Evidence of Peace After the Storm: Shelly’s Journey of Faith and Resilience

A few weeks ago, a quiet but profound reunion took place in a church sanctuary in South Korea. Two women, "Shelly" and "Barbara," crossed paths during a service. On the surface, it was a warm greeting between friends. For us at Crossing Borders, it was a powerful testament to the long-term impact of emotional and spiritual restoration.

Shelly, a former resident of our Elim House shelter, appeared noticeably healthier and more vibrant than when she first arrived years ago. Her story is a window into the complex hardships North Korean refugees face—and the incredible strength found when they discover their identity in Christ.

The Weight of Sacrifice: Life in North Korea

Shelly’s journey began with a level of sacrifice that is difficult to fathom. Coming from a high-ranking family in North Korea, she chose to marry a man whose social status was "tainted" because his family were South Korean prisoners of war (POW).

To protect her husband from the severe discrimination and labor camps often reserved for those with his background, Shelly’s father used his influence and resources to pay constant bribes. Through Shelly's family's support, her husband was not only protected but was eventually promoted to a leadership position. Shelly gave up her comfort and social standing to build a life for her family, a burden she carried through their eventual escape to South Korea.

The Pain of Betrayal and the Reality of Trauma

A North Korean refugee woman takes notes during a Sunday worship service.

While we celebrate stories of freedom, the reality of past and present trauma is difficult for most North Korean refugees to overcome. The transition to a new life often masks scars of the past. Despite Shelly’s immense sacrifices, her husband was repeatedly unfaithful—both in North Korea and after their arrival in South Korea.

The final breaking point came when Shelly sought stability for her future. When she asked her husband for financial assistance to secure a home, he refused to contribute even a cent. After decades of putting his needs above her own, Shelly was left with a deep sense of disillusionment.

Moving Beyond Bitterness

For a long time, Shelly’s prayers were dominated by the weight of this betrayal. She admits that she spent many days crying before God, her heart filled with anger and a desire for justice.

Today, the situation has shifted. Her ex-husband, now alone after being abandoned by a mistress, is struggling with significant health issues. While their daughter has encouraged a reconciliation, Shelly has found the strength to maintain firm boundaries. Her decision isn't born of malice, but of a newfound clarity. She is no longer defined by the chaos of her past or the actions of a man who did not value her.

A New Identity: Finding Rest in Christ

What we witnessed at that church reunion was a woman who has moved from "survival mode" to a life of true "rest." Shelly told us:

“I now realize that God is truly alive and working in my life. Walking with Him is where I find my happiness.”

Shelly has found a peace that isn't dependent on her circumstances. She now serves as a singer in her church’s mission choir, using her voice to honor the God who sustained her.

Becoming Salt and Light

One of the most moving parts of Shelly's update is her desire to give back. Despite her own modest means, she reached out to Crossing Borders expressing a desire to donate rice to Elim House. She wants to support the sisters who are currently standing where she once stood—exhausted, broken, and searching for hope.

In the North Korean refugee community, where trauma is often the common language, Shelly has become "salt and light." She is a living example that while we cannot always change the painful chapters of our past, we can walk into a new future anchored in a God who restores.

Stand With Our Sisters

Shelly’s story reminds us of God’s loving and steady hand of doing the long-term work of emotional healing and providing spiritual guidance.

Please join us in prayer for:

• Shelly: For continued strength as she serves her church and navigates her new life.

• Her Ex-Husband: For repentance and that he might find the same peace Shelly has discovered.

• The Refugee Community: For the many others still caught in the cycle of trauma, that they would find their "mother’s home" and ultimate rest in Christ.

Being Family to North Korean Refugees for the Holidays

Alone in South Korea

Chuseok is the most important holiday for North and South Koreans alike. This holiday, much like Thanksgiving in the US, is meant for celebrating the bounty of harvest, gathering with loved ones, and honoring ancestors. For the women we serve, it’s often a day of profound loneliness.

This is why Crossing Borders hosts a Chuseok retreat each year as part of our ongoing care for the refugees who we helped in the past. An invitation goes out to those who we have cared for at Elim House and in China that remain in contact with our team. For each of the women in attendance, it was a chance for Crossing Borders to continue to minister and care for them in a country that is fraught with pitfalls and hardship.

The Vulnerability of North Koreans in South Korea

Most North Koreans arrive in South Korea from China. Most refugees were trafficked in China. Though most of these marriages are oppressive in nature, the one thing that their captivity in China did for them was insulate them from the many other dangers that societies often have. For example, because many refugees in China were not allowed out of their houses, they were not exposed to people who might want to scam or defraud them. Similarly, the North Korean government's oppressive information blackout, while a tool of control, also insulates its people from modern perils like pornography, misinformation, and the addictive nature of digital media.

When refugees get to South Korea, they are exposed to a great many influences in their lives. The allure of a materialistic society often makes them hungry to attain resources by any means necessary. The yearning for companionship often leads them to relationships with men who abuse and use them. The longing for a relationship with God often exposes refugees to cults.

Four of the women at this retreat confided in our social worker that they were paid by a Christian cult to attend their services. Jenny, a North Korean woman who stayed in Elim House for over a year, who often refers to her time with us as transformational, also fell victim to the allure for money. At this retreat, Jenny lifted her hands and enthusiastically worshipped the Lord. She was engaged in the sermons and activities. It was only after the retreat that Jenny confessed to our social worker that she had fallen prey to this cult. In tears, Jenny later decided to “return to her first love.”

