Running for Hope

running for Jesus

[jonkim93]

i’m back.

over the past few months i’ve occasionally flirted with writing something for tumblr again but never did, mostly because i have issues with writing about personal things in such an open forum, to an audience of -- whom, exactly? and if i’m not writing (at least somewhat vulnerably) about personal things, what am i really adding to the conversation? i look back at older posts and feel a little weird about how preachy and knowledgeable they come off, like i have so much to offer to the reader. but at the same time, i admire the younger me’s earnestness and desire to offer something useful through writing.

i don’t know. nowadays, i know that i do think it’s healthy to work things out through art and creativity, and i do think journaling is a free version of therapy, and i also think i’m probably going to write more carefully (but on the flip side, maybe less authentically?) if i know there’s a chance people will read what i write. 

sometime when i was in college, i wrote something about how i have simultaneous distaste and admiration for people who over-share on social media platforms. like, what are they really after? but also, what would it be like to feel so free?

in that post i quote the venerable (or not so venerable, nowadays) DFW: 

Really good work probably comes out of a willingness to disclose yourself, open yourself up in spiritual and emotional ways that risk making you look banal or melodramatic or naive or unhip or sappy, and to ask the reader really to feel something. To be willing to sort of die in order to move the reader, somehow. Even now I’m scared about how sappy this’ll look in print, saying this. And the effort actually to do it, not just talk about it, requires a kind of courage I don’t seem to have yet. … Maybe it’s as simple as trying to make the writing more generous and less ego-driven.

and i concluded with this:

i’d like to write generously and humbly and self-sacrificially.

so maybe that’s what i’m after, in coming back. maybe if i can write humbly, honestly, even generously -- those words will move someone. 

[robotatertot]

[hotcomicsforcoolpeople]

What’s da point!!

Drawn by Dami Lee Written by Brandon Sheffield

[jimbenton]

[piecomic]

More Cluster Fudge HERE

[jonkim93]

writing md/phd secondaries, and it's cool because for each of the schools i'm applying to, i can see different career trajectories and narratives and paths that my life could take. for example - if i go to one school, i could see myself diving into global health and engineering research aimed at solving health issues for underserved populations around the world. if i go to another, i could see myself becoming an electrical engineering guru building new medical devices. and if i don’t get into any school, there is a whole nother path that opens up, too. admittedly, that path is probably a bit more painful than the rest, but it would still be part of the narrative that God is weaving around my life. i suppose the feeling i have right now is .. one of being surrounded by many open doors and being excited to see which ones close and which stay open, and what that signifies for my path forward. this stage in my life is meant to be the beginning of a transition. but even if it ends up not being a transition, and i just stay here -- that’s ok, too. that’s part of the story, too. 

[jonkim93]

one of the essays i wrote for college apps. sorry for the melodrama -- i think it’s kind of fun, though.

---

The day was bright, inviting. I was scared out of my pants. This track meet, Bay League Preliminaries, was one of my last chances to break five minutes in the mile.

Most of my friends had already done it. As one of the varsity members, I was the odd man out. My best friend Alex Megeff had broken five a year ago; another guy, two weeks ago. I was out in the cold, nursing my 5:03 personal record and my sore ego. In long distance track, any guy who calls himself fast without a sub-five mile time is a poser and a fake. Having been considered one of the “elite” since the previous year, I was now determined to live up to that categorization.

Actually, I wasn’t even supposed to be there. My mom hadn’t wanted me to attend, because she was afraid that I would be too tired to perform well on the AP Calculus Exam the next day. My persistent protests won the day, though, and my precautious parent permitted me to partake in the meet.

The race weighed on my mind during the time leading up to the meet. That day I had to take the Spanish AP exam. While considering the proper conjugation of hacer, I was also calculating the quarter-mile splits I would need to hit to break five. 75, 75, 75, 75. Necesito correr debajo de setenta y cinco. Before the race, I didn’t want to eat my Noah’s bagel- my stomach was churning up to the moment I stepped to the starting line. Thankfully, my fears and the butterflies fell away once the gun went off. I no longer had the time nor the energy to be nervous; I just had to focus on the race.

I knew from the beginning that I would break five minutes with my brain and not my legs. So I restrained myself and held to a conservative pace that would ensure my continued strength during the entire run. I had to run under 75 seconds per quarter mile in order to break five minutes. I ran the first quarter mile in 72. A little concerned, I slowed things down. 75 seconds for the second quarter mile. Scared again, I picked up my pace for a third quarter mile in 73 seconds. By that point I knew I would break five minutes. I just needed to maintain an 80 second-per-quarter-mile pace, equivalent to about a sixty percent effort. I knew that I could jog the last lap and still achieve my goal. I was tempted to; my legs hurt and I was just about done with the race.

