Reflecting on our five weeks in Australia

We're back in Japan. Last night David and I went walking on one of our usual routes—it was great to start getting back into routine. While I get excited about things like retreats and conferences, meeting up with people, and travel, I function better when I have general structure around my life and am settled at home. As we walked and talked, we saw how busy and non-routine the previous weeks had been. Strangely, the longer we stayed in Australia the more chaotic things became!

In the last five weeks we've:

• spent time over multiple meals with 17 family members, not all at once, but did enjoy dinner with 11 members of my family last Friday night,
• had dinner most nights with our hosts (we stayed in four different houses),
• met around half a dozen friends for meals or coffee or walks,
• done medical and optometry stuff,

• 

  You don't know how amazing Australian skies
  are until you have lived outside Australia.

  spoke at an OMF event for people thinking seriously about mission,
• attended an OMF half-day conference in our home state,
• worked remotely (part-time) on things pertaining to our work in Japan (computer work and online meetings),
• spent time at both our home church (in Redbank Plains) and at our son's church, and
• met six dogs and two cats!

I think that's most of it...

One of the dogs we met

But the main reason we went to Australia was to spend time with our two younger sons, who only moved out last year. We had meals with them, watched footy, played video games, made (and ate) cheesecake, went to the movies, (David) took our youngest to a driving test (and he passed!), and even drove a couple of hours to an open evening at a conference one of our sons was attending (university Christian group). Without our own home we had to get a little bit creative at times, but I think it worked and was worth it.

The cheesecake I made with our 
youngest, and we all ate! It's a
family tradition.

The icing on the cake was that our eldest son and his wife were able to fly down from Townsville for our last week (they also were attending a wedding down there). We spent a few days with them at my parents' house. Finally, on our last afternoon in Australia, we got all four "kids" together (believe me, it was quite an effort!). We hung out, ate pizza, and said our farewells. Then the two "locals" (i.e. the ones who live in Brisbane and Ipswich) drove the two couples to where we were each staying the night.

It was a great month and we really appreciated all who went out of their way to host us or feed us or simply talk with us.

In the light of the "changing identity" blog post that I last wrote, I would definitely say life is changing, has changed. And this quite different "holiday" was very much proof of that. 

Back in hot, steamy Tokyo

Now we're trying to get our heads settled back in to Japan, to the work that God still has for us here. Even though some of our hearts have been left back in Australia, that has always been the case, ever since we first came in 2000. So it's not too much different, except that our kids are now living their own lives, instead of being entwined with ours on a daily basis.

Coming "home"

The day after our son's wedding we farewelled our two younger sons as they flew back to Brisbane and then worshipped with my parents and two close friends at the church of our son and new daughter-in-law. They, of course, weren't there. 

We briefly farewelled my parents after church. When I say bye to someone I often mentioned something about when I'll see them again; this time we were able to say: see you later this year. Our plan is to visit for a short time in south-east Queensland during July. Mum asked if we had dates and I laughed. Despite the blog post I'd shared the week before about looking forward to 2025, we'd barely thought beyond that weekend!

Home, with a new tablecloth!

Then had lunch with our friends and farewelled them. I wasn't ready for the farewells, but they happened anyway. We then gathered our stuff and left town, heading four hours north to Cairns. Australia is a huge place with long spaces inbetween many places (Tasmania being the exception to that). If you've been to our native land and haven't figured that out, then you haven't seen much of it! It was a tiring journey, but we listened to radio commentary of the Aussie women playing cricket against England. We cruised into a very quiet looking Cairns around dinner time, watched more cricket as we wound down in the evening, and crashed on the bed.

The next morning we were moving again: to the airport and back to a chilly Tokyo. The trickiest part was always going to be getting back home from the airport when we were so tired. We'd parked in long-term parking and once again cricket on the (internet) radio helped us on our journey! (Yes, we're cricket-mad, and not ashamed at all.) 

