Finishing up the year with joy

We've had some cold days and my office,
which gets no sun this time of year, is a 
chilly place. It's a bit hard to see, but in this
photo from Friday I had a blanket on my lap
and a heated mat under my feet, as
well as the electric heater behind me.

The last fortnight has been pretty hectic. First our first grandchild was born, then, before we'd had much time to process that, two days later we were neck-deep into running a wrestling meet at school, an intense, exhausting event.

And we really didn't stop from there. A usual full Sunday and then straight back into work for the next five days. Lots of good things, just not much breathing room in the middle. Thankfully we've remained healthy, school finished on Friday and then we had Saturday as a proper day off. 

This morning we had a visitor from the Australian OMF office–not something that we often have received in our years here, but it was a blessing to spend a few hours with this colleague who we'd barely met before today. 

This afternoon we're finishing off various home chores and a few editing/email matters for me too. Tomorrow afternoon we head to Australia to meet our new grandchild and fully immerse ourselves in that reality for 10 days or so. I guess I should do some packing soon too.

Wrestling meet admin fun. High-decibel, high-stress
workplace for 12 hours!

It's amazing to think we're coming up to nearly two years since our last child left home (in February). There'll be time for reflecting as I write my traditional last blog post for the year in a couple of weeks, but even now, as work starts to shut down for Christmas and New Year, I can't help but feel a little thoughtful. When talking with our visitor this morning, I said that we felt fairly content with how things were at present. He grabbed hold of that word "content" and was glad to hear it. And yes, it's true. We don't know what the future will hold, but for today, we're content in general with where things are at.

Yesterday David led the service at church. The theme was joy and David lead out with the fact that it was exactly (yesterday) 25 years since we first landed in Japan. [I also played the piano for worship, which was a real joy, because it's been a long time since I got to play Christmas music for worship in a church.] 

I realise that I'd shared about the anniversary in our prayer letter last month, but not here. Here is what I wrote in our prayer letter:

Here's the link to an article I wrote for our Australian OMF magazine about the anniversary: https://omf.org/au/one-day-at-a-time-25-years-in-japan/

We don't want your praise for this achievement, but I do want to share the story in a way that gives praise to God for sustaining us here this long. The reasons why people don't get to stay that long on the mission field are many and could easily have applied to us at several points in the last quarter of a century! We're thankful for the opportunities that we've had and the glory goes to God.

I'm not taking my computer with us tomorrow for this short time with our kids in Australia, so I may not get to write another blog post until after Christmas...though a short grandma-type post might be possible using my phone! In any case, I hope you have a blessed Christmas time with loved ones, whatever that looks like in your life.

P.S. And for those who asked: no, I will not be sharing our granddaughter's name or photo on this blog, just as I've never shared my kids names or photos in this public space.

Expectations

If you're a regular here you might remember that in May I mentioned an exciting development in our family—that we were going to become grandparents this year.(See here.)

Well the day has come: on Wednesday our first grandchild was born, a granddaughter! With our hearts partly in Australia, it's been tricky at times to concentrate on the things in front of us. In the age of instant communication, it was pretty easy to stay in touch with our son as he walked through the day with his wife as things progressed. Though I think the expectation of instant communication can easily make you impatient, and I can't say I was the most patient of expectant grandparents!

It's surreal because we can only look at photos and talk with them, but I guess that's a lot better than people in the past! I've heard stories of people getting a telegram months after such an event! But, nonetheless, we're getting a tiny taste of what my parents dealt with then they became grandparents. I've said previously that leaving Australia for Japan the first time in 2000 was one of the hardest experience I've ever had: we took my parents' only grandchild with us and saying goodbye was heartrending. Then, in Japan, we had our second child a couple of years later, their second grandchild, and they didn't get to meet him for several months. And, of course, most of the last 25 years our parents haven't been able to see our kids regularly.

So now, our son, who made us parents and my parents grandparents, has made us grandparents and my parents great-grandparents! A momentous week indeed.

We get to fly to Australia in less than two weeks to meet our granddaughter and spend Christmas with all our kids. That's going to be really precious, and I'm going to try to dwell on that, because it's easy for me to let the inevitable goodbye at the end of that time to colour the time we get to spend with them all.

But I've also got a difficult decision (wink!). I made cross-stitch birth gifts for almost all my nieces and nephews (here's a blog post about one I completed in 2010). Will I continue the tradition for my grandchildren? I'm not a knitter or crocheter. I've done a lot of cross-stitch in the last 27 years, but I consider myself semi-retired from cross-stitch because it's getting much harder as my eyes age. I have a really nice magnifying/light in Australia, but couldn't fit it in my luggage to bring to Japan. I guess I could try a larger count Aida cloth and a simple pattern? I'll have to think about it...I do have some nice patterns on my shelves. We'll see.

