#you get to be glorified staff without a paycheck

[ramon-balaguer]

Fake Teaching

I used to hear the phrase “false prophet” and imagine a mean guy in a suit jacket, with intimidating eyebrows and maybe a snake-like, forked tongue. False prophets or fake teachers were a big deal and worse than Leftist Liberal Fake News. Manipulators. These fools are Tricksters. Surely, they were obvious—right?

A fake or false teacher is not always an impostor with an evil agenda commanding the stage and presenting a false gospel—there are unfortunately plenty of people in the pulpit today preaching a message they believe to be accurate and from God. There are men out there who believe they are Saved and preach a method of Salvation that’s sadly not in the Bible; like Eternal Salvation or Once Saved Always Saved so they can continue sinning without consequence of ever losing their “Salvation,” or Water Baptism a requirement to be Saved, Speaking in tongues as only evidence of salvation and Holy Spirit filled, wives and children in Heaven now and or later, and the one where everyone will be given an opportunity to be Saved when Jesus returns and no one will go to Hell except Satan and his demons, and even they might end up in Hell after all.. Sad bunch of folks Jesus will quickly reject and they’ll ask why… And there are many teachers claiming to know the Word who don’t know it at all. They’re blind, leading the blind, and they’ll be held accountable for it in the end. “Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness”  (James 3:1).

With all the potential deception abounding, how can we know if we’ve been exposed to false teaching?

Here are five ways to know if you have been raised on false teaching:

1. Phrases you thought were Biblical, aren't. ~I saw an online quiz a few years ago that gave a list of statements, and the reader was supposed to determine if the phrase was Scripture or a common phrase. Quotes like “God helps those who help themselves” and “Cleanliness is next to godliness” and “God will never give you more than you can handle” were just some of the choices that people fell for as Scripture that are actually not in the Bible.I read somewhere that when US Treasury teaches their agents to recognize counterfeit money, they don’t have them study the fake bills—they study the real ones. When you’re familiar with the Truth, the Lies are easier to recognize by default. Christians would do well to enforce this same habit. Through the Holy Spirit study the Word of God and know The Word (Jesus), so when someone makes an inaccurate claim, you can immediately know the truth.“I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against You.” (Psalm 119:11)“

This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success.” (Joshua 1:8)

2. You put more trust in experiences than in the Word of God. ~This is a particularly sticky area, because different denominations tend to place more emphasis on charismatic elements than others, but that doesn’t automatically mean they don’t Believe in the inerrancy and authority of the Word and should be discarded. Be careful what you condemn and write off, just as you should be careful what you take in and believe. Experiencing God is a crucial element of our faith journey. There’s a connection and a relationship we have with God that assures our hearts of our salvation.“

The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with Him in order that we may also be glorified with Him.”  (Romans 8:16-17)

Our walk with God isn’t information only. After all, the Word says that even the demons believe and tremble (James 2:19). They have head knowledge, and head knowledge clearly doesn’t Save one’s soul. We experience God every time we read His Word, every time we pray. And sometimes, God does miracles in our hearts and in the lives of others. Some of these miracles are tangible, some are internal. The act of Salvation itself in every depraved sinner’s heart is a miracle! We experience God!

However, when we start to trust someone’s experience over what the Word says, we get in trouble quick. If a pastor or teacher claims to have heard from the Lord, especially about you and your future, be careful what you believe. Test it. And if that pastor or teacher claims the Lord told them something that is contrary to the Bible, you can be certain it is false.

“Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world. By this you know the Spirit of God: every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is from God, and every spirit that does not confess Jesus is not from God. This is the spirit of the antichrist, which you heard was coming and now is in the world already.”  (1 John 4:1-3)

3. You don’t question anything. ~ In some denomination, this was a sign of a “good girl or boy” Good boys didn’t question the pastor or girls ask questions at all. They listened, took notes, and believed every word that was spoken from the pulpit as solid gold and infallible Truth. There was no need to go read the Bible and find out for yourself, because you were “a good boy and girl.”

One of the reasons I left the church I attended for several years as a (much younger) adult was because the pastor occasionally tried to present his opinion as scriptural. The topic in question was a controversial one among Believers, but instead of pointing that out and encouraging each Believer to seek the Lord in this area for themselves, he proclaimed his position and opinion as authoritatively Biblical. It broke my trust in his interpretation and exposition of the Word and ended up an atheist for most of my young adult life that eventually dibbled and dabbled into mysticism, spiritualism, magic, Mormonism, Islam, etc… before giving my life back to Jesus Christ. We should certainly have a measure of trust for our pastor and leaders in the church, but it’s also good and right to check their words against the Word of God. A solid pastor would encourage you to do so, and to correct him when in err.

4. Your church is too concerned with numbers and budgets. ~ Unlike military chapels, churches require income to keep the lights on and provides salaries for the staff and their families—there’s nothing wrong with that. But even in chapels, when budget meetings take priority over sharing the Gospel, and numbers in the pew take priority over disciplining souls, you can bet that's a Big red flag. Too many pastors today lead lavish lifestyles that place possessions and worldly gain over their flock.

