Today marks the end of an era, with my resignation from my sending agency taking effect. I posted earlier today, pondering the question, "What do I have to show for it?" But that post, written weeks ago and scheduled to publish today, does not take into account my emotions.
Today is the day that I leave, according to insurance, payroll, and benefits, but the process of leaving has been just that ~ a process, and so I did not place much emphasis on this one day on the calendar, because these 17 years have not been about insurance, payroll, and benefits.
The finality of today has taken my emotions by surprise. This is the only "job" I have had since college. Resigning is no small thing.
In the Lord's sweet providence, I had a phone conversation with a lady in the mission office, recounting God's goodness, acknowledging some of the stresses, and rejoicing in God's faithfulness up until now and the certain hope of His faithfulness from here on out.
And! And also in the Lord's sweet providence a close friend from Japan days is on her way to my apartment with two of the team kids, and we shall do what we have done countless times before ... sort and pack a household. The Lord knew just what I would need today.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
What do I have to show for it?
Today marks the end of an era.
In the fall of 1988 I applied to our mission board. Since then, I have applied twice more (for short-term and then long-term status), done the "church tour" six times, spent twelve years of my life on Japanese soil, pouring out (hopefully, prayerfully) not only the Gospel, but my very life as well, and, in general, become a part of the mission family and been cared for and nurtured and trained by the mission.
My resignation is effective today.
I am left wondering what I have to show for the past 22 years?
In my desk I am left with
* pages of stamps in three passports,
* multiple expired visas, periods of stay, and re-entry permits,
* a couple "thanks for the last four years" pens,
* a nametag or two or three, and
* some leftover prayer cards.
In my heart I am left with
* more memories than I can count,
* deep emotional ties to people (co-workers, Japanese friends, and my support team) and places,
* a great sense of satisfaction,
* a degree of loss of my American identity,
* a degree of feeling somewhat Japanese,
* a strong sense that my true home is in heaven, and
* a certainty of God's leading me to Japan decades ago, as well as a certainty of His leading me now to marriage.
But the real question is, "What is left in heaven?"
In the fall of 1988 I applied to our mission board. Since then, I have applied twice more (for short-term and then long-term status), done the "church tour" six times, spent twelve years of my life on Japanese soil, pouring out (hopefully, prayerfully) not only the Gospel, but my very life as well, and, in general, become a part of the mission family and been cared for and nurtured and trained by the mission.
My resignation is effective today.
I am left wondering what I have to show for the past 22 years?
In my desk I am left with
* pages of stamps in three passports,
* multiple expired visas, periods of stay, and re-entry permits,
* a couple "thanks for the last four years" pens,
* a nametag or two or three, and
* some leftover prayer cards.
In my heart I am left with
* more memories than I can count,
* deep emotional ties to people (co-workers, Japanese friends, and my support team) and places,
* a great sense of satisfaction,
* a degree of loss of my American identity,
* a degree of feeling somewhat Japanese,
* a strong sense that my true home is in heaven, and
* a certainty of God's leading me to Japan decades ago, as well as a certainty of His leading me now to marriage.
But the real question is, "What is left in heaven?"
You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you.Some fruit is already visible. Some fruit is not yet visible. And so I pray. Join me, won't you?
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Rhythms of life
A year ago I was preparing to leave Japan for a year, sorting all my worldly goods into piles:
* the give-away pile
* the throw away pile
* the send back with a short-term team (as extra luggage) pile
* the pack and put in storage pile, and
* the pack in my suitcases pile.
Over the years, it has become second nature for me to know how to close up life in one country and start life in a new country, only to reverse the process a year later.
So now it is a year later! My mind is ready to gear up to reverse the process.
But the process is mixed up this time. Mid-stream I returned to Japan to sort through everything that had been put in the "put in storage pile." I divided that pile into:
* the give-away pile
* the throw away pile
* the send back on a ship pile, and
* the pack in my suitcases pile.
Instead of packing my grocery saver cards and library cards in a box in my parents' attic, I will be starting new. New grocery stores. New library.
At this point, I'm usually having my last times with friends, before an ocean separates us, and saying things like, "See you in four years!" But this time around, I'm not sure how to say "good-byes." It's only a domestic move. And I'm not planning to move back here in four years to stay a year. Does one say "good-bye" in the receiving line at the wedding???
* the give-away pile
* the throw away pile
* the send back with a short-term team (as extra luggage) pile
* the pack and put in storage pile, and
* the pack in my suitcases pile.
Over the years, it has become second nature for me to know how to close up life in one country and start life in a new country, only to reverse the process a year later.
So now it is a year later! My mind is ready to gear up to reverse the process.
But the process is mixed up this time. Mid-stream I returned to Japan to sort through everything that had been put in the "put in storage pile." I divided that pile into:
* the give-away pile
* the throw away pile
* the send back on a ship pile, and
* the pack in my suitcases pile.