I didn’t. Instead, I sped through that last lap, pushing past one, two, six runners, pushing past the walls in my head, pushing down breaking down tearing down the voice in my head that said to slow down and take things easy.

A leg-burning, heart-pounding, lung-searing finish. I was on my knees. I looked up. The bright green face of the clock said, “4:53.”

[secretlyunsecret]

Full disclosure: I’m not a real climber (yet!), this is only a v1, and I didn’t make it to the top. But that’s okay because climbing is fun, climbing with friends is extra fun, and the way I see it, the only way to go from here is up! Pc: @jonathanwithadumbphone #laboulders #touchstoneclimbing #falldown7send8 #thegapyear (at LA Boulders)

tumblr-exclusive edit:

Climbing is one of those things that for some reason I really love, but I’ve pretty much accepted that I will not reach greatness in and maybe will not even reach averageness in. 

If you look at this problem you can see that actually it doesn’t look that hard for someone with an average wingspan and average sized legs to muscle through. And I know there are small climbers out there and there’s something (a lot, actually) to be said about good technique. But sometimes when I look at problems I think some of them literally just weren’t set with someone my size in mind. (I know nature sets the real routes outdoors, but that’s scary and I think for now I’ll stick to indoor thanks LOL)

Sometimes I still shake my fist at God for making me the size that I am (throwback: I am a Christian and I Fall Short), and especially when I do things like try and fail to climb rocks, I get extra salty. But how could I ever stop climbing? I think it’s definitely a challenge to compensate for size with technique and strength, and maybe I never fully will. But I’ll try. And I guess my prayer is that as I’m reminded repeatedly of my physical inadequacy, I’ll learn to stop shaking my fist at God and praise Him all the more for the lessons in perseverance, contentedness, and complete trust in His perfect design. 

that’s all. 

[humansofnewyork]

(3/6) “I wasn’t going to give up. We tried taking Grace to another hospital but they told us the same thing: ‘There’s nothing we can do.’ But then we brought her to Sloan, and they told us: ‘We think there’s one more thing we can try.’ It was an experimental antibody called Humanized 3F8. It triggered Grace’s immune system to attack her cancer. It was so painful. It felt like she was getting a root canal over her entire body. After two rounds of treatment they did another scan. They wanted to see if there was any progress. The therapy was so painful that if it wasn’t working they wanted to stop. They called me in the office to give me the results. They told Grace to wait outside. I was so nervous. I could barely stand. When I walked in, nobody was saying anything at first. I thought: ‘Oh, God. They don’t want to tell me.’ Suddenly they said: ‘This is amazing. It’s never happened before.’ And they held up her scan and the cancer was gone. It had been everywhere: her pelvis, her skull, her bones, her arms. And now it was gone. All of us started crying.” ——————————————————– You may remember the post from a few days ago that told the story of The Band of Parents, who raised $2,000,000 to fund the development of an antibody. Humanized 3F8 was that antibody. Grace’s life was saved through their efforts. Right now we are holding our own fundraiser to help the team at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in their fight against pediatric cancer. As you can see, this research saves lives. There are three days left. Over 33,000 people have donated so far and we are nearing $1.3 million. It would be amazing if we could reach 50,000 donations by the end of the series. Even if it’s a small amount, please consider donating: http://bit.ly/1TpFcdy

[humansofnewyork]

“The absolute best thing in the world that can happen to me is telling a parent that their child’s tumor is benign. I live for those moments. And the worst thing that can happen to me is telling a parent that I’ve lost their kid. It’s only happened to me five times in thirty years. And I’ve wanted to kill myself every single time. Those parents trusted me with their child. It’s a sacred trust and the ultimate responsibility is always mine. I lose sleep for days. I second-guess every decision I made. And every time I lose a child, I tell the parents: ‘I’d rather be dead than her.’ And I mean it. But I go to church every single day. And I think that I’m going to see those kids in a better place. And I’m going to tell them that I’m sorry. And hopefully they’ll say, ‘Forget it. Come on in.’” ———————————————————— As we learn these stories, we are trying to raise $1,000,000 to help the team at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in their fight against pediatric cancer. Thanks to the 15,000 people who have contributed so far. We’re almost 60% of the way there. Please consider donating:http://bit.ly/1TpFcdy

[jonkim93]

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuudge.