1 Timothy lists the qualifications of an overseer, or a pastor, quite plainly:

"The saying is trustworthy: If anyone aspires to the office of overseer, he desires a noble task. Therefore an overseer must be above reproach, the husband of one wife, sober-minded, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach not a drunkard, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money. He must manage his own household well, with all dignity keeping his children submissive, for if someone does not know how to manage his own household, how will he care for God's church? He must not be a recent convert, or he may become puffed up with conceit and fall into the condemnation of the devil."  (1 Timothy 3:1-6)

This obviously does not mean that any pastor who lives in a nice house or drives a decent car is a false teacher. Far from it—the Bible allows enjoying the fruits of one’s labor. However, there is a discernible difference between the pastor whose heart is for giving, and the one whose heart is focused on his paycheck and wealth and notoriety building.

5. Your church tries really hard to "sell" the gospel. ~ When the emphasis on meeting quotas to provide financially is so high, it only serves to pressure the staff to create a “more appealing” gospel to bring people through the doors. Why do you think so many churches today rely on fog machines, light shows, Broadway-talented worship singers, and coffee bars to rival Starbucks? or an actual Starbucks in the church (talk about oxymoron). There’s nothing innately wrong with any of those things individually, but when the heart of the church is beating to the tune of a performance rather than having the Gospel speak for Itself, something is amiss.

When the church believes they have to pretty up, go "Hollywood" and “sell” Christ, rather than simply presenting the Word of God and making way for the Holy Spirit to do what only He can do, there’s something very wrong. Only God can Save. The role of a pastor is to exposit the Word of God, not imply that it isn’t sufficient.There are certainly more signs than just these on identifying false teachers and false gospels, but this is a start on learning to recognize the red flags of false doctrine. The more you stay in the Word of God, the easier it will be to see even the more subtle hints of false teachings that exist today.

Fake News is relatively new and harmless compared to fake or False prophets, pastors and teachers teaching False Doctrines and personal beliefs in the war between Good and Evil.  #REBTD

[ted-hyung]

nielwink hitman au (I enjoy your writing a lot!! honestly it doesnt have to be hitman au but nielwink is all I need)

anon-sshi i, forthe love of god, am too mild for hitman!au. here, have a 2.5k fluffy bodyguard!auinstead.

feat. another thug!daehwi, lame bodyguards, jihoon being a teenager, a girl group member, glorified age AND size-difference, all the good stuffs for sunday. plz comment, likes, and reblogs, tell your friends about my fics etc ʕ – ㉨ – ʔ ʕ – ㉨ – ʔ ʕ – ㉨ – ʔ

also tagging le queen @6ungjin tell me whachu think imma on a roll.

one of the newbodyguards looks like a big dog. no. an overgrownpuppy. oh my god, jihoon thinks, ashe hides a grin behind his hands and steals another glance at the man who isso, so big and wide. his glaring ash blonde hair further convinces jihoon thathe’s a… samoyed puppy? or maybe a golden retriever? ugh, especially when hesmiles and his eyes disappear like he just demonstrated over somethingjisung-hyung says. the apples of his chubby cheeks aren’t helping his cute appearance at all! he doesn’t looklike a bodyguard no matter how much black attires he’s wearing from head totoe! jihoon is weak for cute things!

“bro, controlyourself,” daehwi hisses from his left. he’s speaking without moving his lips,a talent that he’s mastered for variety show appearances but actually comes inhandy at situations like these. everyone’s been picking up his talent andchecking out girl group members are easier nowadays god bless lee daehwi andthe entire k-pop industry.

“what the fuck?”jihoon hisses back, coughing a little to cover up his never-ending grin andmostly his portrayed image as this aegyo machine who’s just oh so pure and innocent—not the foul-mouthed prettyboy he really is.

“you’repractically vibrating,” daehwi says while pretending to look down to his phone.“he’s cute, i know. i want to hug him too. but seriously control yourself.don’t scare him away on his first day.”

“shut up itagged him first.”

“no, you’renot.”

on his right,jinyoung hisses at them as he opens a bag of potato chips loudly, “guys,please. just share him, we still have dongho-hyung, remember?”

daehwi hums,acknowledging his slip. dongho-hyung is their favorite bodyguard who’scurrently on leave due to sickness—lies,they know he got knocked over by a horde of fangirls with folding chairs andexpensive cameras when they were at incheon airport last week—thus the reasonwhy management is hiring two new bodyguards in the name of kang daniel(jihoon’s, thank you very much), and im youngmin, a smiley but tall and just aswide, if not wider, man with red hairand huge hands.

now, don’t getthem teenage boys wrong. living the lush life of being an idol can be lonely;they stutter when they try to talk to any girl groups and they can’t reallymake friends with another boy group since they’re still new, the still need toestablish a solid fanbase before worrying about befriending their literal‘rivals’. they—jihoon, daehwi, jinyoung, samuel, and euiwoong aka boy’sgeneration, the nation’s hottest idol to date—are all lucky to have a superhilarious manager-hyung slash talkative uncle who takes a good care of him.jisung-hyung was once a trainee who got denied his chance to debut thrice, andvowed to be a good manager to every groups he’s managed and he did. boy’sgeneration saw with their own eyes how red velvet girl group members, yes, the red velvet from sm entertainment,always flock around jisung-hyung like he’s their mama bird every time theyhappen to run into each other in music shows recording because he was theirmanager for a long, long time before he got transferred to manage boy’sgeneration.

