Daily Read #28: Letters from my Father (and everyone else in the Family)

I could probably write quite a few posts about my Korea Christmases. I finally found my ideal atmosphere for celebrating Christmas in Korea. Naturally as missionaries there is an inherent degree of Christmas spirit all year round, and Christmas became a natural way to increase people's interest in two white missionaries who wanted to share a 'Christmas' message.

Korea was also westernized enough and Christian enough (particularly where I was in Seoul) to have a few touches of Christmas splattered in unexpected places but it wasn't the 80 proof Christmas Spirit that assaults the senses with every step in many places in the US. This meant I could 'gak' about the cold without getting sneers from merrimakers.

Finally for me, Christmas will always be inseparably tied with home. I can't imagine how homesick Christmas in a more traditional Christmas environment would make a missionary. As it were if I didn't want to think about what I was 'missing' by being 10,000 miles from the holiday homefront, I didn't have to fend off reminders on every doorstep.

Leading up to my first Christmas I had been in Korea for only a few months. I was quite a happy and well adjusted missionary. I liked the food, I was seeing some success, satisfied with who I was working with, and in generally learning to be quite fond of being a missionary and being a missionary in Korea. We were teaching a family (Dad, mom, two kids) who would end up setting baptismal dates for Christmas day. With that to look forward too, it was very easy to convince myself that there is no where I would rather spend my Christmas than in Korea.

Overall I was quite impressed by myself. Not even the slightest pang of homesickness, it didn't really register with me despite my holiday advent pocket Christmas tree. The companion I was with came from a non-traditional family background and wasn't overly morose with the idea of spending another Christmas in Korea and because it was just the two of us together we didn't have much to mope over.

There was one moment of that first Christmas when that was for a few minutes changed.

Our mission was geographically small enough that the Mission home was never more than 2 hours of travel time from your area. Consequently we would travel for conferences at the mission home quite frequently. Our December Zone conference was one of those times; we went into the mission home had trainings in the morning and then were invited up to President's home. The mission office and president's home were on the 3rd and 4th floors of a church building.

The climb of a flight of stairs from where we had been recieving training to president's home might as well have been a 10,000 mile transpacific flight. All of my defenses were immediately swept away by the feel of carpet underfoot, the tasteful holiday decorations including a tree, the holiday music playing softly and the smells of holiday baking. I'm not sure if this was the intended effect but suddenly I was dealing with a barrage of emotions that I had been quite content repressing.

Within 20 minutes or so I had my sea legs back on HMS Homesick, and just decided that I would enjoy it till it was over and after that I'd be just fine. We had some testimony sharing and caroling and were hopeful that we'd eat something baked 'Western' style and then be on our way. But nope there was one more 'surprise' from our mission mom, who came out carrying a basket of brown envelopes with bulges of various girths.

Letters from our families for everyone. I thought are you kidding me? Don't get me wrong, I love letters as much as the next guy but I do not want to sit on carpet under a Christmas tree eating Christmas cookies reading glad tidings from my family who I was beginning to really miss. Death by letter was not what I wanted to kill my resolve to embrace a Korean Christmas.

My momentary hopes that I would be the one missionary without letters were dashed when I was handed a considerably more beefy envelope that most of the missionaries around me. With my heart in a figurative tourniquet, I tried to keep myself from being washed over by emotions. My mantra, 'Don't think, Don't feel, Don't think, Don't feel' allowed me to get so far as the seal broken on the first brown envelope. I was relieved by the sight of another envelope that had carried the contents over the Pacific.

All around me missionaries were reading their letters. The few Koreans among us were done and I think were trying to figure out what the big deal was. Inspiration struck as my defense strategy changed to be eerily similar to that of a 14 year old girl: retreat to the bathroom. So I Moaning Myrtled my way back to the bathroom. Once inside I got bold enough to slide open the airmail envelope and pull out a stack of folded letters all on different holiday paper, tied with a gold bow and gift tag that said to Elder Hart love your family. Mom might as well have been there handing them to me.

The levees broke and I'm hopeful that no one heard the guttural sound I made that likely sounded like I'd been disemboweled. I think at this point my guardian angel intervened with the thought that far outstripped the genius of the first--Operation Toiletpaper--just don't read them now. When my mind processed this, the relief was instant.

My emotions in check I exited the bathroom and went back out to enjoy brownies and ice cream with the other missionaries. My brown envelope bulging out my from the inside of my jacket [at the time it was the only bulge under my jacket]. I would read the letters but it would be at time when I could unabashedly enjoy them and now was not that time.

That time was early the next morning before my companion had woken up and I had some alone time. I did cry but my emotions were back to normal well before the missionary day began. I was in a healthier emotional state after this event. I could more fully experience joy when I had acknowledged certain aspects of sorrow and longing inherent with my circumstances.

Looking back at this memory I have two thoughts, first there are missionaries that I should write, they appreciate Christmas letters the most.

Second nothing evokes a stronger desire to be with loved ones than the Christmas season. While in a perfect world we would be able to gather those we love the most in one place to share a cup of cheer, circumstance and even mortality, both often meaner than the Grinch, create some vacancies around the Christmas tree. We need not be ashamed to experience the grief, sorrow and longing created by these gaps just because there isn't a Christmas song that heralds the duality of emotion inherent with Christmas.

Sorrow and joy are often two sides of the same coin--love. Heads or Tails the coin remains a coin and loses no value. Life was meant to be an emotionally rich journey we shouldn't try to mute it. Create spaces that allow you to experience an appropriate range of emotions of this holiday season, they are all a part of your inner who.