Looking back at 2023

Ever since I stared writing here in 2009, I’ve been using this blog to reflect on the year just lived. For the last five years I’ve been using the same set of questions. These questions push me past the surface reflections, so they aren’t easy, but it’s a good exercise that I enjoy. They aren’t about what I’ve achieved in the year. I hope they might be a springboard for you to think about your own year too.

Christmas Day on the beach 2023

1. What makes this year unforgettable?

Some big changes this year for us mean this year will be a noteworthy year for the rest of our lives: 

• Our youngest son finished high school, that’s a huge milestone for our family after 20 years of children at school.
• We moved out of the house we’ve spent the most time in for our whole marriage, the house that our youngest son started kindergarten from.
• It wasn’t just a simple move, this move included downsizing and storing stuff for our year away from Japan.
• The move also marked the end of our younger two sons’ time in Japan. In July they moved to Australia with the intent of staying here, at least in the medium term, which is a huge change, considering one of them was born in Japan and the other moved there when he was less than three months old.

2. What did I enjoy doing this year?

We have just celebrated Christmas with both our birth families. It’s really different doing this with older kids, it was much calmer and more enjoyable than in times past.

It’s been enjoyable seeing our three sons, who are now all 18 and over, getting to know one another as adults. Being together in the same region for several months has been wonderful. Parenting is hard work and long work—it’s very satisfying seeing some reward for all the years of effort you’ve put into them as you watch them gain confidence and skills as they grow much more independent.

It’s been enjoyable spending more time with David these last few months. We’ve enjoyed lunches and occasionally other meals on our front deck in Ipswich (a beautiful view). Three weeks Perth without children was an interesting adventure that involved both work and play. It was fun to see glimpses of what’s not very far in our future, but that is really next week’s blog post.

I enjoyed watching my youngest son as he powered his way through the school’s wrestling season undefeated. After many years of injury interrupting his participation in this sport, I really didn’t expect him to do it at all, and then to achieve as well as he did was very satisfying. He went on from there to do really well in shot put and discus in the track and field season too. 

Going to two women’s retreats—one in March in Japan and one in October in Australia—with close friends was definitely enjoyable.

3. What/who is one thing/person I'm grateful for?

Of course I can’t limit it to just one person or thing. I’m grateful to a handful of precious friends who’ve walked alongside me this year. It’s not been an easy year and I’ve leaned on friends, not to mentioned David, heavily to stay afloat.

4. What did I read/watch/listen to that made the most impact this year?

I’ve read more than 100 books again this year, more in the second half of the year than the first. Undeceptions podcast continues to be a thought-provoking listen, though I haven’t listened to as much of that in the second half of the year with less alone time than I usually get in Japan.

Here are some of the books that made an impact

Trusting God by Jerry Bridges

Being Mortal by Atul Gawande

Sacred Siblings by Sue Eenigenberg and Suzy Grumelot

When God Doesn’t Answer Your Prayer by Jerry Sittser

5. What did I worry about most and how did it turn out?

There were many things that I worried about this year, including who to hand my work over to so we could leave Japan for a year and how we would find somewhere to live in Australia (the latter being a big concern because everywhere we turned people were telling us of horror stories about the rental crisis in Australia).

I split my jobs into multiple parts and handed them over in late May and early June. That part worked so well that I ended up with extra time to do preparation for work in Australia that I hadn’t planned for. Both of the publishing projects I managed (Japan Harvest magazine and OMF Japan’s social media) have continued onwards, so I guess I did okay in handing them over. But I know it wasn’t easy for those who have taken extra things on in my absence. It helped to remember that we had important work to do in Australia, even if I didn’t really want to make the effort to get there.

Our accommodation story is a lot easier to tell. We got a house really quickly, with the on-the-ground assistance of a lady from our home church who we’d never met in person. It’s been a really good find, with very little we can fault. Great landlords; beautiful, convenient location; and functionally just right. We also have all the furniture we need, including a large TV and fabulous fridge.

6. What is my biggest regret?

This is always a hard question. I think I regret all the time I spent worrying about the future. It’s a bad habit that is hard to break, and even now I’m struggling not to worry about the first half of 2024.

7. What's something that has changed about me?

I’m no longer the parent of a school-aged kid. I’m also no longer in my 40s. I’m also on the verge of having all my kids move out of home.

I feel more and more that I am a writer and editor and more often when pressed will describe myself as such these days.

8. What surprised me most this year?

Probably my answer to #5 covers a good portion of this. 

But in addition, I’ve been surprised this last week. I’ve been surprised by how “adult” all my boys have been. In the middle of last year we did a similar “tour” without the Christmas celebrations and extra family time thrown in, and it was much harder. They’ve all grown in maturity, which is a great joy to see in what amounts to a stressful situation (travel, sharing rooms, lots of people, many unspoken expectations, lack of routine etc.). Over the years of raising our kids, visiting family in Australia has always been stressful for a few reasons: they’ve rarely seen their Australian relatives, it always involves significant travel, they aren’t in their own environment and Australia was never really “home”, and they were energetic boys (the first grandsons on both sides). Maturity has helped a lot and that meant that this time around I didn’t have to spend much time at all being their advocates or working to keep the peace.

The other big surprise was quickly finding a government-funded program that accepted our neurodiverse son which has helped him do employment readiness and help him find a job (the end of that story is yet to be written, but we’re hopeful).

9. What Bible truths impacted me this year?

In the latter half of the year, reading Trusting God has been significant. I dipped my toe in with some ladies from church in a Bible study (when I could get there), then read it from front to back on my own. The book takes you back to basics about God’s sovereignty and love, and confronts you about how you live in light of these truths.

