지난 주초에 광역새생명 이사회 목사님들과 이박 삼일 엠티를 하기로 일정이 잡혀있었는데, 취소되는 바람에 모처럼 빈 시간이 생겼습니다. 미처 다른 일정을 잡지 못한 덕분이지요. 월요일 새벽 두시 반에 잠에서 깼습니다. 다시 잠을 들이지 못하면서 문득 뵙고 싶은 분들이 생각났습니다.
양평에 사시는 아주버님께서 고령에 편찮으시다 보니 몇 년 동안 뵙질 못했습니다. 덜컥 천국 가셨다는 소식이라도 들으면 영 뵐 수 없을 것도 같았지요. 역시 양평 쪽 신학교에 계시는 교수님도 생각났습니다. 수도권 쪽에서 힘들게 목회를 하고 계시는 목사님 부부도 생각나고 누구보다도 최근에 남편을 보내신 권사님도 생각났습니다. 남편께서 세상을 떠날 준비를 하실 때 여러 번 전화를 하셔서 기도 부탁을 하셨는데 도무지 짬이 나질 않아 가서 뵙지 못한 것이 죄송스럽기도 했지요.
그래저래 말하자면 장거리 심방을 다녀오면 좋겠다는 생각이 들었습니다. 물론 뻔히 눈에 보이는, 해야 할 일들이 있었지만 일보다는 사람이 우선이라는 생각도 있고 또 다시 시간을 낸다는 것은 힘든 일인지라 급히 아침을 챙겨먹고는 길을 나섰습니다. 다행히 고속도로가 잘 뚫려있어서 경기도 양평까지 세 시간 반이 걸린다고 내비게이션이 알려주었습니다. 도중에 한 번 기사를 교체하기 위해 잠깐 차를 세운 것 말고는 논스톱으로 달려갔지요. 장거리에서는 우리 두 사람이 교대로 운전대를 잡습니다. 잠이 온다든지 피곤하면 곧바로 기사 교체를 하지요.
월요일이긴 했지만 바쁘신 두 분 목사님과 사모님들께서 열일을 제치고 달려오셨습니다. 최근에 여러 가지로 힘든 상황이었는데 하나님께서 놀라운 은혜를 베푸신 이야기며 신학교 이야기며 자라나는 아이들 이야기를 나누었습니다. 우리의 부족함에도 불구하고 우리를 긍휼히 여기시고 다듬어 가시면서 사역자로 구비시키시는 주님의 은혜가 얼마나 감사한지요.
오후에는 형님 댁을 찾아갔습니다. 시골집 마당에는 형형색색의 채송화들이 피어있고 채전에는 없는 게 없을 정도로 갖가지 채소들이 탐스럽게 자라고 있었습니다. 집에 들어가 앉으니 벽 쪽으로 갈물 이철경 서예가가 쓴 시가 걸려있었습니다. ‘뜰악 은행나무 / 물든 닢 흩날리고 / 달빛 흰 가루가 / 발끝에 부서지고 / 언덕밑 작은 봉창에 / 호롱불이 빤하다.’ 이렇게 첫 문단으로 시작하는 김어수 시인의 ‘산촌야경’이지요. 창문 쪽으로는 조용하고 탁 트인 전망에 푸른 숲이 펼쳐져 있었습니다.
장로님이신 아주버님은 몸이 편찮으시니 이제는 채전 일도 모두 형님 몫입니다. 몇 주 전에도 아주버님이 교회에서 쓰러지시는 바람에 응급실로 실려 가시고 혼이 났습니다. 형님은 워낙에 무던하시고 일도 잘하시는 분이지요. 저녁 식사는 머윗대 들깨국이며 방금 따온 가지 부침, 그야말로 웰빙 식탁이었습니다. 뿐만 아니라 반찬 하나하나 다 맛있었습니다. 아마도 우리 어머님 음식 솜씨를 형님이 쏙 빼닮은 것 같았습니다. 아주버님이 자랑을 하십니다. “집사람이 정원을 얼마나 잘 가꾸는지 몰라요. 일류 요리사에 영양사에다가 일류 간호사라니까요.” 형님이 부끄러우신지 “간호사는 무슨··· 간병인이지. 채전도 장로님이 많이 도와주시니까 그렇지.”라고 하십니다.
거동이 불편하시니 이렇게 만나면 또 언제 만날지 모르는데 형님과 어머님 얘기며 옛날 어릴 적 동생들과 함께 한 집에 살았던 얘기들을 나눌 수 있어 좋았습니다. 이튿날 아침 떠나올 때는 열무며 더덕이며 깽깽이 꽃 화분을 차에 실어주셨습니다. 연세가 팔십 안팎이신 두 분이 서로 격려하고 의지하며 사시는 모습이 참으로 보기 좋았습니다. 젊은 날에 고생도 많았고 어려운 고비들도 있었지만 4남매도 잘 키워서 출가시켰습니다. 이제는 두 분이 천국 소망으로 하늘에 계신 아버지 하나님 바라보며, 비록 연약한 육신이지만 편안하게 의지하고 기댈 수 있는 친구가 있으니 얼마나 감사한지요.
