Like Laundry

This past Friday, I had to move out of my home. With little time left, I contacted a real estate agent in the afternoon and quickly prepared to see a new place. I didn’t wear my old, worn-out clothes—instead, I dressed neatly.

I thought, “If the landlord or the agent sees me as someone who failed in business and has no steady income, they probably won’t want to rent to me.” So I dressed up, not to deceive, but to give myself a chance.

The truth is, I take care of any home I live in with extreme care. I hate to cause harm or discomfort to others. Even during the hardest months financially, I’ve never once been late with rent.

But the landlord and agent don’t know this. All they can see is my outward appearance. So I tried to look as presentable as I could.

Eventually, I signed the lease for the cheapest room I could find. I came home, sat down on a chair—completely exhausted—and cried. This situation is hard. It’s painful.

In this moment of weakness, the only thing I could rely on was the Word of God. So I opened the Bible, and read:

Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.

Matthew 23:26 (NIV)

Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.

Matthew 23:27 (NIV)

This verse was originally spoken to rebuke religious hypocrites who appeared holy on the outside but were full of sin on the inside.

Lately, I’ve felt a deep discomfort when I’m even slightly disobedient to God. It’s hard to pray. I’m not sure if it’s a spiritual or psychological block, but I feel distant.

On the other hand, when I choose to obey fully, my prayers become more genuine, more intimate. And so, out of weariness from disobedience, I find myself returning to obedience.

Sometimes I feel like a piece of laundry in a washing machine—spinning, bumping, turning in all directions. Maybe God is using these difficult moments to slowly wash me clean from the inside out.

In real estate, people may judge me by how I look. But God sees my heart, my hidden pain, my quiet effort. Maybe He is allowing this suffering to purify me—to remove the dirt that no one else can see.

Like Film Music

Tonight, while working around dinnertime, I turned on the TV. The movie “Dances with Wolves” was playing—Kevin Costner guarding a lonely military outpost in the wilderness, with soft, beautiful music playing in the background. The music captured his solitude so tenderly.

It reminded me of another film: “The Pursuit of Happyness.” Will Smith, portraying Chris Gardner, is a man who has lost everything—his job, his wife, and his home.

In one scene, he’s forced to sleep in a subway bathroom with his young son, laying down toilet paper as a bed. As his son sleeps, he silently cries.

Later, through hardship and persistence, he lands a job at an investment firm, and we see him crying again—but this time with gratitude.

But even in those films, during the most painful and difficult moments, it is often gentle and beautiful music that plays in the background.

If God were the director of my life,
and I were an actor in His film,
what kind of music would He choose for this moment when I am crying in hardship?

Almighty God,
who makes a way in the wilderness
and turns a path of tears into a song of beauty,

I hope that the greatest Conductor—God—
would not choose cheap electronic sounds or loud, attention-seeking noise, but instead place music that quietly moves people’s hearts.