10. What meta-themes have I thought about this year? (in no particular order)

• Transition
• Aging
• Women and their roles (especially within Christian circles) and non-romantic relationships between Christians (see Sacred Siblings book).
• Whether God’s leading us to stay in Japan after 2023 (we think he is).
• Life with grown kids who don’t live at home anymore.
• Disability support in Australia.
• Downsizing.
• How Japan Harvest is produced and how that can be done with me less involved.

Highlights

• Our youngest finishing high school, especially his athletic achievements, but also seeing his persistence in working hard academically and the great friendships he had the privilege to be part of.
• All-Japan OMF conference in June was both exhausting and wonderful.
• Writing a series of six articles about the process of preparing for and going on home assignment for the US branch of our organisation, and also recording a discussion with a colleague about the same topic. All of this was published mid-year online.
• Being able to watch a lot of cricket, especially watching Australia unexpectedly win the semi-final and final of the one day international cricket World Cup (which involved staying up way past my usual bedtime twice in one week). Making it to two cricket matches in-person.
• Going to a symphony orchestra performance in person for my birthday.
• Visiting Rottnest Island in WA.
• Speaking at a women’s conference and “losing it” onstage as I tried to speak briefly about the long-term griefs that cross-cultural workers encounter. I put this as a highlight because, while it was very hard to do, it was true to myself and my desire to show others how ordinary missionaries are. But the other reason it’s a highlight is that the response was overwhelming, in a positive way. I had many conversations afterwards with women who understood (and were glad to hear someone tell this unspoken story), had their eyes opened, or who wanted to learn more.
• I think my blog post that got the most attention this year was “Neurodivergence and missionary families”. Maybe this doesn’t belong as a “highlight”?
• Camping in late March was lovely, unfortunately we’ve not be able to manage any other camping trips in 2023.

Lowlights

• Moving—I really don’t like moving, never have. And the anticipation of moving is almost as bad as the move itself.
• Watching our sons pack up their lives in the place they’ve grown up and say goodbye to friends and Japan.
• Walking alongside our son as he negotiated medical and other difficulties, and then trying to figure out how to help him start to forge a life in Australia.
• Exhaustion. We’ve been able to really slow down in the last couple of months of the year and have realised how much toll the past few years have taken on us (obviously culminating in a huge, stressful transition). It’s been hard to have less structure and purpose in our days, but also to realise that our energy levels weren’t what we were used to either.

Other thoughts

This category is for other things that don’t really fit anywhere else…

This year I was invited to join a couple of groups of women who are all mums of kids with various types of disability. Most of them live in Japan (or have spent significant time there) and many of them are expats. One group is mostly Christians and the other is not. I’ve only met them a handful of times, but the depth of connection is quite remarkable. I wrote a bit about this under the subheading “Being heard” in this blog post in February.

Ultimately, I’m glad 2023 is over. It contained big highlights, but also big milestones and a lot of hard work and exhaustion. It’s encouraging to look back and see how God has sustained us and provided for us through it all.

In the second blog post I wrote this year I quoted Psalm 103, and I think it’s a good place to finish. Here is some of what I wrote in January:

“There are lots of nuggets in [Psalm 103] to ponder. Just now I'm leaning into these phrases: "Your youth is renewed like the eagle’s" (v. 5 NIV) and "As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. The life of mortals is like grass, they flourish like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more" (vv. 13–16).

'Twas the week before Christmas

I did my usual Monday grocery shop this week and was a little overwhelmed by the crowds. It was hard to get a park in the huge carpark under our local shopping centre (there are more than 3,000 car parks at the centre, the majority of them are undercover). And in the grocery store itself there were lots of people "hunting in packs" and more notable were those who looked like they'd been at it for a long time: their trolleys were full to overflowing, they held long lists, their eyes were bleary, and occasionally they could be heard on the phone consulting other important parties. It was pretty crazy.

'Twas the week before Christmas, 
when all through the mall,  
shoppers descended like a mad summer squall 

—penned by David Marshall, Dec '23

Because we're about to travel and be guests of our parents, I wasn't buying much, but I know our mums are probably stressed about all this, just as these (mostly) women appeared to be. I hope that we will be able to be gracious guests and not cause too much trouble!

But really, what I want for Christmas is not the "perfect" meal or decorations or presents, I just want to honour our families by spending time with them, some of whom we haven't seen for more than five years. We put so much emphasis on making this celebration "just right" that we can easily forget the more important things.

Obviously, as a woman of Christian faith, the most important thing to me is that we're remembering that this is about Jesus, the son of God, the miracle that God came to earth to be one of us. Without that event, this celebration would never have started. Unfortunately, as we all know, in many places, he's completely forgotten, overtaken by many other aspects of the season. And even those of us who are Christians can let the general fervour and busyness of the season overtake the meaning of the story that has grown a little too familiar to us.

A bit of a blurry photo of the outdoor
carols service that our eldest son's church
ran for their community. He's on the guitar
on the left of the picture. It was fun to join in
this and encouraging to hear the origin
story of the season told clearly.

But I think it's also a great time to celebrate what else God's given us. For many of us that includes family and friends. I'm thankful for being able to be physically with family this year. It's a great time to get together and be thankful (Australians, especially, without any culture of thanksgiving celebrations separate to Christmas). It's also wonderful time to gather with our communities, with "our people", and be thankful for where we get to live and the people we get to do life with. To be filled with joy at the various fun things planned for this time of year, especially when we know life can be too full of pain and drudgery. 

It's a time of year when things get magnified: bad things can seem worse and small positive things can make a huge difference. Let's take time to acknowledge the good and the joy. And let's release some of those high expectations we have of ourselves and of others, be faster to apologise and to thank, and not so fast to criticise. Let's take pleasure in the small things.