Unexpected tears

More unexpected joy this week, but you're going to have to bear with me a tiny bit because there's backstory to why I was crying during a two-hour predominantly Japanese-language OMF celebration on Monday.

For a long time I've had a passion to share missionary's stories. It's stories that grab people's attention, and missionaries collectively have some amazing ones to tell, but often not the time or skill or passion to get them out to a wider audience. It's my joy to be pretty much working with missionaries and their stories most of the time these days. 

In 2017 I had a unique opportunity to start a blog for OMF Japan that has become a wonderful vehicle for getting missionary's stories about Japan out to a wide audience. I've had the support of OMF Japan leadership and the field in this endeavour and the last eight years we have published one story a week on our website...that's around 400 stories. At almost the same time I joined with one of my colleagues to start OMF Japan Facebook and Instagram pages as ways to get our website stories seen even further.

Fast forward to today and I'm working with a creative team of five on our social media, and getting stories from across Japan to share with thousands of our followers. In September this year we had the theme "Partnering with Japanese churches" and one of my team members asked one of her colleagues, AJ, for a story about the church that he is planting in partnership with their church. AJ wrote a really good story. As soon as I read it I knew this was important to share with our audience. So, I edited it and then we got it out there (you can see it here).

On Monday, we celebrated the 75th anniversary of missionaries coming to Japan with OMF and 60th anniversary of missionaries going from Japan to other parts of Asia with OMF. It was a joint two-hour gathering in a church in downtown Tokyo.

A portion of AJ's story was shared as a key part of the message presented by OMF International's General Director (GD), in fact, he used it to bookend his talk on John 3: 29, 30.

In particular, this bit:

When we first began exploring the idea of planting a new church, I sat down with our Japanese pastor from Hatogaya and admitted, “I am scared of this undertaking.” . . .

Pastor Oshima listened and I will never forget his response. He simply smiled and said, “That’s okay. I’m scared too. Let’s be scared together.” 

I was stunned, and delighted. And teary. 

Our organisation is very large, over 2,500 people actively engaged in various ways across the globe. The GD is from Taiwan and works in Singapore, I've met him only once and never had a conversation with him. Yet this story had reached him and he used it to encourage his largely Japanese audience (with translation) to push on in doing God's work.

I only had a tiny part to play in this, but somehow God took my "two small fish" and used them for his glory.

To be fair, there were other elements in the gathering that had me pulling out a tissue, before and after this surprise. Most of the talking was in Japanese and the only speech that I really understood was the one spoken in English by the GD. 

But we sang. One of the songs, "One Voice" I first encountered it in Japanese during our first term in Hokkaido. I learned it during a very difficult time in my life when I felt pretty useless and exhausted (two little boys under 5 + trying to work in a Japanese church without much language or capacity). It makes me emotional most times I sing it! Interestingly, the English version doesn't affect me at all!

English lyrics:

Father, we ask of You this day
Come and heal our land
Knit our hearts together
That Your glory might be seen in us
Then the world will know
That Jesus Christ is Lord

Let us be one voice that glorifies Your name
Let us be one voice declaring that You reign
Let us be one voice in love and harmony
And we pray, O God, grant us unity

Now is the time for you and I
To join our hearts in praise
That the name of Jesus
Will be lifted high above the earth
Then the world will know
That Jesus Christ is Lord

After the service they had some refreshments and there was much mingling amongst those gathered. The prayer booklet, Beneath the Surface, was for sale, in English and Japanese, this is another project that I had deep involvement in in 2019/20. I'm always excited to see it "out in the wild" as it's also one of my editing babies! I had just had a conversation the day before with someone from our church who's very excited about this booklet, she's sent it to her mum in New Zealand who is also excited and it giving it away to whoever she can. My friend asked me for 10 more copies!

I was exhausted by the end of Monday. It included four trains and an hour-long car journey and constant interaction from the moment I climbed into the car before 8 am. But also so much brimming with joy at God's good gifts to me that day. Though I periodically feel pretty useless and not worthy of being used by God in Japan, he continues to call me and to encourage me, and even use my "two small fish" (see the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand in John 6).

Unexpected joy

I had a fun day yesterday. The backdrop was autumn colour and the amazing network of people that life in missionary circles brings you. Add a layer to that: a long car trip within Tokyo made interesting by a couple of well-researched and presented podcasts. Then, later, another sound track: that of a gym full of wrestlers training and conversations with spectators. Even later, the sound of two video calls: one with a son and the other with church members from various countries sharing with one another at a prayer meeting.