The most immediate culture shock we had was figuring out what speed to drive! Yep, we've driven for nearly 25 years in Japan and in 13 days forgot that most driving is slower in Japan than in Australia. Quickly sorted that and we were home in 1 ½ hours by about 8 pm. It felt odd, but also good to walk back into our apartment. It's at the same time still new-to-us and very home-like. We moved around like we were in a dream, reminding ourselves that the most urgent thing was being prepared for David to leave before 8 am the next morning (Tuesday) for work, and getting some sleep.

Some Christmas presents from our
sons that we received before
the wedding.

I predicted that it would take several days to get back into the groove, and that is exactly what happened. By Saturday we were exhausted and very thankful for a quiet day with nothing at all on the schedule.

Now those 13 days in Australia seem like a dream, except that every now and then there are reminders from our time there: like photos, messages from our new daughter-in-law, and things that we brought back with us. As usual, things have moved on in our absence, so it has been a delight to have a few friends here demanding to see photos from our time away!

So, we're going through the motions, but sometimes my thoughts and soul are still catching up with where my physical body is. It remains true that the last 12 months have contained much change for us, and I think I'm still finding my feet in this new phase of life. Please pray that I'll be patient with myself and people around me as I walk through this.

Update as we continue to settle

 Another week has past and what's happened? We're feeling more and more settled. Our apartment is feeling more homey and we really like it. On Saturday we opened up most of the boxes with books in them and put them on shelves. That's always a turning point for me in a new place. Things were starting to take shape and we were getting a better idea of what we still needed to find to make this place work smoothly.

The sunny side of the apartment (south side). This side faces the river/stream/waterway that
we regularly walk along. It's a block of four apartments and ours is the top right of this photo. If you look carefully you can see our laundry drying on our small balcony.

This is the north side. Our apartment is the top left here. The window on the left is my office.

Bookshelves populated. So fun to see old favourites there.

David leaving the apartment to go for a walk with me one evening.

Reality checks

On Sunday we went back to our old church and found that they had had to scramble to find a place to worship that morning. The electricity was off in the main sanctuary, so they moved to the room where the Sunday School normally meets. A Japanese worship service was a good reality check. In Australia we're frequently considered the experts on Japan, and especially people assume we're fluent in the language. Yet I come back here and it doesn't take long to show that, though we get by, my language, in particular, isn't superb. I understood very little of the sermon on Sunday (noting that that understanding a long monologue is one of the hardest language skills). Two days earlier, I also understood very little of the official language involved in buying a car or getting us registered at the city office (David managed better than me). But somehow we get by! It's so hard to explain to people who have never lived in a country with a difficult language like Japanese how we can feel at home here, but also not be completely fluent!

Monday

This day we rode again to a nearby shopping hub and went to a homeware store, electronics store, and a 100 yen shop. We bought a number of smaller things to help in the shower and kitchen. Best purchase was a new rice cooker (we threw our 23-year-old 10-cup one out last year). When we rode home at midday, the temperature was well above 35C and we were glad it was just a short ride home and that we could have a quiet afternoon.

Wednesday was a big day

We borrowed a car on Wednesday and did a number of jobs, this took all day and involved several hours of city driving. We drove back to the place that we're buying our new car and finished off some paperwork that we hadn't been able to do last week because we forgot to take our inkan (Japanese seal, which replaces signatures on official documents). We also found out we can't pick up our car until the end of August.

Then we drove another hour to an area we rarely visit in a car: Shinjuku. It's much more inner city than where we live. There we bought a second-hand desk off a guy I think is from Egypt. I found this in the same way I bought a few things in Australia: through Facebook Marketplace. It was a bit dodgy for a little bit, though, because he gave us a location that was over the road from his tiny apartment and said to "ring the bell" when we arrived. Alas the location was another block of apartments, none of which had his name on their mailboxes. Finally he answered my messages (I think he works late hours and was asleep) and came out to meet us.

After that we drove back closer to home to a big second hand store. There we found an IKEA armchair for half the price we would have bought it new, but didn't find the printer we wanted. 

