Connection at a retreat

I'm in a post-retreat slump. This morning (Monday), I struggled to wake up, despite having a very quiet, restful day on Saturday. And now I'm back at my desk, trying to pick up the pieces after being away from it since last Tuesday. Part of me craves the high of the retreat, the time to worship, to talk with other women, and, to be brutally honest: to swan around without responsibilities!

I guess this slump probably means that I am actually quite tired and need a longer break than just one day. I'm looking forward to going camping next week for four days, and hope that that will result in greater physical refreshing.

Last week was great, I got to escape from Tokyo and daily life to a women's retreat I've been to many times. I always look forward to this retreat with other cross-cultural women, but I don't look forward to coming home and facing the rest of my life afterwards!

This time was a bit different, though. It was great to come home to my husband and not this kind of situation. Home without children remains a very quiet place, something I love, but it was a dramatic change from hanging out with 60 other women for the better part of three days. My husband graciously listened while I spilled out many things from the week that had passed.

Entrance to the centre's onsen,
yes non-private bathing

But you might have gleaned that the retreat was good. It was, in fact, great. I got to go to the venue a day early, ostensibly to help the small leadership team to set up. But I didn't actually do much, mostly because there were so many of us helping that the few things that needed doing didn't take long (or took a lot longer, because...well you know how sometimes it's easier for one person to decide something than a committee!). So the first 24 hours really were very restful, though I did have the remnants of a nasty headache on Tuesday afternoon.

It was so much fun being able to see many people who I haven't seen for two years (the last time I went to this retreat). It's interesting reading about that retreat in 2023 (here). I'd forgotten how heavy the start of that year was. This year my heart was lighter and there were less tears. I'd also "graduated" into the "older woman" category of those who have no children left at home, which felt odd.

Some of these women I never see at any other time other than these retreats. Yet, conversations are deep. I pondered this with one lady over lunch one day. We concluded that most of us feel like outsiders most of the time, but at a retreat like this we are insiders who are almost all living in a foreign land. It's comforting to find this a common ground and fosters strong bonds that form quickly.

Writing workshop ladies talking

Worship through song during the retreat was led by a couple of very down-to-earth ladies and our speaker was also very relatable. The talks were Bible-centred and the retreat started out with a whole session of focussing our eyes on God, in particular focusing on his unfailing love.

Thursday afternoon was free time, plus the option of attending two of four short workshops. Yours truly ran one, on a topic I've never specifically taught before: writing prayer letters (for those who hate doing it). Eight ladies were brave enough to come and I hope they went away with a few ideas to help make this routine ministry task easier. I'm not a natural teacher, and find it uncomfortable to stand up in front of even a small group like this, but I can see ways that I might repeat this (and do a better job).

After that I went for a walk with a very dear friend who I haven't seen since December.

Thursday night was very special: an open worship night. I've noted in the past that at these non-church interdenominational events I often feel more free. I've worshipped in conservative circles all my life and am happy there. So worshipping with people who are far more expressive is different, but good for my soul, I think. We mostly sang, and towards the end dissolved into a lengthy people of spontaneous micro-prayers. It was exceptional. 

The fun ride home

On Friday we left for home straight after lunch. I squeezed into a fun car full of six women and our luggage. We had a great afternoon, you guessed it—talking all the way home (about four hours, as we gradually dropped of ladies along the way, and only got a tiny bit lost along the way)!

During the week I had all sort of encounters. Here's a tiny taste:

I met a neighbour I didn't know I had. She and her husband work in a Chinese ministry at a sister church to ours and live about five houses from us.

I caught up with the mum of one of my youngest son's best friends. Turns out our sons had been talking (Australia to US) just that afternoon!

There were two other Aussies at the retreat. One with the Salvos and the other on a working holiday visa, I chatted with both.

At various times over the week I was able to share bits of our recent journey with neurodivergence, autism, and mental illness. And about journeying with kids into young adult years, especially about the bumps and challenges we've faced. I rubbed shoulders with mums who are ahead of me on this journey, and others who are facing up to their kids finishing high school soon, as well as women who are still in the midst of figuring out how to get their kids an education in this foreign land. We all learn from one another and it's a joy.

I met women who "know" me through my writing: this blog and through my work with the Japan Harvest magazine. That's always a little scary. What do people know about me? What do they think they know? Many who know me for my role as a managing editor make assumptions about my educational background that aren't true. No, I don't have a university degree in writing (or editing, though I've discovered that few editors do, most learn on the job like I did). But it's always exciting to hear from those who have really enjoyed the content of the magazine. My roomie was busy reading the latest issue (I don't think she was trying to impress me).

I did a lot of listening and a lot of talking. And, as usual, came away wishing that I'd done more listening and been slower to speak.

Last week on Facebook, I shared this article about the value of cross-cultural relationships. I could probably write a whole blog post as I bounce off ideas that the two authors shared, but here's a tiny portion as it relates to the friendships amongst women I meet at English-speaking retreats in Japan.

Cross-cultural friendships may often lack the natural reference points that ease our interactions with people of our own background, but they do have the advantage of creating a sense of self-expansion. This is the sense that we are growing as people...

Self-expansion can come in many forms. It may come from an exposure to new points of view, or an introduction to new and exciting experiences that we had never encountered alone...we are constantly learning from each other...

Connections across countries . . [may help] to loosen some of the shackles on our thinking so that we are more receptive to new ways of viewing the world—a more flexible and open-minded attitude that encourages innovation. (David Robson and Alessia Franko, "'I call her my Italian sister': The power of cross-cultural friendships")

So, I think that these friendships are very helpful. They take me beyond my usual thoughts and experiences and stretch me into someone who has a bigger experience and broader mind. I love getting outside our organisation and church and hearing about how other people and organisations do life. It helps keep me realistic about the various challenges we face in our own lives. I'm already looking forward to next year's retreat!

