MN to AK

Somewhere between Canada and Alaska 1994

It's hard to believe that 25 has passed since my first trip up the Alaska Highway. I never dreamed I would have this amazing opportunity. I was just a girl from small town Minnesota, heading to St. Cloud State for college. I had a vision for my future. I was in control. I had a plan.

But little did I know that God also had a plan. A plan that would take me 3,000+ miles from home to a small town in Alaska. A plan that would take me out of my current situation into a beautiful place where I would find new friends, new purpose but most importantly, my way back to God. And His plan was exponentially better.

Fall 1994

I spent the next 6 months at Alaska Bible Institute in Homer, Alaska where I faced some of the hardest challenges of my life. I lived on an average of $10/month and put that money toward my daily Ramen dinner, personal supplies, and with what was left, I spent on "fun." I ran almost every day-rain or shine, through snow, cold, and wind. The ONLY thing that ever deterred me was a moose on my path. Pro tip: They always win!

Minnesota -Summer 2019

My friend Tracy and I were in an avalanche. That was the first time in my life where I truly experienced the power of prayer. I remember trying to stop myself as I was flying down. I finally came to a point where I knew there was nothing I could do in my own power, so I did the only thing I could and called out to God, "Just stop me. I can't stop myself. I know I can't stop myself." And He did. When we reflect back on that event, we can see how protected we were. There were so many rocks and trees we could have hit on the way down, and both of us stopped just shy of slamming into a huge boulder. Tracy was buried under the snow and I was covered up to my neck. It was frightening to feel so paralyzed, so trapped. But eventually, we were rescued and miraculously unscathed. 

In May 2000, Keith and I  traveled up the Alaskan Highway and spent a beautiful month on our journey. My hope is to take our kids up there someday soon before they leave home. 

I love to talk all things Alaska. If you ever want to hear more about my story, drop me a message or leave me a comment, and after we chat, I'd be happy to help you pack for your trip!! :)

happy arrival day

Okay, so I have a confession: I didn't even know what an "Arrival Day" or "Airplane Day"or the cringy "Gotcha Day" was until a few years ago. I say cringy because gotcha feels so superficial. I went to the store and got groceries. I went to the pound and got a dog. I went to the airport and got a baby. As if babies are commodities. Or like it's a big joke. "Ha, ha, gotcha!" But I digress.

Most of my friends or people who know me well are thinking, "Wait, whaa...she's adopted?" or "Whaa.. she's Korean?" It's okay. I forget most days too. Even when I look in the mirror I don't think about it. Even when I look at the Minnesotan sea of blond-haired, blue-eyed people I've grown up with and around, I don't think of it. To reference how some people have stated it, I'm like a twinkie - yellow on the outside but white on the inside. How I look is about as Korean as I get.

So I don't know why this year is different. I don't plan on having a party or anything (unless someone wants to bring me cake.). Maybe it's because I've taken three DNA tests and still wait to find a close match. Or maybe it's because I don't care that I haven't found a close match and I'm dangerously tempted to write off this whole Korean thing altogether. We humans are complicated creatures. These things called "feelings" and "emotions" just muddle everything up. That's why it's generally best not to have them, or so I've been told. 

If you ever want to talk with me about my experience or have questions, I'd be happy to dialogue with you. There isn't much you can say to offend me...unless you say crazy things such as, "I don't like chocolate," or "I can't believe you don't like green peppers." I just may have to walk away from that! 

the third time's a charm

Another one bites the dust

I know I said that the last test was my last test, but this time I really mean it! (fingers crossed behind my back...ahem). Here goes number three: Ancestry! 

Just a little background - the first test I took was free, donated to Korean Adoptees by a generous man who is interested in seeing families reunite. It is also the test being offered to people in Korea to increase the likelihood of matches. 23andme was the next test I took because it was gaining a lot of popularity, so I thought I'd throw my DNA into that bucket too. So why Ancestry? Well, I have been hearing of more success stories with this test lately and during Christmas they ran an awesome special that made a lot of people (Korean and non-Korean) jump on board. Also, there's this pretty popular event happening now where athletes from around the world have come together to compete in SOUTH KOREA. With all of the excitement, there seems to be a  rise in the number of adoptees wanting to know more about their birth place and possibly find family too. My logic tells me that once people get serious about their search, one of the first places they will start is a DNA test. Plus, it was on sale for Valentine's Day, so yeah, they had me at "sale."

I'm smiling but I hate, loathe and detest green peppers!

At the end of the day, my main motivation for doing this is in case my birth mom is looking for me. If I find a Seoul sister out of this, I'd consider that a happy win too!

I love the words from Chris Tomlin's song "Sovereign."