Our second last stop was at Nitori, our favourite Japanese furniture store. It has an open plan, so much better than IKEA. And the furniture is designed for small Japanese homes, so you're much more likely to find stuff that's the right size. There we bought a carpet and curtains for our washitsu (Japanese style room with delicate woven flooring called tatami), this room is our lounge room and it's easier to take care of the flooring if it's covered. We also bought three pieces of furniture for the kitchen. I'm planning to write about that next week after the furniture has been delivered, so I can show you. Japanese kitchens initially appear impossible to Australians, who are used to lots of bench (counter) space, and quite a lot of cupboards, but these problems can often be solved with problem solving and the purchase of a few small and larger items.

Our last stop was to drop the car back to its owners and ride home. It had been a long, hot, exhausting day and my physical condition slipped back a little, but with rest in the cool and some food, I recovered and slept really well and long that night.

Lounge room is taking shape. TV is out of sight on the right and still needs something solid to sit on.

My new desk. We'll add a small bookshelf where those boxes are next week.

Recovery days

Both Tuesday and Thursday I spent mostly at home. Some of that was just resting in the cool, but also writing a prayer letter and doing more home-set up. Yesterday we also pulled the furniture out of the lounge and put the carpet in (more like a door-to-door rug) as well as David's new chair. We also rearranged the office and installed my new desk (which I really like). I keep reminding myself that we've had a big month and that slow days and recovery time is important, especially with the energy sapping heat and humidity this time of the year in Tokyo. Although, having good air conditioning at home has meant that we've been able to achieve more in a shorter space of time than we otherwise would have. 

Snickerdoodles and my microwave-
convection oven (on a temporary table)

Early in the week I also had a go at using the oven part of my microwave convection oven. I've rarely used that because in our previous house I had a really top notch oven. I made a fairly good batch of Snickerdoodles and was satisfied that I could live with this new method of baking. Though it looks a lot smaller, actually I could still bake 24 biscuits at one time (previous oven I could do 30), so it isn't too big a change, although it does take a lot longer to get up to the set temperature. Being able to bake is another of my turning points in adjusting to a new place, so being able to achieve this goal so soon after we arrived felt great.

Complexity

Settling after a big move like this takes time, even though we've moved back to our old neighbourhood. We're thankful that we've had time to make the adjustment. Jumping between countries is weird. It's like jumping between two different parts of our lives. 

Here we have a lot of history, a lot more of our lives have been lived here as adults than in Australia. This morning we rode to the police station to change the address on our drivers licences (wish it was like Australia where you do it online!). The station is across the road from where our youngest son was treated for concussion a couple of years ago. Part of the route we rode is a route I've often ridden on my way to and from my big park adventures. Our visit to Nitori brought up memories of the first time we visited this store when we were in our first month in the country in 2000/1. Our apartment has many more bits and pieces of our last 23 years than our lives in Australia do. 

But it's okay. I'm reading a biography of Naomi Osaka at present. I'm surprised by how parts of her story resonate with me. She's grown up and lives "between" cultures, as do many high level athletes. She's black, and Haitian, and Japanese, and American. I'm clearly a white Australian, but I'm also someone who's lived a long time in Japan and had a lot of interaction with the expat community here, and have been changed forever by these things. I'm gradually learning to embrace all of this complexity. 

We run our monthly news/prayer letter past our adult sons before we send it out, because it includes news about their lives. This week one of them called me out on some of what I'd written. Apparently "home" was a notion that was confusing things. It's a concept that is more complex for some people than others and certainly even more so in the midst of transition.

But to conclude this blog post, I want to reassure you that we are feeling quite at home here: in Japan and in our new abode. Each day is feeling more normal as micro and macro routines weave their way into our days. Work will add another layer to that in this coming week, but we're looking forward to being settled enough at home that we can turn our focus more outward.

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.

Come, and see

In John 1 we see two encounters over two days between John the Baptist and Jesus. On the second encounter two of John's disciples started walking after Jesus, when he noticed, he asked them, "What are you seeking?"