anyway, besidesjisung-hyung, they also have kind-hearted stylist noonas and hairstylist noonasto talk to in between hectic schedules. choreographer-hyungs and don’t forgetcafeteria staffs.

and then there’sdongho-hyung and his team.

real men in suits with muscles, notjisung-hyung and his bb cream compact but don’t tell jisung-hyung that or elsethey will be denied late night sneaky snacks.

okay, so! realmen! because dongho-hyung is menacingwith the sides of his head shaved and cool tattoos, lots of them! he doesn’tshave and doesn’t moisturize at night! euiwoong once looked him up on naversearch and found that he had black belt in taekwondo and got an honorable medalfrom the navy because he helped rescuing a north korean refugee from drowningat the yellow sea. wow, right? daehwieven talks about him a lot on interviews, saying that he aspires to be as manly as one of boy’s generationbodyguards so please wait for me blooming as a real man a little bit longer,guys, saranghae~

daehwimonopolizes dongho-hyung all by himself whenever they have a vacation, sittingnext to him in the plane and clinging to dongho-hyung’s thick arms as they tryto swim across beastly fangirls waiting for them at the airport. dongho-hyunghas three people with him, all looking like they can kill with their gaze butis actually a sap. there’s wonshik-hyung who talks too fast, gets confused bywhat he says, and teasing him is boy’s generation favorite pastime. next, theyhave taekwoon-hyung; the quietest, the scariest, but also the sweetest when itcomes to tending any of boy’s generation needs. he’s got a soft spot forjinyoung who blurts out random nonsense at times that never fails to crack himup, and jinyoung even introduced taekwoon-hyung to his cousin-noona. the lastone in the bodyguard team is shinwoo-hyung, an actual bear personified. he’ssquishy and wide, sleeps a lot, and lets samuel and euiwoong braid his longhair.

jihoon is closeto all of them, but he wants one just for himself. kang daniel seems like agood candidate because im youngmin looks like he’ll be strict despite hisoverall soft-looking appearance.

ʕ – ㉨ – ʔ

nothing majorhappens.

daniel-hyung, asit turns out, is a dork. he’s a big fan of harry potter the series and he anddaehwi are bonding over their favorite book; harry potter and the goblet offire. he speaks english too, and if jihoon is a lesser man—boy—he would havehidden all of daehwi’s shoe lifts because daehwi’s been looking so smug afterhe talks to daniel-hyung about finding nemo or other american stuffs jihoondoesn’t really care. youngmin-hyung, true to his prediction, is the gentlestand smartest and prefers to tutor them instead of fully doing their mathhomework (shinwoo-hyung did it before but their grades didn’t actuallyskyrocketed ha ha ha).

jihoon is bored.

he’s recording apopular eating show alone today as a special guest alongside a girl groupmember who made jihoon’s heart skipped a beat the first time he got a good lookof her smooth, long legs clad only in a pair of pastel pink colored tennisskirt. she’s super nice, not overly friendly or even touchy with boyish cutblack hair and orange tinted lips, but jihoon can’t afford to be comfortablewith an opposite gender now. probably not ever until they’re years into keepingboy’s generation relevant.

jisung-hyungcan’t go with him because the rest of the members are filming an openingsegment for their newest variety show, boy’sgeneration 101, that jihoon had filmed prior this schedule. daniel-hyunggot assigned to accompany him instead and he’s being chummy with the girl’smanager-noona, both standing underneath the shade of the years old oak treejust across the road, looking like a movie star with a simple black polo shirtand black bermuda pants. jihoon notices that daniel-hyung’s calves are just assmooth as the girl’s and he chokes on a quiet laughter.

“hi.”

jihoon yelps,and the girl apologizes for startling him.

“no no, it’sokay,” jihoon splutters, standing up from the plastic chair he’s sitting. he’sjust barely a couple of inches taller than her and it’s making him sad. “hi.hello.”

the girl,ahreum, smiles and it’s not a flirty kind of smile. jihoon hopes he doesn’thave a chili stuck in between his teeth or something when smiles back at her.

ahreum says,“the PD-nim told me we’ll be back filming in ten minutes.”

“right, whew. ican’t wait to have the dessert to be honest,” jihoon nods, thanking the godsthat his stutter isn’t as severe as samuel that foolish maknae. “um. what wasyour favorite dish?”

“i loveeverything,” ahreum giggles, “i just love seafood so much. you’re allergic toshrimps, right?”

they’re filming,you guess it right, in busan. it’s dongho, daniel, and youngmin-hyung’shometown. jihoon is not even a big fan of seafood but at least he could enjoyeverything else that wasn’t shrimp. the dessert is some unique flavor, homemadeice cream. jihoon loves sweets and he’s going to eat a lot because jisung-hyungis not here with him to watch his sugar intake. the agency told him to lose acouple of weights because he looks bloated lately. it’s the goddamn chocolatebars jihoon bought on impulse the last time he got his paycheck. tch.

