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During my middle school years, when I longed to know God, a neighborhood friend led me to a rural church. By high school, I found church life enjoyable—Scripture was inspiring, singing hymns was uplifting, and serving felt like a natural duty for a believer. I attended Sunday services, evening services, Wednesday services, and Friday all-night prayers without fail, serving as a Sunday school teacher and spending nearly all day at church on Sundays. I was zealous in the youth group and even planned a short-term mission trip abroad, though it never happened. After marriage, my husband limited me to just Sunday services, and after our divorce, raising two children alone freed me from interference, allowing me to pursue the faith life I’d always wanted. Despite having little and working a modest job to support my kids, I rejoiced that God had made unworthy me His child.
My hope was to raise my children as God’s children, following His will, so I sent them to a mission school from a young age and always brought them to church. I attended a conservative, Word-centered Presbyterian church, but my curiosity about prayer and tongues drew me to a mystical church—one claiming open spiritual eyes, visions of Jesus, heaven, and hell, with daily worship, all-night prayers, and revivals. After work, I spent more time there than at home, praying in tongues for hours. Initially, it brought joy and gratitude, but something remained unfulfilled—no fruit grew within me. This church was renowned nationwide among fervent pray-ers, even attracting believers from abroad. Thinking a life of daily prayer was God’s will, I pushed myself with zeal, ignoring physical pain, sleeping mere hours, and stumbling to work half-awake. As believers flocked daily, we cast out demons and saw miracles for the possessed and sick, but my body grew weary. My zeal was my strength, but a desire to study the Word systematically pulled me away, spurred by a fellow believer’s suggestion to study theology.
I started seminary with excitement, but instead of Scripture, I studied doctrines written based on the philosophy of Plato, which connects to the teachings of theologians regarded as the founding fathers of theology—such as Augustine and Calvin—as well as to systematic theology and Reformed theology. I also learned about the thoughts and philosophies of the Church Fathers who were later deemed heretics in the Middle Ages. Origen, for example, who denied the Trinity and accepted the concept of reincarnation, was tortured and imprisoned. Therefore, this subject was essential to study in order to guide believers onto the right path. Studying Greek and Hebrew as a seminarian was profound and intriguing, but approaching it with human knowledge and philosophy only fueled my desire for more, even a graduate theology program. Then, I came to take an interest in a pastor who interpreted and preached solely based on the Bible in Hebrew and Greek, and because it matched the code of human intellect and knowledge, I experienced the joy of understanding and even the ecstasy of words, so I would repeatedly listen to his sermons. Yet, my curiosity about tongues lingered—surely they held God’s mystery. Searching online, I found the teacher’s lectures on tongues, discovered his online community, and attended his teachings. The initial shock and awe of encountering truth were indescribable—my heart raced.
Hearing about the heavenly throne left me speechless, dazed, as if struck by a hammer—not just me, but anyone listening would feel it. Even now, recalling it makes my heart pound. Unraveling long-unresolved Scriptures was wondrous and astonishing. Judgment Day, a question since youth, had eluded clear answers despite Bible studies, research, and sermons—confused by barcodes, microchips, the Vatican, or Freemasons. And it wasn’t something explained through human knowledge, but solely through the Word of God—the interpretation of ‘a time, times, and half a time’ being unfolded precisely, intricately, and concisely, one by one, was the most astonishing (especially in Daniel and Revelation), and it was fearful and truly terrifying. Also, through the messenger of the covenant—the two witnesses who appear in the Bible—it was clearly shown how the wheat and the tares would be separated, and this too was found in the Word, fitting together piece by piece like a puzzle. And when I heard the words of Revelation stating that only the twelve tribes of Israel can enter the gates of heaven, I was once again so shocked that I nearly lost consciousness. The “Worship” lecture was even more overwhelming—God Himself seemed to thunder, not the teacher, making breathing hard, my eyes glued to him. I stopped attending church worship entirely. My faith life shook to its roots after nearly 35 years of believing Christianity was true, never exploring other religions, thinking missing worship was a grave sin, and living devotedly through service. My all-night prayers had been to a fabricated God, begging for blessings; my tongues were satanic; It was a shamanistic and sorcerous ritual that summoned demons in the church while taking the name of God in vain. This flesh is Satan, yet I shouted, “Satan, be gone!” Believers claiming faith were God’s greatest enemies—Antichrists—not others, but me.
Scripture’s warning of punishment for worship timing was a staggering shock. I hadn’t realized that everything I learned in Christianity and theology was based on human knowledge—on theory, scholarship, and personal inspiration. Verses were read and then interwoven with worldly learning, stirring emotions with content not found in the Bible. Yet even when pastors taught using metaphors for every single word, we accepted it with an ‘Amen,’ simply because they were believed to be sent by God. Now I have come to realize that the very act of studying and researching God’s holy Word through human knowledge, academic methods, and logic is, in itself, ironic. Sinners are the devil’s children, yet I lived without question, thinking that Christ’s cross had resolved all my sins, pretending to be a child of God without any doubt. Christianity’s teachings on salvation, faith, hope, love, the Spirit, sin, hymns, heaven, hell, and spirit were so mismatched with truth that I was appalled—God’s providence ensured truth can’t be grasped through human knowledge. Only a shepherd sent with God’s Word and Spirit can reveal it; no one else can approach or perceive it. Singing “You were born to be loved” for comfort, I now know why God made humans, why I was born, how to live, and where I go after death—clear answers I’d never found, now learned anew in truth like a reborn child.
