Lessons in Reflection and Self-Care
I was born and raised in Korea, where I first came to faith, nurtured my spiritual life, and studied theology. Yet, as always, God led me to an unexpected place. Now, I serve as a priest in an American church. While nationality and cultural differences should never be barriers to spreading the gospel and working for God’s kingdom, they do shape the reality of ministry. Throughout history, world missions have overcome such barriers, yet in American society, where white and male supremacy persist, serving as an Asian woman priest presents unique challenges. Still, I walk this pastoral path with faith.
My ministry unfolds in a historic Episcopal church in midtown Manhattan, a 200-year-old traditional Anglo-Catholic congregation where boys’ and men’s choirs sing beautiful hymns almost daily. Reactions to my presence are varied. Some are surprised to see a female priest in a Catholic-style church. Others, despite watching me lead the liturgy in full vestments, repeatedly ask if I am really a priest. And yet, there are also those who shed tears, telling me that my presence has brought them healing.
It has been four years since I began serving as an associate priest for Pan-Asian Ministry in an American church. At first, I approached this role with confidence, believing that the effort itself was a success, regardless of the outcome. But over time, anxiety crept in. Adding to this, I recently experienced physical symptoms that signaled a need for reflection and self-care. It was then that I recalled my time in Shalem’s Going Deeper program for clergy that had provided me with deep spiritual nourishment.
Last summer, as I was leaving Bon Secours after completing the year-long Going Deeper program, I had a small but telling experience. I had successfully completed the entire program and bid a bittersweet farewell to those who had shared the past year with me. But just as I was about to leave, panic set in—I couldn’t remember where I had placed my room key.
I was certain I had kept the key safe, yet it was nowhere to be found. Frantically, I searched my handbag, retraced my steps, and even asked the staff for help. We returned to the room and checked everywhere, while anxiously watching the clock. If I missed my taxi, I would miss my train to New York, throwing my schedule into chaos. My mind raced to the worst-case scenario. In that moment, my inner peace vanished. Was the spiritual maturity I had cultivated over the past year meaningless in the face of such a trivial crisis? Was God testing me one last time? As I resigned myself to the situation, the staff decided to issue a new key. Rushing to leave, I absentmindedly slipped my hand into my back pocket—and there it was. The key had been with me all along.
Relieved, I waited for my taxi. But minutes passed, and it didn’t arrive. Just as panic threatened to rise again, Laura, a fellow participant from my peer group, noticed my distress. Without hesitation, she offered to drive me to the station. Thanks to her generosity, I arrived just in time, enjoying a comfortable ride and good conversation instead of an expensive, stressful taxi trip.
As I settled into my train seat, I reflected on the experience. My life felt much like that moment of losing the key. How easily I had succumbed to fear and frustration! And yet, everything I needed had already been with me—both within me and in the form of support around me. But had I forgotten this truth? Had I been living as if I lacked what was necessary? That day, I received an invaluable lesson: what I seek is often already within me. And sometimes, no matter how much I plan, I must rely on the grace of others to carry me through.
Even now, as I navigate moments of anxiety in ministry, I remember that lesson. Ministry is not about executing my plans but about allowing God to work through me according to God’s plan. I already possess the strength to walk this path—a path that deepens my relationship with God, my congregation, and God’s mission in the world. I simply need to recognize it. Just like that missing key in my back pocket, the power to move forward has been with me all along. All I have to do is trust, reach for it, and take the next step in faith.
*Going Deeper: Clergy Spiritual Life & Leadership is now accepting applications. Click HERE for more information on the program and upcoming information sessions.*
Wow! I am so grateful for this reflection and for your open vulnerability! Rev. Lee-Pae, I commend you and thank you for your heart-felt faith and testimony! I would love to meet you! I am a woman pastor and spent precious time in Korea with the PC(USA) as Volunteer in Mission and as a Mission Co-worker in Seoul. Our first daughter was born there. Thank you for helping to connect Shalem and Korea!!! In my “retirement” God’s Spirit guides me to serve, listen, love, and preach wherever I find or lose myself! I will be holding you and those you serve in my heart and prayers on a regular basis!
Thank you Juyoung for your leadership as a WOMAN priest . Your courage, faith, wisdom and persistence in this vital role inspire me. As does your humility and transparency in sharing about the simple experiences in every day life that challenge us and how you relate this to your spiritual depth .
Rev. Lee-Pae, your story reminds me of the Paula D’Arcy quotation, that “God comes to us disguised as our daily lives.” Losing our room keys when trying to get to the airport on time seems like a small thing, but it’s NOT, as you so beautifully describe. I once left my purse in the ladies room at the San Francisco airport, and had a crying, wailing panic attack with kindness from TSA officials, the SF Police, United Airlines and Avis Rental Car reps and of course many strangers, before an angel in disguise brought it back to me. I made my flight and cried with gratitude and humility all the way back to DC. I’d love to meet you sometime to share our “Lost and Found” experiences! : )