“are youthirsty?” ahreum asks, “let’s go to 7-11 just down the road. i’ll treat youcola.”

as much asjihoon loves cola, he can’t have it due to his sugar diet. “can i have pocarisweat instead?”

ahreum nods,smiling. she’s pretty. “anything you want.”

jihoon tellshimself not to blush like a pre-pubescent boy. “um, wait here. i have to telldaniel-hyung,” he says, putting his hands in the pockets of his sponsored denimshorts.

ahreum looksover to where her manager and daniel-hyung are still talking, and comments,“your bodyguard, right? he’s really handsome.”

jihoon, in lieuof snorting in annoyance, blurts out, “he’s a dork tho.”

“still.”

yeah, well.

daniel-hyung iscrossing his arms on his chest; they’re bulging heavily unlike jihoon’stwig-like ones. he doesn’t wear any makeup but his skin is flawless and jihoonenvies him for sweating freely, while he has to be careful not to smear his bbcream away whenever he dabs his sweat with tissues. daniel-hyung smiles whenjihoon approaches near, and the manager-noona greets him politely.

“ahreum and iare going to the 7-11,” jihoon says, “do you want something, hyung?”

daniel-hyung’sanswer is immediate, “i’ll go with you.”

ooo…kay?

jihoon frowns.“it’s just down the road,” he waves a hand to the general direction of theroad, even though truthfully he hasn’t seen a 7-11 near the dessert house.

daniel-hyungtilts his head, a very cute habit that makes him look more and more like anovergrown puppy. if only he’s not being annoying right now, jihoon would havebeen squealing. in his head.

but he’s beingannoying right now.

“right,whatever.” jihoon mumbles and makes a u-turn, and he hears a loud horn ananosecond before he realizes he’s being held back by daniel-hyung’s strong andheavy arms. someone curses out loud but jihoon’s ears are ringing with howdeafening his heartbeats are. he wasn’t looking and he almost got hit by aspeeding motorcycle, all because he thought daniel-hyung, who saved his life,was being annoying for wanting to go to 7-11 with him and ahreum.

…

daniel-hyungsmells like baby powder.

“jihoon! are youokay?!” that’s ahreum, eyes as big as saucers as she runs towards him but notbefore looking both ways for any vehicles. jihoon gets a glance of the eatingshow crew in a various state of shock, and daniel-hyung is still holding him upwith gentle hands because jihoon doesn’t think he can stand upright without ahelp anyway.

“ahjusshi, is heokay?” ahreum asks, addressing daniel-hyung formally. weirdly. daniel-hyung is only twenty seven years old, exactly tenyears older than jihoon but his birthday is on december. he’s an oppa, really,not ahjusshi.

…

did jihoon tellyou already that daniel-hyung smells like baby powder? because he really does.

“he’s alright,he’s fine,” daniel-hyung sighs, softly, like he doesn’t want to spook jihoonmore if he speaks in a normal tone. “jihoon-ah? can you hear me?” he asks,carefully maneuvering jihoon in his arms, cupping jihoon’s face with his gentlehands that smells like milk. probably his hand cream.

jihoon blinks atthe question, and a tear falls.

ahreum makes adistressed sound as daniel-hyung envelopes him in a hug. he’s so warm, sogenerous with how he strokes jihoon’s hair to reassure him that he’s stillhere, safe and sound. jihoon wraps his arms around daniel-hyung’s torso, nailsdigging onto the fabric and the thickness of daniel-hyung’s skin, vaguelyrecalling whispers from ahreum and her manager-unnie and soon enough the PD-nim’sconsolation that they will hold the filming until jihoon recovers from hisshock. jihoon wants to go home. he wants to curl up on his bed with hisfavorite polar bear plushy and a bar of dark chocolate cadbury. he wants toerase his makeup and sleep with a clay mask he got from his fans. but mostimportantly, he doesn’t want daniel-hyung to let him go.

ʕ – ㉨ – ʔ

nothing majorhappens after that.

it takes jihoonapproximately a week and a half to get back to his old self, to get over thehumiliation of his own childish view of life that almost cost him his life or aleg or worse; his face. daniel-hyungnever brings up the issue and he seems to pay more attention to jihoon eversince. he volunteers to accompany jihoon on his next personal schedule and he’salways the first to reply to jihoon’s question on their group chat, actuallycoming over with a bag of cheetos when jihoon jokingly asked for it, summerthunderstorm be damned.

he looks like awet, overgrown puppy as he shows up on the front door and jihoon pouts, whiningand pulling him inside where it’s warm and jisung-hyung just cooked spaghettiand kimchi soup.

“i’m sorry!”jihoon squeals as he runs to his room to get towels. euiwoong is eyeing himfrom the top bunk, one earphone dangling as he monitors their latest music bankperformance like a good leader he is.

“are you talkingto me?” euiwoong asks.

“no,daniel-hyung is here. he brought cheetos!”

“what the…”euiwoong sits up. “cheetos that you asked on group chat? and what are youdoing?”

“towels! can iborrow yours? i’ll laundry it tomorrow.”

“bottom shelf.”

jihoon grabs twowhite towels embroidered in his and euiwoong’s initials—the perks of livingwith four other boys and one adult in one apartment, they can’t risk sharinggerms thus the territorial towels—and runs back to the front door wheredaniel-hyung is laughing at something jisung-hyung says.

