Cho Ji-hyeon
Having joined the military as soon as I became an adult, I now look back on thirty-three years of service—more years spent as a soldier than as a civilian. Throughout that time, one principle has proven most essential: strict adherence to regulations. That discipline has guided not only my military career but also the way I live each day.
Becoming a career soldier was never my original plan. Meeting my wife early and marrying young gave me a strong sense of responsibility to provide for my family, which ultimately led me to enlist. After completing my term as an enlisted soldier, I decided to continue my service by becoming a non-commissioned officer.
To my surprise, a career in the military suited me well. I appreciated the order and fairness of a system that judged actions by regulations. Whether it was about people or situations, when the causes and results were applied to the regulations, the conclusion was always clear. Whenever a problem arose, I judged right and wrong by the outcome, and if anything deviated even slightly from the regulations, I imposed discipline accordingly.
At that time, I had little sense of empathy or consideration for others. I did not know how to truly listen or understand their feelings. To my juniors and fellow soldiers, I was a rigid and uncompromising superior and officer, showing neither warmth nor compassion. Looking back now, I realize how many people must have been hurt by my behavior. Yet for more than twenty years, I remained unaware, convinced that what I was doing was the best I could offer.
My approach to faith was no different. For more than twenty years, my wife faithfully attended the Church of God, hoping that our family would share in a life of faith. Yet I shut down any attempt to even mention the Church. This was not because I denied God’s existence; on the contrary, having feared death since childhood, I had long sought God in my own way. Even with the truth standing right beside me in my wife’s faith, I drifted aimlessly from one church to another until I finally settled in a Protestant denomination, convinced I had found what I was looking for. All the while, I grew even more resistant to my wife’s words.
I can only imagine how my stubbornness must have grieved my wife’s heart. Yet she never stopped encouraging me to listen to the word of God. One day, I told her to invite the pastor from her Church—not out of genuine interest, but with the intention of proving her wrong and leaving her speechless. I even prepared by writing down every argument I could think of. But when the pastor from the Church of God arrived, everything unfolded in a way I never expected. With a single verse, he shattered my assumptions: the command to keep the Sabbath. I had read that verse many times before, yet it had been nothing more than passing text; I had not even noticed the word Sabbath. Stunned, I sat there speechless, unable to argue. As I studied the Bible further, the truth became undeniable—the “Spirit and the Bride” in Revelation, and “our Mother” in Galatians. Unable to deny the truth any longer, I humbly received the blessing of new life at the Church of God.
At the time, I was stationed in Jindo, about a two-hour drive from the Zion in Gwangju. After work, I made the journey every day to study the Bible. My desire to understand the truth was so strong that the road to Zion felt almost as if it were just around the corner. Over the course of a year, I devoted myself to deepening my knowledge of the truth.
It was during that time that the love and suffering of Heavenly Mother were engraved deeply upon my heart. She has spent Her entire life pouring out boundless love on us, yet even as we receive it, we often fail to recognize it, bringing Her to tears. She also weeps for those who have not yet returned to Her embrace. Though She rejoices over every child who led to Zion, a quiet sorrow surely lingers in Her heart. That realization filled me with both gratitude and a deep, aching pain.
As I began to understand—even in a small way—Heavenly Mother’s heart, I felt a growing desire to guide the souls around me. I longed to bring Her joy and to share the love I had received freely from Her with others. But this required more than words; it demanded expressing love through action. To do so, I had to completely reassess my life and the values I had held up to that point.
Back then, I lacked both flexibility and empathy. I did not know how to consider others. Even if a soldier brought me water or scored perfectly on a shooting exercise, I never once said, “Thank you” or “Well done.” To me, such actions were hardly worth noting; bringing water was part of a subordinate’s duties, and hitting the target was simply a soldier’s basic duty.
I, who once never thought beyond my own perspective, began to see through the eyes of others. I started to notice the effort of a soldier who brought me water despite his own burdens, and I came to appreciate the determination it took to excel in training while enduring the harsh and unfamiliar life of the military. Where I had once demanded that others rise to my standard, I was now learning to humble myself and meet them at theirs. This transformation came from striving to follow the example of Heavenly Mother, who always considers Her children’s hearts, provides for their needs, and tenderly embraces their pain. Had I not realized Mother’s love, I would not have known where to begin, nor would I have felt any desire to change. But now, whenever I ask myself, “What would Mother do in this moment?” I can no longer cling to my old ways and habits.
The journey of change was far from easy. Doing things I had never done before felt awkward; I was embarrassed, and those around me did not quite know how to respond to this unfamiliar side of me. Yet after years of steady effort—overlooking others’ reactions and deliberately working to soften both my personality and my speech—I began to see change, not only within myself but also in the way people treated me.
The process was full of challenges, and life seldom unfolded as I hoped. To be honest, I had always preferred to handle matters by strictly following rules and regulations, cutting through issues without regard for others’ feelings. It felt simpler, and it shielded me from loss or blame. But when I paused to consider how Mother would feel in those moments, I could no longer act that way. Even when someone made a mistake, taking time to understand their reasoning and circumstances often led to far better results than merely reprimanding them.
Gradually, I realized that offering understanding and encouragement often achieves far more than pointing out every fault or strictly enforcing the rules. Even while faithfully following procedures, I could approach people with warmth; and it made my heart feel lighter. Now, when someone brings me a cold drink on a hot day, I say:
“Have you had any water yourself? If not, drink first. Thank you for thinking of me.”
By making a conscious effort to use gentle, considerate, encouraging, and thankful words—imbued with the love of Mother—I gradually became known among the soldiers as an officer who understood their hearts and someone they could speak to openly. When a soldier who had once been blunt came to me at the end of his service and said, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Sergeant,” I was filled with joy and gratitude, as though God’s love had been conveyed through me. Without the love of our Heavenly Father and Mother, I could never have acted this way, nor would I have received such heartfelt words in return.
As I slowly transformed, many people around me opened their hearts, came to Zion, and received the blessing of new life. While stationed in Jindo, two of my fellow soldiers accepted the truth, and at my current post, several more received the promise of salvation. Among them were my in-laws, who had long viewed my wife’s faith with skepticism. Each week, I helped with chores at their home; they observed my words and actions with curiosity, wondering what could have brought about such change. When they discovered that their son-in-law now attended the same church as their daughter, they remained silent at first. But over time, their hearts opened, and they too received the blessing of becoming God’s children.
I am deeply grateful for my life day. The immense love I have received from our Heavenly Father and Mother fills my heart to overflowing, and I am thankful to share happiness with my loved ones at Zion. A joy that is beyond words constantly fills my heart. During the remaining two years of my military service, I hope to share the blessings and joy I have received with as many people as possible.
Turning someone’s heart is never easy, but it is not impossible. I once believed that people cannot change overnight, yet I have witnessed transformation in myself—and through that, those around me have begun to change as well. Everything I have experienced flows from Mother’s love. To practice and share that love even more earnestly, I continue to ask myself every day, “What would Mother do in this situation?”