Time to rest (and move)

One of the biggest challenges of a short, fast-paced home assignment is getting rest. We've designated each Monday as a day off and have that written on our online shared calendar. It's important to decide that beforehand otherwise a dangerous "creep" can happen and you end up with not enough time to truly rest. Also, we're trying to have a mentality that downtime can happen at other times too. This week we have meetings on Wednesday and Thursday evenings. It'll be wise to have rest time during the day on those days (and probably Friday morning too...after an evening event I often don't sleep well).

Yesterday (Monday), on our designated day off, we went a little further afield for a longer walk. White Rock Conservation Park is not far from our home church in Redbank Plains, Ipswich. We've lived around this area several times in the last 15 years and yet never gone to the park, though I've heard it mentioned many times by people. Yesterday we had good weather, plus the time and energy to go and explore it. We ended up walking seven kilometres through typical Queensland bushland. It was a delightful outing that was good for us on many fronts.

There were so many gorgeous trees, mostly a typical Queensland eucalyptus forest.

The "rock" itself is a sandstone outcrop. We walked from the carpark in to the rock and out again.

We saw a number of kangaroos, but none so close as these two who calmly grazed on grass as we walked within a few metres of them.

When we were almost back to our car we passed this kookaburra. He was perched at head height, only a metre or so off the track and also didn't move as we walked past, pausing to take his photo.

Not tying my significance to my busyness

Yesterday I got to ride to my favourite large park. I don't think I've been there since April! It was my first ride there after the worst of the summer heat had abated. Just like last year, for weeks I've found myself longing for this.

It wasn't just a 16 km ride, I stopped in the park for a picnic and read (mostly non-fiction) for over three hours. Like a mini retreat, really. Also, riding a bike gives you time to think! And I think better when I'm doing something physical.

I was surprised when two main books I spent time reading yesterday intersected in some of their themes, as they are authors from very different worlds. The first one I mentioned a couple of weeks ago: Life Interrupted by a friend, Susan Chapman, it was published three years ago during the pandemic. It's short and jam packed with things to think about how we live our lives, our expectations, how to continue to grow, and take care of ourselves at the same time. Susan is a missionary with our organisation and I've known her since before we came to Japan. She, like me, has lived her life in Australia and East Asia and grew up in a similar part of Australia to me. Her book was born out of a major interruption that she and her husband experienced during Covid. It's a text that you could use for a retreat or a small group, because there's plenty of questions and avenues to explore.

The Cosmo field: I alway stop here
and take photos at this time of the year.
They were almost the only flowers in the
whole park yesterday.

One quote that stood out to me was, "To say no appropriately, we need to stand against any cultural expectation that our busyness is linked to our significance. Author Brené Brown sums it up well—'if we want to live a wholehearted life, we have to become intentional about cultivating sleep and play, and about letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth.'"

The second book is The Road to Daybreak, and is the first book I've read by Henri J.M. Nouwen. I've seen him mentioned by authors like Tim Keller and Philip Yancey, but haven't picked up one of Nouwen's works myself. Henri was a Dutch Catholic priest who worked for much of his life in north America; he was an intellectual as well as a priest, a speaker and mentor as well as dipping his toe in the waters of missionary work in South America. This book was extracted from a diary he wrote during a year when God led him away from the intellectual world of Harvard into a very different life. He was serving as the priest at a L'Arche home in France. (L'Arche ("The Ark") is an international federation of non-profit organisations working to create networks of community where people with and without intellectual disabilities live and work together–Wikipedia.) 

I've only just begun this latter book, but am finding it fascinating. He was in his early 50s and was searching for God's leading.  He writes: "I feel a tension within me. I have only a limited number of years left for active ministry. Why not use them well?...Time given to inner renewal is never wasted. God is not in a hurry."

So here the two books coincide. I struggle with needing to link my output to my significance. Nouwen was discovering that these people he was living with (and indeed himself also) were significant despite having limited output and limited potential for the future as far as the world understood it. I know this all in my head, but I so often fall short when I try to link that to my thoughts about my own worth and value. I want, so often, to prove my value to others through what I do and how busy I am, I get depressed when work is a little slow and my thoughts turn to all my deficits and then start condemning me as "pretty useless really".