Instead of packing my grocery saver cards and library cards in a box in my parents' attic, I will be starting new. New grocery stores. New library.
At this point, I'm usually having my last times with friends, before an ocean separates us, and saying things like, "See you in four years!" But this time around, I'm not sure how to say "good-byes." It's only a domestic move. And I'm not planning to move back here in four years to stay a year. Does one say "good-bye" in the receiving line at the wedding???
Monday, June 28, 2010
Script ~ 24 Hours Later
{Previous posts in this series}
24 hours later, Jim was on the road and we would not see each other for 5 1/2 weeks. (Little did we know that a few months later we would go 8+ weeks without seeing each other.)
But this time we were not living in the same world of uncertainty, as we had after our previous visits. (Of course, we were still living with the uncertainty that we all live with each day on earth.)
But God's leading was clear, and our intentions were clear and voiced and public and blessed.
Our focus had shifted.
The foundation of our relationship had cemented. We were no longer living with the tremors of shaky ground, wondering after each phone call if there would be another.
I was no longer living with two vastly different scenarios for my life come July or August, one being marrying and moving to the Midwest, and the other being returning to Japan for my next four-year term.
I had gone for a walk in the woods, and my life would never be the same again!
24 hours later, Jim was on the road and we would not see each other for 5 1/2 weeks. (Little did we know that a few months later we would go 8+ weeks without seeing each other.)
But this time we were not living in the same world of uncertainty, as we had after our previous visits. (Of course, we were still living with the uncertainty that we all live with each day on earth.)
But God's leading was clear, and our intentions were clear and voiced and public and blessed.
Our focus had shifted.
The foundation of our relationship had cemented. We were no longer living with the tremors of shaky ground, wondering after each phone call if there would be another.
I was no longer living with two vastly different scenarios for my life come July or August, one being marrying and moving to the Midwest, and the other being returning to Japan for my next four-year term.
I had gone for a walk in the woods, and my life would never be the same again!
Sunday, June 27, 2010
1000 Gifts, Vol. 3, #34
331. the preaching of the Word
332. the community within the Body
333. laughter around the table
334. creativity of young minds
335. roots and interconnectedness
336. a cousins' reunion
337. a cousin's milestone (50!)
338. Sunday morning hymns to jump-start my heart
339. answered prayer
340. faith even when we can't see
332. the community within the Body
333. laughter around the table
334. creativity of young minds
335. roots and interconnectedness
336. a cousins' reunion
337. a cousin's milestone (50!)
338. Sunday morning hymns to jump-start my heart
339. answered prayer
340. faith even when we can't see
Saturday, June 26, 2010
"As we send Judith..."
A friend wrote a group e-mail sharing a recent experience in her family, concluding with,
But overarching all of that, was the sense that Jim and I are not getting married in a vacuum. The covenant community is sending us off, in a sense. Those who have walked with us for decades, those who have comforted me in the trials of life and shared my joys as well, those who have prayed with and for us ... although they may live several states, time zones, or countries away, they are still present in our lives. They are praying for us from a distance. They are checking in as able. Many of them are coming at great sacrifice of time and money to worship with us and witness our vows.
We are not alone!
So the moral of this story, as we send Judith into her wedding month, is that God leads, protects, and provides perfectly. And he likes to do it through husbands.The moral of her story is very important, hearing her story was a huge faith boost to me, and receiving a long e-mail from her reminded me of the neat friendship God has given us.
But overarching all of that, was the sense that Jim and I are not getting married in a vacuum. The covenant community is sending us off, in a sense. Those who have walked with us for decades, those who have comforted me in the trials of life and shared my joys as well, those who have prayed with and for us ... although they may live several states, time zones, or countries away, they are still present in our lives. They are praying for us from a distance. They are checking in as able. Many of them are coming at great sacrifice of time and money to worship with us and witness our vows.
We are not alone!
Friday, June 25, 2010
The sounds of death
Ear-witnesses reported that it sounded like a bomb went off on Thursday morning when the oncoming car crossed the center line, ushering him into the presence of his Lord. The sound of the casket being closed on Monday afternoon was no less welcome.
His widow (younger than I) and her three young children then re-entered the sanctuary of a small-town church in rural Appalachia, to the accompaniment of the whoosh of almost 200 friends and family members who stood to pay our respects, and then sat again, some in the chairs squeezed into the aisle and along the outside walls.
Before and after the service, the church pianist filled our ears and minds with faith-building hymn after faith-building hymn after faith-building hymn. "In Christ Alone," "Great Is Thy Faithfulness," and, as the casket was rolled out, "How Great Thou Art!"
We listened to one of the ministers read these words:
We lifted our voices in a sacrifice of praise and sang Psalm 98A, similar to the young ladies on this video.
.