Conflict and the Seed of Forgiveness

Another woman, Bethany, who was asked to leave Elim House this summer after a fight with another resident, was invited back to our retreat. Bethany’s past trauma has left her quick to trust but even quicker to feel attacked. We saw this again at our retreat when a simple comment from her bunkmate sent her into a spiral, immediately demanding to be moved.

Sadly, this is the lens through which she sees the world. So when Pastor Tom, our guest speaker for this retreat, preached on the difficult call to forgive, Bethany's reaction wasn't joy, but a visible slump in her chair. The message had clearly struck a nerve, brushing up against a lifetime of hurt and lashing out.

But that seed of forgiveness, however painfully received, began to grow. Bethany got into a conflict with a new neighbor. Her old response would have been to lash out and retreat. And she did lash out, telling the woman, "Your mother didn’t raise you right." But then, something new happened. She was struck by the fact that this woman was the same age as her own estranged daughter in China. This painful self-awareness—realizing she, too, was a mother unable to "raise" her child—convicted her. In a profound step of healing, Bethany went back to the neighbor and apologized. Bethany told us she wants to believe in God but is finding it hard. Her courageous apology shows us that, even in her struggle, God is already at work, changing her heart from the inside out.

As we continue our work in South Korea, we realize that there will be very few miraculous and sudden conversion stories at events like our retreat. We have learned that our role is to be a steady hand in the lives of the women who we encounter. Though many have lashed out at our staff, we’re thankful for their humble and sacrificial care for refugees.

Esther - To A Hungry Soul Every Bitter Thing Is Sweet

A woman we call “Esther” arrived at Elim House just a few weeks ago. Esther is 59 years old. She defected from North Korea 20 years ago, spent about 15 days in China, and then, with the help of a Christian organization, arrived in South Korea in 2004.

After coming to South Korea, she earned a license to be a skin care instructor and worked as a lecturer at an academy. She attended university in North Korea and has never been married. She said that her studies in traditional Korean medicine in North Korea helped her excel at her skin care job, which earned her a lot of money.

Just as she was earning good money and planning to travel and enjoy life, she was in a serious car accident. She was in a coma for six months. While in the hospital, she had a dream where she saw her deceased family members from North Korea peacefully tending to flowers. They called out to her to join them, but someone grabbed her foot, preventing her from going. Esther believes she was saved because it was not her time to die.

loneliness in south korea

Recently, during their time of morning devotions, the women at Elim House read through Proverbs 27 and Esther shared how Proverbs 27:7 spoke to her as she let us into a part of her past.

“A satisfied soul loathes the honeycomb, but to a hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet.”

— Proverbs 27:7 (ESV)

“After leaving Hanawon, I received housing in Seoul but went three days without eating. I didn't know how to cook rice in a rice cooker, so I looked for a fireplace and a place to make a fire but couldn't find one, so I couldn't cook rice. For three days, I only drank tap water. On the first day, the tap water smelled of disinfectant, but as I continued to starve, by the third day, I didn't even notice the disinfectant smell and just drank the water.

I also received a cell phone but didn't know anyone, so I found the number of the personal protection (police) officer assigned to me and asked for help. The personal protection officer was surprised to hear about my situation, bought various side dishes from the market, prepared them, and even brought extra packages of rice cakes to distribute to my neighbors.

Even though I knocked on neighbors' doors to say hello and share rice cake with them, I was surprised by their cold and unwelcoming responses. In North Korea, when someone moves into a new home, people come first to share things, ask where they are from, and warmly welcome them, but in my experience, South Koreans were the opposite, and keep to themselves.”

Mental Health Care

Shortly after arriving at Elim House, Esther was seen by a psychiatrist who concluded that she has post-traumatic stress, obsessive-compulsive tendencies, and paranoid delusions, leading to high stress levels and emotional instability. Shortly after she arrived in Elim House, she shared with our social worker Cindy some of her delusions. Cindy then began to encourage her to take her medications.

Esther, who had seen a psychiatrist but never took the medication she was prescribed, agreed to take the prescription this time after acknowledging her current condition.

We are thankful to have Esther join us for however long the Lord would have her stay. It is encouraging to see God working to heal and soften her heart. During Sunday service at Elim House, through tears, she confessed that she cannot live without God and expressed her realization of having lived apart from God for so long.

Getting Ready

"Sung" during break time at our retreat for North Korean children.

At the end of our summer retreat for the children in our network, a young man 17 years of age sat weeping in the back of a van headed back to his orphanage.

"Sung" would always volunteer to help out with whatever the counselors needed help with. He always eagerly rallied the rest of the kids and gently scolded them when they fell out of line. He organized the younger kids in skits and other activities.

Sung is an excellent student and, unlike many of the other kids in our network, will be going to an academic college to further his studies. He stands about 6 feet tall, almost a head above the rest of the children. His posture is always impeccable.

But behind his kind and capable exterior is a world of pain. Unlike so many of the orphans in our network, Sung knew his mother well. She was a North Korean refugee who was sold to his father in 1999. She is often described by Sung and those who knew her as smart and loving. When he was in grade school, she was diagnosed with liver cancer and died shortly thereafter. He has a lot of good memories of his mother.

After his mother died, things went downhill for Sung and his father. Things got so bad that his father had to send him to an orphanage. That's how we met him.

Though his life and academics turned around, Sung never fully recovered emotionally from the trauma of losing his mother. We do not know exactly why he was crying as he was leaving the retreat for the last time. But we think it was because he felt loved by the counselors and staff who took the time to visit him every year.

Though we cannot quantify this statistically or measure it in some formula, we know that children like Sung deserve the best love we can give. We pride ourselves on our ability to prepare our orphans for adulthood but we know that this means nothing if they don’t feel loved. This is our job, to prepare them and love them. We will do this for as long as God allows.