Blurbs From Eunee's Mind (and Life)

  One of my favorite places and favorite memories of Lebanon - from last summer. 

I once read this article that Anderson Cooper wrote about how parents still hold power over us no matter how old we get. I really enjoyed it because he so adeptly captured it all. I laughed and nodded while reading this. And then I wondered how he could do that? I mean, he comes from a wealthy family, wealthy and Caucasian. (If you don't know about Anderson Cooper, do a Google search on him. He has a show on CNN.) Yet surprisingly, we could relate to what he was saying - we meaning my 2nd generation Korean-American friends and myself with working class parents. And here I am, at age 30, still experiencing those parental controls that I thought I could throw off after my 20s. Apparently, that's just a myth. Sometimes it's just terrible - of me, really, not my parents. No matter how my parents try to let go of controls, I guess as long as I'm their daughter those controls will always be there, attached by invisible strings that get yanked once in a while. I, on the other

I wonder what it was like for Abraham to heed God's calling to leave everything he knew and go somewhere else - a foreign land and a foreign situation. Basically, he was going from the known to the unknown. He was settled, married, and probably comfortable where he was. But on a promise from God, he uprooted himself and his wife and left. He didn't know where, or why, but he went. All he had to go on was God's promise that he would have descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky. I'm sorry, but does that sound like logic to you? Say what? He was old, had no kids, and a vague message from God. But he went.... That's what I call faith - faith in God himself. Forget about common sense. Logic? Out the window. This is what faith looks like. This is what dreams are made of. This is the miracle that God brings about. You know, I can't help but think of Abraham because his situation seems like mine, only amplified several thousand times. And still, I'm not sure

It's the small things that make life richer and fun, such as: A friend's phone call just to see what you're doing. A cold drink at the end of a hot day at work. Ice cream on any day - hot or cold, especially if it's Rocky Road or anything coffee. Hearing a song on the radio that I really like. A cool breeze to break up the sweltering heat that's enveloping me. A day off from work. Having the freedom to sleep in. The fresh crunch of a cucumber. My dog's cute face staring at me. The smell of a cake baking in the oven. The smell of freshly mowed grass (granted the remnants don't get in my car vents). Laughing, at anything really - even if it's myself. Blowing bubbles. Watching my dog dig a hole in the ground even after we've told him many times not to. Listening for the "clink" "clink" of my dog's collar when I call him. Standing on a vantage point feeling the wind sweeping over my face and through my hair. People not knowing how

I'm watching the news and reading the internet news. It seems I can't get enough these days. But at the same time, it breaks my heart to watch it and I don't know why I'm so stuck to it. Every day I pray for my friend, and every day, I hope for some sort of cease-fire to ease the suffering of innocent people on both sides of the border. I worry about my friend, some days more than others. And now, 27 days into this crisis I see that supplies in Lebanon are dwindling. Surprised? No. It was inevitable. But again, my thoughts turn to those we know in Lebanon. I need to find out. I will try to find out tomorrow. Today I plan to donate to the ICRC. I feel like I need to do something more than just pray. I've asked members of my church if they're willing to donate with me. Hopefully we can make some sort of contribution altogether. Stop by the ICRC website at www.icrc.org and take a look; make a donation if you can.