I saw a lot of red dragonflies. This one is
called the "Spotted darter".

So with these authors speaking to me, I felt very much at peace reading in the park yesterday. It was a rare "perfect" day in Tokyo: neither hot nor cold, not windy or wet or grey. This side of heaven I will never get my thoughts and feelings perfectly aligned with how God sees me, but maybe, incrementally, I can grow more Christ-like and less tied to my faulty thinking.

The sky was gorgeous!

Farewells to precious things and places

If I were a poet, I’d be able to write some odes this week as I say some goodbyes to things. But as I’m not, a blog post will have to do. 

Oven

The first one would be my Japanese gas oven. Most Australian homes come with ovens and stove tops, that’s not the case here. In fact installed ovens are rare. More common are small convection microwave ovens that you plug in and can use both as a microwave and a conventional oven. When we moved into this house in 2010 there was a giant, old American gas oven in the kitchen. Obviously it had been imported by a former American tenant (there had been several prior to us taking over tenancy). It was old, however, and you practically had to lie on the floor to light the oven.

Five years after we moved into the house the oven started leaking gas and we had to dispose of it. I’ve written before about that drama and the decision to buy a (not cheap) Japanese gas oven. It’s not common for missionaries here to buy an oven to install in their homes, but I’m glad we did. I use this oven a lot. It’s brought me much joy and many people have been blessed by what we’ve been able to cook in it.

Because we own it we are responsible to get it uninstalled (not something we can do on our own), but also have the potential to take it to our new place next year. However, it remains to be seen if the owners of our next place will allow us to have this installed there. 

So we’ll put this in storage on Monday and wait to see if we’ll ever be able to use it again. I really hope so as I love cooking and this is the best oven I’ve ever used (yep, it beats anything I’ve used in Australia).

Plants

The second things I’d write about saying goodbye to are my plants, which have almost all gone now. This time, instead of asking just one person to look after more than a dozen plants, I asked local FB friends if they’d like to nominate one or more that they’d like to take care of. As a result about six people have taken plants for the year. I’m sad that my house is looking empty and I don’t have plants to look at and enjoy, but also glad that I haven’t had to throw them all out. 

I’m not really a gardener, but I have grown to love a few pot plants (yes, that's really what Australians call plants in pots) in my house. The bay window halfway up our stairs and just outside the bathroom has been a great place to put them, and probably the thing that most started me down this path. Keeping plants there made them easy to take care of and provided a great shelf of green (and sometimes other colours, when they flowered) to look at. The plants overflowed from this shelf and we've had plants in other places, including the narrow platform outside our tatami lounge room (maybe called an engawa) and a shelf outside our dining room. These locations also made plants easy to take care of and were visible from our living areas. 

I probably won’t have any plants in Australia, one year is just too short, unless I get a couple with the intention of gifting them to others at the end of our stay. We’re happy that the garden in this new house is almost non-existent (we’ve had the opposite and struggled with the responsibilities). But the great thing about this new house in Ipswich is that it’s close to lots of parkland with many, many plants that I don’t have to take care of, just enjoy!

Bike and park (rides)

Third thing to say goodbye to is my bike, and that is closely linked with the park I’ve ridden to numerous times in the last eight years.

This bike has done many kilometres. It’s my workhorse, I've used it it on my twice weekly shopping trips where both baskets are usually fully loaded. It’s rarely let me down and has needed minimal maintenance. I’m giving this bike away next week, and will likely get a new/er one next year.

The bike has also given me the opportunity to ride to the big park south of us (about 5 km). This park-ride, as you might know if you’ve been following this blog for a while, is a destination that I love to go to. It’s not just that it’s a great destination, it’s the anticipation, the “hope” that that can give me after a busy stretch at work that has been incredibly valuable.