I live in a dichotomy

The past week has been full of things we've grown to associate with Christmas in Australia, things that we don't do or experience when we're in Japan:

Outdoor carols events: we went to one run by our eldest son's church and have seen plenty others advertised. The one we went to was different to many Australia Christmas events: it was evangelistic, it didn't include Santa, and almost all the songs were related to the true story of Christmas.

Church family Christmas dinner: some churches in Japan may do this, but mostly Christmas is a time for outreach events like concerts

An example of Australian "ugly"
Christmas clothing :-)

Christmas everywhere we go: decorations, lights, packaging, Santa, events, and Australia's version of the "ugly sweater" (often matching shorts and t-shirts with some kind of repeating Christmas motif), it's all far more pervasive than we see in Japan.

Preparing for the "rellie tour": visiting our birth families around the state for Christmas, which requires two eight-hour drives and one 90-minute drive.

Cricket: yep, this is a summer sport and the "sound of summer" for us is cricket on the TV in the background of life. And last week we actually went to one match live, which was a great experience after a lifetime of watching it on the tellie.

Summer: of course, it's summer, even if most of the Christmas motifs deny it. It's our second descent into summer for the year. A Brisbane summer is a bit easier than a Tokyo summer, the humidity is far less oppressive, and the nights are often are not as hot. But it will be longer. We do go most places in a car, too, which makes it easier than riding a bike or walking. We also live in a house with decent insulation, and our bedroom has an air conditioner (though I really would prefer not to live in aircon all day and night).

I remember when I first when to Japan I felt like I had to reinvent myself, like I was a completely different person in Japan than I was in Australia. To some extent that's still true. I remember meeting a life-long friend here one time for a Japanese lunch, then we went to an Asian supermarket. She remarked that she was seeing a completely different side to me than she'd ever seen before (she's never seen me outside the context of Australia). 

Life in Australia is very different in many ways to life in Japan. Life in cross-cultural ministry is also different to what most people "get". And it's easy to feel sorry for myself and descend into a pity-party here. I'm glad I didn't post this when I first wrote it because I've been able to delete a couple of paragraphs of that kind of thing!

I know that I have friends who love me and try hard to understand and love the weird person that this life has made me. I am ever so grateful to them. This is a lonely life and those special friends make a huge difference. I'm trying to do my best to embrace the "Australian Wendy" for these months we're here.

I'm also grateful for the various people we meet along the way who understand. We met two just yesterday, people who we've only crossed paths with a few times, but who have a lot more in common with us than many other Aussies.

There's so much to be thankful for! Even the uncertainty about the future, because it challenges me to trust God more. What are you thankful for this week?

Emotions and conversations

We have reached an interesting point in our careers. A point where people saying, "Wow, 23 years is a long time to serve." But there are also younger people asking questions about their own direction in life, and asking about our own journey. Especially people who don't feel called to so called "front-line ministry", for example, church planting and evangelism, but called to the sorts of work we do: support ministry (behind the scenes helping missionaries to continue to do the work they've been called to do).

And a photo of a tree, because we all need
more trees!

I've written on this topic a few times over the years, one that stands out was about four years ago (here) and expressed a fair bit of frustration on how difficult it seemed to communicate to Australians about the importance of the work we do. That mission work involves a lot more than just church planting and evangelism. 

However, it feels like maybe we're making better progress this year. One way we're doing that is by using boxes, of all things! It's become a standard part of most of our up-front presentations. We get the audience involved and show them a little dramatically some of the other things missionaries have to do aside from their stated "ministry", and then show them how overwhelming that can be and how people like ourselves can work as a team to help carry the load. I explained this activity (with photos) towards the end of this blog post five years ago. This single presentation has produced more conversations than most of the stories we've told.

I've had coffee on two occasions in the last week with people who wanted to know more about my story: about working in communications and also about how missions do member care. Both of these conversations were so encouraging to me. I shouldn't be amazed that God's been working through the struggles I've had to help other people (he said he would 2 Corinthians 1:4). In fact neither of these conversations would have taken place if God hadn't given me the boldness to stand up in front of strangers and admit that something in my missionary career had been (or continues to be) hard.

. . . 

I now wish that I'd pressed "Publish" on Tuesday when I wrote this. But now it's Thursday and I've had another lengthy conversation that was quite different to the first two I mentioned. Today I'm feeling far more anxious than I had been recently. The conversation was one of those, "Please explain the situation of your kids, we wish we could provide them with accommodation but we can't, what can we do except pray?" kinds of conversations that we've had many of in the last several months.

I haven't written too much about the situation with our boys, partly to protect their privacy. What's been going on with them has been the unwritten part of the story in what I've written here recently (e.g., struggling to trusting God). My summary is: there's a housing crisis in Australia at present and finding places to rent is hard. Both our younger sons need to find somewhere to live apart from us in order for us to go back to Japan in July. One of our sons will be studying at the University of Queensland and the other hopefully will be working. The latter was the subject of this blog post last year about mental illness and neurodiversity. He's had a rough run, and as his parents we've also been doing it tough at times. Getting these guys settled somewhere else is a key focus of this home assignment, but it's a difficult one. And one that we don't know the end of yet, and it's hard to wait, wondering.

But this is a rather large diversion from how I started this: encouraged by conversations. But that's life, isn't it? One interaction can be an encouragement and another quite the opposite. We're no superheroes here! Please pray for us!

Strength comes from quietness and dependence?

We have no more official speaking engagements now until February. That feels weird. It's six weeks since I wrote on this blog: "Last week we started to see a bit more spaciousness in our schedule" (here). We've definitely been working at a slower pace since mid October. And, though it still feels awkward at times, it's been good for us after what's been a pretty exhausting few years.

