Electronics empire and train them in the art of advanced software product development. Bobby was the most brilliant software engineer I’ve met in all my career. He was a fiery visionary with a deep love and respect for excellence. He demanded and inspired excellence in both the products he conceived and the people he led to build them. He followed me closely as his mentor and over time I’ve come to know him, and learned the history of how he survived a calamity that befell his family at a young age, when his father went overnight from a successful business owner to a destitute outcast hounded by creditors—not an uncommon scenario in the volatile business environment of Korea. He put himself and his siblings through school by his sheer will—a feat foreign to our opulent culture in the US.

When I first met him, he already had several successful startups under his belt, but angry and callous for the wrongs inflicted on him by people, especially the superiors who had used and be-trayed him. I put him in charge of the most elite development team in my laboratory, and he never failed to deliver beyond my expectation in every task to which I put him. For his exceptional skills,

but more for his character and his soul, I loved Bobby deeply.

Eight years ago, I left Samsung. I had a parting meal with Bobby in Seoul. When the moment came for a final goodbye, he suddenly wept. He cried with such honest, open sadness. And my heart broke as I understood that our days of working together were over.

Years passed, and we stayed in touch. In 2007, I was hired to start a laboratory in Sunnyvale for SK Telecom, another Korean corporation. This position required frequent travel to Seoul, and I saw Bobby often during this time. Most recently, I saw Bobby when I was in Seoul for a business trip. There was a happy reunion among those who worked for me at Samsung and SKT. I noticed how Bobby’s health had declined alarm-ingly, and he was undergoing treatment for some serious health problem. We talked about the ventures I was launching, and we jokingly agreed that when my business finally takes off, we will celebrate together at Disney World in Orlando, a place that Bobby fancied with a childish curios-ity. I took time to talk to him about Jesus and the purpose of this life which is to discover His love. I had given him a selection of C.S. Lewis’s books. His intellect and his soul connected with the words of C.S. Lewis. Still, he clung to a traditional Korean Soothsaying cult called “ jum” with which he grew up. He was ostensively drawn to Christ

s e n t i m e n t a l t i e s

53 54


but not quite able to sever the ties with this tradition that so pervades the populous, includ-ing many Christians. I told him that I want to see him in Heaven. I demanded that he find his way to Christ. That was the day before I was stricken with the pain on a flight back from Seoul to San Francisco.

Bobby sent an email when he learned of my con-dition from a mutual friend. I was looking for the right opportunity to tell Bobby, but missed my chance. I had recently confided with Joshua, an-other former team member whom I loved dearly. And news travels fast in Korea. Bobby’s message said, when he heard about my situation, he wept “with abandon.” And I saw Bobby crying in the car eight years ago. And my heart ripped again.

anniversary

Two weeks after the prognosis was our 26th wedding anniversary. Alice and I had planned earlier to spend the weekend in San Francisco to celebrate.

We were married in April 26, 1986. Following our honeymoon, we moved to Stanford where I was working on my doctoral program at Stanford University. We were two young kids, dreamy eyed and unafraid, bedazzled by the opulence and driven by opportunities of Silicon Valley. I was eager to start my career and provide a home for Alice. So I took on a job at Lockheed as an engi-

neer and moved out of the student dorm while working part time to finish my doctoral thesis. This was a mistake. As I worked intermittently between my thesis and the job at Lockheed my Ph.D. program dragged on for many years. Life is not easy for the wife of a graduate student, especially one that worked a full time job. When my first child came, it even got tougher for Alice. I remember promising her that all will be well when I finished my degree.

I finally finished my degree, and things were beginning to stabilize. I had a good job and a budding career. But the ambition and curiosity got the better of me. While I was impressed by Lockheed and its illustrious history, culture, and high-class operation, a life-long career in this rigid defense company just did not suit me. So, when an opportunity arose, I hopped over to Sandia National Laboratory in Livermore, Califor-nia. The laboratory world fascinated me at first. As a project lead, I had the freedom to pursue interesting projects of my choosing, to work with professors at Stanford and Berkeley, and to take long bike rides in the rolling hills of Livermore wine-country each day. This was when the new venture boom was at its peak in Silicon Valley. Everyday, I heard of another startup roaring to success. I found my work at the lab too constrain-ing, even stifling.