They replied, "Teacher, where are you staying?"

Jesus said: "Come, and you will see." 

They followed through and went and spent the day with him.

Like many of the conversations we see in Scripture, we don't get a full run-down of what's happening here, but think about that invitation of hospitality that Jesus gave: come and see.

This photo says "home" to me. I only lived there for two
years, during grades 11 and 12, but my parents have lived
 there for over 30 years. It's the only residence in my boys' lives that
hasn't changed. My parents are about to move to a smaller
 property. I'm very happy about that. But even so there is a little sadness
that this, a place that seems very "safe" to me, is not permanent.

Jesus still says "come" to us today. Do we hear him? I know I get too busy in the things I think ought to be going on, in ticking off things that are on my To Do list. I fret when I get a headache that sidelines me and makes me stop. I grumble when someone doesn't do something I expect them to do and the responsibility falls on my shoulders. I despair when things go contrary to plan and I have no way to make a new plan.

While I don't live a nomad-type-of expat life, I do live in a country where I am not a citizen. That means I live with a certain amount of non-permanency. There are times when I long for a permanent home. Do I turn to the only one who can offer that? Do I hear Jesus invitation to "come"?

In all of us there is a longing for home, for a real home, a safe place, a refuge from pain and betrayal, from disappointment and grief. A place where we are deeply loved no matter how we act, where we are nurtured and cheered on in our run for life. We look for this home in various concrete ways: the arms of family around us, walls and a roof with our name on the mailbox, an appreciative community at work, a loving spouse. (p.56, from Jane Rubietta's book*) 

The truth is that none of us live in a truly safe place. Bricks and mortar don't provide that, nor does a marriage ceremony, or a loving community. They can help, but ultimately they will fail.

Jesus's invitation reminds me of this proverb:
"The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe (Proverbs 18:10 ESV).

Yep, there's no other truly safe place. The only question that remains is: will I accept (and continue to daily accept) his invitation to come and see?

* Note: This is part four in my series of reflections on the word "Come" that Jesus used, originating from the book Come Closer: A Call to life, Love, and Breakfast on the Beach.

What does a young man who grew up in Japan look like?

Our eldest son mentioned to me that he's had some interesting reactions to people in Australia finding out where he grew up. Mostly people don't guess that he grew up outside Australia. For one person, however, it went the other way—she'd been told about him and that he was "from Japan", perhaps even "a missionary kid from Japan", but was surprised to find that he was Australian. I'm not sure what she expected, or for that matter, what anyone expects.

Sometimes when we're in Australia it feels like we're a zoo exhibit. "Come and look at this rare species: the missionary family from Japan." My kids have never said that, but I wonder. People wonder what kind of weird we'll be, they invite their kids over to meet the missionary kids. I've had people wonder why I don't have an accent (to which I point out that I do . . . if I'm speaking Japanese words known to Australians, like "kimono", "karate", or "Kyoto").

I found this at a homeware store yesterday.
We've always said, when we're travelling,
that "home is where your toothbrush is".
But home is especially where
those you love are. This, of course,
is messy when your loved ones are
scattered about.

"From Japan" is a funny label that we get slapped with. Because, just like "home", where we are "from" is complex. Our youngest was introduced as "from Japan" when he first went to kindergarten in Australia. No other parents talked to us for months until he finally got an invite to a party and we had opportunity to explain what "from Japan" meant in our case. They thought that their four-year-olds were telling weird stories and they didn't know what to do with our obviously non-Asian faces.

But it has been interesting to watch our eldest son try to figure out what home means. Up until he left home to go to university last February, it was pretty simple. Home was where we were, though that got stretched a little whenever we were in Australia on home assignment. 

Last year, when we were in Australia for six months, he didn't spend as much time with us as we'd anticipated. The house we were living in didn't represent home to him, but later in the year he realised that "home" was really more about the people he felt most at home with rather than the place. And that even though the context was unfamiliar, he felt more at home with us than anywhere else.