The crash, the closing of the casket, the rush of wind as 200 bodies stood and then sat, the melodies associated with hymns that sear Truth in one's bones, the reading of the Word, meditating on "the cry of command, the voice of an archangel, and the sound of the trumpet," the sounds of Psalm 98 wafting heavenward, and the pastor's closing question ("Do you believe?") rang in our ears. These are just the initial sounds.
The sobs will continue. The children will ask questions. Their mother and the covenant community will try to answer. Prayers will ascend on their behalf. The parents-in-law will recount God's goodness in the midst of pain.
But more important than the sounds of death are the EARS of the One who hears.
His widow (younger than I) and her three young children then re-entered the sanctuary of a small-town church in rural Appalachia, to the accompaniment of the whoosh of almost 200 friends and family members who stood to pay our respects, and then sat again, some in the chairs squeezed into the aisle and along the outside walls.
Before and after the service, the church pianist filled our ears and minds with faith-building hymn after faith-building hymn after faith-building hymn. "In Christ Alone," "Great Is Thy Faithfulness," and, as the casket was rolled out, "How Great Thou Art!"
We listened to one of the ministers read these words:
But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. ...
with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God.
...Therefore encourage one another with these words.
We lifted our voices in a sacrifice of praise and sang Psalm 98A, similar to the young ladies on this video.
.
The crash, the closing of the casket, the rush of wind as 200 bodies stood and then sat, the melodies associated with hymns that sear Truth in one's bones, the reading of the Word, meditating on "the cry of command, the voice of an archangel, and the sound of the trumpet," the sounds of Psalm 98 wafting heavenward, and the pastor's closing question ("Do you believe?") rang in our ears. These are just the initial sounds.
The sobs will continue. The children will ask questions. Their mother and the covenant community will try to answer. Prayers will ascend on their behalf. The parents-in-law will recount God's goodness in the midst of pain.
But more important than the sounds of death are the EARS of the One who hears.
The Lord is faithful in all his words
and kind in all his works.
The Lord upholds all who are falling
and raises up all who are bowed down.
The eyes of all look to you,
and you give them their food in due season.
You open your hand;
you satisfy the desire of every living thing.
The Lord is righteous in all his ways
and kind in all his works.
The Lord is near to all who call on him,
to all who call on him in truth.
He fulfills the desire of those who fear him;
he also hears their cry and saves them.
The Lord preserves all who love him,
but all the wicked he will destroy.
My mouth will speak the praise of the Lord,
and let all flesh bless his holy name forever and ever.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Park rangers
Of the handful of distinct memories I have from the 4-classroom elementary school I attended, one of the most distinct is when the ranger from a nearby state park came to visit.
A few weeks ago, my niece called. "Aunt J--, what are you doing today? Would you like to take us to the library?"
It's summertime, which means Summer Reading Program at the library, and that day's speaker was to be the park ranger, the same park ranger that her mother and I heard in our classroom (ahem!) more than 30 years ago.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Livingstone looks back
I have heard it many times.
My reply usually is, "God gives us each grace for whatever He has called us to do," or "It doesn't feel like a sacrifice."
David Livingstone is quoted as saying, "I never made a sacrifice." (See this article for the quote in context and a little Piper analysis.)
As I wrap up my time as a missionary and look back, I can agree with Livingstone that some things did make me pause, and it is true, as he said, that "Anxiety, sickness, suffering..." may "cause the spirit to waver, and the soul to sink."
But IT. IS. WORTH. IT.
That is the message I say to new missionaries. That is the message I repeat to single twenty-somethings in Japan who do not know a single Christian man and whose prospects of marriage look impossible.
IT. IS. WORTH. IT.
That is the message I will need to hear as a wife. The context of marriage, which provides the holy sandpaper to rub off one's rough edges and which will expose my selfish heart in ways heretofore unknown, will bring pain (as I see my sin and also the ways my sin hurts those closest to me).
But IT. IS. WORTH. IT.
Following Christ, wherever He leads, no matter the suffering, is worth it.
Because He gave HIS all for us! And HE is worthy of everything.
"I could never do what you do."
"You're making such a sacrifice."Those and other similar comments are frequently heard at missions conferences.
My reply usually is, "God gives us each grace for whatever He has called us to do," or "It doesn't feel like a sacrifice."
David Livingstone is quoted as saying, "I never made a sacrifice." (See this article for the quote in context and a little Piper analysis.)
As I wrap up my time as a missionary and look back, I can agree with Livingstone that some things did make me pause, and it is true, as he said, that "Anxiety, sickness, suffering..." may "cause the spirit to waver, and the soul to sink."
But IT. IS. WORTH. IT.
That is the message I say to new missionaries. That is the message I repeat to single twenty-somethings in Japan who do not know a single Christian man and whose prospects of marriage look impossible.
IT. IS. WORTH. IT.
That is the message I will need to hear as a wife. The context of marriage, which provides the holy sandpaper to rub off one's rough edges and which will expose my selfish heart in ways heretofore unknown, will bring pain (as I see my sin and also the ways my sin hurts those closest to me).