In your everlasting arm
All the pieces of my life
From beginning to the end
I can trust you

In your never failing love
You work everything for good
God whatever comes my way
I will trust you

Here's to finding joy in every step of the journey!

The DNA Does Not Lie

The DNA does not lie

My DNA results came back a few months ago. It is very interesting what science can reveal and also a little scary too. A few ounces of saliva and a quick google search of a name can tell a lot about a person and permanently squashes any hope of living a life off the grid.

Unofficial DNA results: The picture to the side pretty much nails it. I need coffee to survive, and life without chocolate would not be much of a life. You can fill in the blanks on the rest!

Official DNA results: 

You can see my ancestral breakdown off to the right. Different tests yield different results and like anything in life, neither are 100% accurate. But it's fun to see what's flowing through my veins.

As far as finding any birth family, my closest matches were 4th cousins and beyond so I've hit a wall there until someone closer takes one of the tests and gets into the database. I could take a few other tests, but I think two is enough!

In the fall, I plan to contact one of the adoption agencies in Korea to see if there is any hope of finding my records there. The agency here in MN told me they were destroyed in a fire or flood (eye roll), but I think there could be (or should be) something on the other end. 

I'm satisfied with the knowledge I have at this point, but if somehow in the future it is comes to light that green peppers are a component, I will question everything about me and believe that my whole life is a lie!

And the wait goes on

I am still waiting for my test results. The lead time is still about one month out. In the mean time, I decided to broaden my options by taking a 23andme test. This was always on my radar and when it went on sale around Valentine's Day, well, I couldn't pass it up the opportunity. If there's a deal to be had, I will find it!

I’ve been thinking a lot about waiting lately. 

We are all in a season of waiting for something.

It could be as simple as waiting for the light to turn green.

It could be as complex as waiting for our kid’s teenage years to pass.

Both can fill one with a ton of anxiety and frustration, but both do end in some level of joy!

I remember as a kid, I would listen intently for my favorite song to come on the radio. My boombox would be all set to record; I just had to hit unpause as soon as I heard the first few notes. Then I would listen to that song over and over, wishing the tape could rewind just a little faster. Wishing there was a magical “replay” button. Oh, how times have changed!

I believe that in the process of waiting, a certain level of character is instilled into me.

It requires patience, something that we as humans tend to lack.

It requires commitment. The temptation to walk away and just forget about it or get distracted is prevalent around every corner.

It requires me to acknowledge that many things are simply out of my control. Some things in life cannot be skipped over. There is no EASY button. I just have to press on, power through and go about my life.

Sometimes I go through trials because there is something I need to learn, and experience is the best teacher.

Sometimes I go through trials because of decisions I have made and these are the consequences.

Whatever the reason for the wait, I try to look for joy in the journey.

Of course, I also try to look for ways to speed things up. Let’s be honest here.

So I continue on.

I wait for test results.

I wait for more information.

I wait for Easter, my favorite holiday.

I wait for the laundry fairy to appear. She’s so elusive!

Thanks for waiting with me. I have heard from many of you, and it helps to know that I have you cheering me on and supporting me during this chapter of my life!

My mom's wait for me is over!
My arrival to Minneapolis
June 28, 1976

Stepping into the Vast Unknown

“The journey of 1,000 miles begins with a single step.” Lao Tzu

Yesterday, I took that first step. Actually, it was more like a series of little hops and then one ginormous step. Yesterday, I took a DNA test.

To most people, this would never come into play. It would never be necessary. Most people already know where they came from, who their parents are and perhaps, know all too well, their siblings. They can look into their mother’s eyes and see their same shade of green. They can look at their dad’s receding hairline and know exactly what’s in store for them 20 years down the road. They can look at their siblings and be convinced that they were the ones dropped from another planet.

But I am not most people.

I know none of that.

After 41 years, I am finally ready or at least ready to try to find out more about myself.

Let me share with you what I know already and then, if you’re curious, you can come alongside and join me as I venture into the vast unknown. And you’d better buckle up, because I’m sure this is going to be a bumpy one!

WHERE IT BEGAN

I was born on November 7, 1975 in a small town in South Korea.  

I was born sometime in November or maybe even late October, 1975 in a small town in South Korea.

I was found abandoned near Dongducheon and brought to a nearby orphanage on November 20, 1975 and was given a name and an estimated birthday.

I spent about 7 months there before being adopted by a family in Minnesota.

I’ve often wondered about the woman who brought me into the world. Sometimes I would dwell on it so intently that my heart would feel like it was going to explode. I can’t imagine her pain and the anguish she suffered. I don’t know the circumstances regarding my abandonment, but when I became a mother for the first time, I could only start to grasp a small portion of what she may have felt. To bring a life into this world and then have to part with it for whatever reason. To always wonder what happened to that little baby girl.