Pondering COVID's impact on life and ministry

One of my jobs with our mission's social media is to come up with media posts, especially the text-parts. That sounds easier than it sometimes is. Our goal is to raise awareness of the need of the gospel in Japan and getting people more involved, which is a bit different to how most of us use our personal social media accounts. I guess it's a close relative to "marketing".

We use a monthly theme to help fuel our creativity. Some themes are easier than others. Next month's theme is "How COVID has impacted life and ministry in Japan". That sounds like a good theme . . . but how did we find engaging content for that? 

Our team met early last week and brainstormed. One of my ideas was to do a short survey of our missionaries. But putting feet on that is harder than I thought. This afternoon I found some space to think about what I'd actually ask people. I shifted some ideas into a draft survey format, and then I have moved away to other things (like this). 

That is my usual way of operating with creative things: it's how I write, and edit, as well as work on tasks like this. Letting an idea drift around in my brain while I do other things is a brilliant way to find my way forward. I hate it when someone asks me to do "live editing" at a meeting. I prefer to read something and let it sit for a while before I do anything with it, and even when I do start to work on it, I want to do it without an audience, I want to play around with ideas in my head (and on the screen) before I decide anything. Actually, it's how I do shopping too. I hate shopping with (most) other people, I need space to think about options and decisions.

But anyway, what do I ask missionaries about how COVID has impacted their life and ministry?

My own ministry hasn't been majorly impacted by COVID. I worked from home and online for years before everyone else was doing it. The biggest impacts COVID had were more personal things like the inability to travel to see family in Australia (and them unable to come here) and watching my boys suffer as they lost opportunities and had to deal with online classes. 

Wearing masks hasn't been my favourite thing, but I've been able to avoid much of that as I work at home. 

Emotional distress probably rates fairly highly too. We've just passed the two-year anniversary since one of our young friends lost her battle with depression and died by suicide. We've had our own mental health battle in our own household during the pandemic and because I was isolated from good person-to-person contact with people for months at a time, I've found it difficult at times to find ways to interact with others and know how to talk about my own struggles. I wonder if I've gotten worse at "small talk".

Life is getting back close to normal now, though attendance in-person at our church is still lower than it was pre-pandemic. And we are still wearing masks indoors and in crowded public spaces in Japan. There is talk that next month the government recommendation for wearing masks will be lifted, but we wonder what that will look like. Life in Japan is very influenced by not causing discomfort for other people, and will not wearing masks create problems?

I can identify some positives that came about due to COVID: regular walking and talking with David. And the acquisition of a stand mixer (given it by a missionary who had to leave). Also, the increased tendency of people to have some meetings online and thus meaning less time is taken up with travel, even some opportunities to meet online with folk who we'd never otherwise have done so because we all live so far from one another.

But back to my question: What would you like to know about how COVID has impacted life and ministry for missionaries? If you are a missionary, what would you like others to know?

Off my game, but seizing the day

It's been a weird week and I haven't been able to settle well to work that needs deeper concentration. The main thing to blame is my schedule. I started the week exhausted from Saturday when I helped run a wrestling tournament (and continued straight on to dinner across town with friends), and end the week nervous about the really long day tomorrow at another tournament a long way from home. In the middle of the week was a day hanging out with missionary women and a funeral of a church member, plus a mid-week wrestling event, all on different days. Add to that two other days with meetings, but not even long meetings! 

All that is enough to throw me off my game. I can sandwich some work in-between other things as well as the next woman, but I find that writing and editing longer or more difficult pieces of writing, takes more concentration and doesn't squeeze well between other things. So I generally chunk my schedule to help me work that way (ideally, two or three whole days in a week without any external events), but it just hasn't happened this week. Oh, and I've been struggling with headaches on and off too, which never helps concentration.

Next week looks better . . . I hope it lives up to that expectation.

But for now I want to tell you a little bit about the funeral. We arrived at church on Sunday to the news of a sudden death the night before of a 65-year-old church member who has quietly served his community and church for decades. He was not obviously Japanese, having American heritage, but his heart was clearly centred on Japan. He was born here and spent most of his life here teaching English. He served the church by simultaneously translating one of the services each week into English in his little booth at the back of the sanctuary, as well as proofreading the bilingual PowerPoint presentation. So many people have been blessed by his service over the years! His Japanese wife and mother-in-law were clearly distraught at the funeral yesterday. He hadn't been ill and died while doing something he loved: watching sumo at home.

It was a small funeral, which surprised us. But we were glad to be present, at this beautiful Christian, Japanese funeral, representing some of the many people who have been served by this humble, behind-the-scenes guy. There are so many funerals that I haven't been able to attend in the last few years, usually because of family responsibilities and distance. I'm sure there were some who wanted to be present at this one, but couldn't.

It's only the second funeral in Japan that my husband or I have attended. Before we came to Japan we were told about Japanese funerals, in particular, about the very strict dress code and the need to own "funeral clothes." It's all black, except the men get to wear white shirts with their black tie and women can/should wear pearls (but no other jewellery except wedding rings). I own very little black (and no pearls), as it just drains my already pale face of all life. And almost none of the black clothes I have are "winter weight". My heart's desire was to honour this man and his family, and not to draw attention by my foreign-ness and what I was wearing or not wearing.

Thankfully I managed to do that, all while not getting frostbite! But let's just say I was wearing a lot of layers under the appropriate black externals!

The service was very different to the Buddhist one I attended many years ago, indeed it was very similar to a worship service. I was taken by surprise by the open coffin where we were guided to lay flowers after the service, but as we aren't close to the family, we didn't stay long after the main service. To learn more about Japanese funerals check out this article I edited a while back.