A friend and colleague wrote about this verse recently: "This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: 'In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it'" (Isaiah 30:15 NIV)

The Message says it this way: "God, the Master, The Holy of Israel, has this solemn counsel: “Your salvation requires you to turn back to me and stop your silly efforts to save yourselves. Your strength will come from settling down in complete dependence on me—The very thing you’ve been unwilling to do. You’ve said, 'No way!'"

My friend wrote: "We need to stop in order to repent. Rest involves the surrender of fighting for ourselves and letting the Holy Spirit work in our lives. It is a reliance on God's promises and an utter dependence on Him. It is a recognition that we can't satisfy our own needs. . . This verse also reminds us that our strength comes from quietness and trust. When we are quiet, we remove other noise and distractions. We set our hearts on hearing God's voice and God's voice alone. A quiet heart is in a state of peace that comes from trusting in God and His sovereignty alone."

This reminds me a bit of Psalm 23:

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
  he leads me beside quiet waters,
  he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
  for his name’s sake (vs. 1–3 NIV).

 There are other verses similar, like Psalm 131:1–3:

My heart is not proud, Lord,
    my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
    or things too wonderful for me.
But I have calmed and quieted myself,
    I am like a weaned child with its mother;
    like a weaned child I am content.
Israel, put your hope in the Lord
    both now and forevermore (NIV).

Another a metaphor describing God's care for us in Isaiah 40 (vs 11):

He tends his flock like a shepherd:
    He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
    he gently leads those that have young (NIV).

I don't know that I'm very good at being quiet and hearing God's voice. I'm good at filling my head with busy noise. But I hope that through this quieter period in our lives I'll get better. I have to trust that God is working in me through this time that I have many fewer responsibilities than I've had for many years.

That's not to say I've got no responsibilities. We had morning tea with three retired missionaries last week. They told many stories from their own lives, but also intentionally asked us about our sons. One of them concluded quickly that one of our main jobs this year in Australia is to help our younger two transition well to Australia. It's true and we're grateful for the time away from the busyness of our work in Japan to do that (and that we still have an income while we do this).

This week of metaphorically walking alongside our sons has included:

• sitting in on a doctor's appointment which opened the door for our son to get support from the Australian government due to his neurodiversity and mental illness,

  

  The blossoms of the Sydney red
  gum. Another thing synonymous
  with Australia.

• helping them fill out forms for the government. Australia is also kind to university students from low income families, but you pay in the time you spend applying and reporting,
• supervising them driving,
• driving one of them to an appointment with the agency helping him to find (and be ready) for work, and
• follow leads for possible future accommodation.

It's been good that we've had the time to do these things in person and are not thousands of miles away, something a missionary parent can't take for granted.

Fun

The downtime that we've had has given us plenty of time to indulge in one of our favourite pastimes, one that much easier to pursue when we're in Australia than in Japan. It's cricket!

In Japan we either have to resort to watching replays and reading match reports, or pay to watch matches. Here we can watch many matches for free.

Cricket has been part of our lives since we were kids—both our dads loved it and taught us about it. I was once jokingly accused of "taking a sickie" by guys in the pay room at a small rural hospital I worked in, after I took two consecutive sick "afternoons" on days that cricket was played (in the past many men have been a bit disbelieving that women know anything about cricket, but these guys knew I was a fan). 

Summer and Christmas in Australia is synonymous with cricket on the TV. Because it's generally a lengthy sport, it often runs in the background while you get on with other things. It's like the sound of summer here and it's weird when we watch it in mid-winter in Japan, at Christmas time!

Cricket has been part of our relationship since day two. The day after our first date there was cricket on, and we sat down together to watch some of it. Having a love of cricket wasn't on his list of things he was looking for in a girlfriend, but it's turned out to be a wonderful thing for us. Cricket is a very complex sport and many hours can be spent watching and talking about it. It's often quite relaxing, and I've done many cross-stitching hours in front of the cricket, so it's good for my mental health.

The Australian team has recently spent about six weeks competing in one of the cricket world cups in India (the men's One Day version). It was compelling watching, much like a long suspense drama. This long competition culminated in two matches that we stayed up long past our usual bed times to watch (3.30am and 2.30am). Yep, I guess that confirms us real fans!

We've also been keeping an eye on the domestic women's cricket franchise competition called WBBL (Women's Big Bash League), which is a different (shorter) format to the games the Australian men were playing in India. We went to one game in person a few weeks back and this week we've watched (on TV) our local team play their way into the final. As a woman, it's been wonderful to finally see women playing this sport I've loved all my life. It turns out women have been playing for a long time, but they've had little media coverage, so almost no one knew about it, thankfully that's changed.

Anyway, that's enough. Most of you probably aren't interested in cricket, but thanks for reading this far. For me, it's a bit like camping, if you introduce the topic, I can talk about it for some time!

A couple of admissions

I've had lots of space for thinking recently. Sometimes it feels like too much space.

We enjoyed the simple pleasure of catching
up with "old" friends on Saturday.

A shocking truth: not trusting God. Yep, that's me.

After we moved here in July, I re-joined our home church's Friday morning Ladies Bible study. They had been studying Trusting God by Jerry Bridges. Of course, coming in more than halfway through the year was a disadvantage. (For my northern hemisphere readers: Much of Australian life runs on a calendar year. Many things, including school, start in mid or late January after the long Christmas/summer holidays and finish in November or December. So arriving in July or August often means you've missed half a year of something.) 

One of the ladies gave me a copy of the book they were studying, one that I have actually owned since I was a uni student, but I think it's in storage in Japan. It's a long time since I read it, so I've gone back to read from the start of the book. 