Then he visited us in Japan a few weeks ago. Back in the house and context where he'd lived from 2010 to 2018. That really felt like home. Back in his old bed, old routines. Though there were some key things missing, like most of his friends from those years.

So yes, it's messy. Our lives are messy, if you view them through certain monocultural lenses. But we're actually pretty comfortable with our oddities. Perhaps in Japan it is just normal to be odd, as an expat. It's in Australia that we feel more uncomfortable, especially as we have to go around talking about the oddities of what our lives look like.

Elements of home

A couple of weeks ago a Japanese friend brought back the pot plants that she'd been looking after for me. I was really glad to see them (I missed seeing her, but caught up with her over a cup of coffee last week). My humble (hard-to-kill) pot plants are a small part of what makes this house mine on a longer-term basis, not just a place that we're sleeping for a few months. We didn't have any in Australia, there was no point, but I missed having a few plants to ponder.

I've got a few spare pots, I'm looking forward to adding a couple more plants when spring takes off next month.

This one has come downstairs to our living area. No sun here, but at least it is warm. I'll keep an eye on it to see how much sun it might need. Although according to some people, being located next to the router might kill it!

This is the view from the kitchen through to the dining room and my desk (on the left, just out of view).

Getting back to familiar places is always a good thing to do when trying to re-settle into a place. The school where most of our family spends a lot of their days, has been a great place to return to. I've enjoyed getting back into the parent prayer meetings too. It's a place where transition is common and, though most people have never been to Australia, the idea of leaving Japan for several months, and then returning, is quite normal.

Last week I also made it back to the gym, another familiar place. At this place I can work out for a mere 320 yen (AU$4).

Familiar places and people. All these things make it feel like home, and different to a move to a new place. It has a surreal note to it, though. We're missing some key factors that mess with our heads occasionally. For example, though we are in mid-winter, we've not just had a cold Christmas and some members of the family can be heard humming Christmas carols occasionally. 

Now, five weeks since we arrived, the dust is starting to settle, that includes emotions. Having our eldest visit just after we arrived back was great, but it did muddle things for a bit.

A grumble and a joy

I'm frustrated and discouraged this afternoon. Being a mum is a hard slog. Being a mum of teenagers is not for the fainthearted. 

I've been trying to help one boy sort out what he's thinking, help him make a decision, but feel like I've failed this afternoon and now he's not talking to me at all. 

For several days another boy has been struggling with time management both before and after school, so I feel like each of the last few days have been on repeat: do the same stupid stuff and get the same bad result. But nothing I've done so far has made much difference, except resulted in conflict. So there hasn't been much joy with them.

I'm glad that I've got other stuff on my plate, so that I can feel like I'm competant at something! Mind you, they still like my cooking, so at least I can feel that I'm getting that right.


Sorry for downloading my complaints on you. 

I'll move on now!

This afternoon I ran into a Japanese colleague who welcomed me "home" with a hug. It was both unexpected and joyful. I do feel "home" and greetings like that only reinforce it.

Did you know that the place we've called home in Japan, Higashikurume city, is home to one of the top 100 views of Japan? I was there at a bad time of day this afternoon, with a little phone camera, but there are some spectacular views that can be seen from just outside our local train station, especially at sunset in winter.

Can you spy Mt Fuji at the end of this corridor of
 buildings in central Higashikurume?

Thoughts on home

After our recent camping trip we drove back to David's sister's place for a few more days. As we drove in the front gate we said, "We're home." That quickly got edited by the family into: "We're back at our home away from home away from home."

Our home-away-from-home-away-from-home.

Does that make sense? If you trace it back, Tokyo is "home" and Ipswich is our "six-month temporary home-away-from-home" and their aunt's place was our even more temporary "home".