It's sobering to think that this man was only about 15 years older than us. Truly, a funeral is a good place to get a reality check in our busy lives. I'm always grateful for my husband, but this was a good reminder to seize the day as often as I can.

The fairly spontaneous dinner we went to last Saturday was very much a case of "seizing the day". It wasn't wise, at the end of an exhausting all-day event, but it was a rare opportunity for three families who get along well to get together. And we had fun. I'm really glad we went. Taking time to appreciate those we love is so important. For those of us who have no family in-country it's even more important to invest time in friendships nearby. Just this week we've heard of an expat whose cancer journey has taken an unexpected turn, and another family we know whose overseas journey seems to have come to an end (they aren't returning from home assignment, though continuing to work with a mission). Seizing time with friends that God has given you to walk with this current week, month, year, is important in this life where things can change so quickly.

Margin: something I need, but also struggle with

Margin: it's something I've written about (e.g. https://mmuser.blogspot.com/2015/08/margin-in-life.html), but not always been good at doing. When I saw this blog post by Beth Bathelemy I was reminded again about margin. Not just how important it is, but why I struggle not just to keep it, but sometimes when I'm in that space of not-so-busy, I feel uncomfortable.

I ran into a quiet spot in my work on Friday
when I was basically waiting for other 
people to do stuff. Margin! So I rode to my
favourite local park for a couple of hours.

But first, what is margin? Beth shared this great quote by Richard Swenson:

“Margin is the space between our load and our limits. It is the amount allowed beyond that which is needed. It is something held in reserve for contingencies or unanticipated situations. Margin is the gap between rest and exhaustion, the space between breathing freely and suffocating.”

When I find myself without much margin in my days, things in our lives get compromised that shouldn't be. That can be important work matters, or it can be family, or not being able to help someone else. Without much margin my health suffers: I don't get exercise, or my eating gets sporadic and unhealthy, and because I'm the manager of our larder and maker of our evening meal, if I don't have much margin that spills over to affect everyone else in the family too. If I've overcommitted, I'm often not sleeping well and responsibilities that I have aren't being attended to. I can't pay as much attention to the people in my life if I don't have good margin and I begin to suffocate and let others down.

I thought I had plenty of margin at the start of August in Australia when I'd planned to start back at work after six weeks off. However, in that first week we had family drama as we had flights cancelled, then rebooked, and then an emotional farewell as half our family flew back to Japan. My middle son and I cleaned and moved into new accommodation, and had to adapt to living with another family. Plus we received a new diagnosis to add to the others our son already has. In the middle of all that I sat back at my editor's desk where a large amount had piled up in my absence. Then my throat and head started hurting and I started coughing . . . and it was COVID. All my margin was gone and it took weeks to get back to a place where margin was again in place. I had miscalculated, but also run into some large, unexpected things. And that's really partly what margin is for: to give room for the unexpected. It's just that, in this case, I didn't allow enough (and of course, it is not always possible to allow enough margin).

As a writer and creator I find I also need margin to think, to ponder, to reflect, and to write. The extroverted part of me struggles with that sometimes, but I'm generally happier and more balanced if I've had time alone to think.

However, I also grew up with a strong work-ethic instilled in me. So these words of Beth's also spoke pointedly, they echo some of the struggles I have when I'm not-so-busy:

Recently, however, familiar doubts crept back into my heart and mind. Am I doing enough? Will this read impressively in my newsletter? Is our ministry fruitful enough? And from this lowly place of insecurity, doubt, and discouragement, I forfeited my margin.

I think it's something that people in ministry struggle with especially. Usually we have a lot of drive, are conscientious, and feel the pressure of the overwhelming needs around us. Consider that we ourselves work in a land where less than 1% of people know Jesus and not many more than that have even heard of him. Plus, we live a little bit in a glasshouse: writing prayer letters every month, and responding regularly to a variety of other requests for information about how our ministry is going. All these things can pressure us to increase the load of what we do until we have nothing spare.

But Beth concludes with thoughts like these:

What if we were to put aside our ill-conceived, worldly perspectives on success and productivity? What if we rejected the false narratives of self-importance and worth based on accomplishment? What if we, like Christ, “self-empty” ourselves unto God?

These are good thoughts. I'm full of pride, I know. I measure my days according to how many things I've knocked off my to-do list. I like to think of myself as productive and useful, skillful and clever. What would it look like to move further away from all that?

I'm reading a short book right now by Timothy Keller called The Freedom of Self-forgetfulness.
Where I left the bookmark last night it says:

"So Paul does not look to the Corinthians for his identity. He does not go to them for the verdict that he is a 'somebody'. He does not get that sense of identity from them. But he does not get it from himself either. He knows that trying to find self-esteem by living up to a certain set of standards is a trap " (p. 28).

Paul and Keller exhort us to let go of the idea that we can get our identity from what others think of us, and even from living up to our own standards. We are loved by God. Not because of what we've done for him, but because of what he's already done for us.

Another book I've finished recently called Gentle and Lowly by Dane Ortlund says a similar thing. Christ loves us far more than we can comprehend, and our response should be to simply obey the invitation in Matthew 11:28: "Come to me."

But, on the other hand I've also realised that God has created us to both do and be. I'm still trying to balance that up, but I don't think this side of heaven I'll get it right. I can recount many times that I've been told or heard sermons or talks that said that we ought not to look at our schedules for our self-worth. But I also know that God tells us to do stuff. Yes, our primary worth is as a human being made by God, but we've been gifted with varying levels of strength and intellect, gifts and talents, wealth and opportunities. God calls us to DO stuff. Not because that's the way we earn his love, but because we love to serve him, but how easy it is to switch those two things!

