A Place Prepared, by Victor Chun
Editor’s Note: This is a sermon from the celebration of life for Young Mee Chung, which took place in Coquitlam, BC in January of 2026. The message was delivered by Pastor Victor Chun, the nephew of Young Mee.
John 14:1–6
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.”
Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”
Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.
(Beginning of sermon)
Good morning.
My name is Victor, and I’m Young Mee’s nephew and it’s a deep honor for me to be asked by Uncle Paul, Maggie, Eric, and Gina to share a reflection today as we remember and celebrate Auntie Young Mee’s life.
Moments like this are never easy. We come together holding gratitude and grief at the same time. There are memories we cherish, and there is a loss we feel deeply. And it’s in moments like this that Scripture does not rush us past sorrow but meets us in it.
The passage that the family chose for me to speak on comes from John chapter 14, which was one of my aunt’s favorite books of the Bible. These are words Jesus spoke to his disciples on the night before his crucifixion. He has just told them that one of them will betray him, that another will deny him, and that he himself is about to leave them.
Heavy news. Troubling news.
And yet Jesus begins with these words:
“Do not let your hearts be troubled… I am going to prepare a place for you.”
The word that stood out to me as I reflected on this passage is the word “prepare.” In the midst of doubt and fear, it’s interesting that Jesus spoke to the disciples about preparation.
When I think of preparation, I don’t think of something loud or flashy. I think of intention. I think of care. I think of someone quietly making space so that another person will feel welcome.
Preparing a room means tidying it up, changing the sheets, making it warm, thinking ahead about what someone might need. Much of that work is unseen. It often goes unnoticed. But when you arrive, you feel it.
And as I sat with that word—prepare—I realized how deeply it reflects who Auntie Young Mee was.
She wasn’t someone who drew attention to herself. She wasn’t loud or showy. But her calm, steady, kind presence had a way of making people feel safe, welcome, and at home.
She prepared space for people.
One of the most beautiful examples of this comes from our cousin Q-Ho in Korea. I want to share his story with you as he wrote it:
(Beginning of Q-Ho’s story)
We have different names to call aunties in Korea. My father’s older brother’s wife is ‘Big Mother’ (큰어머니) and younger brother’s wife is ‘Little Mother’ (작은어머니) to me.
I met my little mother for the first time in November 1994 when I moved to Canada for my education. I stayed the first week of landing at her house and she treated me with warmth and kindness that I felt at home immediately.
However, during the same week, I learned a few things that came to my surprise. The first one was that my cousins do not speak much Korean and my English was not much better either. Also, the winter weather in Vancouver was very different from what I expected from the Christmas cards we received every year; the constant raining and the sun going down before 4pm only did so much for me to go outside.
Hence, I spent most of the time speaking with my little mother and she helped me a lot before my study started. I remember, she worried about my clothes—that the ones I brought from Korea were too summery. One day, she asked me if I wanted a winter jacket as a Christmas present, and I said if I could get warm socks instead.
When I visited her next time, she gave me a big Christmas present, and when I unwrapped it, it was fifty pairs of socks. She said that she really wanted to give me a winter jacket but I firmly refused, so she got me the socks so I do not have to buy any when I am in Vancouver, and it would be okay even if I lost one since they were all in the same color and design.
I visited Little Mother time to time after that Christmas. I, of course, started to spend more time with Maggie, Gina, and Eric as my English improved but I remember how much of a kind and thoughtful person she was, and I wish I had more time with her during my stay in Vancouver.
I stayed in Canada for five years and returned to Korea in 1999. My little mother was very right about the fact that I would never need to buy any socks or worry about losing them for those five years. It was the best Christmas present I have ever received, and I would always thank her so much for what she has done for me.
(End of Q-Ho’s story)
Fifty pairs of socks.
Not extravagant. Not flashy. But thoughtful, practical, loving. A gift that said, “I’ve thought about you. I’ve anticipated your needs. I want you to be okay. And I care about you.”
That is preparation.
And often, it’s those small, intentional acts of care that leave the deepest and longest-lasting impact.
Jesus once said, “Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth.” And he also stated that He came not to be served, but to serve. In God’s economy, the quiet, servant acts of love matter more than we realize.
I can say this personally.
About twenty years ago, I was in one of the darkest seasons of my own life. My parents were living abroad, and I needed a place to stay. I was uncertain, unsettled, and honestly, lost.
It was at that time that Auntie Young Mee welcomed me into her home.
She didn’t ask me questions about why I was there or what my next steps were. She didn’t pressure me to have answers I didn’t yet have. She simply prepared a room for me. And every day, she prepared food for me. And as anyone that has tasted her food can attest, I probably left a few pounds heavier!
That hospitality—given without conditions—was a lifeline during a season when I desperately needed one.
Eventually, I ended up in Japan, where I had a radical encounter with God and received Jesus as my Lord and Savior. I truly believe that the love and care I experienced in her home were part of the way God was preparing my heart.
Sometimes the most important work we do is simply creating space for someone else to breathe to let God do his supernatural work.
Today, for those who knew and loved Auntie Young Mee, we grieve—but we do not grieve without hope.
Jesus says, “I am going to prepare a place for you.”
We can rest assured that she is now resting in the arms of our Heavenly Father. The same God who welcomes us has welcomed her home. The place prepared for her is a place of peace, wholeness, and joy.
And for those of us who remain, her life leaves us with an invitation.
An invitation not to prioritize the big and the impressive. Not to measure a life by visibility or recognition. But to remember that small acts of kindness matter. That presence matters. That preparing space for others—emotionally, physically, spiritually—is holy work.
A meal. A listening ear. Socks. A place to stay. A calm presence. These things echo far beyond what we can see.
And ultimately, all of this points us back to Jesus.
Because while Auntie Young Mee prepared rooms, meals, and moments of welcome, Jesus is the ultimate preparer.
He prepared a way for us by giving his life for us. He prepared forgiveness through the cross. He prepared hope through the resurrection. And he prepares a literal, physical place for all who trust in him.
“I am the way,” Jesus says.
“I am the truth.”
“I am the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”
Today, as we honor Auntie Young Mee, may we also place our hope in Christ—the one who prepares a place for us, and who welcomes us home.
I’d like to end with this promise from Revelation 21:3-4:
And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.”
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes.
There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain,
for the old order of things has passed away.”
Let us pray.
