Following God’s Way, Not My Own

Ever since I was a student, I dreamed of becoming a pastoral worker. However, it was only a half-hearted dream. A true pastoral worker should take the lead in preaching the gospel to all people of the world, yet I had considered overseas missions to be someone else’s responsibility simply because I found English difficult. Looking back, I realize I approached many things in the same way. Even when I desired to do something within the gospel, I relied on my own standards and limited understanding rather than seeking God’s will. I often made assumptions about the process and the outcome in advance. Ironically, it was through several overseas mission trips that I finally recognized and shattered these contradictions within myself.

At a time when the path to my dream felt like an uphill battle, I went on my first short-term mission to Curitiba, Brazil. I wanted to grow by recognizing and overcoming my shortcomings, but once I arrived, everything felt unfamiliar and overwhelming, starting with the Portuguese language. I did not know where or how to begin. However, I could not just stand by. The state of Paraná, where Curitiba is located, is about twice the size of South Korea, yet there were only three Zions. Even with my many limitations, I knew I had to offer whatever help I could. From that moment on, my goal shifted: I wanted to become a pastoral worker who could be used for the gospel work in Brazil.

Later, I went to São Paulo on a long-term mission. It was a stark contrast to the whirlwind of my short-term trip. I had to navigate a local culture that was more than just foreign; at times, it felt incomprehensible. Unlike short-term missions, where I would find souls and then return home, I was now responsible for nurturing them—a task that proved far more difficult than I had anticipated. It was heartbreaking and draining to see people I had poured so much time and effort into turn away because their faith hadn't taken root. I tried to help the church by serving as a Student Guidance Teacher, but if I struggled to communicate with adults, the students' slang and vocabulary were even more of a mystery. In those moments of frustration, I found myself retreating into my past experiences in Korea, thinking:

“This is how we did it in Korea, so it should work here, too.”

“My Portuguese isn't good enough yet; I’ll wait until I’m more fluent before I really try to connect with the members.”

“There’s no point in visiting this person; they probably won’t be home anyway.”

As I spent more time weighing every circumstance and overanalyzing every move, my steps grew heavier. Ironically, the very experiences I had carefully built up in Korea became like a mountain in my path—clouding my vision and hindering my progress. I realized that if I continued this way, I would accomplish nothing and only waste precious time. From then on, whenever my mind became cluttered, I tried to think more simply.

My resolve to become a pastoral worker began after watching a video portraying a day in life of Heavenly Mother. I was deeply moved by Her life of sacrifice—how She gives everything to save the souls cast down from heaven, yet always cares for Her children with a gentle smile and boundless love. In that moment, a single desire filled my heart: I wanted to bring joy to Heavenly Mother. As She watches over Her children—each with their own dispositions—struggling to walk the path of salvation, how many concerns She must carry? How many obstacles must have stood in Her way. Yet, Heavenly Mother never hesitated or turned back. She has devoted Her entire life to preaching the gospel and caring for Her children. Had Mother stopped to calculate circumstances or weigh the circumstances, perhaps none of us would be in Zion today. I came to realize that the only way I could bring Her joy was to lead even one more soul to salvation. And in that process, where my reliance must be placed—not on my own experience or thoughts, but on God—the source of life.

Once I fixed my heart on the core mission of saving the souls before me, my way of thinking began to change. I came to understand that to overcome cultural differences, I had to be the one to reach out first; no matter how far away someone was, I needed to go to them and share the words of the Bible. With my heart firmly set on salvation of souls, I did everything I could—seeking help from translators, relying on dictionaries, and learning from local members. Then something remarkable happened. The language skills that had once remained stagnant when I felt it was too difficult to go on finally began to improve. At times, I wondered, “Will what I say even be understood?” Yet not only did they understand, but they also received the truth. I realized then that what I truly needed was not simply language proficiency, but an earnest desire to save even one soul.

I also came to see that cultural differences and language barriers were no obstacles to God’s love. There was a student brother who attended Zion regularly, but as he entered adolescence, he became quiet and withdrawn. It was nearly impossible to tell what he was thinking. During Student Group activities, he avoided eye contact, and as time passed, he seemed to grow more distant. Watching this, I could not help but feel concerned. In those moments, I kept asking myself, “What would Mother do?” as I tried to understand him and draw closer to him. Gradually, he began to open his heart and respond. When the time came for me to return to Korea, he handed me a letter. In it, he apologized for his past behavior and shared his determination to continue studying the word diligently. He even asked if I would come back to Brazil someday. Reading those words touched me deeply.

Looking back, it must not have been easy for him to accept guidance from someone who had come from the opposite side of the world. However, as our sincere desire to share the love of Heavenly Father and Mother resonated with one another, our hearts began to align. Seeing this, the Zion members supported us with prayer and encouragement, and we were able to become one. As I slowly adapted to the local environment and worked in unity with the members of Zion—preaching the gospel and caring for new members together—we came to find more than 130 brothers and sisters in São Paulo.

Among them was one brother who, searching for employment, devoted himself to studying the Bible every day. After realizing the importance of worship, he adjusted his work schedule at his new job so that he could faithfully keep the regulations. When I later returned to Brazil for a short-term mission, I was deeply grateful to see that he had grown into a devoted worker, diligently preaching the gospel.

Reflecting on these experiences, I realize how contradictory it was to set limits for myself while claiming to carry out God’s work. It was foolish of me to judge the outcomes of my efforts based on my own perspective, sidelining the God who plans and governs all things. Through much trial and error, I learned that when planning and carrying out the gospel work, I must first seek what pleases God and rely entirely on Him. Only then can I remain steadfast, regardless of my circumstances and obey Him wholeheartedly. For me, overseas missions became more than simply a means to save others. They became a mirror that revealed the true state of my faith and provided the space I needed to grow.

Now, my only hope is that the path I walk is not my own, but God’s. If the times I followed my own thoughts were obstacles to the gospel of the kingdom, then the moments I relied on God and saw His blessings have become the stepping stones that strengthen my faith in His power. From now on, no matter where I am or what circumstances I face, I will first seek to understand God’s will and learn the heart of true obedience. I will no longer set limits for myself. Instead, I will press forward as a prophet, ready to go wherever the mission leads, so that the work of the gospel may be fulfilled.