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!

It's different to any home assignment we've done before

This is a different home assignment to any we've done before this. Mainly because we've got older kids who aren't in school anymore. We don't have school pickup or drop-off to take into consideration, we don't have to get them to after-school events or sport. They are pretty independent due to the location of our house and we are free to plan our schedule without them. 

When I'm able, I've been trying to come here to
write on Tuesday mornings. This library is a very 
short ride/walk from home. I love that this time
we're very close to a regional city centre,
 it makes it feel more like Japan than when 
we've had to drive everywhere.

September was a prime example: going to Perth for 18 days, and then six days after returning we went to a camp for four days. The camp would have worked when our kids were younger, because it was during the school holidays, but probably not when they were teens. None of our guys are very extroverted and as teens wouldn't have appreciated four days away from home with 100 unknown peers and leaders.

This Thursday we're leaving at around 7.30 a.m. to get to Toowoomba (my home town, about 1 ½ hrs west of here) for a 9.30 prayer meeting . . . and then we're staying the night, in fact three nights. In the past we would have taken the boys to school and then dashed up to Toowoomba and planned to be back by 3 the same day to pick them up from school.

This is a tiny glimpse of what last time looked like: It's a strange job

It's definitely easier in many ways this time. We only have to move the two of us around. And it's allowed a lot more freedom to what we choose to say yes to, in terms of opportunities to speak and serve. We did a lot more work in the evenings last month than we've done before.

The downside is that while school and our kids restricted our movements, they also provided some structure to our decisions too. In the past we've often taken school holiday times to do family-related things (for non-Aussies, we have four ten-week terms here, with three two-week vacation periods between terms, plus around six weeks at Christmas). 

Many people assume we spend our home assignment close to family, however that isn't the case. We both grew up in country towns and moved to Brisbane to study at university. The greater Brisbane area is where we have most of our support base as that's where we were located when we began this mission journey. So none of our immediate family is closer than Toowoomba, and all of David's family is a day's drive (eight hours) away. It's been harder this time to decide when to take a chunk of time to visit them. 

Part of the reason we haven't gone to see our families yet has been work-driven (the Perth trip was timed to get to a once-a-year church camp from a long-time supporting church). And partly it's because we've prioritised our sons. A number of the things we've done with them in the last 11 weeks (yes, it's 11 weeks today since we arrived in Australia) have been time sensitive. For example, getting a learners licence as early as possible was important because getting a licence here is fairly dependent on the volunteer labour of parents, as 100 hours of driving experience needs to be documented before a test can be taken!

But in October we're hoping to see most, if not all of our siblings and parents (although I won't get to see David's family until Christmas time, he's driving up there with our youngest son when I'm busy at a women's convention).

Of course each home assignment is different, especially when you have children. But when you only do this every five years, things change. Other things, aside from our children, that have changed this time around (big and small):

• some churches no longer exist or no longer want us to visit them and some of our supporters and friends are no longer with us on this earth
• we're in a different suburb (yet again . . . we're yet to stay in the same suburb twice!)
• we're now in our 50s, I think that makes a difference to energy levels
• deputising when you've been serving overseas for over 20 years seems different, and people are commenting on that length
• we've also got a lot more experience and confidence than we did when we started off in 1999, before we'd even set foot in Japan
• Australia has changed, in small ways and big ways. 
• There's been a pandemic, for example. Hint: if you want to stop people asking questions about you, change the subject to the pandemic and they'll talk for a long time about their experience!
• I'm pretty sure that there's been a change in what stores sell: some places that used to be more generalist (e.g. Big W, Target, KMart), are now more specialised? I've been more lost here than I am in Japan in finding some non-food things!
• Australia continues to get more and more expensive, it's vastly different to when we first left in 2000 (Japan and Australia have flipped in comparison to one another in 20 years)
• we get to take long service leave this time!!! (for non-Aussies and Kiwis this is paid leave that you get in our countries after a certain period of working for the same organisation and you'll hear more about it from me next year as we prepare to take off in late March)
• my parents no longer live in the house I knew from the age of 15, so visiting them feels just a little bit different
• I've got two friends in south-east Queensland who I've been communicating with almost daily for the last five years, that means I'm feeling less lonely and disconnected here than in the past

But it's time to go and pack my bag for yet another trip away. Thankfully this month we only will clock around five or six nights away, compared to September's 21!