One day, I quit my job and started my first com-pany with only a vision and grandiose optimism.

56

a l o n g t h e w a ys e n t i m e n t a l t i e s

55

Alice did not like this. My father disapproved. But I pursued this dream with a pigheaded optimism. The company was called Macroscape, Inc. When Google appeared on the scene, I shrugged it off as an inferior competitor. I managed to build a momentum and raised the funding to build the product, which I called “Ideastorm.” But as one wise old man observed, I did not know what I did not know. Worse off than a being the wife of a graduate student is to be the wife of an entrepre-neur. I dragged Alice through 5 years of startup struggle. I always told Alice that I will make up for the difficulties she endured when the company succeeds.

Then the new venture market crashed with the bursting of internet bubble in late 2000. Funding dried up, and there was no place in the market for an unproven, underfunded venture. When an investor invited me to join him as a CTO of his then thriving Internet company in South Korea, with a promise to finish and launch my product, I jumped at the opportunity. The plan was to finish and launch my product through his 120 man operation, first in Korea to be followed by a re-introduction into US. I would return to US with a successful product within two years.

I left for Korea leaving behind my family in the East Bay. This was especially hard on Alice when the three children were still so little. Soon after I arrived in Korea, I discovered that the Internet Company was actually in great deal of trouble


57

both financially and legally. In less than two months, the chairman was convicted and arrested for fraud, and the CEO all but disappeared leav-ing me in charge of the company. This lasted a little over a year before the company folded. At this time, Samsung Electronics took notice of me from a lecture I had given at their research lab. I was soon hired as a VP to lead a develop-ment group within the newly inaugurated Digital Solutions Center. Hence, what began as a short 2 year stint became a 7 year odyssey. As an executive, I had the opportunity to come home frequently. The pay was good. The company paid to send our children to private schools of our choice. But this is no way to build a family. Even worse than being the wife of an entrepreneur is to be the wife of an expat.

After seven long years, I returned home for good, and worked to get back on track. This was not easy. I started where I left off by building a new startup company. Then I got a call from a head hunter in Korea. SK Telecom was looking for someone to launch an innovations laboratory in Silicon Valley. This had all the trappings of the dream job I wanted. I named the lab, GSL—for Global Solutions Laboratory. I selected an ideal location in a brand new building in downtown Sunnyvale. I traveled across the country to gather top talents. And I launched GSL with proj-ects that I was sure would shape the technology landscape. It was a great start, but there was a

58


political battle brewing back at the headquarters of SK Telecom. The head of technology division who hired me and created the lab I started was in a life and death struggle with the head of business de-velopment division. The latter felt that the any new operation outside of Korea came under his jurisdic-tion and so moved to take over the Sunnyvale lab as his. This battle resulted in my leaving SKT after 16 months. It took me 3 years to get back on stride. I had learned my lessons. I relinquished my foolish ambitions. And finally, I was back on track, doing what I loved, and building a new company. Then just when everything was finally looking up, I learned of my cancer.

Whatever God had planned for me, I had shunned to follow my own plans. Time after time, I subjected Alice through hardship and waiting. And now, just when stability and security were around the corner for Alice, I had to tell her the news of my cancer.

It was a cool bright sunny day in San Francisco. We had taken the BART train to the city. Alice’s face shone flush from the hike up the hill on Jones Street. She smiled in delight as we checked into a landmark century old building which is now Wyn-ham Hotel. We dined at a quaint restaurant nearby. We took the cable car to the Pier 39. We rode the bus to the shopping district. We took a ferry around Alcatraz Island. We visited museums in Golden Gate Park. In the twenty-six years we lived in the Bay Area, this was the first time that I toured San

59


Francisco this way, in leisure and without a care. I never saw San Francisco except in blurs always rushing between destinations. This was a fitting metaphor for my life.