Yes, "the question of where is home" is an ongoing theme in our lives. We were on the receiving end of a Q & A session at the church we spoke at on Sunday. It's another church that has been journeying with us for nearly two decades now. A wonderfully mission-minded bunch of people. We fielded many excellent, thoughtful questions. One was related to the question of "home". David quite simply stated that "We have two homes now."

It's very true. They are different in so many ways, but each has enough of a quality of "feeling at ease" in it that we can call them both home. We have spent enough time in both places that we have significant memories stored away for both. 

But the "home away from home" feeling that our boys expressed about Australia is revealing. Australia isn't a place that our boys feel so much at home in. They have spent much more time in Japan than Australia and don't have the years of memories of growing up here that we have.

At another time recently I was reading a passage in John and noticed Jesus using the word "home":

Jesus replied, “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them (John 14:23 NIV).

What a wonderful thought: that God comes and makes his home with me . . . which really means that no matter where I am, no matter where I call Home, I'm "at home" with him!

Our house in Australia

It's now been about a week and a half since we moved into a rental house in Brisbane (actually Ipswich, but if you're not an Aussie, you won't know that that is the city just to the west of Brisbane).

We've made a lot of progress and it's starting to feel like ours. We really appreciate all those who cleaned the place, collected and moved in furniture borrowed from others, and moved in our own stuff too (we'd stored mostly sentimental things as well as linen and kitchen stuff, but not furniture). There's nothing like living in a place, however, for helping you to figure out where to put things so that the household runs smoothly and works for your family.

One thing we've done in the four places that we've lived in Australia since moving to Japan in 2000, was put up our pictures on the wall, not many, but some quite significant.

This one of Uluru, an iconic Australian sight, was bought by my husband before we got married and long before we actually visited this remote spot in central Australia. The picture is large and heavy, but does a great job of brightening up a house that's mostly white.

I can't remember where this little guy came from, but I like him very much, and again he breaks up the white. I especially like this position at the end of the short hall to our bedrooms.

This one has a lot of sentimental value. It was my bouquet at our wedding. It looked more spectacular in real life (more red, less gold), but I'm really glad for this gorgeous keepsake that we've had up in every home we've lived together in in Australia.

Here it is, positioned to be seen as you walk into our bedroom.

And a few other sights of our home: the view out our bedroom window. Living here, you can take for granted the gorgeous blue skies we get so often. But when you've lived in a place where blue like this is very rare, it is an absolute treat! Not to mention the gum trees (practically) in our backyard.

We've set up this space with practical goals: notices to be pinned up, recharging stations, keys, library books, games etc. I'm not quite sure what will go on the white board yet. We've got another white board on the fridge that I'm keeping updated with "What's coming up" so as to help with anxiety about future events, not to mention communication within the family (fridges are great places to communicate with teens!). The kitchen is working well too. I'm loving so much bench space!

This was a great step forward this week too. Getting our fourth bedroom into shape as an office, not just a place to dump extra boxes. We've been working on getting our presentation material into shape. Sunday is our first public engagement. This is a cosy place to work, and there's a window right next to my desk where I can see our gum tree in the front yard. 

I'm so thankful for this quiet place to call home for the next six months. It's got several features that I've rarely enjoyed in my adult life: an ensuite, a walk-in-robe, a dishwasher, a kitchen with a lot of bench space, a double-car garage with a remote control door, and a separate-from-the-bathroom yet inside laundry. Oh, a backyard too, but not too big a backyard (last time we had a huge backyard that was hard to take care of).

We have phones, and internet too. So we're all set up, really quickly.

Just thankful. Especially thankful that we can be settled so quickly, that that wouldn't have been possible without some very key people here who worked hard on our behalf before we even left Japan.

Home or not

Notes that two different friends gave us yesterday. Both from people
we didn't know when we came back three years ago.

Where is home? 

That's a good question and one that keeps coming back at people like us.

The best I can say is that we have two homes. We have, now, roots in two places. Different roots, but roots nonetheless.

