Katie told me a story while we climbed Hallasan Mountain. She had claimed it herself back in January. By herself. It was icy and cold and she needed to do it because she needed to feel something other than the pain in her heart from things going on in her life. So she decided to freeze it out. She got to the turn around point and headed back down, the light beginning to fade quicker than she could slip and slide her way on her bum knee. People passed by her on their own descending trek much faster than she could manage. The last vestiges of light scraps were blinking out like fading lightening bugs and she looked around. She was the only person left on the mountain. “I’m alone,” her head said to her heart. She made it down and started walking out of the park on the side of the road. The longer she walked, the darker it got. The darker it got, the more her knee let her know it was done. She came upon a sort of mom and pop Korean version of a diner and knocked. They were closed, turns out. Go to the ranger station, still a long walk away.
“God? Please make them come after me,” she said to the only One who was listening. Within just a few minutes, they were there and took her to the ranger station. “Where were you??” the astonished ranger said. “I did the last check and never saw you.” They realized it was when she made a short stop at a restroom on the trail that the glitch in the matrix occurred and they went unnoticed to one another. They fed her and got her back to safety and she lived to tell the tale. But the thing is, she wasn’t necessarily fearful as much as in physical pain.
Katie. That’s our title. We’ve both been the last one on the mountain, her literally, both of us figuratively. We’ve both experienced similar “deaths”; dreams of happily ever after, people that should still be “there”, faith that evolved into uninhibited expression and found its way through making friends with those around us. We went from a greenhouse to a ship on the open sea, almost restless for the next wave…what is just over that crest??
We both had an unlikely connection. My friend from Korea who went to my church also went to college with Katie at Murray State several years ago. He decided to connect us virtually and we met last year, sharing a meal and a prayer and praise night for North Korean people. It was an instant connection but a short one and the months past with little to no communication. Then, in February my phone dinged. “Hey lady! I’m going to be in your area. Know of a good place to stay?” My spare room became hers for 2 days and we talked until late into the night. It was there we really saw the bloom begin to bud. I went into the kitchen and she to her room. A few minutes later she came out to find me. “I really like you. Can we be friends?” And the seal was stamped. See you in Korea, we said, and now here we are.
The first night was a walk to the convenience store, laughing silly tired that made us unable to walk in a straight line. The two days since have been so packed with life and laughter I’m sure there’s been a supernatural lengthening of time. There is no possible way this much could fit into 48 hours. We have sung, laughed, eaten, ferried, been in constant motion unless and right up to when we collapsed asleep. Katie speaks Korean and has been the go between for everyone we’ve met with. She speaks and then I speaks and then she speaks for me and they speak and then she speaks for them. There’s been a lot of speaking all the way around. Many are the times when things are happening around us, plans are being discussed for us and I turn to her. “What’s going on?” I ask her after she converses with our friends with a hearty “Nay, nay” (Yes, yes!). “I’m not sure but we said yes and we’re happy about it.” When you’re two of a kind in a country not your own, the comic relief of having each other to have a side discussion provided laughter that required immense amount of self control to suppress.
You know when you meet someone and it feels like no introductions are needed, the door is wide open and nobody cares what you look like, what you have or don’t have, how old you are or aren’t, the barriers are down and the smile feels like hot coffee and doughnuts? No pretense or caution, just a safe space to be who you are. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “I’m so
Being “the two”, though, that love where they’re at, even when they don’t understand all of what’s happening, is a special bond indeed. We both love Korea like a seed planted deeply. It runs in our bones. It’s in spite of us, not because of us, put there by our common Father. We have found a kinship in that. We both want others to know the who of Korea; people, places and history that makes these brothers and sisters we’ve met come alive. Our Creator has planted inside of us a desire that takes up huge space in our hearts. I marvel at the miracle of keeping company with people I did not know existed just a few days ago. I marvel at the unlikely burst of joy of finding someone else along the way on the mountain.