So, how to live with these two things in balance? How can I be comfortable with "being", with dwelling in that space between my responsibilities and what my ultimate limit is? How can I fulfil my responsibilities without feeling that they add up to my worth, and therefore when I'm not "doing" I still have worth?

These are questions that I don't think I have an answer to yet. At the moment I'm being very careful about what I say yes to, beyond my usual responsibilities. I know that just under the surface lurk things that tap my energy, and often they are difficult to predict. Some days I just feel overwhelmingly tired by 8pm and struggle to get up in the morning, for no discernable reason. I also know, looking ahead, that we've got some big transitions next year that will take a lot of energy.

So, I'm moving ahead, walking tentatively and keeping my eyes on Jesus, rather on my own nervous, flaky self. And surrounding myself with people and habits that will correct my course when it goes astray.

I don't fit in a neat box

Someone asked me what I've been up to this week. It's been a very detailed-focused week. I'm working on the pointy-end of the next issue of the magazine (i.e. the part when we finalise the text for the designer to work on it). This is the stage when I need to be hyper-alert to nailing down all the details and getting them right. That, for me, also involves, getting to a point of agreement with authors about their work. I also need to get to a point of agreement with our production team (designer and proofreader), but we work well together and usually this is fairly smooth. But sometimes we can get too detail focused—like how important is it to know whether or not to put that semicolon there or if a font looks exactly right—and I need to pull back a little and look at the bigger picture.

I've come to the conclusion that I'm a bit of an all-rounder when it comes to the big-picture vs details dichotomy. I'm neither one nor the other. That's actually a helpful balance, at least in the work I usually do. It means I can juggle a job that requires intense concentration on details and stay fairly well on top of organising myriad things. But I can (usually) also step back and take in the bigger picture. But, like social vs alone time, I need a balance. Doing lots of ultra-detailed focusing tires me out. So does lots of big-picture stuff.

This is true in many systems of understanding humans: I don't fall into a neat box. But I think that is true for many people. We get a little bit stuck on questions like—"is she an introvert" or "is he an enneagram 5?" or "am I an ENTP or and INFP?" These systems of understanding personality are fascinating and sometimes helpful, but are they sometimes unhelpful? The older I get the more I struggle to answer the questions in these kinds of assessment. Thoughts like "Well, when I'm having coffee with Sue, I would do this, but if I was at work I'd do that. If I was really tired, I'd choose this, but if I had just had coffee on a Tuesday morning, I'd act like this." Truth is, I'm not consistent in how I react. 

My reactions are a combination of my personality, the immediate context, and what's gone before. Living cross-culturally hasn't helped, either. In Australia I act differently to in Japan! It's true. I really struggled with that when I first came here, it made me feel like I had a dual personality. Having a clear understanding of language and culture taken away from you can turn you into much more of an introvert than you used to be! You get much more observant, and work harder to interpret your context than you ever had to in your home country. Oh, did you know that I change how I speak according to who I'm speaking too, also? So an American won't usually hear me say, "I'm going to the toilet" but I would say that to a British person. British people won't usually hear me say, "See you this arvo" but an Australian might.

This can all be a bit exhausting! 

I'm glad God's given me the ability to read social situations and adapt to different contexts, because I've seen up close how that can go wrong, even in small ways. But I'm also glad that he's my dependable rock in the midst of all the shifting and changing. He doesn't require me to react in any specific way to earn approval with him. I often chastise myself for not concentrating in church, or falling asleep during prayer time with my husband. It's easy to have regrets about my past behaviour, to question if I've been the best parent I can be, etc. But I need to keep coming back to the solid truth that I'm loved regardless of how good or bad I am. And indeed, on my own, I can't ever be good enough to reach the standards God demands.

And with that thought, I'm winding down towards my weekend. I'm weary, how about you? Thankfully tomorrow's looking quiet!

The Lord himself goes before you

The workshop I've written about in recent posts has finished. I'm so happy to be at the other end of it. It's been lovely to get back to work at my usual tasks and really enjoy the largely uninterrupted time! Yes, I've had no meetings this week, tonnes of work, but no meetings. I've got several meetings tomorrow, and next week have the equivalent of two days of meetings, so we'll just count up till now.

I'm just not sure what to write here today. The bigger picture of our lives is that our personal future has become more uncertain over the last year. Of course we never know what the future holds, but our plan has always been, for 21 years, to stay in Japan until we retired, unless the Lord called us to something different. We're not so sure now, but maybe God will call us to return to Australia for a period? It relates to our responsibilities as parents. I can't divulge more than that on this public platform, which means it's hard to write about. It's not the most comfortable of positions because we're both feeling very settled and happy in our various roles. But it is a question we will carry into the rest of this year and probably through next year also. 

So, we learn more about patience and waiting on the Lord. He called us to this life in Japan, he's sustained us thus far, and he will continue to do the same, whatever the next chapter of our lives looks like. 

I just keep coming back to a beautiful card that arrived in mid January. It came from an elderly lady I can't remember ever meeting. She knew my mum when my mum was a nurse-in-training 50 years ago! This elderly lady send us this verse, along with her letter and reassurance of her prayers. She doesn't know the specifics of our situation, but her gift was definitely on point.

Dwelling in the land of spoken word

This week, instead of doing my usual work that involves a lot of written word, I've been dwelling in the world of spoken words. I've been helping facilitate an online workshop for 17 members of our organisation. That means 3 ½ to 4 hours a day on Zoom, not just as a participant, but as one of those who is responsible for how it goes. But I really did struggle, at times, to pay attention when the other facilitators were talking. And then, towards the end of the week, I also struggled to get my thoughts in order as I taught someone else's curriculum. I avoid meetings as much as I can in my daily work, so this week has been pretty overwhelming. 

