Some of you may think I might be talking about my husband. Uh, actually, I’m referring to the roommate who has lived with us for the last five months.

For the sake of anonymity, let’s call him “‘Bob.” Bob graduated in August and decided that he wanted to serve God as a short-term missionary. He needed a place to stay while preparing for his journey. When Bob moved in, there weren’t any set dates or exact plans on where and when he would go, but he thought those details would be worked out. In fact, I know Bob believed God would fine-tune those details in due time. What I didn’t know was that allowing him to live with me and my husband for the next five months would be one of the most interesting and challenging events of my life.

Bob asked us if he could live with us temporarily after his graduation. All the other married couples in our ministry had multiple children or newborn babies, so it was clear that we would be the best option. We had an empty guest bedroom and no kids. Bob and my hubby were friends, so I thought it would provide an opportunity for their friendship to grow. My hope was not for it to grow into a shepherd/sheep relationship, but a “we’re-going-to-live-together-so-let’s-be-good-friends” relationship.

The first big issue we encountered was privacy, or the lack thereof. It’s no secret that my husband and I have been trying to start a family. I’ve undergone hormonal treatments to help the process along, but to no avail. I don’t know the exact reason or cause, but it seems that God’s time for us has not yet come. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. But c’mon: How were we supposed to start a family with Bob sleeping right next door? Awkward! My apologies if that’s TMI (Too Much Information).

Next, I don’t cook. Okay, I cook enough to feed my husband so he doesn’t starve to death, but I just don’t enjoy cooking. Baking I love, but not cooking. So knowing that Bob would live with us presented another challenge. I didn’t try to prove to him that I wasn’t a great housewife or ‘coworker’ by having a hot meal on the table every night. But I had to make sure there was at least some food readily available for my hubby and Bob almost every night. My irregular work schedule made that a bit difficult. All I can say is: Thank God for RAMEN! Bob and my hubby ate ramen for dinner once or twice a week. And for lunch. And, um, sometimes for breakfast? (That may have been just once.)

I also was intimidated by Bob living with us because I wasn’t sure if people from our ministry expected us to ‘train’ or ‘feed’ him spiritually by holding daily bread meetings, testimony writing, prayer time etc. At the beginning, we did have weekly prayer meetings together. And my hubby and Bob would occasionally meet in the morning to discuss a Bible passage. They played basketball together and drove to church together on Sunday. But there was a moment when I felt burdened — really burdened. Granted, my emotions were skewed at the time by the excess hormones in my body. I lashed out inappropiately at church members for not supporting me or helping me in this “common life” situation, and tried to put the responsibility on them. Fortunately, my friends at church are understanding and forgiving, and they didn’t take offense at my behavior.

One of the surprising things was how open Bob was to eating Korean food. I may not be a great cook, but I’d often make Korean-style dishes that he would eat without any complaint. I felt bad because he doesn’t like the smell of kimchee, the quintessential ingredient in Korean soups, rice dishes and main meals. I wasn’t broken hearted about not stocking up my fridge with kimchee. I’m sure if you asked my hubby, he might feel differently. But he’s not emaciated, so I guess I he survived.

A couple of months passed, but the plans for his mission trip hadn’t taken shape. We weren’t exactly sure how long Bob would be staying. Then I began to stress out. Not because I was unhappy with our living situation, but because I was scared that one day he would wake up and think that this period of his life had been a waste of time. I was worried that he would blame us and UBF people for not making the situation easier, and conclude that my life/our lives were not a representation of Jesus. You see, my life has always been about how to keep up appearances. About pretending that it revolves around Christ when really it doesn’t. My career in broadcasting glorifies vanity and image. Knowing that someone could potentially thwart that image by actually living with me and seeing what I actually do in my day-to-day life was truly frightening. But Bob didn’t judge me. He accepted me as I am.

The last five months have taught me a great deal about myself. In fact, I can even say that the whole experience was good. My hubby and I didn’t fight at all during the five months, which is something new. I think we even grew closer.

This experience has made me rethink our ministry’s practice of “common life.” When I was in college, I saw a lot of growing student disciples living with their shepherds or Bible teachers. In some cases, it seemed a necessity because the student needed a place to stay. Sometimes it was because they wanted to live in a more ‘spiritual’ environment, away from temptations of a college dorm or post-college apartment. And sometimes it was an opportunity to give them ‘training.’ In our ministry, common life has been used as a rite of passage and a sign of commitment. When I stayed in Korea before I got married, ministry leaders insisted that I live in common life with other Korean shepherdess as a form of spiritual training.

I’ve had roommates in college and, to be honest, it wasn’t easy. It’s never easy living with someone who is different from you. After my husband and I got married and began to live together, there was a lot that I had to overcome. My husband and Bob and I don’t have much in common, but somehow we made it work. Although we didn’t see eye to eye on lots of things, one thing we did share was a common identity in Christ. My husband loves Jesus. Bob loves Jesus. And I love Jesus. In the grand scheme of things, I guess that’s what’s really important.