Here is my first post about riding to the park in October 2015, it mentions a resolution to ride there every week or two, but that simply hasn't been possible. I haven't kept a track of how many times I've ridden there, but it would be unusual to ride more than twice a month and sometimes several months went past without going.

I rode here on Wednesday this week to say my goodbyes and sat for a while thinking of many of the visits I’ve made. I was able to get there during the pandemic and did a personal retreat there one day in 2020, when I’d been cooped up in my house for months with the rest of the family as they did school, and then a long summer holiday at home. I’ve visited on my birthday, enjoyed the cherry blossoms and the many other flowers that bloom through the year. It's been fun to visit in all seasons and see how it changes. I've met friends there, and eaten many a picnic in this park. 

Our first encounter with this park was when the boys were young as it’s got a lovely big playground and bike rental place (we used to drive when we were taking the family). I’ve got memories of those times too. One particular car trip stands out, when I had a car load of kids (ours plus one extra) telling really bad jokes…for the whole trip (about half an hour, but felt like an eternity).

These days the park has become “mine”. A place to retreat to, to enjoy peace and quiet, and the exercise getting to and from has been good too, when I could get there.

But alas it’s goodbye for now to this place too. As I’ve already written, there are many green areas close to our new home, so I’m looking forward to them too, but I’ll miss Koganei Koen (park).

House

And soon it will be goodbye to this house too. We stop living here on Sunday evening and will hand the keys over next Friday (14th). It's the end of an era, one that started when our youngest began kindergarten and ended when he graduated from high school! That might not seem to remarkable to you, but to most missionaries that is an unusual stretch of time living in the same house. 

So we're thankful and know that it's time to move on. Next July, we hope to be moving to somewhere smaller that's easier to keep cool in summer and keep warm in winter, and also easier to keep clean! Hopefully it will also be a place I can keep pot plants, can ride to this park, and can continue cooking with my oven!

Mt Coot-Tha botanical gardens meander

This week we've had beautiful weather here in Brisbane. And it's turned into a "week of parks". On Monday three of us spent a couple of hours at Mt Coot-Tha botanical gardens, a place we've driven past many, many times, but not gone in. It was spectacular. I've shared some photos at the end of this post.

On Friday we met my parents at Queens Park in Ipswich for a BBQ lunch, also a really lovely park, but one that's much older (159 years, according to a plaque I saw). The park also houses a free Australian native animal zoo that we enjoyed. It's the first time we've gone to a zoo in many years. It was a fun experience with these Aussie boys who've not spent much of their lives in Australia.

Today David and I spent several hours at a much newer park: Rocks Riverside Park. We were joined by two couples who have known us for many years. Great conversations.

The temperatures here have been around 20C in the middle of the day. Very comfortable. Alas David and our youngest son are about to return to Tokyo, where the temperatures are hot and humid day and night. I'm sad to see them go, but happy that I don't have to brace for that.

The next month is going to be weird. David and I have rarely been apart for so long, and in this case we'll both be single parents. I'm staying here and "telecommuting" to Japan from my desk. My middle son and I are also moving to our sixth bed for this trip on Monday. For the next four weeks we'll be staying with a family from our eldest son's church, incidentally, the same family he lived with for a few years. Later in the month we'll move one more time: this time to two separate places. Our son will stay with his brother for a couple of weeks and I'll stay with a friend and her family.

It's a very different look to our usual routine, so will take some adjusting to. On top of starting work again, I will have a few more appointments to attend with our middle son. These extra two weeks will also give me more time to hang out with my two older sons. Plus I plan to catch up with a few more friends that I haven't been able to see thus far. 

We'll see how it all works. The main idea is to give our anxious middle son a bit more time to experience Australian life, experience that we hope will help fuel his thoughts about the future. 

I am a little anxious about my return in September, because in addition to the uncertainty about international travel at this time, our visas expire only two days after we're planning to fly back. Worst-case scenarios are playing on my mind, especially if I awaken at 3 or 4am!

Trust in the Lord, that's what my close friends are reminding me to do. God who goes before us! 