[humansofnewyork]

“If there’s a chance then it’s worth a try. Even if nobody else wants to try, I will try. A lot of these kids have exhausted all their options. They may have had several surgeries elsewhere and it’s either hospice or one more try. My colleagues are amazing. So I know that if I can get this lump out, the child has a chance. I view each of these kids as my own. My team is amazing but I take 100% responsibility for the outcome and I don’t like to lose a drop of blood. So it’s a lot of stress. I have four grafts in my heart. My neck muscles are always tense. Some of these surgeries have probably taken years off my life. But tumors kill kids in very horrible ways. So if there’s a chance, I will try.” ———————————————————— As we learn these stories, we are trying to raise $1,000,000 to help the team at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in their fight against pediatric cancer. Thanks to the 15,000 people who have contributed so far. We’re almost 60% of the way there. Please consider donating:http://bit.ly/1TpFcdy

[humansofnewyork]

“All doctors have those patients who sit on our shoulder. Their image is always with you. One kid will pop into your head every time you hit a wall– when you encounter a disease that is so unrelenting that you’ve exhausted all therapies and you’re still not even close. One memory will keep you going. It’s a different kid for every doctor. It’s hard to know why they stick with us. I remember one patient that had red hair just like my son. And I remember one five-year-old girl who made me laugh, because when I asked her how she was doing, she told me: ‘I don’t know. You’re the doctor.’ And then there was the boy early in my career who was born without an immune system. He’d already lost two older siblings to the same disease. He lived the first two years of his life in an isolation room with no windows, and his entire exposure to the world was through a black-and-white TV. We gave him a bone marrow transplant, and suddenly his immune system came online. And we took him for a walk in the garden. This boy who had spent his entire life in a windowless room. And a sparrow landed on a bush, and he pointed at it, and said: ‘Bird.’ That moment will always be with me.”

[piecomic]

Read more HERE 

[piecomic]

[piecomic]

TBT

[jonkim93]

i actually always wondered about this.

eye gnomes seems like the correct explanation.

[jonkim93]

i wrote this a month ago, and just came back to it. it’s rough. but honest, i think.

---

what does it take to fix the world? every woman and man and child fixing their own corner of it. what does it take to bring the kingdom of heaven to earth? every woman and man and child loving God and loving their neighbor. what do i want from my life? an opportunity to use my brains and my talents to help fix the world and love my neighbor in a meaningful way. 

during my time at home over winter break, i shadowed two family practice doctors. you can ask most people and i think they’d tell you that family practice is not a very sexy specialization. actually, i don’t know if it’s even proper to call family practice a “specialization,” since, as the two doctors put it, family doctors get to do everything. and these two doctors did. from freezing warts with liquid nitrogen to dental examinations. what struck me most about them, though, was the relationship they had with their patients. one patient told me that she had been seeing doctor harvey for fourteen years. another patient had gone to summer camp with doctor yang’s son when they were middle-school aged. these doctors greeted many of their patients with hugs. the patient-doctor relationship finds its pinnacle—or at least a local maximum—in family practice. to be a part of that—to be a trusted part of someone’s life in a regular and meaningful way—this draws me towards being a doctor. 

  these patients could sense their doctors’ care for them. one of dr. harvey’s refrains was, “we can do something about that.” “we can take care of that.” because of his training as a doctor, he was able to aid some of their most excruciating problems. he was able to love them in one of the most profound ways there is—by bringing physical healing and a relief of pain. 

  i came away from that experience with a profoundly changed view on family practice. family practitioners are not usually on the cutting edge of medicine. they’re probably not inventing crazy new devices or developing new drugs. but they build communities and networks of hope and healing, with themselves at the center, radiating care and healing outwards to meet people’s needs. i cannot see myself coming into an office day after day and hacking away at code without seeing the direct impact it may or may not be making on people’s lives. some people don’t care about doing something that matters, that will help fix the world. that’s ok, i’m not judging them. others have more faith than i do, and they can live their lives trusting that what they do matters, despite not being able to see the fruit of their labor. i am, perhaps, a person of shorter sight and smaller faith. i need to know that my work is helping people, and i need to see the fruit for myself. i really want to be a doctor.

[jonkim93]

i think what i’ve been learning recently is that a very significant part of my sin stems from the fact that i don’t really trust God fully. when i look to the world, to other people to fill the longings of my heart, i’m effectively saying to God, “i don’t trust you to fill me. i don’t trust you when you tell me you are enough for me.” perhaps this is an oversimplification, but many--if not all--of my conscious sins stem from a lack of faith. i don’t believe God is all He says He is--therefore i act in my own power to protect myself, to ensure my future. 

but incredible things happen when i step out and do the scary thing and obey God. He follows through. He delivers, and He saves. He sees my small act of faith and obedience, and then demonstrates His power. and i grow--hopefully--to trust Him more, until the next time He asks me to do something scary and He grows my faith and willingness to obey even more.

“Lord, i believe; help my unbelief.”

[jonkim93]

‘He’s Jesus Christ’

Most of the world has abandoned the civilians being bombed daily in Sudan’s Nuba Mountains. But Dr. Tom Catena saves lives there daily.