“yah, thisbrat!” jisung-hyung scolds jihoon, but he’s helping daniel-hyung pattinghimself dry. “and you! you didn’t think to use any umbrella or what?”

“i was alreadyout,” daniel-hyung sniffs, concentrating on his hair. “thanks, jihoon-ah.”

jihoon nods,tongue-tied mostly because he was just joking about craving cheetos yet herethey are.

jisung-hyungclaps his hands. “oh, right! how was the date?”

daniel-hyunglaughs and tells them that she ditched him. jisung-hyung gasps, scandalized,and proceeds to rant about how dare she to passover someone as hot as kang daniel! and daniel-hyung laughs again, hiswhole body shaking with the mirth.

…

um.

what?

what was that?

why did jihoon’sheart skip a beat at the sight? is he for real?he’s seen daniel-hyung laughs multiple times before! why now, park jihoon, why?!

[mattkeepsrambling]

Mental Check In

Its been a stressful few months for me. I left a job I loved and took one that has not been as rewarding. I've gone through a whole gamut of emotions. I've regretted my decision a lot, I've had days where I have seriously thought about leaving the profession, I've had days where I've thought maybe this place isn't so bad and there have been days when I've just wanted to walk out and not come back. I needed to do a check in with myself. So here it goes. The Family Help Center was the most rewarding job I have ever had. It was emotionally, physically, and mentally challenging. I left there drained and exhausted, but so fulfilled. I was challenged and solved problems that you couldn't even imagine. The problem was that it was not how I felt during the school-age program. I hated that part of my job-genuinely hated it. In the end, I could not leave school-age without also leaving UPK. It was the decision I had to make, and I miss that UPK class like you wouldn't believe. I do not miss a single school-age kid, well, maybe one: she was pretty great. My new UPK class is less rewarding than my old one. They are a great group, but I'm not feeling with I had with my FHC group. When it comes to my school age group, things are much better. I have more of them (18 as opposed to 7 or 8), but these kids are pretty great. So while I am missing something in my UPK class, my school age experience is much better. But here is the thing. I am done being a glorified babysitter. That is what the after-school program is. When BPS is off, that is what I become. I have parents drop their kid off at 11 AM because that is what I am to them. Some place to bring their kid when they don't want to deal with them. I have a damn Masters degree. That is not why I got it. It's disrespectful to me, and I am done feeling that. The other thing is that I am done being an hourly employee. I do a lot of work outside the billable work day that it feels like I'm volunteering my time when I lesson plan at home. At this point, my current job has not earned that yet. FHC did, and I did a ton of work (lesson planning 3 out of 5 nights, getting to work 30-45 min before my shift to do work). I want a salary and to not worry about how my paycheck will be impacted if I leave 30 min early (because all my kids are gone) or go home sick-which I did and lost 2 and a half hours worth of pay. What is keeping me sane and clam right now is that my break is from 2-3 PM. UPK leaves at 2, and I go on break. I take a walk, get food, or do some supply shopping at Walgreens or Dollar General. Then I come back to work, and by that time the first bus has already arrived and when I clock back in, the school-age day has begun. It's a great mental break for me, and it allows me to get in the mindset of school age. I didn't have that three months ago, and it was a part of my downfall. It's the corporateness of my current job that I cannot stand. Its all about appearances and what is said rather than done. All the feedback I have gotten is how my classroom looks rather than what goes on in it. I came into this classroom to replace a teacher who got promoted to the center director, and I feel like I am paying for things she did. My easel is covered in paint and was when I got the job yet now it is my job to get it clean. It has never been cleaned and has layers and layers of paint on it. Because someone else didn't clean it, I have to deal with it. We are required to wear a uniform to look more professional. I get that. But its a facade. I am left out of ratio all the time. My assistant leaves the room all the time, leaving me with 10-15 kids (state ratio is 8:1). And where does she go when she leaves the room? Many times its to talk to the director. Or to another classroom-which requires walking right past the director's office. She takes a lot of time off and is known to call in the day after her requested time off, and it is treated like it's just what she does. It even has happened when high members from corporate are there and nothing. It's not a battle worth fighting for me, but it pisses me off none the less. School Age ratio is 11:1, and I have been alone with 21 kids before. But again, this is treated as no big deal. It is just beyond frustrating. And on top of all that I am not feeling much support from the admins. We had a mother's day tea recently, and it was a hectic day of preparing for that. One of my kids brought in cupcakes for his birthday, and I never got to serve them. I did not have the opportunity to explain to her why, I was doing my school age duties (out of ratio), and it slipped my mind to offer to do it on Monday. All I got from the director was, and I quote, "She's pissed." My previous director would have been more on my side. She would have understood that the day was busy and explained that to the angry parent. When something comes up, that affects my classroom. She is not the one to tell me. Usually, she tells my assistant, or I find out from another teacher class. We have had a lot on enrichment activities recently, and I feel so out of the loop as to when some of these are. I find out the morning of what time my class is going. This means I have to do my least favorite things; kill time with a class full of 4-year-olds. I've never been at a center where there is fantastic communication between admin and staff, but this is by far the worst. I guess what it comes down to is that while I love what I do, I hate where I do it.