Over lunch, at a cafe about 30 km away, I met up with some old friends and some new, all from the US, though almost all had spent lots of time outside that country. Conversation was wide and varied—tea and scones, life in Japan, education of deaf kids in the US (which I was appalled to hear is dreadfully lacking), Deaflympics, Costa Rica, ministry to at-risk women, and how God lead two of those present into their current ministry to missionary families with kids that have special needs. Oh, and we talked about wrestling too!

Most of those present have a child with a disability. Three of those present have a child who is a wrestler.

One family, friends of friends, was in Japan for the Deaflympics with their son who is a pretty talented wrestler, in both GrecoRoman and Freestyle (our boys only did the latter, but the former is also an Olympic sport, and basically is wrestling that only allows you to touch, or use, the upper body). I knew that these people were in town and had earlier hatched a plan to see if we couldn't connect up this young man with the CAJ wrestling team, who are currently training for the first meet of the season. It was a bit of a mad scheme that actually came off and yesterday afternoon I was also able to welcome them to CAJ and the wrestling team.

I ended up sticking around at training for a couple of hours, talking with those who were on the side, and just absorbing the wrestling vibes—remembering the faces we got to know in January and February this year when we hung out with the team for several days. Yes, it is this season again and, our part-time hobby (how else can I describe it?) is digging its claws into us again. On the first Saturday of December I'm helping David run the tournament that CAJ holds each year and we have also been asked to help out with chaperoning the girls team to an away tournament at the end of January (I'm sure I'll have more to share on that closer to the time).

But I had yet another unexpected surprise yesterday: I went looking for crutches for an injured wrestler and was surprised to discover a basketball coach who is Australian and a trained physio. So cool to find just the help we needed on campus already (and an Aussie at that!).

One of my delights is making connections between people who otherwise never would have met. I am not a matchmaker of the Anne of Green Gables sort, but I do love a good introduction that leads to a new friendship or partnership between those who are introduced.

Our day ended as most of our Wednesdays have done in recent months: with a video chat with one of our sons over dinner, followed by an online prayer meeting with more than a dozen people from our church in Japan. It was a bit of a hectic day, but when my head finally hit the pillow, I was full of joy at what God had brought my way.

Fostering gifts

It's starting to look as autumnal 
as it feels in Tokyo.

I am grappling with what it means to call myself a writer. I've been doing that for a few years now and the evidence has mounted up that I am indeed a writer, but can I fully step into the unknown and complete a bigger project of my own? As in, can I write a book?

Twice in the last week I've been challenged on this front. Last Friday I stepped out of my comfort zone and travelled into town to an in-person writers group with other English-speakers. This is only the second meeting of this group, the first meeting I attended online. In-person feels a lot more confronting and was helpful for my motivation. I had to confess that, in the last 15 years, I've written well over 3,000 blog posts. If I've got a worthwhile idea for a book (and I think I do), then somehow I have to harness the discipline that I've used to write all that on this blog to pull something longer together and push through all the way to finish the project. 

Then I stumbled upon this article called "On hoarding wealth and fostering gifts". The author writes, "God has given you talents—things you may be unusually good at. Are you using these for his glory? . . . God has bestowed on you a greater-than-usual enthusiasm for a certain issue or cause. Are you pursuing it enthusiastically?"

Summer cypress are fun bushes that
turn red in the autumn. These ones
are growing out of a crack at the side
of the road.

God has given me talents and enthusiasms. I'm no genius writer, but I have a passion for it and I've nurtured it and worked on it. I am using it for God's glory, but can I pursue it more enthusiastically? Can I be a better steward of my time?

This brings to mind a children's song called "You were bought" by Colin Buchanan (based on 1 Cor 6:19–20 ).

"You were bought at a great price

Jesus' perfect sacrifice

So in your body glorify the Lord...

So there's this couple in their late 50s

They retire to a beautiful house by the beach

They have a beautiful boat,

They play golf and tennis and they collect shells."

You can see the whole video here.

Look up or you'll miss it!

The story in the song about shells is a true story that comes from a John Piper story in his book "Don't waste your life".

The climax of the song is when they meet Jesus at judgment. 

They say, "Look Lord, see my shells." 

The song continues: "Shells schmells. It's what you do for God that counts. Don't waste your life."

It's worth pondering. So this week I've decided to make some changes to how I'm using my time, changes that I hope will allow me to push forward on this book idea much faster than I have been in the last six months!