But IT. IS. WORTH. IT.
Following Christ, wherever He leads, no matter the suffering, is worth it.
Because He gave HIS all for us! And HE is worthy of everything.
Worthy are you, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they existed and were created.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Sing for Joy!
Who knew that the radio program, "Sing for Joy" is online, and one can listen to several years worth of the archives?!
What an exciting find tonight when I was trying to find a certain hymn and Google led me there!
Listening to a short clip immediately transported me back to Sunday afternoons of my childhood.
Such a fun discovery!!
What an exciting find tonight when I was trying to find a certain hymn and Google led me there!
Listening to a short clip immediately transported me back to Sunday afternoons of my childhood.
Such a fun discovery!!
Monday, June 21, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Marking time by seven Saturdays, #5
Today I am attending a family reunion of (or, in my case, a family introduction to) my new family.
Last Saturday I spent the afternoon with two young men ~ one, the son of a cousin on my dad's side and the other, the son of a cousin on my mom's side.
Two Saturdays ago, I was groaning inwardly and waiting eagerly as the brokenness of this fallen world was particularly evident in our church family.
Three Saturdays ago, I finally began to emerge from the fog of physical and emotional exhaustion and tackled all the projects that were waiting. In the evening, I enjoyed listening to some old-time mountain music with my cousin's son who is here for the summer.
Four Saturdays ago, my home church showered me with much love and many gifts.
Five Saturdays ago, I was totally disoriented with jet lag.
Six Saturdays ago, I was in Japan, enjoying the hot springs, packing my apartment up into boxes, and eating temakizushi with eight ladies on my team.
Six Saturdays from now ... I will be married and beginning a new life. (Listing that in the same list as the items above seems a bit matter-of-fact.)
So teach me to number my days
that I may get a heart of wisdom.
Satisfy me in the morning with your steadfast love,
that I may rejoice and be glad all my days.
Let the favor of the Lord my God be upon me,
and establish the work of my hands upon me;
yes, establish the work of my hands!
(adapted from Psalm 90.12-17)
Marking time by seven Saturdays
Marking time by seven Saturdays, #2
Marking time by seven Saturdays, #3
Marking time by seven Saturdays, #4
Last Saturday I spent the afternoon with two young men ~ one, the son of a cousin on my dad's side and the other, the son of a cousin on my mom's side.
Two Saturdays ago, I was groaning inwardly and waiting eagerly as the brokenness of this fallen world was particularly evident in our church family.
Three Saturdays ago, I finally began to emerge from the fog of physical and emotional exhaustion and tackled all the projects that were waiting. In the evening, I enjoyed listening to some old-time mountain music with my cousin's son who is here for the summer.
Four Saturdays ago, my home church showered me with much love and many gifts.
Five Saturdays ago, I was totally disoriented with jet lag.
Six Saturdays ago, I was in Japan, enjoying the hot springs, packing my apartment up into boxes, and eating temakizushi with eight ladies on my team.
Six Saturdays from now ... I will be married and beginning a new life. (Listing that in the same list as the items above seems a bit matter-of-fact.)
So teach me to number my days
that I may get a heart of wisdom.
Satisfy me in the morning with your steadfast love,
that I may rejoice and be glad all my days.
Let the favor of the Lord my God be upon me,
and establish the work of my hands upon me;
yes, establish the work of my hands!
(adapted from Psalm 90.12-17)
Marking time by seven Saturdays
Marking time by seven Saturdays, #2
Marking time by seven Saturdays, #3
Marking time by seven Saturdays, #4
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Absence makes the heart ...
Since becoming engaged four and a half months ago, we have seen each other twice.
Today will be the start of a glad weekend reunion, eight weeks after we last saw each other!
Today will be the start of a glad weekend reunion, eight weeks after we last saw each other!
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Opposite Worlds
Japanese people tend to have a lot higher tolerance for enduring the weather, be it extreme (to-an-American) cold in winter or extreme (to-an-American) heat in summer. Japanese people also tend to have a much higher commitment to preserving the earth's resources. Translated, that means a higher commitment to using less heat in winter and less air conditioning in summer. The Japanese government is seeking to lead the way with a Cool Biz campaign in summer, suggesting among other things to set the air conditioning at 82.4*F.
And that is why I always carry a folding fan in my purse during Japanese summers. And I usually make good use of it on a daily basis, and always during church services on Sunday morning.
But the world where I currently find myself has never heard of Cool Biz, and doesn't seem to believe in suffering through extreme weather when one has electricity at one's disposal.
And that is why I now carry a pashmina to church services. And I always make good use of it, wrapping it around my frigid extremities in hopes that I will prevent hypothermia during worship. Eating out in a restaurant or going shopping almost always finds me in a sweater or jacket. And while staying at a hotel last August, I actually turned the heat on. If I stay in your home, I will undoubtedly rummage through the closet seeking more blankets, even if you think the three or four you placed on the guest bed are enough.