It really is basic stuff that I know, but stuff that I keep forgetting, or maybe "forgetting" is too strong a word, possibly "lose sight of" could be better? I am still not really good at applying truths I know in my head to my emotions. Emotions grab hold of me and before I know it my body is showing signs of stress. When I take a step back and think about what’s going on, more often than not I realise it's because I've stopped trusting that "God's providence is his constant care for and his absolute rule over all his creation for his own glory and the good of his people" (Trusting God, p. 13).

So, I was encouraged to read Bridges write (about his own pilgrimage of seeking to come to a place of trusting God at all times), "I am still far from the end of the journey." It is good to remember that it is a journey, and one that won’t be finished until we’re in heaven.

Entitled thinking 

Additionally I've been thinking about how easy it is for missionaries to slip into entitled thinking. A few weeks ago a close friend caught me thinking that way—my guard was down because she is such a good friend, and I was shocked to hear what came out of my mouth. I still feel ashamed as I see how easy it is to slip into thinking that because I'm a missionary I deserve certain things and deserve better things. And then complaining when I don't get them! And then I saw this quote: 

"You cannot possibly have a sense of entitlement—thinking you deserve only good and beautiful things–when you truly realize that you don't deserve anything good if not for God's grace, extended from his throne."—Mel Caparrow, Enough is Enough

Ouch!

I think "truly realize" is one thing, but always remembering it is another. The dictionary.com definition of "realize" is to "become fully aware of (something) as a fact; understand clearly". I really do understand these truths pretty clearly, but, as I wrote about earlier, applying them to my heart is another matter.

Need to be careful where I put my focus

I need to be more thankful, and more repentant when I notice thoughts like this entering my head. I'm thankful my friend caught me in this. She didn't rebuke me directly, but what she said made me stop and think about what I'd just said.

In the end I think many of the issues that we deal with (anxiety, entitled thinking, anger, fear, discontent etc.) stem back to not trusting God. And this reminds me of a favourite book of mine (that’s also in storage in Tokyo), Awe by Paul Tripp that traces the things we struggle with back to our lack of awe of God, our forgetting how amazing and completely capable and loving he is. I wrote about another book by Jerry Bridges a few years back (here), which also traces what he calls “hidden sins” back to a lack of trust in God’s character:

“The importance of a firm belief in the sovereignty, wisdom, and goodness of God in all the circumstances of our lives. Whether those circumstances are short-term or long-term, our ability to respond to them in a God-honoring and God-pleasing manner depends on our ability and willingness to bring these truths to bear on them. And we must do this by faith; that is, we must believe that the Bible's teaching about these attributes really is true and that God has brought or allowed these difficult circumstances in our lives for his glory and our ultimate good” (Hidden Sins, Bridges, p. 76).

“When I refocus, I take my eyes off my problems, and shift them onto the Lord — and I choose to trust him. Trust him even when my situation looks black. Trust him that he is working for my good. Trust him that he knows what is best.” (From here.)

Remembering this is so important: "No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly" (Psalm 84:11). 

In the last two weeks we received disappointing news on two fronts. Not devastating news, just what felt like setbacks to our plans. But obviously our plans weren’t God’s plans and we need to continue to trust he’ll guide us as we seek to work our way through settling our younger two sons in Australia so that we can return to Japan next July. So I return to one of my favourite passages from the Bible:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart" (Heb. 12:1–3, NIV).

Ah, it is so easy to lose heart. I'm feeling flat today and I think it's partly a losing-heart symptom. Life is hard. God didn't promise us anything else. So the only option is to keep our eyes focused on him.

I've rambled on long enough, it's time to publish this now (I've been writing it for a couple of weeks as I tried to process the rollercoaster of emotions I've been riding).

Fluency and a sense of home are harder to get than you think

Whenever I'm in Australia I struggle to communicate to people that we're not completely fluent in Japanese. And the longer we're in Japan, the more people assume our fluency is a given, so it becomes a throw-away line that I struggle to ignore. It usually runs like this:

"I guess you're fluent at Japanese..."

"Ah, no, I wish I was, though."

And the awkwardness only gets worse as I seek to find a way to move on from this in a conversation.

Now that our boys are older, fluency is also assumed of them. We spoke at a church on Sunday and I've lost track of how many conversations I had explaining that our boys aren't fluent in Japanese, nor do any of them see themselves moving there as adults. The angst for me is that I wish I could say that we were all fluent in Japanese. But the truth is that it's a complex, rich language that is very difficult for most foreigners. I don't know any missionaries who didn't grow up there who would admit to being fluent.

Along with this assumption of fluency seems to come the assumption that we slide in and out of each culture with ease. The same person who says something like this will often also ask "How's it feel to be home?" I'm afraid that as our comfort in living in Japanese culture has increased, the more we feel not-so-much like either place (Japan or Australia) are actually "home". Yep, I feel like I write about this topic a lot (e.g. here in 2014), perhaps I sound terribly repetitious? But it's an ongoing battle to help people to understand us, and of course many of you—the readers of this blog—aren't the people who will be asking us questions like this.

I try to patiently explain to people who ask—I rarely bring this topic up myself!—that there's much we're comfortable with about life in Japan (including that I can get by in much of daily life with the language I have). But also point out that there's lots that we don't manage with ease, for example, dealing with the subtleties of a new medical diagnosis (and new specialist terms) and negotiating our way through complex bureaucratic procedures or websites. 

At the same time there's stuff about Australia that we really love, like the climate, how easy communication is, that we can sit through a sermon or read the fine print without straining our brains too hard. And things that we don't feel so comfortable with: like the lack of settledness that our work here involves, the assumption people can make that as educated professionals we are homeowners, and answering questions like I've mentioned above.