Work retreat

For most of last week I hung out with the OMF Japan social media team. We're a five-person remote team and work from our respective homes across Japan. Our role is mobilisation: we encourage people to get more involved in mission, even if that is just knowing more about the needs for the gospel in Japan. Each team member is part-time, we've all got other ministries that we're involved in. So it was a joy to get together in one place (mostly—one member didn't join us as she's on maternity leave).

During our days together we talked about teamwork and personalities, about our mission as a team, and other team matters. But we also spent time creating together. It can be hard to just turn the creative tap on, but after working through some frustration we eventually got there. Actually, by the last afternoon I had to work hard to turn the creativity off so that we could finish our retreat and go home, even if we hadn't finished the projects we set our hands to.

My role on the team is leader, as well as writer and editor. I got to do a short writing/editing workshop with the team this year—it always amazes me how much I know about editing when I get to teach others about it (but I'm also aware that there's so much I still need to learn, especially about editing longer-form writing).

Checking out photos that one team member took.

Choosing something for lunch: yes, Japanese menus can
be huge, but (generally helpfully) include pictures.

Can you hear the creativity crackling?

Brainstorming themes for 2026

The most surprising thing to come out of the retreat was that all those at the retreat had been assessed as "NFP"s on the MBTI (our absent team member is also an "NF"). If you are my FB friend you may have seen that I was questioning my own "type" before the retreat. It's been over 25 years since I had a professional assessment of my type. At the time I was a newly wed, working as an Occupational Therapist, had no kids, and had never lived overseas. Last month I did a short online version of the assessment and came out with a different "type". I did it again a few days later and came out with yet another type. 

For the purpose of the retreat I went with my original type, but I'm left pondering how I've changed. If I recall correctly, my original type indicated that two of my categories were close to the middle. So my working theory is that because much has changed in my life that has changed me, I've grown. I've learned how to operate differently than when I was that 25 y.o., and I'm pretty comfortable with that. I'm also realising that I'm older and I don't have the same level of energy that I did before I had children. I now work a fairly "introverted" job that requires a lot of organisation skills and attention to details; I've lived for most of my adult life in a country with a very different culture and where I don't understand the language well. All these things change you. Occasionally I have opportunity to break out into my more extroverted, crazy self and that often surprises those who only know me in this context. But I love that. 

I also like that I'm able to tap into my creative side, while keeping hold of my organisational abilities. It's a sly combo of these two that have allowed me to both be part of the creative groups that attended the writer's retreat in May and the social media retreat last week, but have also allowed me to be the organiser of these retreats (something that not everyone who came are good at). The more creative part of my personality also loves the variety in my job.

Alas, last week finished and this week began and I'm back at my desk, hardly talking to anyone during the day (though I have been writing many emails). I'm glad we had the retreat, but also glad that I don't work like that all the time—by Friday night I was pretty knackered (US=exhausted). I've been catching up on all the work that got sidelined while I was away...after three solid days at my desk I'm getting there.

Opportunity to tell about a lifetime of learning to trust God

I "gave my testimony" at church a couple of weeks ago. That phrase is generally associated with telling how you came to Christ. But for some people like me, that is not an especially enthralling story because we came to Christ as a young child with no drama. I can't even remember a time I didn't believe in God, so there really isn't much to tell.

These are the gorgeous flowers
that stood in front of the lectern are
a type of protea, native to South 
Africa. But they are a close relative
to the Australian native plants:
banksias, grevilleas, and macadamias.

 But "testimony" also means "an open acknowledgment" or "a public profession of religious experience" according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary. So, I called it "A lifetime of learning to trust God" and told a bigger story about my life. I said a bit about my childhood, a bit about how I came to meet David and came to Japan, a bit about how I came to be an editor and writer. The last third of my story was about struggling to trust God as I walked alongside our kids, as they finished high school and moved into adult life. Much of this is stuff I've written about here at various times, though it was a challenge to squeeze the details out so that I could present it in under 15 minutes.

I have stood up in front of churches and other gatherings many times to tell stories about life and ministry in Japan, it's part of our job when we're on home assignment (which we've done for a total of 4 ½ years during the last 25 years). I can't remember having an opportunity like this before. I did have to give my testimony in Japanese at language school, but doing that in (my poor) Japanese was a very different experience to speaking in my heart language.

This one turned out to be a pretty teary experience, even bits that were from a very long time ago! I know that public speaking makes me nervous, which in turn makes me more likely to be emotional when I speak, so I had tissues with me, but I didn't expect be this tearful! 

But I was very encouraged by the opportunity to be heard by the whole church. An experience like that often means an emotional connection with the audience and I've had numerous conversations since then confirming that. I pray that it was helpful for some to hear that this very ordinary person, who happens to have the label "missionary", struggles in her faith, just like they do.