I currently live in LA's Koreatown. It has been over 30 years since I immigrated from Korea, and after moving between various jobs, I have been working for 20 years at a supply company for a sewing factory. It seems rare to have such a bad economy as we do these days. Especially since the end of last year when discussions about President Trump's re-election began, the economic flow has slowed down, and my boss is struggling, making the atmosphere in and out of the company quite tense.

At my age, it is not easy to seek a new path, and at 63, retiring feels like I am not yet prepared, leaving me with various worries that won't leave my mind.

I live with my wife. Our daughter is doing well in New York. She was bright from a young age, studied well, and now works as a dentist, having married a good husband and moved to New York. At first, I was happy, but after she left, the house feels so quiet. In the past, when I came home from work, I always heard my daughter's voice, but these days, the living room just feels empty.

My wife feels the same way, not knowing how to fill the void left by our daughter, just repeating household chores, and some days, she seems to sit blankly. Even when we watch TV together, the conversation has dwindled, and meals are no longer as enjoyable as before. We tried to laugh it off, calling it 'empty nest syndrome,' but honestly, it hasn't been easy.

Then one day, my wife suggested we go back to church. We had been making excuses for a while due to being busy, but I decided to go along just to get some fresh air, and thus we stepped back into our faith life.

I never expected it would soothe my heart like this.

The Korean church was not just a place for religious activities. There were middle-aged men like me, lonely and anxious. Some had closed their businesses, some were struggling with distance from their families, and others were dealing with health issues. Even without words, there was a shared understanding in the atmosphere....

A cup of coffee shared after mass, conversations during Bible study, and the warmth felt in worship. I realized how lonely I had been in the immigrant community, and it was only within the church that I truly understood.

In fact, the life of an immigrant is not always stable. Language, culture, economic uncertainty, and longing for one's homeland... I think these feelings build up deep inside and then burst out at some point.

Korean churches, including Korean Catholic churches, are places that understand those feelings.

Even without someone saying they are hurting first, there are people who quietly sit beside you and pray.

In the brief greeting every Sunday, asking, "How have you been?" there is so much comfort contained.

My wife and I are now participating in church group meetings.

Sometimes we talk with younger couples, listening to their concerns, which reminds us of our own youth.

Now I think... living as an immigrant in America is not just about making money.

When the heart is weary and shaken, something is needed to hold you again.

For me, that was the Bible and the community of the church, and faith.

Above all, I feel more acutely grateful these days for the space of the 'Korean church' where I can be comforted in the same language.

If there is anyone reading this who feels empty and lonely these days, I encourage you to visit a nearby Korean Catholic church or Korean church.

Even without faith, you can find enough comfort just from the warmth of people.

I leave this writing with the hope that we all can live together, not alone, on this land of America.