It is COLD here ... in summer!
And that is why I always carry a folding fan in my purse during Japanese summers. And I usually make good use of it on a daily basis, and always during church services on Sunday morning.
But the world where I currently find myself has never heard of Cool Biz, and doesn't seem to believe in suffering through extreme weather when one has electricity at one's disposal.
And that is why I now carry a pashmina to church services. And I always make good use of it, wrapping it around my frigid extremities in hopes that I will prevent hypothermia during worship. Eating out in a restaurant or going shopping almost always finds me in a sweater or jacket. And while staying at a hotel last August, I actually turned the heat on. If I stay in your home, I will undoubtedly rummage through the closet seeking more blankets, even if you think the three or four you placed on the guest bed are enough.
It is COLD here ... in summer!
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Loving Warmth
I was showered with love by the ladies of the churches in my presbytery (and beyond). Their warmth and love which has encouraged me for the past 21 years during which I have been one of their missionaries will continue to warm my heart and encourage me in the next chapter of my life.
This quilt actually represents less than half of the quilt squares which were assembled for this project. Most of the other squares will be in another quilt, which is currently being quilted. The squares in the quilt pictured above were sent in after the squares for the first quilt had already been collected. A lady in my home church made this quilt (using the second batch of squares) as her gift to me ~ in four weeks!!! ~ and with absolutely beautiful hand-stitching.
And now for a digital rendition of what the first squares will look like in their own hand-quilted quilt:
Thank you, ladies!
Monday, June 14, 2010
Script ~ A Walk in the Woods, continued
{Previous posts in this series}
We scrambled up the steep hillside (with no trail) to the top of a higher ridge which is the highest hill visible across the road from my parents'.
At the crest of the ridge, we found a log and sat down. Through the twigs & branches we could just make out the silos and rooftops of the house and barns.
There Jim proposed! (And I accepted.)
And we sat and recounted God's goodness which had led us to February 8, 2010 and pondered His goodness which we are counting on to keep leading us.
We leisurely retraced our steps, with much lighter hearts, pausing some by the stream to talk about details, before we returned to Mom & Dad's, and stood in the back hall talking awhile before their faces lit up when they noticed I was wearing a ring!
As my Facebook status that night said, "I went for a walk in the woods today, and my life will never be the same again!"
We scrambled up the steep hillside (with no trail) to the top of a higher ridge which is the highest hill visible across the road from my parents'.
At the crest of the ridge, we found a log and sat down. Through the twigs & branches we could just make out the silos and rooftops of the house and barns.
There Jim proposed! (And I accepted.)
And we sat and recounted God's goodness which had led us to February 8, 2010 and pondered His goodness which we are counting on to keep leading us.
We leisurely retraced our steps, with much lighter hearts, pausing some by the stream to talk about details, before we returned to Mom & Dad's, and stood in the back hall talking awhile before their faces lit up when they noticed I was wearing a ring!
As my Facebook status that night said, "I went for a walk in the woods today, and my life will never be the same again!"
Saturday, June 12, 2010
My TV expired
I know. I know. I don't have a TV... at least in this country.
I did not grow up with TV, and enjoy living without it, but in Japan I had a TV for language and cultural adjustment reasons (and to turn on after an earthquake, to know where it was and how strong it was).
My TV is still in Japan, where friends have been using it. When I went to Japan last month, I sold it to a new missionary, who would take possession of it after the friends who are using it leave for the USA in late June.
Except that ... yesterday the friends wrote to say my TV expired.
Now I need to return the new missionary's money to him.
And if my friends had not seen an ad for free TV disposal, I would have needed to send them the money to throw it away.
Living with belongings in only one country will reduce some stress!
I did not grow up with TV, and enjoy living without it, but in Japan I had a TV for language and cultural adjustment reasons (and to turn on after an earthquake, to know where it was and how strong it was).
My TV is still in Japan, where friends have been using it. When I went to Japan last month, I sold it to a new missionary, who would take possession of it after the friends who are using it leave for the USA in late June.
Except that ... yesterday the friends wrote to say my TV expired.
Now I need to return the new missionary's money to him.
And if my friends had not seen an ad for free TV disposal, I would have needed to send them the money to throw it away.
Living with belongings in only one country will reduce some stress!
Friday, June 11, 2010
Community on wheels
The extended family was at the cemetery for the burial of their matriarch, who had lived a long, full life, patiently living by faith and urging her progeny to do the same.
My mother had obtained the house key and had collected various serving dishes from her care group from church, and I drove her (and the food) to the home of the grieving.
It was a simple activity ~ driving the car. Positioning the various dishes so that they did not spill, and smelling the wonderful aroma of the home-cooked meal as we drove down the road, I thought, "This must be what it's like to deliver Meals on Wheels."
Then I quickly realized that I was not just delivering a meal or food or nutrition, I was delivering the love and care of people who had walked with and worshiped with Mrs. H for decades!