One of the concepts I taught 
about this week. "Six ways" 
of mobilisation.

It's interesting to read what I wrote in my blog post about it the week after it was finished last year. But especially how it gave me an "adrenaline rush", because that's not how I remember it at all, in fact I was pretty terrified at times and certainly completely wiped out afterwards (and am feeling some of that this afternoon, it's become hard to think and to write!). But thankfully I've felt a little more confident and less terrified this week!

Now we have a week's break and then do it again from Jan 31, with the same people, but different content and more meeting time (maybe 5–6 hrs every day online?). I've got plenty of tasks from my usual responsibilities tugging at me, so it's going to be hard to stay focused and not over-work next week.

On top of that we've had news over the last 24 hrs that COVID is touching closer to home, with cases at the school, including a colleague of my husband's. So school is going online again all next week. It's challenging times we live in!

Coming back to these verses again:

Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen. (1 Peter 4:10-11, NIV)–my emphasis

On the edge of ordinary on the medical scene

Looking at July and August, all I've written about on this blog is holidays and camping! Anyone would think I've done nothing else. I actually only had 16 official days of holidays in those two months. Since we got back from holidays in mid July I've been at my desk most of each work day (aside from those two days of camping a couple of weeks back). It's always a challenging time of year to work, although as the boys grow older it's become much less of a problem. They are no longer running around the house during their holidays, demanding my attention at random times, so I've got a lot more headspace to devote to work.

David went back to work officially on Monday, so this week is looking more like business as usual, except that I've got two big boys sleeping away much of the day (yes, they are pretty nocturnal at the moment). When I say "officially", David's actually been in and out of school many days in the last fortnight. And he's been on his computer doing email and other admin things for a period most days, not to mention three Zoom meetings/training with OMF last week. Plus, he's been working on a project of digitalising a portion of his work that has existed on index cards that have been collected by dozens of teachers over the last few decades. So, I've not been alone in working at home here!

We do as much of our medical care as we
can in Japanese, but for some things we 
really need English service providers for.
We're thankful for the doctor near this
station who has been caring for one of our
sons over the last 2 ½ years.

In addition to that, we've been doing a few medical things. I wanted to write a bit about one of them—a visit to a dermatologist.

When you live in your home country you don't think about how the medical things that happen there are (sometimes) specific to your country. Of course you might think about how accessing medical care in another language is hard (and it is!), but I've got a different type of example you might not have thought about.

Skin cancer isn't common here

Australia has the highest rate of skin cancer in the world for men (not women, though we're close to the top of the list). Japan is not even in the top 20 countries in this list. But Japan is third on the list for stomach cancer and Australia doesn't feature in the top 20. (This data is from here.) 

These are interesting statistics, but the rubber hits the ground when you are not living in your home country. In Australia skin cancer is high on the list of things that your local GP will check if you ask them to (and in fact we've been told that the average Australian GP is better informed about skin cancer than the average dermatologist in Japan). Plus, there are many easily accessible skin cancer clinics that will give you a regular full body check. By contrast, in Japan, there aren't such clinics. And at annual government-funded medicals in Japan, they check for bowel and stomach cancer, but skin cancer isn't on the radar.

It just so happens that my husband has a family medical history (and now a personal history) of skin cancer, and so this is definitely on our radar as he gets older. I'm very grateful, therefore, that we live in one of the largest metropolises in the world. It's possible to find unusual services, like a doctor who has read up on skin cancer in Australia and is willing to "colour outside the lines" with foreign patients who have different skin and had different environment growing up to most of the Japanese population. It's not covered by our Japanese health insurance, but it's an awful lot cheaper and easier than going to Australia. It really is another example of how we live "on the edge of ordinary".

And life continues on...

Aside from all that, we're living pretty quiet lives here and trying not to be too stressed by the news of what's going on in the rest of the world. The pandemic is raging in Japan (between 15,000 and 20,000 new cases a day in the last few days, around 5,000 of those in Tokyo) and we're doing essentials, but otherwise at home. We're thankful that Japan is working hard to vaccinate—nearly 50% of the population has had one jab, that's 60 million people since they began in mid February. Maybe by summer next year Australia will welcome us back for a couple of months without requiring us to quarantine in a hotel at our own expense?

School (CAJ) starts the new school year for students from next Tuesday. I'm still coming to grips with the fact that we'll only have one at school this year. We're not sure what the year will look like for our middle son, but we're glad we have the means to be able to support him at this transition time of life, to give him a chance to figure things out.

Can we get creative at this time?

Last week I had a virtual coffee with one of my best friends in Australia. We love touching base and always come away feeling encouraged, and with things to think about.

One thing I came away with this time was a sense that people like us (we're both in full-time Christian ministry) have already learned some of the things that others are now faced with in the current global crisis. As is typical for me, this has been percolating and a blog post forming in my head. But my chief struggle has been: what angle to take? I can't write to you in a boastful way saying, "Ah, we've been learning these things for a long time. Have fun learning them now!"

Please forgive me in advance, I'm trying not to write with that tone. Though this situation is not a cake walk for us either, perhaps I can speak as one who has gone before in some ways and tell you some of the things (in random order) I've learned that are helping with the current situation. Perhaps that can help you process the many things going on and find some paths through.

Loneliness
I think this is one of the biggest things I've faced as I've lived overseas. It's been an ongoing challenge to find relationships and keep them. When you move out of your own culture you face challenges to having friendships on multiple levels. 

I felt like I left the "real Wendy" in Australia. In Japan I could no longer hug friends freely, as I preferred (I do still struggle with this at times). I couldn't speak freely in the new language I found myself surrounded by. Even those who spoke English didn't speak the same English as me. I needed to internationalise my language somewhat, just to communicate clearly.

