A Gift That Came When I Was at My Weakest

This year's Passover was especially meaningful to me. For the first time in thirty-five years, my husband and I kept the Passover together. As I watched him, now in his seventies, take part in his very first Passover ceremony, the past thirty-five years seemed to flash before my eyes.

I came to know God Elohim in the early 1990s. The joy of finding the truth was overwhelming, but it was short-lived. I soon faced my husband’s unwavering opposition and did not know what to do. I had hoped that he would welcome the good news of salvation as I had, but he would not even let me mention the word “church.” Whenever I listened to sermon tapes, he would abruptly switch off the cassette player, unable to hide his displeasure. I had always known that he had no interest whatsoever in God or heaven, but I never imagined he would be so unwilling to listen to me. As time went by, he gradually came to respect my faith, but that was as far as it went.

In the years that followed, God richly blessed me as I carried out my mission as a gospel worker. In those days, there were only a few churches in Busan, but before long, that number had grown to nearly thirty, and the number of members increased month by month. I was deeply grateful that God allowed me, despite my shortcomings, to take part in His gospel work. Yet my husband was always on my mind. Whenever I saw young couples beginning their life of faith together or heard that members in circumstances similar to mine had led their loved ones to God, my heart ached all the more.

As we grew older, I found that my health seemed to change from one day to the next, and my husband was no longer as strong as he had once been. For the past few years, I had been praying even more earnestly and encouraging him to keep the Passover with me. Yet he remained completely unmoved. After hearing me talk about it for decades, I thought he might at least give in just once, if only for his wife’s sake. But no matter how much time passed, he never changed. More than once, I became so discouraged that I walked away, telling myself, “I’ll never ask him again.”

But how could I ever give up? Though he was never one to express himself much, my husband had faithfully worked as a driver for more than ten hours a day for decades to provide for our family. After spending his entire life working hard for us, I longed for him to share in the happiness I had found in God.

The change began in an unexpected way. It started when I developed a chronic illness and underwent surgery. At the time, I never imagined that such a blessing was waiting for me. While I accepted my illness calmly, thinking that aches and sickness naturally come with age, Zion members gave me more care and encouragement than I felt I deserved. Some prepared nourishing meals for me, while others brought me warm socks, worried that my feet might get cold after the surgery. Whenever they saw me, they would give me a warm hug or take my hands in theirs and encourage me, saying, “Everything will be all right. We’re always praying for you.”

Who could have imagined that the love and care that had given me the strength to overcome my illness would also open my husband’s heart? A man who would never normally say such things remarked, “It isn’t easy to care for someone like this. It’s truly remarkable.” Others might think,What’s so special about that? But to me, it was unmistakable that my husband was beginning to change.

As I continued praying for him more earnestly than ever, the Passover drew near once again. This time, I was convinced that things would be different. With all my heart, I told him how much I hoped that we could keep the Passover together and receive God's blessing. And this time, it truly was different. Unlike before, he listened carefully to what I had to say. Then, on the day before the Passover, he finally came to Zion. The baptism he had postponed for more than thirty years was over in just a few minutes. Such a simple thing—and yet it had taken more than three decades to happen. Still, I knew that, in his own way, he had convictions and an outlook on life that had sustained him over the years. I was simply grateful that, even after all that time, he had recognized my sincerity and returned to God’s embrace.

The next day, three generations—my husband, our daughter, our grandson, and I—kept the Passover together. My grandson was especially delighted that his grandfather was keeping the Passover with us that year. From then on, my husband changed so much that I could hardly believe he was the same man I had known all those years. Whenever I shared God’s word with him, he listened willingly. When I asked him to pray with me, he would fold his hands, though he still felt a little awkward. When I played New Songs in our room, he would quietly listen.

It is often said that people never change. But when God works, nothing is impossible. It may take decades to witness such an amazing work of God, and along the way we may have to endure trials we never expected. Even so, rather than resenting or complaining, I have come to realize deep in my heart that if we trust that God has a purpose in everything, seek His help, and live according to His word, the day will surely come when our dreams become reality and our deepest hopes are fulfilled. I have also learned that love must be the foundation of both the journey and its outcome.

Whenever I think of our Heavenly Father and Mother and Zion members, who cared for me with such love and devotion so that I would not lose heart, I cannot help but ask myself whether I have truly practiced that same kind of love. I will share the love I have received even more earnestly, hoping that others, like my husband, will find strength in God’s love and begin a blessed new life.