Through this time, Alice, my dear wife was deter-mined to make this a happy, comfortable time for me. The pain started in earnest while we were in San Francisco, but this would not ruin our special time together. We will remember us by this time together. Alice’s cheery presence comforted me. I fought the sadness that welled up in me as I wondered, what did I do with all those years? I lamented the times I lost while I chased my futile dreams. How would I now keep my promise to her, that I will “make up for everything.” I’ve always intended to shower Alice with everything she loved. We did have our moments, and God did bless us in spite of my failings. But mostly, I gave her 26 years of unfulfilled promises, hard-ship, and anxiety. My heart was smitten to ob-serve, that after all this, and especially after the news a mere two weeks ago, all that Alice cared for was my comfort.

the danger of falling

I realized that there are sentiments that can drown a man. I must take charge of my emo-tions, as I must subjugate the flesh to overcome the physical pain. We must not lose ourselves in the maze of sentimentality that we construct.

60


Nostalgic longings can distort and depress our mind and soul. Emotions must not take prece-dence over our spiritual reference and orienta-tion. Especially at times like this, we must keep our gaze fixed on Jesus. To stare inward to the raw sentiments is to invite the waves of sadness and despair that can overrun our thoughts. We must not underestimate the power of emotions, for they will detract us even unto losing sight of Christ. We must fight to keep our sentiments under control when facing trials.

the order of life

We are born with curiosity. How do things work as they do? Why bad things happen at the worst moment, while evil people seem to prosper and thrive under the same conditions? Is there an in-telligent God? If so, is he truly personal? Or is he cold and impersonal? Are we humans mere chess pieces created for his amusement, to be thrown aside when the game gets tiresome? Or, are we really products of accidents and are events of our lives mere series of accidents driven by a chaotic jumble of factors? Where luck rules and dog eat dog and survival at all cost is the best world view to live by? Do people believe in God because He is real or because people in desperation want to? These are some of the questions that irritate and torment us ever so persistently. If left unchecked, these irritations turn into doubts, and doubts

become seeds of disbelief.

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge .... Proverbs 1:7

When our curiosity is channeled, not by human pride and arrogance, but by the fear of the God, we are then given the proper perspective to observe the Universe as it was intended. When we are moved by the reverence and awe of God’s achievement, we each have the capacity to finally comprehend the order of life that God has set in motion from the beginning of his creation. Things work according to the design He has spoken into existence—unfathomably complex and beauti-ful. Thousands of years of man’s best effort to comprehend this universe amount to little more than spotted discoveries of this order. Every field of science to date is merely a structured documentation of these discoveries. What has man created on his own? Discoveries and applica-tions based on glimpses of God’s genius is what man so arrogantly claims as his own scientific achievements. In the early days, scientists were humble men, admirers of this order. But some-where along the way, a group of men decided to take God out of the picture, and sought to explain away their observations on probabili-ties and twisted logic. When scientists were no longer God-fearing men learning from nature the master’s design, this is when the entire discipline of science became something corrupt, queer,

62

a l o n g t h e w a ys e n t i m e n t a l t i e s

61

and irrational, and formed a basis for an atheistic religion of their own.

I often wonder what a marvelous thing learning could be for a young mind if the teachers only acknowledged God’s hand in all the creation. Rather than observing crystalline structures as cold minerals lining up in the direction of least energy, or a leaf as a chimerical product of ac-cidental bombardment of protoplasmic ooze over millions of years, one could explain how the Mas-ter designed these things from nothing, and in His infinite wisdom, set all things in motion and in balance which made life on earth possible. Every element has a role, every feature or function has a purpose, and what adventure we would have as instructors and students both to wonder what motivated the Creator to make this Universe so.

the creator and his creation

When I was young, I was filled with wonder of what I saw in the world around me. How the morning turned to day and the darkness of night covered the earth as the moon and the stars filled the sky. Then the morning with fresh air and bright light unfailingly came again. How the insects moved as I chased after them. How each animal with its own unique features filled the diversity of the life.


63

WhAt is Life?

life is a training camp

I had many questions that bothered me through-out my life. Such questions like, why do the good suffer while the evil prosper? Where is fairness when a 24 year old son is taken from his mother in a blink of an eye, when a freak accident para-lyzes a 19 year-old boy for life at a church retreat, when a loving father and school teacher is struck one day by multiple-sclerosis and confined to the wheelchair for 10 years? If there is fairness in this world, how can God allow these things to happen? Such questions are only a heart-beat away from other, more fearful questions: Is God real? Does God care? Does He really love us? Or is God only a figment of man’s imagination in his search for a sense of security against death and inexplicable fate of man?

