I lost my husband early in life and was a Buddhist for 30 years. Raising three daughters alone in poverty, I worked tirelessly at every job imaginable, but nothing ever worked out. My entire family suffered in body and spirit. Though my daughters all married, their turbulent marriages led to divorces, and watching them struggle brought only sighs. My eldest daughter developed depression, panic disorder, and schizophrenia, requiring psychiatric care and medication, but her condition worsened. When doctors said she needed to be admitted, it felt like the sky was collapsing. She attempted suicide three times, each time rushed to the hospital, and as a parent, all I could do was go to the temple to pray. I consulted monks, who gave me talismans and told me to offer more offerings, which I did despite our dire finances. But her illness showed no improvement, and I began to resent the Buddha I’d followed for 30 years, leaving without regret. Our family started vaguely searching for another truth. Desperate, like grasping at straws, I attended a small nearby church. I didn’t know or believe in God, so I was scared and fearful, but I went with hope for three months and spoke with the pastor. Yet, it felt no different from Buddhism or shamanism—just a different color. The pastor’s sermons didn’t resonate, and every religion seemed to want only money, so I gave what I had and left. With our family struggling, my younger daughters found this teacher online, and we went to meet him. The moment I met the teacher, I felt trust—this person could heal my daughters—and my heart eased. I asked why our family suffered in poverty. He explained, teaching us that the Bible says the poor and mourning are blessed. We felt a warm love unlike anything from any religion or place in the world. The teacher’s home felt more comfortable and familiar than our own, not strange at all. I vowed to do whatever he asked if he could heal my daughters, and though I wondered if God would accept a former Buddhist like me, he treated us like family, making my doubts feel shameful.
When I decided to abandon everything and follow the teacher, my heart wavered due to those around me. But he said, “If you believe and follow me, you’ll soon see angels or seraphim.” I’d forgotten those words until one night, between 1:00 and 1:30 a.m., my daughters woke me urgently after watching the teacher’s videos at a nearby PC café. Startled from sleep, I ran barefoot to the porch and saw something enormous and brilliantly lit—terrifying yet astonishing, unlike anything I’d seen in my life. In our small apartment corridor, three massive glowing orbs streaked across the sky, so fast my neck ached from watching. It was a dark, drizzly night with thick clouds, yet despite the usual late-night foot traffic and the playground and shops visible from our fifth-floor corridor, only the three of us saw it. The oval-shaped, fluorescent lights came close to our building, illuminating the hallway with their intensity. We asked the teacher about it, and he said, “Have you already forgotten what I told you? As you stay with me, you’ll see many miracles and wonders.” Indeed, we’ve seen, heard, and felt many astonishing things since.
The power of truth is such that even demons recognize it, trembling in fear. The teacher doesn’t casually cast out demons from the possessed, saying they must repent and fully dismantle their house of sin to prevent reentry. Yet, during teachings, he sometimes shows us God’s power. Once, a possessed person disrupted a lecture with satanic tongues, hindering others from hearing the Word. The teacher responded with powerful tongues and praise until the person could no longer resist and collapsed. As the demon left through that praise, the person regained their senses, saying, “I guess I really was possessed. It seems God held me so I could hear the Word.” This was a testimony to everyone present.
Yet, even living this wondrous life of truth with the teacher, I couldn’t kill my habits, clashing with newcomers and stumbling often. Our differing lifestyles led me to nag them, imposing my standards, just as I did raising my daughters in the world—speaking carelessly and wounding others. Knowing my habits, the teacher told me to stop, saying these people came with sick bodies and hearts and deserved pity. But unable to break my lifelong habits, I kept stumbling, and he rebuked me each time. Finally, he said, “If you don’t heed my rebuke, God will truly punish you. Pray much for them.” I hated myself for living with the same worldly habits even in the truth. Then, one day, sudden side pain struck—so severe that painkillers didn’t help. Taking over four pills a day, I felt like a knife was stabbing me. The next day, a high fever added to the agony, and for a week, I couldn’t eat or sleep, rolling in torment, praying to God to either remove the pain or take this sin-repeating sinner’s life. The teacher, seeing my tongue, sent me to a local clinic, then a larger hospital. With a high fever, I got fever-reducing shots and tests, revealing colon cancer requiring immediate surgery. But the teacher told me not to stay and to come home with five days of painkillers. Unaware it was cancer, I returned, and he rebuked me sharply, saying, “You’ve greatly shamed me.” I felt so ashamed and sorry to him and the family. I lost 9 kilograms rapidly, praying day and night, begging forgiveness for all my sins, pleading for mercy on this shameful sinner billions of times, weeping. I never returned to the hospital or took further treatment, yet, without medical care, I was healed by God’s powerful love and grace. The teacher and many family members prayed for me with tears and nursed me with devotion. Back then, I was ashamed and struggled as a sinner who shamed the teacher, but now I see that pain led me to the grace of life. Through cancer, I came to understand the hearts of all afflicted by it. Not just me, but others here came with sick bodies and hearts, and seeing them heal, nurture their spirits, and learn about sin, evil, goodness, and righteousness through the teacher confirms, “This is true truth.”
Many who come here, like me, arrive with sick bodies and scarred hearts from worldly living, mirroring my own state. Seeing the teacher sternly rebuke and discipline to correct their wrong habits, even punishing them, I feel ashamed, convicted, and conscience-stricken as if it were me. We pray and strive to reduce our habits, but we experience and feel that our will, zeal, and resolve alone can’t do it. Seeing those with the gift of tongues, I feel a stark difference from those without. Their example shows that to overcome our evil fleshly limits, we must receive the gift of tongues—the gift of love—our path to life and hope. Living long in the world, I grew sinful habits like a lush tree, unaware they were sins, but through the teacher, I learned my sins, my bad habits, causes, and roots. The saying that truth is sweet to hear but bitter and painful to apply to my body’s sins resonates deeply. Yet, I’m thankful to God for freeing me from that cycle of sin. At first, we all feared and resented the teacher’s strong rebukes to correct our habits, but even so, we feel he always prays for us. Over ten years together, his unwavering love and prayers continually affirm, “This is true truth.”
Living long in the world, I was a sinner unaware that I caused my daughters’ hearts to sicken. Learning the truth, I realized I’d been too worn and hardened by life as a single parent to love them warmly, and my evil habits twisted them. I wept and prayed much about this. Yet, unable to break lifelong habits with my own resolve, a great illness came, prompting more tearful prayers. In that near-death pain, the teacher prayed fervently for me, and his praise taught me what true love feels like. Each time I heard it amid the pain, my heart warmed and eased, bringing many tears. Feeling a warm love unlike any religion or place, I relied solely on God, praying and weeping for years. I’m deeply grateful for God’s grace leading me, and I write this hoping those seeking true truth, groping here and there, may find and experience what it is. Here, all your questions are answered, and every problem from a weary, hopeless worldly life is resolved. I pray earnestly for this.
from Deaconess Lee