For this grieving family, food was what communicated the church's love and care. For the next grieving family, it may be washing the windows. How have people communicated love and care to you in your grief? How have you communicated that love to others who are grieving?
My mother had obtained the house key and had collected various serving dishes from her care group from church, and I drove her (and the food) to the home of the grieving.
It was a simple activity ~ driving the car. Positioning the various dishes so that they did not spill, and smelling the wonderful aroma of the home-cooked meal as we drove down the road, I thought, "This must be what it's like to deliver Meals on Wheels."
Then I quickly realized that I was not just delivering a meal or food or nutrition, I was delivering the love and care of people who had walked with and worshiped with Mrs. H for decades!
For this grieving family, food was what communicated the church's love and care. For the next grieving family, it may be washing the windows. How have people communicated love and care to you in your grief? How have you communicated that love to others who are grieving?
Thursday, June 10, 2010
1000 Gifts, Vol. 3, #33
321. air conditioning
322. the sanctifying power of giving thanks
323. excited brown eyes
324. paired with a smile that would light up a room
325. multi-generational family meetings
326. answered prayer
327. God is on His throne
328. helpful staff in the mission office
329. ... who lighten my load
330. ... and who brighten my day :)
322. the sanctifying power of giving thanks
323. excited brown eyes
324. paired with a smile that would light up a room
325. multi-generational family meetings
326. answered prayer
327. God is on His throne
328. helpful staff in the mission office
329. ... who lighten my load
330. ... and who brighten my day :)
The Freshman HMA 15, Part II
Last year I wrote about The Freshman HMA 15 and listed several contributing factors.
A recent article in the Louisville Courier-Journal (HT: Russell Moore) reports on some other factors, not necessarily in the missionary population, but I believe much of it is applicable:
* stress,
* a feeling of isolation,
* not feeling comfortable talking honestly about unsatisfactory parts of life,
* and the sense of call, which causes stress levels to rise.
None of this excuses my behavior, but it does help me identify some of the root issues that may be contributing to the problem. The answer to several of these root problems, including the problem of it being hard to refuse someone who insists I eat their home-cooked dessert, goes back to believing the gospel and who I am in Christ, and experiencing God's gift of freedom from people-pleasing or worrying what others think.
So, next time you know a missionary on HMA, why not pray for relief from isolation and stress and for these root issues and for God's help in avoiding TheFreshman HMA 15?
And, when you invite them for a meal, how about skipping the dessert, serving a salad, and suggesting a walk together afterwards?
A recent article in the Louisville Courier-Journal (HT: Russell Moore) reports on some other factors, not necessarily in the missionary population, but I believe much of it is applicable:
* stress,
* a feeling of isolation,
* not feeling comfortable talking honestly about unsatisfactory parts of life,
* and the sense of call, which causes stress levels to rise.
"There's an enormous desire to please God first," she explained. "This is an extra level of responsibility and care. All these generate higher levels of stress."In addition,
"One of the few socially acceptable coping mechanisms for pastors is eating... . That, and it's hard for a pastor to refuse a parishioner insisting he or she try their homecooked dessert."The feeling of isolation is oftentimes all too real, as the missionary on HMA is thousands of miles from the people who have been their main support through thick and thin, a "thick and thin" that is foreign and sometimes unimaginable to the missionary's loved ones in the USA. The feeling of isolation is intensified because usually there is no other peer (i.e., missionary on HMA) nearby, and stress rises when everyone who is nearby wonders, "What does a missionary on HMA do, anyway?"
None of this excuses my behavior, but it does help me identify some of the root issues that may be contributing to the problem. The answer to several of these root problems, including the problem of it being hard to refuse someone who insists I eat their home-cooked dessert, goes back to believing the gospel and who I am in Christ, and experiencing God's gift of freedom from people-pleasing or worrying what others think.
So, next time you know a missionary on HMA, why not pray for relief from isolation and stress and for these root issues and for God's help in avoiding The
And, when you invite them for a meal, how about skipping the dessert, serving a salad, and suggesting a walk together afterwards?
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Hide-and-seek
I never played as much hide-and-seek as I did the fall of 1989. New to the neighborhood (actually, new to the country!), many afternoons I tagged along when four or five of the MKs in the family I was living with and helping went to the neighborhood park.
Counting to twenty in Japanese was a skill I gained quickly!
The neighborhood park, which in reality was more of a gravel area about the size of a house, with some old metal pieces of playground equipment on it, was surrounded by 5+ story concrete apartment buildings, and just a few minutes from the MKs' home.
For some reason the memory that has always stood out in my mind of an interaction with their second son that year took place at that neighborhood park. The image of him that is cemented in my mind is set against the backdrop of the gravel and the concrete apartment buildings crowded around, his soon-to-be-lanky ten-year-old form asking me a question.