[cwkrp]

have a little imagination, will you?

INTRODUCING   son minsik, he/him, 12/04/97 COURSING   ba in applied cinema, third year AFFILIATION   crux ANNOTATIONS   n/a

a note from the past.

TOKEN.

He always remembers it a bit differently, always slightly altered, something he blames on the years of revising his childhood during therapy sessions. It’s always either too hot or too cold, moral ground shifting. His mother says that all that is tangible is indirectly a threat. A knife protruding from his back is only a problem if he bleeds all over the place. The thing about misplacing truths is that he doesn’t know if it will unfurl like the long lines of yawn his mother winds through her knitting needle gauge. He can’t measure the scale of trauma stretching across decades of syrupy boyhood. Doesn’t even know if its an accurate inner image.

It is just, if anything, a color coded concept for the convenience of the set dressers.

One thing he knows is that his father never quite contented with his lack of an independent shape. So he had him stripped of agency, showcasing family tree anxieties in the form of rigorous method acting.

There are several unimportant things to note about Son Minsik’s filmography: it’s a short list, with a total of three entries, one of which is a glorified cameo; It’s genre consistent, with all of his projects having been leaning toward neorealism, with heavy grainy overlays and desaturated colors; And all of them have him die increasingly gruesome deaths.

(Sometimes, and he wonders if it’s the root of the problem, he can’t picture himself alive.)

His father becomes notorious for treating his actors horribly. Especially his son, who plays the main antagonist in a well received trilogy. Which relies more on surrealist themes than qualitative storytelling. But nothing can quite compare to the influx of strongly worded accusations that overwhelm his studio, when a crew member gets laid off and collects their next paycheck from tabloids. ‘Child abuse’ is featured in tacky newspaper headlines that are often difficult to distance from the body of works that feature explicit death scenes with a child front center.

[ DIRECTOR SON CHUL JANG (39) ALLEGEDLY MISTREATING SON AND CHILD ACTOR SON MINSIK (8), STAFF MEMBER CLAIMS ]

He doesn’t remember the press conference, or the microphones being shoved in his face. But he remembers clearly, almost vividly the way his father had trashed their living room, and then turned to him and said that it was somehow his fault. He should just drop dead. He doesn’t compare to all the dead little Minsiks before him who didn’t make it out of his mother’s womb alive. He can’t do anything right.

He shouldn’t be alive.

Yeah, maybe he shouldn’t be.

GROWTH.

In a way, it’s always going to be 2003.

There’s some narrative quality to the way he keeps to artificial constraints, not exactly there, yet exhausting like connecting xanax induced conflicts. He composes a list, because that’s what he always does. Things he wants his audience to know. Things he doesn’t want his audience to know. Things that aren’t important.

He’s unsure where to take it, where to house information.

He shoots short movies that star nothing but landscapes, water, flowers, useless cinematography that holds no spiritual weight. Hair clogging the shower drain likes clumps of memory that he has no use for, accompanied by a heavy bass intro that he mixes together on a shitty DAW.

No one watches movies lacking substance. No one watches boring flicks.

There’s this never ending cycle he’s forced into, that has him trying to catch up to his father, and to a lesser extent his mother. Maybe it’s a form of a misguided, overt cry for attention. Every second counted by 120 frames is just him trying to fill the frame with confessions. Gestures. Every open window is skin being pulled. 34 mm of focal length up close and personal. His father doesn’t trust him. That’s why he’s spent more of his childhood in boarding schools than at home, fed psychotropics throughout to keep him comfortably numb. Always barely hanging on, sedated to the point of passivity.

Sometimes he films himself talking until his throat caves in.

It boils down to this: An onslaught of expectations that eats at his consciousness. He’s trying so desperately to be like his father. Long Takes for everything, close ups on nothing, scenes in nonsequential order so he doesn’t have to make sense of it.

He’s not making sense.

In a way, he’s still eight, nine, sobbing uncontrollably in front of a camera, holding up bloodied palms and confessing to fictional crimes he is unable to separate from his person.

Maybe one day he’ll grow out of it.

a color for the present.

GREEN.

As most things are, love, in a household with a net worth of over $700 million, is seen as a commodity. His mother equates time to affection, and limits what she gives away of herself. A succession of vaguely whimsical moments in terms of front-page photos on a tabloid. Barely enough to not seem like a negligent mother, but not enough to make a significant impact as a supposedly nurturing figure. She has her publishing house to care for, social events to attend, friendships to maintain. A son, as much as he’d been wanted after two miscarriages, wasn’t supposed to be more than an afterthought.

It’s an attitude that translates over to the way she treats his interests. A dismissive nod, a belittling pat on the head, an expensive suit he gets to wear to a gala. She prefers to flaunt his achievements rather than acknowledging him as a her son. He’s an award winning actor (it doesn’t matter than he hasn’t been able to stand in front of a camera without going hysterical since the early 2000s), he’s a talented director (even if his short films are tedious to watch at best and pretentious at worst), he’s attending seoho! (and has managed to assault school staff in a fit of misplaced anger).

