I was going around our new community, when we chanced upon one of our long lost church members who was recently forced out of their old home due to a road widening project. The place where they had now moved into is located behind a beautifully built Korean church. The church had all the modern features of an infrastructure that money could afford them, and outside it were parked all kinds of cars. The people who were flocking out of the place after the worship service were all clad in their formals, each with a cellphone stuck in their ears. They were mostly talking in fluent English, discussing matters of business, politics, the latest fad, and other sorts of high society matters.
As my churchmate showed me the way to her house, I saw the stark contrast between their world and the worship place flanking the front of their small community. The walkway was irregular and rocky, and had it not been for the sturdy shoes I was wearing, the rocks could have easily torn through my soles. They were also narrow and extremely branched out. You could easliy get lost if you had no one guiding you.
I reached our churchmate’s house after three confusing turns. The house looked just like any other house in the small community: it had only one room, all containing the sleeping area, kitchen, laundry area, bathroom, and enough space for watching a second hand television set. The house had no ceiling above it, and no flooring beneath it. A few planks of wood were used as makeshift beds on one side of the house. There was only one bulb lighting the house, and it had to borrow electricity from a house who was borrowing from four other houses.
The lady even tried to offer us drinks, but we refused, saying we just passed by. After a quick prayer and a few moments of fellowship, we bid goodbye to our churchmate.
I have never been to a place which contained a taste of heaven and hell both at the same time.