Early last week, a three-day, two-night retreat with the pastors on the board of Gwangyeok Saesaengmyeong had been scheduled, but its sudden cancellation gifted us with some rare, unhurried time. It was a blessing brought about simply because we had not managed to fill the gap with other plans. On Monday morning, I woke up at two-thirty. Unable to drift back to sleep, the faces of people I deeply longed to see began to rise in my heart.
My brother-in-law living in Yangpyeong is advanced in years and in frail health, and we had not been able to visit him for several years. I worried that if we were to hear sudden news of his departure to heaven, we might never see him again in this life. I also thought of a professor at a seminary out toward Yangpyeong. I remembered a pastor and his wife laboring diligently in pastoral ministry in the capital region, and above all, an ordained deaconess (kwonsanim) who had recently lost her husband. As her husband was preparing to depart from this world, she had called several times asking for our prayers, yet I had felt terribly sorry that, unable to carve out time, I had not gone to visit them.
With all these thoughts swirling, I felt it would be wonderful to embark on a long-distance pastoral visitation. Naturally, there was obvious work waiting to be done, but believing that people matter far more than tasks—and knowing how hard it would be to find another open window of time—we hastily ate breakfast and hit the road. Thankfully, the highway traffic was smooth, and the navigation indicated it would take three and a half hours to reach Yangpyeong, Gyeonggi Province. Aside from pulling over briefly once to switch drivers, we drove non-stop. On long trips, the two of us take turns behind the wheel. Whenever drowsiness or fatigue creeps in, we switch right away.
Even though it was a Monday, two busy pastors and their wives set aside everything else and rushed over to meet us. They shared stories of how God had bestowed marvelous grace amid recent hardships, news from the seminary, and updates on their growing children. How deeply thankful we felt for the grace of our Lord, who looks upon us with compassion despite our shortcomings, gently refining and equipping us as His servants.
In the afternoon, we visited my husband's eldest brother's home. In the courtyard of the rural home, colorful rose moss was in full bloom, and the vegetable garden was thriving with an abundance of wholesome greens. Stepping inside and sitting down, I noticed a poem hanging on the wall, written in calligraphy by Galmul Lee Chul-kyung. It was poet Kim Eo-su's "Night Scene of a Mountain Village," which begins:
“In the front garden, the ginkgo tree / Scatters tinted leaves adrift / Moonlit white dust / Crumbles beneath the toes / In the tiny paper window beneath the hill / The lamplight shines clearly.”
Looking out the window, a serene and open vista unfolded toward lush green forests.
Because my brother-in-law, an elder, is unwell, the garden work now falls entirely on my sister-in-law's shoulders. Just a few weeks ago, our hearts skipped a beat when he collapsed at church and had to be rushed to the emergency room. My sister-in-law has always been patient, gentle, and capable. For dinner, she prepared coltsfoot stem soup with perilla seeds and freshly harvested eggplant pancakes—truly a nourishing, wholesome meal. Every single side dish was delectable. She seemed to have inherited every bit of our late mother-in-law's culinary touch. My brother-in-law boasted with pride, “You have no idea how well my wife tends the garden. She’s a first-rate chef, a dietitian, and a top-notch nurse all in one.” My sister-in-law replied with modest embarrassment, “Nurse? More like a caregiver... And besides, the Elder helps me out in the garden so much.”
Since mobility is difficult for him, once we part, we never know when we might meet again. It was so precious to sit with my sister-in-law, reminiscing about Mother and sharing stories of the old days when the siblings all lived under one roof. When we departed the next morning, they loaded our car with young summer radishes, deodeok roots, and a potted twinleaf flower. Watching this couple around eighty years of age encourage and lean on one another was truly heartwarming. Though their younger days were filled with hardships and difficult trials, they raised four children well and saw them all married. Now, looking toward God our Heavenly Father with the hope of heaven, and blessed with a faithful companion on whom they can comfortably lean despite frail bodies, how profoundly grateful they are.
Vroeg verlede week was 'n driedaagse, tweetonige wegbreek saam met die leraars van die raad van Gwangyeok Saesaengmyeong beplan, maar omdat dit gekanselleer is, het ons 'n seldsame oop tydjie geniet. Dit was 'n seën wat ons te danke gehad het aan die feit dat ons nog nie ander afsprake gemaak het nie. Maandagoggend om halfdrie het ek wakker geword. Terwyl ek nie weer aan die slaap kon raak nie, het die gesigte van mense na wie ek innig verlang het, skielik by my opgekom.