In the corny sitcoms he loves, mothers are always warm, pliant, caring. A suicide attempt earns a sympathetic response. A rebellious outburst earns an attempt to understand, reconciling childish whims. Mothers cry, coo, coddle. Mothers defend their children. Mothers accept and embrace the good with the bad.

His mother can’t. But he can’t be the perfect son, either.

BLUE.

“I want you to know that you can be honest with me, okay?” The social worker is nice, with evenly applied make up and shiny hair. His father is always making him buzz his head, offering no real explanation as for why. His mother standing behind him has a steady grip on his shoulders, nails pressing carefully down on his sweater. “I am here to ask you some questions. There’s no need to feel nervous or scared.” He’d tell her that he doesn’t really know what fear is supposed to feel like, but the even weight of his mother is making him feel self-conscious, so he nods instead.

“Last week, one of your father’s colleagues– I’m sure you know him, Kang Duri– has accused your father of mistreating you.” His mother’s fingers furl into his sweater and he can feel his collar growing snug. “He told us that your father often hurt you during filming. Is that true?”

His mother’s hands grow closer to his neck and go slack when she speaks up, “Those are frankly ludicrous accusations. My husband has always been a loving father to my son.” She made him wear a thick sweater in mid July because he’s covered in bruises. She sounds whiny, nasal. Maybe she’s having a panic attack. He knows about those.

The social worker looks apologetic, “I understand that this might be very difficult for you, ma’am. But there’s evidence to back these allegations up, which is why I’m here.” She’s so polite, sitting on one of his mother’s hideous kitschy loveseats, foundation blended down to her neck.

“Minsik, tell her that your father’s never done anything to you.” He can’t see his mother, but he can imagine what her face looks like. A ghostly paleness contrasting her black designer one piece. If anything, it’s always been about her. His whole life. Even at eight, sitting opposite someone who might actually be able to help.

But his mother would be sad. And he wants so much to please her.

“My father is a good father.” It’s not exactly the truth, but it’s an inoffensive statement.

When the social worker’s gone he’s left to himself, trying to ignore the sweat accumulating under his sweater, hands wet and sticky. He guesses, if he were to put a name to the uncomfortable, heavy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, it’d be disappointment.

Now, almost thirteen years later, he wishes he’d said the truth.  

[annietipton]

Friends and Family,

Last year I celebrated 10 years at the company I work for. A decade. 120 months. 3,650 days. 29,200 hours on the clock. (1,752,000 seconds, in case you’re wondering about the math on that one.)

I’m thankful to say that I love my job. In addition to a paycheck, personal satisfaction, fulfilling working relationships, and professional challenges, after 10 years of service I gained an extra week of paid vacation. Sweet. An extra week at the beach? Sign me up.

But God poked my heart a bit—asking me to think about reserving part or all of this extra week for service to Him. He may not call me every year, but I felt His Spirit asking me to be willing and open to the possibility. So I started praying for an opportunity.

And then in early 2017, Deb got up in front of church and I knew He was speaking through her, directly to me. She and her husband, Adam, would lead a group to Mexico in July to offer help with a week of church camp put on by Vida Nueva (“New Life” in Spanish) Ministries in Piedras Negras, Mexico. It’s an organization and a place that our church has sent many teams over the years, and my heart beat faster as Deb gave a 30-second spiel about the trip.

I couldn’t wait till after the service to sign up. I walked out of the auditorium to the Welcome Center as Deb prayed before the offering and sermon and scrawled my name and email address on the top line of the sheet.

And now, 48 hours after returning from the trip, I am still in awe of the experience that God gave me. He went before me. He stood beside me. He returned with me. And I believe He allowed me to experience a tiny taste of what eternity with Him will be some day. I am changed for the better in so many ways.

First, I want to thank you. For your financial support. For your interest in the trip. For your prayers. For your specific prayers on specific days. I felt them. We as a mission team felt them. The camp staff and campers felt them:

·         Your prayers kept us safe in a country where safety isn’t guaranteed.

·         Your prayers kept us united in mind and in spirit.

·         Your prayers helped us form deep bonds that never would’ve formed otherwise.

·         Your prayers kept our planes on time, our connections made, our van trucking down the highway.

·         Your prayers helped us cross the border (both ways) without incident.

·         Your prayers kept us in good health.

·         Your prayers kept us encouraged and upbeat.

·         Your prayers helped us rest (or thrive on little rest).

·         Your prayers helped us connect with people who spoke little or no English.

·         Your prayers brought us back rejuvenated in body, mind, and spirit.

·         Your prayers helped us be a light in a world different than our own.

 We are humbled by your prayers, and I am so thankful to consider you part of my mission team.

The team from First Christian Church included 10 people—the oldest at 74, the youngest at 13, and the rest of us at varying decades between. Other than the teammates who are related to each other, the rest of us weren’t much more than acquaintances. You know who I mean. . .the people at church that you know by name and can say hi on a Sunday morning but haven’t had a real conversation with.

It took a mere 24 hours of travel and living with my team to realize that they were my people. God gave us a spirit of love and camaraderie unlike any that I’ve ever experienced.

Don’t get me wrong. We are all very different people. Varying ages, stages in life, personalities… Dover vs. New Phila (all in good fun)…but God blessed us with unity. With understanding. With an uncanny love of just being together and hanging out. I laughed more last week than I have laughed in the past year. (And that’s a lot of laughing, because I tend to find humor in everyday life.)