I had to be more intentional about friendships. That included "seizing the day". If there was an opportunity to touch base with a friend, even if it was unexpected or creative (like an accidental pocket-call) then it was worth doing. Video calls and texting have made life a lot easier on this front in recent years, I'm so glad technology is where it is now, even ten years ago this would have been a more difficult experience.

If you need a hug, try a pillow or a soft toy! It's worked for me (even before I came to Japan). I know it's still warm in Australia, but cuddling under a blanket, or even a sheet wrapped firmly can help.

Get creative. Be impulsive. Think intentionally about how you most value as friends and seek a way to encourage them. Pray.

Cooking meals
From the start learning to make do with what you could get has been an integral part of us providing food for our family in Japan. That includes a lot of substituting in recipes. It can require creativity. But it also requires you to think about what you can do, rather than long for what you can't have.

Living in Japan has pushed me to learn new culinary skills, or extend the ones I had: like making bread, lasagne, and fruit mince pies and making other things from scratch, like chutney, lemon butter, and even puff pastry (never doing that again!) There are plenty of ideas online for substituting for ingredients you don't have, and videos to help you learn new skills.

Get creative. Be bold. Try new things. Think about what you can do, rather than what you can't.

Fruit mince pies

Spirituality
Moving to a country where you don't speak the language you have to learn how to self-feed. For many years it was about all I could do to get my family to church, let alone understand anything that was going on there. I've learned not to rely on a Sunday morning service to "feed" my soul. I've listened to sermons mid-week, read helpful books, pray and read the Bible very regularly, been honest with friends about how I'm doing, even formulating my thoughts enough to write them on my blog etc.

Get creative. Set a goal of doing one new thing to feed your soul this week. Think about what you've learned and share it with a good friend. Share honestly with one person about what you're struggling with spiritually.

Working from home
Home is my usual place of work, so that hasn't been a major change for me. The biggest change has been having my high schoolers and sometimes my husband join me at home, though I'm used to working here during their holidays. Some of the challenges of working at home have included a lack of private space, separating home and work, managing my time, and getting enough rest. 

Ways I've addressed these include setting "work hours" when I try to remain at my desk in our dining room most of the time, and not sitting at my desk at other times. Not looking at or answering emails or work messages outside of "work hours", including weekends. Taking the evenings off and sitting in my "relaxing chair" (admittedly, though, I'm still doing Japanese study there). Having a routine that includes watching a TV episode in the evening with my husband (something to look forward to as I work during the day). I've even got a red bandana that I put on my head if I particularly don't want to be interrupted (given that I don't have a door on my office). I don't use it often, but it has worked well when I do.

Get creative. Set up a rough schedule, including meals. Set aside time to work and time to relax. Find things to look forward to that you can slot into your day.

Grief
Yes, we're all suffering grief at this time. A loss of our plans, a loss of lifestyle, of freedom, even a fear of losing people we love. We've lost the ability to touch base with people easily in our day-to-day lives.

Yesterday I went into the office to pack the magazines we've been working on since Christmas. As I said goodbye to my two colleagues/friends at the end of the day, it was a bigger goodbye than usual. It kind-of felt like the goodbyes we do when we leave Australia or when friends leave Japan. An "I don't know when I'll get to see you again" goodbye. That hurts. I meandered my way home, not knowing when I would next get outside my own little neighbourhood. A lot like the internal processing that goes on in my last days in Australia: wandering through shops like a ghost, not knowing when I'll next be there, wondering if there's any last-minute things I should buy. It's a way of saying goodbye for now.

Get creative. There are different ways to grieve. But take your time. Think about, or even write or draw the things that you're missing. Look at photos. Talk with friends about what you're missing, or what you're looking forward to doing again. Plan what you might do next time you get the freedom to go to that favourite place or to shop freely again.

Being content in the now
One big lesson we've learnt that helps us stay afloat is finding ways to live in the present, to enjoy where we are. We've sought places and experiences that can only be done where we are. In Japan that has ranged from big things like going camping or visiting places we'd never get to if we weren't living here, to smaller things like enjoying local cuisine or appreciating the seasons in our local area.

Get creative. Are there things you can find that are unique about now that you can enjoy? Like living in your PJs all day? Or the many online experiences that are freely available? Or having time to sort through old photos? Or just having more time to connect with others who also have more time just now?

The first article I've linked to below finishes with an invitation to cross-cultural workers to join in the conversations that are circulating about confronting the challenge before us. I'm not quite sure what opportunities will present themselves to me, but I guess this blog post is a start.

The second article below mentions some other things that I've learned as a cross-cultural worker:

• loss of control
• our fragility
• dealing with fear and learning to operate out of faith instead
• our desperate need of God and compelling need to pray
• helping us distill what's really important in life
• what's our ultimate hope

I could write on all of these things also, but maybe another day.

Inspiration for this post also came from these two articles:
1. https://www.alifeoverseas.com/how-to-do-life-during-a-pandemic-cross-cultural-workers-can-add-to-the-discussion/
2. https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/things-coronavirus-teach-us/

I'd love to hear what you're inspired by in this post, or what creative things you're doing to help cope in the midst of the current season.

What do you do and how does that contribute to reaching Japan?

These are essentially the questions that many supporters want to know the answer to. Even more, they want a person such as my self, who works in support ministry, to answer this question for them. For in roles like mine the line between what we do and reaching Japan for Christ is not a clear, easy-to-discern path.

What do I do?

I am an editor, writer, and manager. I actually juggle a number of roles. I'll quickly outline them before I explain how that fits with reaching Japan for Christ.