Last week a new memory was etched on my mind, as I visited a couple hours with his parents who were on vacation a couple hours from my HMA home. Second son and his wife and children were also there, in and out of the room, in and out of the conversation. He is no longer a ten-year-old!
Although he has three or four years of direct cross-cultural ministry on two continents under his belt, again he asked me a question. This time the question had nothing to do with hide-and-seek or neighborhood parks. This time the question had to do with the neighborhood of earth and my insights into going out and seeking those who are hiding from the holy God.
He will soon be playing with his own children in a neighborhood park on another continent, as he and his family seek out the hidden ones. May they find many!
For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.
And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice.
Counting to twenty in Japanese was a skill I gained quickly!
The neighborhood park, which in reality was more of a gravel area about the size of a house, with some old metal pieces of playground equipment on it, was surrounded by 5+ story concrete apartment buildings, and just a few minutes from the MKs' home.
For some reason the memory that has always stood out in my mind of an interaction with their second son that year took place at that neighborhood park. The image of him that is cemented in my mind is set against the backdrop of the gravel and the concrete apartment buildings crowded around, his soon-to-be-lanky ten-year-old form asking me a question.
Last week a new memory was etched on my mind, as I visited a couple hours with his parents who were on vacation a couple hours from my HMA home. Second son and his wife and children were also there, in and out of the room, in and out of the conversation. He is no longer a ten-year-old!
Although he has three or four years of direct cross-cultural ministry on two continents under his belt, again he asked me a question. This time the question had nothing to do with hide-and-seek or neighborhood parks. This time the question had to do with the neighborhood of earth and my insights into going out and seeking those who are hiding from the holy God.
He will soon be playing with his own children in a neighborhood park on another continent, as he and his family seek out the hidden ones. May they find many!
For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.
And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Finger pointing, or not-so-universal gestures
Running into a longtime family friend, and answering her questions of how we're doing, I mentioned the wedding.
"Whose wedding?" she asked.
As my index finger pointed to my nose before I could even say, "Mine," I realized subconsciously that that gesture is not the American way of pointing to oneself.
But it was as if I were being controlled by something stronger, and could not move my finger nine inches lower to my chest.
That "something stronger" would be years and years of cultural adaptation in a country where one points to one's nose to refer to oneself.
Oh, well.
"Whose wedding?" she asked.
As my index finger pointed to my nose before I could even say, "Mine," I realized subconsciously that that gesture is not the American way of pointing to oneself.
But it was as if I were being controlled by something stronger, and could not move my finger nine inches lower to my chest.
That "something stronger" would be years and years of cultural adaptation in a country where one points to one's nose to refer to oneself.
Oh, well.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Script ~ A Walk in the Woods
{Previous posts in this series}
Bill Bryson's walk in the woods served to ease his adjustment back to this country and to a new era in his life.
Jim and I took our own walk in the woods, and, like Bryson's, it signifies a new era in my life. My life will never be the same again!
After our late-ish breakfast, we played some Dominoes, and then had a leisurely lunch with my parents. After a game of Dominoes with them, Jim and I took advantage of the sunny day to go for a walk. Rain had thwarted us at Christmastime, when we were headed up Snow Hollow, so we set out again six weeks later.
Going down the road a quarter mile, we turned into what used to be a farm road by an old corncrib and kept walking, heading up into the woods. There's a clearing by the spring-fed stream where my parents sometimes have cookouts. We kept going to the top of the ridge to the property line which runs roughly parallel to the road. Looking down the other side of the ridge, we could see the houses in that hollow.
We scrambled up the steep hillside (with no trail) to the top of a higher ridge which is the highest hill visible across the road from my parents'.
{to be continued}
Returning to the U.S. after 20 years in England, Iowa native Bryson decided to reconnect with his mother country by hiking the length of the 2100-mile Appalachian Trail.The result is his book, A Walk in the Woods.
Bill Bryson's walk in the woods served to ease his adjustment back to this country and to a new era in his life.
Jim and I took our own walk in the woods, and, like Bryson's, it signifies a new era in my life. My life will never be the same again!
After our late-ish breakfast, we played some Dominoes, and then had a leisurely lunch with my parents. After a game of Dominoes with them, Jim and I took advantage of the sunny day to go for a walk. Rain had thwarted us at Christmastime, when we were headed up Snow Hollow, so we set out again six weeks later.
Going down the road a quarter mile, we turned into what used to be a farm road by an old corncrib and kept walking, heading up into the woods. There's a clearing by the spring-fed stream where my parents sometimes have cookouts. We kept going to the top of the ridge to the property line which runs roughly parallel to the road. Looking down the other side of the ridge, we could see the houses in that hollow.
We scrambled up the steep hillside (with no trail) to the top of a higher ridge which is the highest hill visible across the road from my parents'.
{to be continued}
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Shoes
In my rush out the door, I slip on a pair of shoes.
And many times, when I get to where I am going, I look down, and think, "Oops! These shoes don't match."