    It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed (Deut. 31:8 ESV)

Early this morning I was also silently repeating as much as I could remember of Psalm 23 to myself:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

    I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

But look at these photos from the Mt Coot-Tha botanical gardens. I've used a free app, PictureThis, on my phone to identify them accurately.

Japanese camellia

New Zealand cabbage tree

Hairpin banksia (native Australian)

Aloe vera

Coral tree (native to Brazil)

My companions in this two-hour stroll

Butterfly agave

Close up of the hairpin banksia flower

Crimson bottlebrush (native to Australia)

Cockatoos

Parrot's beak

Just my little phone camera: so I couldn't Zoom
in to the two kookaburras who were entertaining
us from the top of this sign. We've driven past
this sign so many times! It was odd to be on the other side of the wall.

Endemic to this part of Australia: bush turkey.

Grevillea (Red silky oak, a species of spider flowers, an Australian native)

Huge fern: silver tree (from New Zealand)

An unexpected outing to inner city Tokyo

Earlier this year I worked on a magazine issue themed "Rest". You can check out most of the articles we published in that issue here. When we asked the missionary community in Japan for article proposals, we were overwhelmed with people wanting to write on this topic, so it's obviously something that missionaries in Japan (among others) have thought about quite a bit. 

However, when we talk to people back home, it's not often that people ask us about how we get rest on the mission field. I wonder if this isn't something that people think about until they have actually left their home country and are desperately tired? I know that when we first landed in Japan we were quite exhausted from what had gone before and I can't remember if anyone ever talked to us about pacing ourselves.

I was quite encouraged to see an article in the latest magazine that we've completed (last Saturday) that talked about mentoring people interested in long-term mission. It was an internship program that their organisation runs and one of the five main areas that this couple focus on with their interns is Staying Healthy, which includes incorporating rest into your life.

Well, I've been in Japan for over 21 years now and I've had to learn about rest. I still have lots to learn, but I've learned a few things along the way. Like: How to rest when you've got three lively young boys. How to rest when your to-do list seems enormous and overwhelming. How to rest when no one else in Japan seems to, and how to manage when just making it through a short Japanese-language church service is exhausting. How do you rest when you're very aware of the urgency of reaching Japan for Christ? And when going anywhere away from home just takes so much out of you.

I still remember our first holiday in Japan. Just following the paper map (in Japanese and pre-Navi) was exhausting. Then we needed to figure out buying groceries in a small rural town and a strange missionary holiday house (believe me, they are often stranger than the usual place you'd rent back home). On top of that, we had a lively 2 y.o. and no one but us to look after him.

Over the years we've learned different ways and means of resting and that it isn't an option, rest is essential, as is pacing ourselves. We've had to approach this missionary life more like a long-distance journey, than a sprint. But we still struggle, life and ministry have a way of being busy and both David and I are self-starters, which means that we can be quite driven. I've been trying to finish this blog post for several days. I've been wrestling with tiredness as well as drivenness. Tiredness won out yesterday morning and I rested all morning.

My busyness at work tends to ebb and flow. Thankfully I am not expected to fill out a time-card, so if work is a bit quiet, it's okay to take some time to rest. So last week many people in Japan were resting, or at least recreating, with several public holidays on the calendar. Our house, typically, looked different. Our school didn't take all the holidays, in fact only one. I had plenty of work on my to-do list, including a magazine I hoped we could finish by the end of the week to accomodate the schedule of one of our team members. So I didn't plan to take time off, merely held it as a possibility, if the opportunity arose.

Last Wednesday (a beautiful day, not unlike today), a colleague who lives over an hour away, met me halfway for the afternoon and we explored a little corner of Tokyo. I'm not really a city person, as you might know, but I do find Tokyo to be an intriguing place. Certainly a city where nature isn't completely sidelined. There's still lots of life-giving green to be found if you look.

The area we walked around is near the purple star at the top of the map.