Managing editor of Japan Harvest: this is a magazine by and for missionaries in Japan. I am involved throughout the process of putting the magazine together: from planning themes, to acquiring articles, editing, and the design/proofreading stage. I also manage the team that works together to produce the magazine.

Social media/website content manager for OMF Japan: I do a number of things in social media for OMF, including coordinating it. That includes acquiring, creating, and editing of content for OMF's Facebook and Instagram pages. I also edit and upload articles written by missionaries to the OMF website. (See below for why we're doing this.) I'm also the one who answers those who click "Contact us" on OMF Japan's website.

Editor: I've been involved as an editor in various publishing projects. The latest one is a prayer booklet for Japan that has 29 contributing authors.

Investing in others: I also seek to encourage others in their writing. This has taken various forms over the years, but this year includes facilitating a writer's retreat and teaching on written communication and social media at an OMF workshop for missionaries. 

Encouraging and helping others: It's not an official role, but I love to encourage and help others whenever I can. So when I can fit it into everything else I do, I get together with others. This happens at sports meets, volunteering at school events, at prayer meetings, at annual women's retreats, hospitality and driving, etc.

How does all that I do contribute to reaching Japan for Christ?

On our last home assignment David and I spent a lot of time explaining we support missionaries and (I in particular) mobilise for mission. I'll break that down according to the roles that I outlined above.

Managing editor: Japan Harvest magazine goes out to over 1,000 missionaries. It contributes to reaching Japan for Christ because it encourages missionaries, it inspires missionaries, and it equips them. 

Japan has a poor retention rate for missionaries. At 19 years of service David and I are well over the average length of stay for a missionary here. For many reasons it is hard to stay here for a long time in mission work. This magazine goes to many missionaries who are alone in their ministry, facing discouragement because they're not seeing results, or needing inspiration. 

It gives a venue for missionaries to share what they are doing and therefore to inspire others to try different things. It provides a place for people to encourage others in their work or to challenge them to keep their eyes focused on Jesus as they labour in this hard place. Through what people write, we learn insights about culture, language, and ways of working, we're challenged to use different methods or technology, or discover more resources (like books and websites) on relevant topics to ministry in Japan. So it is contributing to our professional development also.

Social media: this is plain mobilisation. Mobilising people to be more involved in mission—whatever that looks like for them. We're using these free platforms (Facebook and Instagram, plus our website) to tell people about what OMF is doing in Japan, to show what it's like to live here and what missionaries are like. We're helping people to know how to pray for this land and challenging them to consider serving here or to encourage others to come and serve here or to reach out to Japanese people where they are. Stories are powerful vehicles for our message and it is my joy to be able to get the stories of missionaries out to an audience of thousands! To places that it would be difficult, expensive, or even impossible to get a speaker to. (Can you tell I'm passionate about this?)

Editing: again mobilisation. Providing people with tools to help them pray or to help them help others to pray for this needy nation. By applying a high level of quality to OMF's publications and social media I am also raising the authenticity of OMF. Because we're producing good quality material, others see OMF as a mission worthy of their trust, interest, and involvement.

Investing in others: almost a decade ago God placed on my heart a desire to help missionaries get their stories out to more people. To help them help others see how God uses ordinary people to do his extraordinary work. I see that being played out across almost all of what I do now: editing people's work, helping people with their writing, and using people's stories in our social media. All of these are helping us in Japan tell others about what God is doing in Japan. I trust that God takes all of these things and uses them in ways I couldn't imagine to raise up prayer and workers for his work. Which in turn reaches Japan for Christ, but not in an easy-to-see way that evangelism and church planting does.

Encouraging and helping others: if my small contribution to someone else (be it a word of encouragement, hospitality, or some other way that I've helped them) means that they are encouraged to continue to serve, then I am contributing to reaching Japan for Christ. A number of missionaries I know are involved in church planting and evangelism and are gifted in these areas. Who knows, but perhaps a word or deed that I've done has made a small contribution to them being able to continue to work in Japan reaching Japanese people for Christ. A contribution that I would not have been able to make if I were based in Australia!

This is a bit of a rough piece of passionate writing. Do you hear my heart? I am not on the so-called "front line". I am not a soldier who is in combat. My gifting is not in evangelism or church planting. But I am passionate about supporting those who are. 

Just take a moment to think about what if everyone who was serving in Japan with OMF was a church planter or evangelist, what would that look like? Here are some ideas:

This is one of my colleagues who is also in support ministry. She processes
applicants to serve with OMF Japan as well as works in member care.
One of her previous ministries was running OMF's language school.

• We'd have lots of church plants, but the workers would be frustrated because they couldn't devote all their time to the work. They would also be spending time educating their kids, plus hours working on filling out forms for the government related to their visas, taxes, insurance, banking, rental properties etc.
• We'd have almost no prayer material, because no one would have any time to produce it, therefore we'd have almost no one praying for the work here.
• People would stagnate in their work because there would be no training, no one would have time to think about upgrading their skills, or learning new ways of working. They would be discouraged.
• There would be no one to process new applicants who wanted to come to Japan to work.
• We would have no website telling people about what we're doing in Japan.
• We wouldn't have a short-term program, or if we did it would be much smaller, and potentially cause a lot of frustration to missionaries as they took a lot of time out of their work to do the administration work necessary to get a short term worker to Japan.
• We'd have no direction or goals as a mission because we would have no leaders. Or if we did have leaders, their attention would be very divided because they would be spending most of their time leading church plants. So our work would be very ad-hoc and lacking cohesion.
• We wouldn't have a language program, people would be responsible for finding their own language teachers and program. Again, it would be ad-hoc and potentially ineffective.