My man se oudste broer wat in Yangpyeong woon, is al baie bejaard en boonop swak van gesondheid, en daarom het ons hom 'n paar jaar lank nie gesien nie. Ek was bang dat as ons skielik sou hoor dat hy hemel toe is, ons hom dalk nooit weer sou sien nie. Ek het ook gedink aan 'n professor by 'n kweekskool daar naby Yangpyeong. Ek het gedink aan 'n leraarspaar wat onder moeilike omstandighede in die hoofstadgebied dien, en bowenal aan 'n diakones (kwonsanim) wat onlangs haar man aan die dood afgestaan het. Toe haar man besig was om hom voor te berei om hierdie wêreld te verlaat, het sy verskeie kere gebel en om gebed gevra, maar omdat ek eenvoudig nie tyd kon inruim om hulle te besoek nie, het ek baie skuldig gevoel.
So het die gedagte by my opgekom dat dit goed sou wees om 'n langafstand-huisbesoek te onderneem. Natuurlik was daar ooglopende take wat gewag het, maar met die oortuiging dat mense belangriker as werk is, en wetende dat dit moeilik sou wees om weer so 'n geleentheid te vind, het ons haastig ontbyt geëet en die pad aangedurf. Gelukkig was die snelweg oop en vlot, en die navigasiestelsel het aangedui dat dit drie en 'n half uur na Yangpyeong in die Gyeonggi-provinsie sou neem. Behalwe vir een vinnige stilhou om van bestuurder te ruil, het ons sonder ophou deurgery. Op lang reise neem ons twee beurte agter die stuurwiel. Sodra vaakheid of moegheid toeslaan, ruil ons dadelik om.
Al was dit 'n Maandag, het twee besige predikante en hul eggenotes alles opsygeskuif en dadelik gekom. Hulle het gedeel hoe die Here wonderbaarlike genade te midde van onlangse beproewinge bewys het, stories van die kweekskool vertel en van die opgroeiende kinders gesels. Hoe dankbaar is ons tog vir die Here se genade, wat ons ondanks ons tekortkominge met ontferming aanskou, ons vorm en toerus as Sy dienaars.
Middagete se kant toe het ons by my swaer en skoonsuster se huis aangekom. In die werf van die plattelandse huisie het kleurvolle portulakke geblom, en in die groentetuin het allerhande groentes welig gegroei—daar het werklik niks ontbreek nie. Toe ons binnegaan en gaan sit, het ek teen die muur 'n gedig opgemerk wat deur die kalligraaf Galmul Lee Chul-kyung geskryf is. Dit was die digter Kim Eo-su se "Naguitsig oor 'n Bergdorpie", wat so begin:
“In die voorhof swaai die ginkgo-boom / Verkleurde blare wat wegdryf / Wit poeier van maanlig / Breek onder die tone / In die klein venstertjie onder die heuwel / Skyn die lamplig helder.”
Deur die venster het 'n rustige, wye uitsig oor die welige groen woud gestrek.
Omdat my swaer, wat 'n ouderling is, nie gesond is nie, val al die groentetuinwerk nou op my skoonsuster se skouers. Net 'n paar weke gelede het ons geweldig geskrik toe hy by die kerk inmekaargesak het en na die noodsaal gehaas moes word. My skoonsuster is egter van nature 'n geduldige, saggeaarde en hardwerkende mens. Vir aandete was daar 'n sop van perillasaad en hoefbladstingels, asook vars geplukte eiervrugkoekies—werklik 'n heilsame, gesonde feesmaal. Boonop was elke enkele bykos heerlik; dit het gevoel asof sy ons wyle skoonmoeder se kookvernuf presies geërf het. My swaer het trots gespog: “Julle weet nie hoe mooi my vrou die tuin versorg nie. Sy is 'n eersteklas sjef, 'n dieetkundige én 'n topsuster alles in een.” My skoonsuster het effens verleë gesê: “Watter verpleegster nou weer... eerder maar 'n versorger. En die Ouderling help my darem baie in die groentetuin.”
Aangesien hy moeilik beweeg, weet 'n mens nooit wanneer ons mekaar weer sal sien as ons eers groet nie. Daarom was dit kosbaar om saam met my skoonsuster oor Moeder te gesels en herinneringe op te haal aan die ou dae toe die broers en susters almal onder een dak gewoon het. Toe ons die volgende oggend vertrek, het hulle ons motor volgelaai met somerradysies, deodeok-wortels en 'n potplantjie met tweeblaarblomme. Dit was waarlik hartverblydend om te sien hoe hierdie egpaar van om en by die tagtig mekaar bemoedig en op mekaar steun. Al het hulle in hul jonger dae baie swaargekry en deur diep waters gegaan, het hulle vier kinders mooi grootgemaak en sien trou. Noudat hulle twee met die hemelse hoop opkyk na God die Vader, en 'n betroubare maat het om op te steun ten spyte van 'n swak liggaam—hoe onbeskryflik dankbaar is hulle nie.