Brushes Dipped in Tears

25 January, 2026 | YOUNG TAE CHOI

Life Is a Journey of Tears 

When do you cry? 

As I look back on my 44 years of life, it feels like a journey marked by tears. I cried the moment I was born. As a child, I cried after fighting with my older brother. I remember crying out in pain at the playground after tripping and badly cutting my chin on a rock. 

As I grew older, the reasons changed. I wept in prayer over my own brokenness. I cried through my first heartbreak. I cried from the deep loneliness of being an international student, and from the intellectual frustration and emptiness I sometimes felt during my theological studies. I have grieved over the decline of the church. 

And of course, there were tears of joy—like the overwhelming emotion I felt when my children, Claire and Daniel, were born. 

We all cry for many reasons. But for those of us who follow Christ, there is a particular kind of tear: the tears shed while carrying out the mission God has placed in our hearts. 

 

The POIEO Journey: Tears for the Mission 

For me, leading POIEO over the past six years and five months has been a season filled with tears. 

There were tears when team members left—some because of theological misunderstandings, others because of political differences on COVID 19, and some who quietly moved on after benefiting from what POIEO offered. That was painful. 

There were also tears from administrative struggles. It took more than a year of legal work to move POIEO from a simple community group into a federally recognized foundation. We were rejected twice. Just last year, our application for BC government funding was denied explicitly because of our Christian identity. 

On top of this, balancing my dual calling as both a pastor and an artist has been a constant tension. Serving as a Chaplain in the Canadian Armed Forces while trying to sustain a creative life as an artist requires immense energy. Carrying the responsibility for POIEO’s long-term sustainability often kept me awake at night. 

I endured these years because I am deeply convinced that POIEO is a mission entrusted to me by God. In many ways, it has truly been a journey of tears. 

What about you? 

What kinds of tears are you shedding right now? 

 

Our Labour Is Not in Vain 

Scripture speaks directly to those moments of exhaustion. The Apostle Paul writes: 

Therefore, my beloved brothers and sisters, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labour is not in vain.” 
(1 Corinthians 15:58) 

The Greek word Paul uses for “labour” is kopos—not casual work, but toil that leads to exhaustion, trouble, suffering, and fatigue. Paul is not describing light service. He is naming work that wears you down. 

Paul knew this kind of labour personally: beatings, imprisonment, shipwrecks, hunger, betrayal, and even a persistent “thorn in the flesh” he begged God to remove. And yet, he assures us that when this work is done in the Lord, it is never wasted. Never meaningless. Never in vain. 

 

The Beauty of the Harvest 

A few months ago, while rebuilding the POIEO website with Richard and Jeremy, I spent time looking through our archives from the past six years. 

As I scrolled through the photos, I found myself in tears again. In the early days, we had very little—no status, no resources, nothing impressive. But I saw faces. Stories. Community. 

I saw how, slowly and quietly, POIEO has influenced artists in need, local churches, and even parts of the broader arts industry. Now, as a legally recognized foundation, we are able to share more resources and bless more artists. Seeing how God has worked through our weakness moved me deeply. 

Psalm 126 expresses this hope so beautifully: 

Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy. 
Those who go out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, 
shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves.” 
(Psalm 126:5–6) 

I believe Christian artists are often those who sow in tears. The path is not easy. Space within both the church and the mainstream arts world can feel narrow. Funding is limited. Platforms are scarce. Many of us live in the tension of the “in-between,” not fully belonging in either world. 

My prayer is that POIEO would continue to be a place that supports, encourages, and advocates for you in that middle space. 

 

Don’t Stop Planting 

Have you ever felt despair on this journey? Have you ever felt confused—or even regretted choosing the path of an artist of faith? 

If so, I want to encourage you: don’t stop planting. Keep sowing your seeds, even with tears. Be patient in the work the Lord has given you. And please know—you are not walking this path alone. We walk it together in Christ, as POIEO. 

I truly believe that one day we will rejoice together, carrying the harvest with songs of joy. 


Reflection Questions 

Here are three reflection questions designed for artists. 

 

1. Identifying Your "Kopos" 

The Greek word Kopos means "toil that leads to exhaustion, trouble, and fatigue." As an artist, it is easy to feel that exhaustion is a sign of failure or lack of faith. 

Reflection:  In your current creative practice, what is the specific "thorn" or "labor" that wears you down the most? How does viewing this exhaustion as Kopos—a recognized part of the Lord’s work—change the way you value your struggle? 

 

2. Navigating the "Middle Space" 

The space for Christian artists is often narrow, squeezed between a church that may not fully understand art and a secular industry that may not welcome your faith. 

Reflection: Where have you felt the "sting of the narrow path" recently? In those moments when you feel you belong nowhere, how can you shift your focus from seeking a "market" or "platform" to simply being "steadfast and immovable" in the mission God gave you? 

 

3. Trusting the Harvest in the Archives 

Young Tae found hope by looking back at the "archives"—the quiet, small beginnings of the POIEO that eventually bore fruit. 

Reflection: If you were to look back at your own "creative archives" (e.g., your old journals, early sketches, or past prayers), where can you see evidence of God using your weakness to bless others? How can those past "seeds planted in tears" give you the courage to keep planting today, even if you can’t see the harvest yet?

 

Young Tae Choi

President of POIEO

Young Tae grew up in South Korea and fell in love with Hollywood movies and Japanese graphic novels as a child. He has worked as a visual artist and filmmaker for over two decades, taught at various art institutions in South Korea and Canada, and actively shaped creative projects that have been viewed by audiences around the globe. As an ordained pastor of Presbyterian Church in Canada and the Canadian Armed Forces, Young Tae also cares deeply about wandering artists, wounded communities, and the power of the arts to renew our cultural and spiritual ecosystems.
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