So, clearly, my updating posts have been few and far between. I apologize greatly for that. My summer months were long and arduous. Serving as a LEAD COUNSELOR at Thousand Pines was more unreal than I could’ve imagined. It could’ve been the absolutely terrific staff I was employed to serve, who went above and beyond being true servants, or it could have been the young people who came up, eager to have a good time, but striving to find God amidst His natural creation.
“I’ve been coming up here since I was in elementary school,” reminisced a church counselor from one of the greatest weeks I’ve ever experienced. “So has my father.” I came face to face with the rich heritage and the nostalgia of Thousand Pines, celebrating 70 years of camp ministry. Who would’ve thought the air and dust I inhaled, the crumbling rocks below my feet; all a part of a place God has been using to change lives. Students that committed to serving in youth ministry 20 to 30 years ago, now returned as head pastors and counselors, holding fast to the promises they made long ago. It’s inspiring, and it’s real. I drove down the mountain Sept. 24, knowing that a part of my being was left behind. A place I would never forget, and people that will forever remain in my heart.
God works in mysterious ways.
I awoke Tuesday morning, on CJ’s couch. A place he offered as I no longer rented an apartment to return to. I was officially homeless. The thought continued to stir in my mind as I watched my wet clothes spin around in a commercial dryer at a laundromat in Orange, CA. My zoned out gaze broke as my cellphone rang. I had just received a text that said “someone is going to call u it could be a good opportunity” and now the moment of truth had arrived. Calling me was a nonprofit called LiNK [Liberty in North Korea], who had just procured an open internship when someone dropped out, and my friend had given them my phone number.
I didn’t even know there was a crisis in North Korea, let alone a human rights travesty.
If there was ever a description of a mental whirlwind, the next two days would be considered the epitome of one. I walked into LiNK’s offices just to find out what they were about. Without dressing to impress, without preparing to sweet talk and charm, a conversation to explore their goals turned into a full fledged interview without my permission. I was handed a documentary called “Seoul Train” which follows the journeys of three different groups of North Korean refugees in China attempting to escape oppression and the threat of detainment in concentration camps not unlike those Europe during the Nazi movement. North Korea offered no freedoms, no chances to live as normal human beings. LiNK exists to protect and shelter those escaping North Korea for a better life, and it coordinates a modern day Underground Railroad in China, which shows no mercy to North Korean defectors sending them right back to be permanently detained. LiNK also runs programs that help resettle the refugees in safe countries like the United States or South Korea, providing them with housing, food, and the chance to be culturally educated, learning the language and new lifestyle they can be a part of.
I was faced with a harsh reality, and a decision was soon to be made.
