To Victory!

By Eunice Kim

I was still standing in the ocean in the midst of the moonlight. In a far distance, I dimly saw layers of long white waves rushing toward me. The white waves looked like a march of cavalry soldiers dressed in white uniforms marching toward the enemy. In my mind, I ran out to the cavalry soldiers and joined them on the back row as a rookie.
The general commanding the cavalry on the front line gave an order.
“The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So, let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light.” [Roman 13:12]
The General, on a white horse, led the cavalry soldiers, piercing through the arrows, toward the enemy line, shouting vigorously.
“To victory!”
Following the general, I shout out aloud along with other soldiers.
“To victory!”
And impetuously I recited the Bible verses that came into my mind.
“I saw Heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice He judges and wages war.” [Revelation 19:11]
The new soldiers continued to join, and the General with the white horse stood still, crying.
“To victory!” “To victory!”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Jan 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781698705309

Eunice Kim

Eunice Kim She is a Nietzsche's Philosophy, Natural Philosophy, and Biblical Philosophy Scholar. Author of “Let There Be Light and Darkness” – published in 2017 New Writer Literary Award for Fiction (“Where Were You in the Beginning”) from the World Association of Literary Artists in Korea.

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Copyright 2021 Eunice Kim.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-6987-0529-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6987-0531-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6987-0530-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021900276

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Trafford rev. 04/13/2021

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Letters to Friends

1.psd

Jesus

Paul

Dostoevsky

Nietzsche

Hermann Hess

Hemingway

Saint-Exupéry

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Written by

Eunice Kim

Recommendation:

"Eunice Kim’s book is unique in terms of her selection of characters. The characters of this story are Jesus, Paul, Dostoevsky, Nietzsche, Hermann Hesse, Hemingway, and Saint-Exupéry.

Every person—even those without knowledge of philosophy or theology—struggle with the meanings of truth, life, and death. The author tries to show readers the truth that supports all life through the values and philosophies of the characters in the story. The exciting dialogs shared between the characters will stimulate the readers’ minds and open them to more profound ways of thinking.

While reading this book, the readers will be led to a world of deep thoughts, reasoning, and faith. In this world, readers will be able to glimpse the light that permeates through the window of enlightenment. When you experience the true light, you will be able to feel and sing of the true freedom.

Eung Ryu,

Ph.D. pastor, professor

Contents

Mom’s Fear of Death

A Mysterious Encounter

Conversation with Friends

Where Do We Come From and Where Do We Go?

Four Seasons

Know Yourself!

Resurrection of The Soul

The Tree of Knowledge

Light and Darkness (Yin and Yang)

Conversation with God

Punishment

Freedom of Choice and Responsibility

Restraint by Love

By Faith

The Power of Nature

The Kingdom of Heaven in Your Heart

To Victory!

Postface

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Mom’s Fear of Death

Jane, ah! It hurts me so much! I can’t bear the pain anymore! Please help me! I’m dying!

Mom tore at her chest with thin, bony hands bruised by the analgesic injection needles. She stretched her hands toward me and screamed,

I don’t want to die… I’m scared!

She shuddered, begging for help. A nurse rushed in and, again, stuck a strong analgesic injection needle in my mother’s arm. Her fit lost its strength and she soon fell into a deep sleep.

With trembling hands, I embraced my mother. She was so skinny, just skin and bone. As I took in her pitiful state, an unbearable sorrow burst within my heart like a volcano.

My father died of a heart attack when I was in elementary school. Since then, my mother had thrown herself into life with the indomitable spirit of a soldier at war. She was the strongest woman I knew, and I used to believe that she could survive alone even in the middle of a desert. There were times in my youth when I was embarrassed of that aggressive strength.

One night when I was in high school, I heard a sob coming from my mother’s room. My mother’s breathless crying penetrated my heart. I realized then that she was just an ordinary woman who had buried her sorrow deep inside her heart.

When the next morning came, Mom was back to her usual strong-willed self. Since then I have not been embarrassed by my mother; I was proud of her.

Two years ago when I was a second-year student in college, my mother was diagnosed with gastric cancer. While I wept in despair, my mother comforted me. While stroking my back, she said,

Jane, Mom is okay… Mom can beat this illness!

My mother had surgery cutting out more than half of her stomach, but that did not eliminate the cancer cells spreading out to other parts of the body.

After that, she went through chemotherapy and all the other cancer treatments available. Since then, and for the last year and a half, my mother fought against her death with all her strength. However, her condition seriously deteriorated over the last two months. Cancer cells completely paralyzed the function of her stomach and eventually spread to her brain, causing her to show symptoms of dementia.

Mother fought fiercely and tried to keep her dignity as best as she could. As her condition worsened though, she began complaining of a rotten smell coming from her body. She would wipe herself constantly until she collapsed from exhaustion in the bathroom. Her beauty faded with her health and nothing seemed to prevent the approach of death. Finally, we had to accept the inevitable.

My mother’s body no longer obeyed her and she complained like a frightened child. My heart was torn as I watched her deteriorate. When she was hospitalized again, I took a leave of absence from school to stay with her.

My mother, feeling the shadow of death enveloping her, would wave her arms around, struggling to prevent its approach. If I could have shared some of her pain or done anything to prevent her suffering, I would have.

Finally the day came when her strength left her completely and she accepted her fate. My mother opened her eyes after a long, drug-induced sleep. She could barely hold my hand.

Jane, my poor baby… I will die now. I am afraid that I won’t be able to see you any longer. How can I leave you alone?

She cried out her unbearable sorrow.

Jane, I am so afraid. What will happen to me? What if I go to Hell? Since you have studied a lot more than your mother, can you tell me what will happen to me after I…

She was almost gone. Her eyes trembled with fear, waiting for a word of comfort.

Mom… You believe in God, don’t you?

I thought this was the best thing for my mother. My mother questioned me with an uneasy expression as if she did not understand.

Will God really save me? she whispered.

Mom, you will not die! You will go to the Kingdom of Heaven! But my uncertain and unrealistic words could not comfort my mother. Her whole body cramped up and she looked at me one last time, her face full of fear and regret. Then she closed her eyes.

My mother’s hand turned cold. The sensation filled me with an indescribable fear, so chilling that even my tears dried up.

Her body was covered with a white sheet. I shook as the terrible, frigid cold enveloped me.

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A Mysterious Encounter

My mother’s coffin awaited burial as the pastor performed a brief worship service. Her friends put roses on the coffin one by one, sharing their farewells.

My mother smiled sadly in her portrait as the roses enveloped her.

When the funeral was over and the guests had left, I stood alone in the cemetery, staring down at her grave. Solitude engulfed me and I felt regretful that I had to send my mother off with such a shabby funeral. Bitter tears ran down my cheeks.

Mom… I’m sorry!

When I returned home, I fell on my mother’s bed and wept into her pillow. I wandered the house, looking for anything that might remain of her touch. I felt as though the door would open any moment and my mother would come walking through after a day of hard work. But of course, the door remained closed.

I calmed myself down and started to put my mother’s few clothes into a box, when a particular winter coat held my eyes. The sleeves were frayed at the cuffs by many years of use. She wore that coat every winter, but I never realized just how old it was She wore that coat ever winter, but I never realized just how old it was.

I fell down on my knees, the weight of my guilt too heavy. I should have given her more attention.

Mom, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.

The more I thought of my mother’s death, the more frustrated and angry I became. It seemed