WHAT I USED TO THINK

People often ask me if I would like to find her.

I have always felt like it would be nice. Nice to know, to get my questions answered. I envision a Q&A time where I fire away my burning questions and she responds with all the answers. We hug, part ways and life goes on. It’s always been about satisfying my curiosity and my wanting. But just recently, I’ve felt this pull, this tug, that it’s not about me at all. It’s about her. It’s about satisfying her curiosity and her wanting. Did the baby have a good life? Did I make the right decision?

WHAT LED TO THIS

Many years ago, I used what limited information I have and began poking around, trying to see if I could discover any new leads or connections relating to my birth. The agency my adoptive parents used basically told me that my records were lost in a fire or flood. Well, thank you for that helpful information, sir. I took it as confirmation that it was not meant to be. But just last week, I felt the urge to try again. I searched the name of the orphanage and got some very useful information. Thank you, google and what would I do without the internet.  I won’t go into detail, but through that site, I was put into contact with a group of people who also came through that orphanage at one point or another during its existence. Furthermore, I even found a person who was there at the same time as me. How {freaking} amazing is that?! Cribmates! I probably poked her a few times through the spindles or maybe we held hands. Both sound like something I would do!

A few months ago back in November, I asked my family for a DNA test for my birthday. I hesitated and waited and stalled. I hesitated and waited and stalled. But after the events of last week, I decided it was finally time. Time to put on the big girl pants and go for it. To stop being afraid – afraid of the outcome or lack of. Afraid of what I might find or not find.

Because what if what I do find is amazing?

WHAT I HOPE FOR

A friend once quoted this to me, and it has kindof become my motto for many things in life: “Better results through lowered expectations.”

And truly, I have none.

In a perfect world, I would love to find any brothers or sisters I might have. Shooting for the stars, I would love to know who my birth mom is and to reassure her that the most painful decision she ever had to make was the right one. And, although this is debatable by some, that I turned out okay!  But mostly, that I survived.

I lived.

Her sacrifice was not in vain.

WHAT NOW

So now I enter the season of waiting and wondering. I wait for the kit to get to the lab and to be processed. Then I wait for the results to get back to me, and then I analyze that data and upload it to a database and hope that there’s a match somewhere. And I wait. And it may lead to taking a different test from a different company but that’s just too much to think about right now, and I do NOT need one more thing to do. So I will just wait and wonder. And wonder while I wait.

I have some other things I am going to write about, so please feel  free to check back or even leave a comment or question below and I will do my best to respond!

Thank you for joining me on this crazy ride! 

See, even little baby me knew this was going to be an adventure! ↓

beauty within

Let the hunt begin

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year. The snow has finally vanished for another seven months or so (fingers crossed), the buds are sprouting and the birds are all atwitter as they sing their cheerful mating songs.

But what I love most of all is the ability to get back outside to hunt for agates, nature's little jewels of happiness.

Nothing relaxes me more than slowly meandering down a country road, eyes laser focused downward as I search, and scan and hope.

Countless times, I have passed right over some beauties, only to be discovered by someone else seconds later as they walk by. It's easy to miss them because they are not always so pretty at first glance. In fact, most are covered with a layer that is downright plain, ugly, and rusty colored.

One of many jars in our collection

From a distance of five feet away, I only see the superficial and the superficial does not look anything like the inside.

True beauty lies deep beneath the surface.

People have done extensive research to determine how agates are formed and from what I can understand, it basically involves volcanic activity, lava and gas. The striations and color are all affected by a series of these types of events, creating a unique, one of a kind pattern, its own little fingerprint. And these prints can only be seen when part of the agate is chipped off or found in pieces.

True beauty is revealed through brokenness.

Ones with ugly outside (top left), bullseye (right), and the beautifully
polished (bottom)

The ones I love the most have many defined layers which are enhanced after they have gone through an extensive polishing process. In order to achieve that shiny luster, the agates are tumbled for weeks with different levels of grit to wear away the rough edges until all that's left is a super smooth, glass like finish.

Like a piece of charcoal under pressure to create a diamond or a butterfly breaking out of its cocoon, true beauty is born from adversity.

Above are some of my collection. You can see different types at various stages, each special because of its own qualities.

I hope you are able to find beauty all around you, even in the seemingly insignificant or mundane. Sometimes all it takes is a closer or deeper look, or simply the reminder that difficult times can produce wonderful endings.

So next time you're walking down a dirt road or even passing by landscape rock in a parking lot, look down. You just never know what you might discover.