The questions vanished when I finally under-stood that life is a training ground, not a pleasure

cruise. And this world is a boot camp, not the land of milk and honey. This is where the lessons are learned through the unfairness, hardship, and evil that pervades this world. We are the children of light in this dark world. Jesus said, be the light and salt of this world. Why the light, unless the world is dark? Why salt, unless the this world is in need of cleansing and preserving? Our march order is to go out and tell the world of the good news. We are not here on earth to perfume the sewers, but to rescue people out of it. This is not the main stage where the judgements are given and rewards are dispensed. Once we are born we cannot get out of it. We cannot speed up or slow down the process. We cannot jump back or leap forward in time. We are destined to finish the training until our graduation day. Then at the Beemer Seat, our grades will be given to us, and we will receive our respective rewards, exactly according to what we deserve based on our per-formance during the training.

When I realized this, my confusions, bitterness, fears, and doubts disappeared. Boot camp is a place of training, not a retreat. What fairness and creature-comfort can a trainee demand from a drill sergeant? God’s eye’s are fixed on each of us—not to check up on how well we are cared for or whether our accommodations meet our expec-tations; but rather, on how we conduct ourselves through each gauntlet of tests. His desire is for us to grow in spirit; not in our taste for self-indul-gence.

66


65

His lessons and his tests are uniquely tailored for each person. He will put me through the hard-est test if that’s what it takes for me to learn an essential lesson. He will put a child or a youth through fast-track graduation path if one is born ready. Or, for those of us who are slow learners, He will patiently repeat a test as many times as necessary until we learn the lesson. He never pushes beyond our limit. Only for those who have exceptional capacity to reach beyond common endurance, he raises the bar so that his child can partake of the most advanced lessons that he can take. These are the martyrs—special witnesses who through extraordinary faith and endurance can glorify God in a unique way.

Viewed from this higher perspective, life is not only fair, but demonstrates God’s divine, unde-served care and interest for each of us. Our lives are personalized programs uniquely suited for our individual character and need. The goal of each program is to produce in us, a perfect spirit that God intended in man from the beginning. A spirit that is in tune with God, a spirit that not only recognizes and responds appropriately to Gods love, but can impart love onto others, and most importantly, a spirit of praise.

w h a t i s l i f e ?

67

A bAttLe grounD, not A PLAy grounD

what is death?

A passage to greater reality.

what i believe

why i believe

the word

what is scripture?

The most advanced information system with extra-terrestrial origin.

69

tALking to goD

attitude

We must approach the Bible as if he is entering the Holy of Holies. Our attitude should neither be that of a fool who will not learn, nor that of a fanatic who is so eager to teach others that he is deaf to the teaching of the Holy Spirit. We should open the bible with openness, receptiveness, and emptiness of our own preconceptions, ready to receive, and to learn from the Most High Himself.

nothing to fear when we fear god

god who grieves: redemptive provision

Why does the impassable choose to need us?

god’s way

Life is a trial. Death is the final test. Fractals: pattern within a pattern. The blue-print of God’s way.

The way deer run, fish swim and birds fly—an ef-fortless interplay with the elements

vs. forced propulsion of man’s machines

How life should be lived

Born again

A choice, no effort involved

Born once, die twice; born twice, die once

god’s way (vs. man’s way)

the way

A proper conversation for a sojourner

our relationship with god

being right with god

When we are right with God, something magi-cal happens. Our senses get sharpened to what is right and wrong. We comprehend, then ap-preciate the blessings and design that God has bestowed upon us and the world around us. We perceive things from God’s perspective. When one is right with God, he can withstand trials and afflictions that would have easily toppled him before. Rather than being afraid, he looks to the hope of God’s instruction and blessings of each new day. He lives in the adventure of walking with God. This is a transformation that is more than

72


71

perceptions. Rather the very fabric of our being is realigned as it aught to be—as it was meant to be—even to the molecular level I believe. When a man is right with God, he becomes attuned to God’s word and love, and in time becomes fit to be a living testimony.