I feel like I'm whinging, though. Thankfulness is the antidote to that! So, here are some things I'm thankful for today:

I'm also thankful for this little plant.
Last week I went out and "splurged"
on a new pot plant, something that
helps me feel more "at home" here.

• A good nights sleep, and a bed, and house, and food, and oxygen and so many things.
• An income
• People who love me
• The ability and opportunity to write and reflect
• Good health
• A calling
• Hope and a future, and a God who loves me and has the power to secure my good.

Which of course brings me back to the right place–the Bible. And this verse:

"'For I know the plans I have for you,'” declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" (Jeremiah 29:11 NIV).

And back to the theme of another blog post that is in draft stage: trusting God! But I'll leave that to another day.

Rowboat, sentences, and driver's licence

This has been an interesting week, and not as quiet as my written schedule might lead you to believe. I think I'd been settling just a little into a "quieter" life. Time to read, to go a bit slower than usual. But this week has been a little different. For starters, I've picked up my editing pen again. OMF Australia has given me a spot as a guest editor for one of their publications. It's been good to brush up those skills a little.

A local park, a place that's helping
us stay a bit grounded here.

I wrote our monthly prayer letter on Monday and sent it Tuesday. A pretty usual end-of-month activity, but one that always involves a little reflecting on the month gone and looking at what the month ahead holds. It definitely showed that October was considerably quieter than the several months that had gone before it, and I guess that has shown up in my musings on this blog.

Over the last few weeks, on quieter days, I've been trying to invest more in reading about writing, as well as taking up a few small opportunities to write. I've spent many Tuesdays mornings at our local library writing. I haven't had a huge output or a big project that I'm working on, but just setting aside time on a set day to write in a different environment has been helpful. 

This week I finished a book about sentences: First you write a sentence by Joe Moran. It wasn't the easiest book to read, but that kind of helped it to feel like I was doing "work" i.e. professional development, not just reading for pleasure! Here's one helpful quote:

‘It’s necessary to write as if your sentences will be orphaned, because they will be.’ (Evelyn Kinkenborg)…Once our sentences are written and sent out into the world to be read, they are on their own. Most of us cling to a residual belief that we will still be there, hovering over the reader as she reads, to explain, when she stumbles over our words, what we really meant. We won’t…Writing a sentence is …hard because you have to arrange them in such a way that they can be deciphered in your absence” (p. 24–25 First you write a sentence, Joe Moran, 2018).

Later he qualified that statement about orphans by saying that sentences really need to be read in context, that "the sentence you are reading needs the already read and still unread sentences around it" (p. 161).

Another gem from the book: "Reading a sentence should never be a grim duty. . . Most paragraphs are longer than they need to be, likewise most chapters. Most books go on for fifty pages longer than they should. We forget all this because it is less effort to speak than to listen . .  at some point, sooner than we think, we should stop. no one is ever as interested as we are in what we have to say. They need to eat, or catch a train, or go to bed because they have work in the morning. The courteous actor says his lines and leaves the stage with no encore." (p.199)

Unfortunately the author didn't really take his own advice. This book could have been considerably shorter! What kept me reading, though, was the gems like I've quoted. One of the reviewers on Goodreads said "About 96% twaddle. Which is annoying because the 4% has some really good ideas and observations." Ironically, a good developmental editor would have been a big help!

Aside from reading interesting books, and writing and editing, we've been walking alongside our sons as they continue to settle into life in Australia. This week that's meant:

• helping our middle son finally get his learners licence again (he had a Japanese learners, but that journey was interrupted by a seizure nearly two years ago)
• helping facilitate communication to allow our sons and one other missionary kid to apply to take over a lease from four other young men (two of whom at least are missionary kids themselves) 

Both the above are part of long complex journeys, and it was satisfying to complete a clear step in each one this week. Two more tangible steps towards our twin goals of them living independently as adults and us returning on our own to Japan to continue work there.

A strange thing, but I also did two things that I've been postponing. I bought three new t-shirts (as we approached downsizing and moving to Australia, I pretty much stopped buying anything that wasn't consumable or an immediate desperate need, so it's been a long time since I bought a t-shirt). I also made an appointment with a physio for a problem that's been bothering me for many months (years?). These seem like small things, but they felt big, like I was settled enough to do them?

We've also had car trouble, which has meant the first driving lesson got cut short yesterday. And more money will be paid than we want to. The car is at the mechanic and we've had to borrow a car this weekend to fulfil our ministry commitments.

This week we also started talking to our families about Christmas plans . . . this is something we only do a couple of times a decade! And noted that it's getting gradually more complex as our kids get older. Our families live a whole day's drive apart, so it is always a bit complicated to factor in everyone's needs, desires, plus the sheer practicalities of travel. On top of that we have other people (long-term friends and supporters) wondering if they can catch up with us during the Christmas holidays (roughly Dec–Jan), but we can't set dates until we've settled on dates with our families. 

Yesterday evening I felt like I was a little row boat that had had a number of ripples pass underneath me: unsettled and rocked, not by any one thing, but by the various life things going on, some of which I've mentioned above. When this happens I can be quite harsh on myself, wondering where my faith in God my rock is. After all this is what King David wrote:

Yes, my soul, find rest in God;
    my hope comes from him.
6 Truly he is my rock and my salvation;
    he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.
7 My salvation and my honour depend on God;
    he is my mighty rock, my refuge.
8 Trust in him at all times, you people;
    pour out your hearts to him,
    for God is our refuge. (Ps. 62:5–8)

I will not be shaken? I'm not sure exactly of the meaning here. I know that houses in Japan are built so that they can be shaken by an earthquake, but still remain standing and undamaged. Perhaps that's it?