We worked together. We played together. We played with campers together. We ate together. We laughed. . .and laughed. . .and laughed. We studied scripture together. We prayed together. We slept in very tight quarters and took turns in a single shower. And we loved every minute of it.

We arrived at Vida Nueva on Saturday evening, and we got to experience church Sunday morning at the church next door. A good 90% of the service was in Spanish. The thing I loved most was the singing and seeing the lyrics on the screen. I took 3 years of Spanish in high school, so there were several words and phrases that I could translate. Although none of the songs were familiar to me, I sang about the freedom I have through the blood of Christ. I sang the promise that God takes away my fear. I sang for God to be glorified. I celebrated His promise of eternal life. In Spanish.

Camp started on Monday morning when 60 kids ages 5-12 arrived at the camp. The theme of the week was “Jesús es mi superheroé” (Jesus is my superhero), and the verse of the week was Juan (John) 3:16.

Part of my week was spent prepping and painting classrooms for the semester that will start at the school in a few weeks. There were 4 of us—all who happened to be 30-somethings—who became the painting crew. All-in-all we completed 4 large classrooms during the week. And we had a blast doing it. Maybe it was the paint fumes or the old-school Christian music (think Supertones and Audio Adrenaline) or the worship music that we sang at the top of our lungs. But it was also the hours of conversation in the midst of hard work—kneeling and climbing ladders and rolling and sweating and trying to stay hydrated—that bonded me to Renée, Jason, and Kris.

The other part of the week I got to work with kids in a couple of the camp classes—woodworking and crafts. Renée and I experienced a day and a half in a large, echo-ey classroom filled with about 20 kids hammering nails into boards. It was like a Mexican Santa’s Workshop with more sweat and fewer candy canes and cocoa. In my normal life, I legitimately may have put one of the hammers through my own skull just to make the noise stop, but there was something calming (and ridiculous—Renée and I laughed through the chaos) about the whole thing. We found joy in every task and in every moment we could.

Wednesday Deb asked us to lead her class for the day—crafts. So the 4 of us on the painting crew (with the help of the teenage Mexican leaders to translate) worked with kids to use fabric markers to color superhero-themed headbands and tiny superhero figures out of clothespins. The kids had a blast, and we did, too.

The food we ate at camp was mostly amazing and sometimes a little weird. I tried cactus for the first time, and I’d always choose the picante (spicy) option if we were given an option by the cooks. Some on our team were EXTREME lightweights in the spicy department, but I found the spice to be really delicious. Although, to be fair, they do tone it down a bit since they’re feeding kids. One lunch that was particularly strange included a side of pasta that was a mix of Chef-Boyardee ravioli, Spaghetti-os, and other types of similar noodles in sauce. I was hungry and it was good.

We got to meet and interact with so many of the kids and adult staff, and it was a blessing to be with them and help in whatever way we could. John used his skills and talent as an electrician to install new lighting in the campus’s outdoor gym. Adam helped manage and orchestrate detailed woodworking projects that the kids loved making and will hang on their walls at home for years. Deb and Donna helped the campers create fun and interesting crafts that they will cherish. Bailey (13) helped with childcare, was Adam’s shadow and helped him with lots of odd jobs, and her dry/deadpan sense of humor kept us laughing all week. We gave Ty (15) a hard time, saying that he didn’t work all week, but he did. He made connections with the kids and other teenage leaders that none of us adults could have. Jason was the big, fun, and goofy Americano that all the kids loved. Kris’s quiet, hardworking, patient, kind demeanor, and ever-present smile encouraged everyone around him. And Renée’s warm hugs and infectious laugh were freely given to campers throughout the week.

I am so blessed to call them friends.

I have a notebook full of my memories that I recorded throughout camp, and I will be happy to tell you more when I see you. But for now and for the end of this update, I want to leave you with something that God revealed to me mid-week:

We live in a fallen world. There is darkness, poverty, sin, pain, sadness, and despair all around. As believers, we know the end game—God will redeem this world when Jesus comes again, and we look forward to that day. But for a moment—for a week in the middle of July—God, in His great love for me, allowed me to glimpse a shadow of heaven. Of joyfully working for Him. Of unity with believers with white skin and darker skin. Of living in, radiating, and reflecting His love.

What a privilege. What an honor that He gives us opportunities to see that glimpse of eternity.

If you have served on a short-term mission—in the US, at a church camp, outside our borders, overseas—you understand what I’m talking about. If you have never taken the step out of your comfort zone to serve, I urge you to listen for God’s call. Don’t wait for heaven. Get the taste on your tongue and in your spirit now.

Tú hermana en Cristo (Your sister in Christ),

Annie

Every time I think of you, I give thanks to my God.  Whenever I pray, I make my requests for all of you with joy, for you have been my partners in spreading the Good News about Christ from the time you first heard it until now. And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns. Philippians 1:3–6 NLT

P.S. If you’d like to see more pictures and videos from the trip, you can find one at: https://youtu.be/i46s64GQzLY

 Follow Vida Nueva on Facebook and find even more pictures and videos from the week: https://www.facebook.com/vidanuevaministries/