I consider my brothers in Friday morning bible study. I think of the men in Band of Brothers that meet at 6 am every Thursday morning. I remember the smiling faces in our family fellowship that meet every Tuesday night. These are people as God intended. I see their faces, one by one, beautiful above all of God’s creation, shimmering jewels that reflect God’s light, each a star that light up the darkness with beauty and God’s grace.

how to get right with god

How do we get right with God? How do we know even what is right with God? No one has an excuse to be confused on this matter. We are not left to wonder and conjecture on our own. The Scripture tells us, simply, clearly, adequately to all who have eyes to see and ears to hear.

All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correc-tion, for instruction in righteousness. 2 Timothy 3:16.

Scripture is God’s breath. The Word gives to us doctrine (what is right), reproof (what is

not right), correction (how to get it right), and instruction (how to keep it right). Complete, consistent, unequivocal, and incontrovertible, it is the definitive source for everyone who seeks to get right with God. In spite of every clever effort by minions of Satan to attack, corrupt, dilute, and subvert the content, the Scripture has been preserved supernaturally and is opened to us as never before.

Infinitely more than mere recorded knowledge, the Word reveals the heart of God, transports us to His presence, and in the end, physically transforms us into beings that God has intended. When shed with the pure light of the Holy Spirit, it does miraculously come to life—the phrase “liv-ing Word” is no casual idiom.

But we must read it. And reading it is only the beginning. Once introduced to the text, the true journey of meditation, rumination, and gradual revelation begins. Then in a flash, as the pure light does to hologram, the Holy Spirit illuminates the words to reveal multi-faceted insights and beautiful patterns within.

This happens usually when the thoughts one gleaned from the Bible is mixed into the dynamic shifts in his personal life. Chuck Missler often said, trying to comprehend Psalms without the experience of walking the dark valleys and high peaks in life is like describing color to a blind man. Life is the agent that triggers a catalyst of

74

a l o n g t h e w a yt a l k i n g t o g o d

73

comprehension, and at last one can see things from God’s perspective. He will know how to get right with God.

our relationship with fellow travelers

There is something glorious that awaits a man who gets it right with God, right here on earth in this life. He becomes capable of connecting with others like him. The interaction that results is nothing less than magical. In my physically weakened state, I experienced this in a powerful way that surprised me. I realized that every child of God is a treasure, a force, a worthy subject of God’s indescribable love. Together we weave a bullet-proof net that is unlike any other in the Universe: jewels in God’s eyes woven with thread of love. It embodies the final accomplishment of God’s Redemptive Plan: the Church.

Within this luminous network, one is strength-ened, encouraged, and renewed continually. We consider one another: study and ponder each other as fellow heirs and partakers of the eternal life in Christ. We strive continually to provoke unto love and to good works upon one another. Hebrews 10:24

This is a Family unlike any other, capable of defending where an individual would have fallen. Much more than a defensive force alone, it is ca-pable of launching bold assaults into the enemy

territory wherever Gods will directs it. In this impregnable network, we become incomparably more effective agents of goodness, a burning light set on a hill; not a grain, but a mighty mound to salt the earth. In this form, how can we be anything other than the witness to all the world? Our call, not to transform this world, but to res-cue those who are in bondage from the powers of this world, will be accomplished with certainty and power. This is the work that has been in progress since the day the Church was born, that continues to this day. It has withstood every assault that Satan could muster; thrown with such intelligent malice and force. Attacks from within and without, in every shape and form, executed with admirable precision and incessant fury. Yet, here we are. What privilege and unparalleled ad-venture it is to partake and continue in this work? How marvelous and perfect is God’s design? We praise Him.

growing up & growing strong

looking to the finish line

finishing well

And this word, Yet once more, signifieth the removing of those things that are shaken, as of things that are made, that those things which cannot be shaken may remain. Heb 12:27

76

a l o n g t h e w a yt a l k i n g t o g o d

75

ray Park

born august 16, 1959

husband to Alice

father to riley, conrad & adelle

brother to sunha

preceded in death by mark & kay park

follower of christ

inspiration to all

entered glory july 19, 2012

Ray Parks book

Education

Transcript of Ray Parks book