So, a rowboat, sentences, and a driver's licence, and a myriad of other things that have made up this week, including a really hot, but dry day of around 37C, and a much cooler, yet more humid day today (around 26C). Tomorrow we put on our "missionary" hats again and, all things going well, we will present at an OMF meeting and then have lunch with friends from uni days.

An emotional speaker

I spent last weekend at a non-denominational Christian women's conference (retreat or convention or even “camp”...depending on your background). In many ways it was very similar to the annual retreats I go to in Japan, except more than three times the size and much less international. Also, the average age was probably a fair bit higher. The one in Japan is mostly made up of expats who are in ministry, which generally means under 70 years of age. This event I went to had a significant number of women over 70.

The convention was held at a place 
that I’ve been to many times since
I left school: Mt Tamborine Convention
Centre. A place where many Christian
gatherings happen every year. The
very place where we began seriously
applying to serve with OMF overseas.

Another difference was that they had a focus on missionaries. They’ve traditionally invited missionaries to come and give short presentations. I was one of four invited to speak for six minutes this year. 

I thought that I’d gotten past the “very nervous” stage of speaking this year. August and September were full of speaking opportunities and I’d been relaxing quite a bit. But apparently not so much as I thought. I was struck with considerable nervousness about standing up in front of this large group (over 200 people). This would have been okay, except that the main story I’d planned to share was my most emotional one, the one I was most likely to cry during. Nerves + emotional story made for a very challenging period as I started telling this story.

A few weeks earlier I’d had to choose what I would say so that I could give the organisers my PowerPoint slides. I was feeling pretty cynical about the value of a one-off appearance at an event where I would probably not be able to form many longer lasting partnerships. When I voiced this to two close friends (who’ve both been to this event before and one helped organise it this year) and they encouraged me to use my “is it worth it all” story, so I did. I blamed my friends for egging my on, but really it was me who chose to do it, I wanted to tell the audience something honest that they probably didn’t know about missionaries. Missionaries tend to tell “success” or “good” stories, they often don’t talk about hard personal things in public. As someone who strongly values honesty and authenticity, and telling things how they are, this was definitely in line with my values, even if I hadn’t intended to get so emotional in the delivery of it!

Emotion is a strong way to connect with audiences, but breaking down on stage with a microphone in your hand isn’t a comfortable experience. However, I ended up with many conversations (and hugs) afterwards—many ladies told me they had been touched by my tears and pain. Some even found they could identify in a small way with the pain I’d admitted, which is a definite “win”. There were plenty others who didn’t have anything to say to me, but for the rest of the weekend I saw plenty of ladies walk past who I could tell recognized me as the one who’d lost it on the stage! 

It’s a lot easier to write these things at home on my computer, than say them out-loud to a group of strangers. If you’d like a glimpse of the sort of thing I was talking about, you can see something else I’ve written about grief and goodbyes here. Ultimately, I don’t feel called to be a speaker! Working behind the scenes with the written word is much more my gifting.

It was good to sit at the “feet” of two gifted speakers who preached though the book of Colossians. We were reminded that we are complete in Christ. That nothing we do can either make God love us less or more. God made me, he knows my weaknesses and my strengths, and he loves me anyway. My personal encouragement was that I don’t need to strive to be busy right through this home assignment time, that taking time to rest is okay too.

Overall it was a great weekend. Tiring but wonderful. Another taste of heaven, really. We had great Bible teaching and rich times of singing. Also lots of fun. It was wonderful to share the weekend with two close friends and get to know a few more people that they know.

An unsettled life

I write on this blog about my fairly ordinary life doing a not-so-ordinary job. It’s good to remind myself about that goal every now and then. Right now I’m feeling rather unfocused, partly because, as opposed to most of my adult life, overall I’ve actually got more time than responsibilities. I’m really struggling with what to do with that and finding it odd. After all, isn’t this what one longs for amidst a too busy life? Not being so busy is harder than I imagined.

It’s also hard to think about making commitments to longer term things because we need to keep our schedule flexible to visit with people and groups. That means committing to something regular isn’t wise, and committing to something that requires a lot of time is also not a great idea.

So, what to do? We’ve got some ideas, but we’re also aware that we’re tireder than we realise. The clue to that is how much recovery time has been needed after events and interacting intensely with people.

I’m also aware of still feeling so unsettled. Knowing that we’re probably not going to be here for long is unsettling and doesn’t encourage commitment (even to pot plants). I still feel like a bit of an alien in Australia. Not so much in one-on-one conversations, but just in general, when I’m out and about in public. I suspect that that might take longer than 12 months to settle down.

Layered on top of the temporary nature of this assignment is the transitory nature of this stage of life: we’re actively working on helping our two youngest sons to find somewhere to move out to (a complicated process that we are making progress on, pray for favour from a certain landlord, and one more housemate). Them moving out is a big life change for us all. One that’s been looming for a while, so it’s no surprise. It’s the right time for them to be moving on, but still has an emotional impact when lots of other things in our lives are also very unsettled.

Getting any traction in the midst of all this is difficult. It’s even been hard to stay on top of the many plates we still have twirling, because we’re less focused. For example, I’m usually great at promptly answering email, because I’ve usually been on my computer most days in recently years, but my email volume has dwindled down to a trickle, so I’m not on my computer every (work) day now and I fear that some things might be falling through the cracks.

What have I been doing with my time? On days that we’ve not been speaking, travelling, or preparing for either of these, I’ve had a lot more spare time. I’ve been reading more and continuing with my Japanese language review. We’ve been getting more sleep. I’ve pulled out my cross-stitch, something that I’ve not done for years outside of holiday times. We’re watching cricket, playing more Scrabble (and other games), and spending time with people we love. It’s a completely different pace to what we’ve lived at for years, and probably good, even if it feels like an ill-fitting coat.