Consider what I've done this week:

1. I went to the doctor and got asthma medication that will probably last me through the whole of our six months away. Yes, I could get this medication in Australia. But probably it is more expensive there, so I decided to get it here and avoid the hassle of going to the doctor there for that. Our doctor here is about a kilometer from our house and an easy five minute ride. The errand was done in just over an hour, including travel. Our doctor in Australia is more than 20 minutes drive (including an expressway) from where we'll be living.

2. I got a haircut. Again, something I could do in Australia, but I did it here because again it's convenient and what I know. Also cheap (under AU$20). 

Our free "shop".

3. Yesterday we had a see-you-later party. It doubled as a way to get rid of a bunch of food stuffs that we'd not managed to use up. No one who came, came primarily for the giveaways, though, they came to see us. We had 14 adults, 9 kids, and 2 babies come over the course of the afternoon. They all wanted to see us! But most took our food with them too. All of them are expats like us and have been where we are multiple times. There is community in that shared experience.

4. I put roughly 2/5 of my wardrobe into a suitcase this morning. Not all of it.

5. I rode home along our city's rivers this afternoon (after my haircut). Saying goodbye in my heart all the way.

Our corner of Tokyo is particularly beautiful. I ride along our rivers as often as I can
while going about my life. This afternoon I rode here, probably for the last time
for six months. Just gorgeous. Those trees lining the side of the river are Cherry Blossoms
with their summer clothes on.

Considering the above, does it sound like Australia is totally home for us? I don't think so. We definitely have a home here.

But Australia is also home. Consider the things on our to do list (no particular order):

1. Have as many BBQs as possible.
2. See as many good friends as we can reasonably do so.
3. Spend time with family.
4. Spend time at our home church.
5. See a live cricket match.
6. Go to a Sons of Korah concert.
7. Have a hot Christmas.

And even (for me):

• Eat mangoes.
• Buy new underwear (yep, haven't managed to integrate into Japan that much yet, sorry for the TMI).

I'm sure there are many others.

Yep, Australia is home to us too. Part of the ever present tension in our lives is that we can never be in both places at the same time. We always have to be absent from one (and all the people who go with that place). So our hearts aren't just full of anticipation at going to Australia, they have corners of sadness at leaving our home here too.

This is where the two rivers that slice through our city (Higashikurume), join together—just down the road from us.
David and I often ride over that bridge on our way home from church.

Two more sleeps and we will farewell this home-corner of Tokyo. One more sleep after that and we will farewell Japan, but just temporarily.

Home: a slippery concept

The current place we call home. We don't
really talk about "going home" to Australia
anymore. It certainly doesn't represent "home"
to our kids who have spent many more years
in Japan than in Australia.

Home is a tricky concept for us and for our kids. I've written about that before. I saw a heart-rending post today Velvet Ashes' "The Grove". It's based on kids who are much younger than mine, but illustrates a couple of the challenges younger kids face in understanding a mobile lifestyle. Our older kids have different issues, but these are fed by those early insecurities of changing homes.

One of our boys clings to home like crazy. He hates being away from whatever our current home is, for any time more than necessary. It's hard to help him with this struggle. I'm praying that with maturity, especially spiritual maturity, he'll feel less of a need to control his environment and be more flexible.

Our eldest is starting to look forward to moving out of home this time next year to go to Australia for university. That will be a huge change for all of us. But it is a natural moving on as our boys grow and find their own way in the world. Our home will never look the same again because the people in it will have changed. Home is not just the house you live in.

Sometimes it is helpful to remember that our homes are
really only as temporary as a tent.

I was at CAJ's special chapel meeting again this morning. The speaker emphasised to the students how important it was to have God and his Word at the centre of our lives. They are the only unchanging things in this life. Such an important point to make to a group of TCKs.

The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;    my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,    my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold (Ps. 18:2, NIV).

And my favourite Psalm: 139. These verses made me cry as I put my first baby boy to bed one night not too long before we left Australia the first time. I told him this:

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your [God's] hand will guide me,
    your [God's] right hand will hold me fast (vv 9 and 10 NIV).