In Japan, it's not as big of a deal, because often when I get to where I'm going, I take my shoes off when I enter the building.
I cannot cover my mistake so conveniently here in America.
And many times, when I get to where I am going, I look down, and think, "Oops! These shoes don't match."
In Japan, it's not as big of a deal, because often when I get to where I'm going, I take my shoes off when I enter the building.
I cannot cover my mistake so conveniently here in America.
Friday, June 4, 2010
1000 Gifts, Vol. 3, #32
311. deeply discounted books at Ross & Tuesday Morning
312. deeply discounted napkins for my wedding reception
313. a friend who spotted them at Tuesday Morning
314. successfully buying out the supply at all TMs in the Tri-Cities
315. a matching outfit (same brand) found at two thrift stores
316. a fridge full of healthy leftovers
317. pretzel M&M's (not included in the healthy leftovers)
318. coupons for free goat's cheese and BOGO hummus
319. flavored Triscuits
320. the faithful provision of all my needs by my generous Father
312. deeply discounted napkins for my wedding reception
313. a friend who spotted them at Tuesday Morning
314. successfully buying out the supply at all TMs in the Tri-Cities
315. a matching outfit (same brand) found at two thrift stores
316. a fridge full of healthy leftovers
317. pretzel M&M's (not included in the healthy leftovers)
318. coupons for free goat's cheese and BOGO hummus
319. flavored Triscuits
320. the faithful provision of all my needs by my generous Father
Thursday, June 3, 2010
1000 Gifts, Vol. 3, #31
301. audible tears from heads bowed in a small country church on the last Sunday in May
302. an elder who not only led us in worship and in prayer and to the throne of grace, but also led us in grief and tears
303. a congregation grieving together
304. a grieving pastor preaching with unction
305. the sure and certain promises of God in His Word
306. a challenge to live in light of eternity
307. a challenge to love God more than our sin or even other good things
308. a challenge to love God with everything we have
309. a rebuke of our conditional worship
310. a reminder to
302. an elder who not only led us in worship and in prayer and to the throne of grace, but also led us in grief and tears
303. a congregation grieving together
304. a grieving pastor preaching with unction
305. the sure and certain promises of God in His Word
306. a challenge to live in light of eternity
307. a challenge to love God more than our sin or even other good things
308. a challenge to love God with everything we have
309. a rebuke of our conditional worship
310. a reminder to
Tell me the story always, if you would really be,
In any time of trouble, a comforter to me.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
1000 Gifts, Vol. 3, #30
291. setting a table for more than one
292. family to share the table
293. external motivation to tidy my apartment :)
294. wild roses and sweet peas by the side of the road
295. memories of picking wild roses and sweet peas in that very spot 30+ years ago with a cousin who was spending the summer
296. said cousin's son spending the summer of 2010 here
297. "You will be my people, and I will be your God."
298. being reminded of the Swedish method
299. a Sunday morning flower arrangement of poppies
300. the creative play of young nieces
292. family to share the table
293. external motivation to tidy my apartment :)
294. wild roses and sweet peas by the side of the road
295. memories of picking wild roses and sweet peas in that very spot 30+ years ago with a cousin who was spending the summer
296. said cousin's son spending the summer of 2010 here
297. "You will be my people, and I will be your God."
298. being reminded of the Swedish method
299. a Sunday morning flower arrangement of poppies
300. the creative play of young nieces
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Lasts and Firsts
I've had my last dental appointment with the dentist I've been going to since I was in college.
(And, sitting in his chair, the thought came to me, "I have to get used to a new dentist!")
Two days before that, I sat in the hairdresser's chair, wondering how long it will take me to find a new hairdresser.
Last week I went to an annual church picnic, and realized, "It's my last church picnic as a member of this church."
The season of lasts has arrived.
The hardest "last" is when you realize, "This might be the last time I see this person."
Moves are always beyond stressful for me, but this one has sneaked up on me. Until recently, my mind has not been preparing for a move per se, but for a wedding and the start of a new life. But a move is included, and so now my mind begins to prepare for a move as well.
What is the hardest thing for you to adapt to when you move? Every time I moved in Japan, the hardest thing was finding a dry cleaner's that was on my route.
(And, sitting in his chair, the thought came to me, "I have to get used to a new dentist!")
Two days before that, I sat in the hairdresser's chair, wondering how long it will take me to find a new hairdresser.
Last week I went to an annual church picnic, and realized, "It's my last church picnic as a member of this church."
The season of lasts has arrived.
The hardest "last" is when you realize, "This might be the last time I see this person."
Moves are always beyond stressful for me, but this one has sneaked up on me. Until recently, my mind has not been preparing for a move per se, but for a wedding and the start of a new life. But a move is included, and so now my mind begins to prepare for a move as well.
What is the hardest thing for you to adapt to when you move? Every time I moved in Japan, the hardest thing was finding a dry cleaner's that was on my route.
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