All I’d known was, as Scripture says, dung—worthless. Like Christ’s disciples living and learning truth, I live here with the teacher and neighbors, experiencing the Word in my body. Not just hearing and saying “Amen” to others’ insights, the Word applies directly, revealing sins from my seven emotions as ingrained habits. To be worthy of salvation, sacrificing even my life, I learn sin, evil, goodness, and righteousness in my body, aiming to be wheat, not chaff, refined like silver (Malachi) for good deeds. At first, truth in my body puzzled me—I denied, excused, and justified it. Rebuke and instruction for habitual sins, not mere mistakes, sparked anger, sadness, embarrassment, defiance—sometimes feigning acceptance outwardly while resisting inwardly. When told, “You talk too much, speak less, avoid useless words,” I couldn’t accept it. “He doesn’t know me—I’m not articulate, I listen more than I speak.” I accepted known habits but not this. Then, when that habit surfaced again and I was rebuked for it, I was led to reflect on myself. I began to wonder, ‘Why do he say I talk too much?’ and as I thought deeply and prayed about it, I later came to realize that it was because of my hot temper. When I speak loudly, I end up not being able to hear what others are saying, and due to my impatient nature, I can’t hold back when I have something to say—I have to say it quickly to feel at ease. That’s when I came to recognize this habitual trait of my personality. He said sinful habits repeat—recently rebuked again for useless chatter: “Speak only what’s needed; too many words mean too many thoughts, chasing temper, opposing God, lacking depth, blocking tongues’ gift.” When I was told to pray, like David’s confession, asking God to remove deceit and guile from my lips, I didn’t make excuses but acknowledged it and accepted it right away—and that’s when it became engraved on the tablet of my heart. Accepting without excuse engraved it on my heart—pure, clear acceptance stops sinful habits, I experienced. Not fully, but “Lord, set a guard over my mouth, keep watch over my lips, check for viper’s venom” (Psalm) came to mind. Living by my standards, thinking them supreme, I broke bit by bit, realizing this flesh is only sin, feeling its limits, seeing myself.
Even cooking revealed my habits—rushing, unsteady, clumsy, making mistakes. Cooking emotionally and hastily made dishes too salty or spicy—not errors, but habits. Recognizing my pride, I prayed for God’s guidance, making prayer a habit, slowly reducing them. Judging others’ sins automatically shifted to seeing my own—how they form, their shapes—praying with a broken heart lessened them. Learning sin and evil through my body’s habits, finding ways to reduce them, turning sin into mercy and grace, is truth, I believe. I still have much to change—too many thoughts, judgments, relying on myself over truth, absolutizing my views, repeating sins. Here, I learn sin and evil deeply, the greatest sinner—more than stars, fallen leaves—grateful beyond words for rescue from religion’s mire, still studying.
I also came to know praise for the first time through the truth, and when I heard it, it was truly beautiful. I thought, ‘This must be the kind of language spoken in heaven.’ When the content of my heartfelt concerns and prayers was delivered through praise, I felt chills throughout my entire body. On some days, I wondered, ‘Could a sinner like me truly be one of God’s people?’ There were times when I was so physically and emotionally exhausted that I didn’t know what to do, and in those desperate moments, when God answered me through praise, I wept uncontrollably. That He would give such beautiful praise to a wretched sinner like me—I was overwhelmed with gratitude beyond words.
(Praise) “How can you seek treasure in shallow waters? How can you find satisfaction in a spring without depth? Your satisfaction lies in God’s overflowing grace; seek and know the depth of love in God’s grace. Seek tears like a stream—grace in sorrow, gratitude in endurance, mercy in love. Amen.”
The praise and exhortation of God’s love are difficult to express in words, and when I hear the praise, my heart becomes enriched, cozy, and soft, and without realizing it, tears begin to flow, and it feels like treasures are being embedded one by one into my heart because of the energy that pierces deeply into my chest.
Even a few years ago, when I went to a sauna and was given praise in a hot steam room, it was truly astonishing. The teacher who received the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Truth, does not say he will pray about it or tell you after learning it from a book when asked a question anywhere, but instead gives immediate answers that are astonishing, and when you hear them, anyone can understand.
And the more you live with him, the more you realize and can clearly see the difference that he is completely different from us. He does not know like a human being through knowledge or intellect, but possesses wisdom that springs from the heart, and the ideals, providence, and Word that transcend the limits of humanity are within his heart.
The teacher, who is Moses sent by God who has received the Holy Spirit that penetrates all things, is at times fearful and terrifying, at times sharp and meticulous, discerning and caring, and also possesses the character of warmth. And for the first time, I felt God’s love that cannot be experienced anywhere else in this world.
I want to resemble, even just a little, that love which is poured out with utmost effort, wholehearted sincerity, serving and caring, and praying with tears for the weaknesses of the sheep while setting an example. It has already been nearly ten years since I came to know the truth, but I have not received the spiritual gift nor achieved repentance, and so my transformation is slow, I have no wisdom, and I am foolish and lacking.
Though I desperately struggle to have a broken and contrite heart, a heart that confesses, tearful prayers, and tears that allow me to love, like a resolution that only lasts three days, I am unable to continue, and I feel the limits of this human flesh to the bone.
What have I done with all this wasted time—there are no fruits, and all that comes are tears. Also, because I am a child of the devil who commits sin every day, I know that even if I were sent to hell this very day, I would have no excuse, and so I pray to the Lord again today. Please have mercy on me, Lord. Please have mercy on me, Lord.
If You do not grant me grace, if You do not transform me, then even if I live, this life has no meaning. Please have compassion on me.
Please kill my thoughts and govern me so that I can deny myself.
Even now, I pray that the precious Word of Truth may be delivered to those believers who, like I once did, offer worship with all their lives, blindly believing in the verse that says, “Worship in spirit and in truth” within the religion called Christianity.
In Christianity, they consider offering ancestral rites as serving other gods besides God and delivering them to idols, so they hate and even feel disgusted by it, but the worship you now claim to offer is actually a ritual to demons, not worship to God.
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