A Year of Grace, Gratitude, and Growth

The year 2024 began with extraordinary promise. I reflected on the many blessings and opportunities of 2023, including preaching engagements in Georgia, publishing my testimonial book, participating in podcasts with Denver Seminary and Joni and Friends, teaching at Denver Seminary, preaching at a mega church in Texas, and presenting a paper at the Evangelical Theological Society. God seemed to be opening countless doors.

By 2024, the momentum only grew. I was invited to preach at three prominent Korean churches in California. One was pastored by my mentor, while the other two were highly influential in the Korean American community and beyond. These invitations affirmed God’s call on my life. I was also expected to complete two major projects and present academic papers. I felt as though I was living out God’s plan for my ministry in ways I had long prayed for many years.

However, beneath these flourishing opportunities, an unanticipated trial emerged. In January, I developed a small pressure sore. For those with spinal cord injuries, pressure sores are serious conditions that can drastically limit physical activity and lead to severe complications. Still, I was confident that the sore would heal quickly. I was no stranger to pressure sores, having overcome them many times since my spinal cord injury from a snowboarding accident 20 years ago. But as days turned into weeks, the sore only worsened. By February, I sought evaluation at Craig Hospital, where they informed me that the wound had progressed beneath the skin. Although small, it required more extensive bed rest—up to 20 hours a day.

I underestimated how deeply this would affect me. I believed that with diligence, the sore would heal within a few months. However, by July, it became clear that my efforts were not enough. My family and friends grew increasingly frustrated, knowing I had done everything possible. I prayed fervently, asking God for healing—supernatural or natural—but no progress came. During daily wound checks, progress became a day-to-day battle. A day with no improvement felt like a day of despair, and each setback left us questioning whether the healing process was even working. This cycle of broken hope—raising expectations only to see them dashed—caused significant psychological and spiritual pain.

This experience tested my faith, patience, and endurance in profound ways. With spinal cord injury, life was already filled with limitations. Adding the complete immobilization of bed rest was a burden I struggled to bear. I began questioning God: Why was this happening? Why now, when I was so committed to serving him through ministry and scholarship? What do you want from me? Don’t I have enough testimonies of hardships to share with others? However, if there is something that you want me to learn from this trial, please teach me. Do not waste this time and use it for the good.

By August, after seven months of no improvement, I realized surgery was the only option left. My surgeon, who came highly recommended by Craig Hospital, assured us that the procedure would be simple because of the small size of the wound, unlike most pressure sore surgeries, which are typically more extensive in nature. For the first time in months, my family and I felt a renewed sense of hope.

Following my surgery in August, the initial recovery plan seemed straightforward: I would remain in bed for two weeks, after which I could begin sitting up gradually. I had prepared myself for the immobility, hoping that this intense period of rest would allow the wound to heal properly. However, the reality of recovery was far more complicated than I had anticipated. For the first 14 days after surgery, I lay in bed 24 hours a day, completely immobilized. This was a mental and physical challenge unlike any I had faced before. 

When I was transferred to a rehabilitation hospital to continue recovery, the challenges deepened. Nurses began monitoring my wound daily, checking for any signs of progress. Initially, there were no major complications, and I was allowed to sit up for 15 minutes a day. Gradually, this time was increased to about an hour during weekdays, with full rest on weekends. Despite the structured plan, conflicting opinions among medical staff created significant confusion and frustration.

Some nurses insisted that I needed to turn every three hours to prevent further pressure sores, while others assured me this wasn’t necessary because I was already on a specialized bed designed to reduce pressure. One nurse said the wound appeared to be improving, while another expressed concern that it might not be healing as expected. The physical therapists also had varying opinions on how much I could sit on my wheelchair daily, which contradicted the original post-surgery instructions from my surgeon.

Adding to the uncertainty, I was unable to meet with my surgeon directly due to a legal issue between her office and the rehabilitation hospital. Her office informed me that I needed to be discharged from the hospital to see her, but the hospital staff insisted that they could manage my recovery without her direct involvement. This breakdown in communication left my family and me feeling isolated and unsure of how to proceed.

Despite my best efforts to comply with the recovery plan, progress seemed inconsistent. Each day, I anxiously awaited the nurses’ reports on the wound’s condition. A good report gave me hope; a poor one crushed my spirit. The immobility and uncertainty weighed heavily on me, testing not only my physical endurance but also my faith and emotional resilience. This period of complete bed rest and medical miscommunication was one of the most challenging experiences of my life. Yet, it forced me to confront my deepest fears and rely on God in ways I never had before. Through prayer and reflection, I sought strength to endure the uncertainty and the waiting, trusting that God was at work even in the midst of this chaos.

Due to the legal issue, I decided to be discharged from the hospital to see my surgeon. After she pulled the sutures out, the wound was larger than before, I was devastated. When I asked what had happened, she could offer no explanation. My family and I felt betrayed—not just by the process, but even by God. How could this happen after months of effort, prayer, and faith? I felt as if God was delaying the process of healing, wrestling with feelings of abandonment and despair, wondering if I would ever be healed.

In the depths of my despair, I reached my breaking point. One night, I cried out to God, “Lord, I don’t know if I can handle this anymore. I think this is it. This is how far I can endure. I don’t know what to do with this—I leave it to you. I still believe you. I still love you.” This was my complete surrender to God, leaving everything to his will. Two days later, we noticed a small but significant improvement in the wound. At that moment, I felt a renewed sense of God’s presence and faithfulness. Tears filled the eyes of my family. For us, this was a sign that God had not abandoned us, but had plans for us. In my heart, I prayed that when I saw my surgeon next, she would declare the wound healed. In November, I met my surgeon again. She examined the wound and said the words I had prayed to hear: “It is healed.”

Since then, I have been cautiously increasing my time in my wheelchair—from two hours a day to six hours—and rebuilding my strength. I remain mindful of the need to avoid setbacks, but I am profoundly grateful for the healing that has taken place.

This journey has taught me invaluable lessons that I will carry forward. I will just share three things and more in the coming months. 1) My parents’ care for me throughout this ordeal deepened my gratitude for their love. They supported me physically, emotionally, and spiritually, reminding me of the sacrificial love that mirrors God’s own love for his children. 2) If my parents’ love is so profound, how much greater is God’s? His love, demonstrated through the suffering of Christ on the cross, became more tangible to me during this trial. 3) I often prioritized ministry tasks and work over relationships. This experience reminded me of the importance of friends and collogues who prayed for me, visited me, and supported me. Your encouragement inspired me to invest more intentionally in relationships. I am deeply grateful to you.

As I approach the 20th anniversary of my snowboarding accident on December 13, 2024, I reflect on how this year has become a defining chapter in my faith journey. It was a season of profound brokenness, yet it was also a season of grace, gratitude, and growth. I still carry regrets. I wish I had been more diligent in my physical and spiritual care and more proactive with bed rest early on. Yet I trust that God allowed this trial for a purpose, using it to deepen my faith and refine my character. It was not a waste of time, as I spent it in fellowship with the Son crucified and resurrected, in the presence of the Holy Spirit, for the joy of the Father.

I am so grateful for God and your partnership and friendship in Jesus Christ our Lord.

To God be the glory.