After several quieter days (we even had a weekend at home last week), tomorrow we’re travelling again. David and our youngest son are driving eight hours north to see David’s mum. I’m travelling an hour away with a friend to a women’s convention for the weekend (and doing a little bit of up-front speaking). Much like I wrote about last week: the pace here keeps changing, and somehow we need to keep adjusting to it. I guess that’s making us more flexible?

Wisdom and peace about what I do

Last week we started to see a bit more spaciousness in our schedule. Finally! This year has been a fairly continuous hard slog. By God's grace we've made it through thus far, but without a clear holiday yet in view, it's really good to find that we can slow down in the midst of it all. But as usual, I find it's a mental and emotional challenge to change pace.

Somewhat random photo that I took
in WA when we were on Rottnest Is.

Last week we had three quieter days and then headed up to the town where I was born and raised. During the four days we spent there we had two formal speaking opportunities as well as time to catch up with family and friends (including a short and furious op-shop crawl). We stayed with my parents and had lots of time to touch base with them. That was all very good, but also tiring! We drove back late Sunday afternoon and I backed up on Monday with an all-day Zoom meeting with most of our magazine team. That was also very good, but also tiring. 

I slept 11 hours Monday night and spent a lot of Tuesday just sitting around (I did finish a book). On Wednesday I had more energy, enough to do some weekly household chores and more elaborate baking than I've done for months. That night I slept badly (again), but was able to sleep in on Thursday morning. Lacking much routine has good and bad points. Being able to sleep in as much as I need some mornings is one of the good points!

The mental battle for me with such a varied schedule basically runs along the lines of internal dialogue that says:You're being lazy . . . that's okay, I'm being kind to myself . . . but couldn't you be using this time better . . . oh look, there's a cool thing to read or play or watch . . . a whole day has gone by and what do you have to show for it? . . . it's been hard few years, the psychologist said to aim for boredom . . . you haven't had it as hard as others . . . etc. 

Yes, I need to remind myself of this blogpost from August: An aha moment

I also need to remind myself that I'm not defined by my schedule, I'm not defined by what I do, or how much I do, or how well I do it. That's a really hard thing to embrace. David and I are somewhat defined by the label we wear, by the calling we have: missionaries or cross-cultural workers. It's hard to combat that. What we do shapes how we live far more than if we had jobs in Australia, much like how being in the military shapes and defines people far more than civilian life. I think it's also a facet of jobs that fall more into the "calling" category.

At this point I need to stop and remember what God says about my identity. It turns out he says a lot. Here's one portion from Ephesians 2:

Now God has us where he wants us, with all the time in this world and the next to shower grace and kindness upon us in Christ Jesus. Saving is all his idea, and all his work. All we do is trust him enough to let him do it. It’s God’s gift from start to finish! We don’t play the major role. If we did, we’d probably go around bragging that we’d done the whole thing! No, we neither make nor save ourselves. God does both the making and saving. He creates each of us by Christ Jesus to join him in the work he does, the good work he has gotten ready for us to do, work we had better be doing. (vv. 7–10, The Message).

Yes, it's a different version to what many of us are used to reading, but sometimes that is helpful. In this case it reminds me that I'm not indispensable, that what I do is something God's prepared for me to do. And to balance it out, what I do is not to earn the reward of God's love. As Philip Yancey wrote, "There is nothing we can do to make God love us more and there is nothing we can do to make God love us less."

So I needn't be afraid that I'm being lazy, but should trust that this quieter time is God's gift to us. We're in this for the long-term, so taking care of ourselves is an important part of staying the course. I know that in my head, but I still have those internal dialogue battles!

I read an article recently on Forbes.com that talked about how we often define ourselves by our jobs, and how that can be negative, especially if we're between jobs, or if our job title doesn't interest others. The author suggested: 

The next time someone asks you the question, “What do you do?” share something else about who you are and what you care about that goes beyond your job title alone. Doing this reinforce more dimensions of your work and identity so others can have a more complete picture of who you are and what you stand for.

That bears some thinking upon...

At the moment our job is to talk to people about what we do and where we do it. It's actually a battle to help people understand because they feel like our lives are so different to theirs and they come to us with a lot of preconceptions about who we are and what we do. On Sunday I had someone come up to me at the church where we'd spoken who made a confession: that day, for the first time, she'd understood what I do. She'd heard us speak several times in the past couple of decades, but hadn't understood. I don't know why—she wasn't keen for a long conversation and took off as soon as she's said that. I'd love to have talked longer to discover what it was that we said on Sunday that helped.

Writing like this makes me feel nervous. I'm nervous that someone is going to point out that I'm not doing enough, that I am not enough.

Someone suggested to me recently that those negative thoughts are from the enemy, but I'm not so sure that they all are. I've been conscientious all my life, it helps me get my job done when I have little supervision or accountability. And I've also been present at plenty of Christian events where I've been told (overtly or otherwise) I need to do more—more evangelism, more discipleship, more theological study, more prayer, more family-based devotions, more and more... 

I'm just not sure I'm wise enough to discern which of these thoughts in my head are right and worth listening to, and which aren't. 

What comes with the territory as a missionary is frequently being asked "What can we pray for?" (Seriously, as well as writing a monthly prayer letter, I answer at least two or three emails a month with this specific request from our organisation.) One of my most common requests is for wisdom. A thoroughly biblical prayer:

If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you (James 1:5 NIV).

And here I will end this meandering collection of thoughts and head into what's looking like a potentially quiet weekend!