Well, it's getting a bit negative. But you can see what happens when support ministries are taken away. There is a lot that needs to be done in order run a local church. The same (or more) in a mission. Of course many people come as independent missionaries or as tent makers, and people make good cases for this way of working. I'm not here to pit independent mission work vs being in a mission, except to say that I appreciate the support that OMF gives and I doubt that we would still be in Japan except for that.

Well, it's time to sign off. I hope that this is a helpful insight into my role and possibly a challenge to think more deeply about the sorts of roles missionaries can legitimately do as part of the greater missionary effort.

Short-term friendships

I've been stung. Maybe you have too? 

This is Catherine, one of the friends God has blessed me with
for this season.

Many of the relationships that I've invested in in the past in Japan are either now non-existent, or only exist on social media. I live in an ever revolving door of friendships. That's a common experience for missionaries and exacerbated in our personal situation by our close connection with an international school. (International schools have a higher turn-over even than mission organisations do, although the school we're associated at is not as bad as many in that regard.)

It would be easy for me to decide to stop investing in other people. But it would not be easy to continue to live here if I kept doing that. Yes, I can choose to be careful who I invest in, but I would only hurt myself if I decided that I would not be friends with anyone who I encounter here in Japan.

Newcomers to cross-cultural work sometimes complain that expats who've been round a while are slow to befriend them. I think that is mainly because of the tendency to "sniff them out". To gauge how long they might be likely to stay. To decide who is worth investing time in or not. That's the experience of Christie, the woman who wrote this article.

As she points out, making new friends is exhausting, and giving your heart again and again to others, to only have the pain of saying goodbye to them, is painful.

However, she makes some good points in favour of short-term friendships that are worth considering. Do go and read her article, but I'll expand on some of the reasons that resonate with me:

Gaining different life experience

I've learned so much in this crazy life. I try to get out a map when I'm getting to know people, so I've learned a lot of geography from the many people I've met. I can even tell you that Chicago is nowhere near New York or LA, I've learned that not many people picnic in the park in South Africa (at least I think that's right...that conversation was a while ago), and that Chinese are much more spontaneous than Japanese.

If you're a Facebook friend of mine you'll know that I've also learned a lot about language (it's fun asking word-questions of my friends who come from many different corners of the globe). I've learned about different cultures and had my life enriched in so many ways that I would have missed if I had only lived in one small town my whole life.

Finding peope who understand your expat life

In actual fact I miss having expats around me when we're in Australia. There is a bonding in the common life experience of major life moves, being without family, being an alien in this country, etc. that draws you together. There are things that we don't need to say between one another, yet when we talk with people who've never moved internationally, require lots of explanation.

Fast bonding and spontaneous gatherings

Knowing that that a friendship is almost probably short-term can help you bond quickly and be more spontaneous in gathering. And of course, the prerequisite understanding of the challenges of this life as mentioned above, helps too.

Bonding quickly and having a "seize the day" attitude has been a common experience. I think I've absorbed this so much that I can scare people I meet in Australia by going deep too fast for their comfort level.

Practical benefits

Word-of-mouth is a key way expats stay afloat in a place they're not natives to. Everything from doctors and dentists, to a good grocery store or park. Practically, we're often helping each other with things like a lift to an event, or help during a big more, or just being "family" when family can't be present.

So I continue to be committed to making friends here in Japan. Maybe one day I'll be blessed with opportunities to rekindle some of them longer-term elsewhere. But for now, I'll be content with what I have and not run with fear at the goodbyes that are inevitable.

It's a strange job that we have

Dragging your teenagers around with you in your job isn’t a normal job.

I "write" stuff all the time in my head, but it's a little strange that that sentence popped into my head earlier today. Of course I know that we don't have a "normal" job. But it suddenly occurred to me that most people don't take their teenagers to work with them. Most people don't have to negotiate and make lots of work-decisions with their kids in mind. At least not in the way that we do.

We're finding life and work at the moment is quite a tightrope, and it.
isn't easy to keep good balance.
Of course it is for most people, but the forces at play for us at
the moment are different to what we usually experience.

For example, twice this week I've declined "work" simply because of our boys. Both were churches more than an hour from where we live. 

One invited us to speak at both their morning services, one at 7.45, one at 9.30. In order to get to that we'd have to either leave inordinately early or stay the night. They offered to find us accomodation, but in the context of being only a couple of weeks after having spent ten days in Perth for work with our boys (plus a couple of other factors I won't name), we decided to decline the early service.

The other offered us opportunities to speak to mid-week groups. This is something we love to do, but in order to manage it, again we'd have to stay overnight somewhere, and probably more than one night. This one was easier to decide about because we've got only one car and a boy at school.

I know that kids influence most people's work decisions, but probably not quite to that degree.

Then I had another conversation with someone about when we'd next be in Australia for home assignment. Nothing is in "stone" yet, but we're thinking that we might come back for a few weeks in the middle of 2021, after our middle son graduates. But not for a longer period until 2023, after our youngest graduates from high school—five years away. This was greeted with shock. However, if you think about it, not many people with teenagers would like to rip their kids out of the school where all their friends are and move to another country for a year for work. Yes, I know it's what God's called us to do and we do it, but it isn't what most people are willing to do, nor what most employers ask of their employees (military excepting, of course).

Our boys have grown up doing this. We've been doing it since before we had children. It's a part of our lives. But that doesn't make it easy. In some ways it helps me to remember that we're doing hard stuff here. That being a teenager is hard enough without all these complications that our jobs and lifestyle add to the mix. I think they know that we care about them, that we try to make decisions with them in mind. I hope they do!

As we now go away for the weekend to a missionary conference, I hope that they will remember that we do try to consider them, even though we're dragging them along too. I  do hope that it is all worth it too, even though we might never know if it was.