We walked several kilometres, exploring an area around the Iidabashi station, an area just north of the Imperial Palace. That included walking along a portion of both sides of the Kanda River, a short foray along a street in the neighbourhood of Kagurazaka to find lunch, and a stroll around a famous walled garden.

I'm going to show you the afternoon through photos and captions.

Sloped street in Kagurazaka. Lots of quaint stores that beg to be explored.

It's appealing because it's not over-the-top "shiny" and commercial like some famous

areas of Tokyo. This webpage tells me some of the charm is because there's a large French 

expat community here, including a French international school.

This is one of six train lines that run through Iidabashi! Most of them are underground, thankfully. The river is the Kanda, which is only 24 km long and lies entirely within Tokyo borders. This is taken from the southern bank looking northwest away from the palace towards Shinjuku, one of several "city centres" within Tokyo. 

A bit to the left of the photo above, taking looking down the river. In the middle is a place you can fish! I'm not a fisherman, but this just seemed to be lacking any appealing atmosphere.

This is on the opposite side of the river, looking towards the Imperial Palace and the actual "city centre". Later we walked along under those trees behind the train.

More city views from the southern bank.

Who would have thought? Inner city Tokyo? Many of these trees are cherry blossoms and so would have been amazing in a different way a month ago.

Stunning huge tree.

Then we made our way to Koishikawa Korakuen Garden. I'm guessing that some of you have been to a Japanese garden overseas, but in my experience it's a little different in Japan, not that I've been to that many in either place. The biggest difference would be the age. Japanese gardens/parks in Japan, the sort you walk around and admire the ponds, etc., are old. The trees are mature and there's a lot of history embedded in the park. This one is nearly 400 years old.

The English brochure says it was originally built by the founder of the Mito branch of Tokugawa clan (a powerful clan in the Edo period, 1603 to 1868). It is a circuit style garden with ponds and manmade hills centering on the pond. Like many things from Japanese history, it has Chinese influences. It has two special designations: Special Historic Site and the Special Place of Scenic Beauty. Part of this status is the recognition that it is a valuable property that has survived the Great Kanto Earthquake and war damage as well as progressing urbanisation.

Luminescent new-spring leaves.

You can see a hill and winding path behind me in this picture. These small hills and circular paths make the garden seem larger than it actually is. There's no one spot where you can see all the garden.

There's no escaping that this is a garden surrounded by a high-density city. The ambience was tempered by the noise of a neighbouring amusement park rollercoaster and a concert in the adjacent Tokyo Dome. Not to mention it was hard to keep the buildings out of some photos, but here I really liked the reflection in the pond.

You've made it this far: well done! This day was not my typical idea of a rest day, but I did come away feeling filled up and refreshed. I got to hang out with a friend and talk about the various things going on in our lives, I got to see a tiny bit more of this amazing city, including some beautiful green and even amazing man-made structures (though a tree will usually trump a building for me).

The good and the bad, and joy in the midst of it all

I have a lot to be thankful for this week . . . maybe I'm learning how to have joy in the midst of pain?

On the one hand, I've been weary and overwhelmed, and I've struggled with headaches all week. 

Playing French cricket with our UK friends on Saturday was fun.
And the sky was magnificent viewing: all day! It's not often you
get so far from other people and buildings in the greater Tokyo area.

But on the other hand, we've had some great things happening. Last Saturday, despite being unable to do our planned camping trip, and having some last-minute hiccups, we were able to spend the day with friends/colleagues. I was able to have a long weekend—a quiet day of just relaxing at home on Tuesday was very unusual, but matched with my family's schedule (school's Fall Break) and was needed. 

And, after months of waiting, we're seeing some positive changes in the local situation. The number of new COVID-19 infections is the lowest it's been all year. This week three meetings that have been online for many months have been, or will be, in person: a prayer and fellowship meeting with our mission, a prayer meeting at school, and worship on Sunday at church. 

All good, but also a tad overwhelming in the suddenness that it's all changed. We've also seen forward movement on a couple of fronts for one of our guys, which is very encouraging, but has made my schedule next week a bit busier than I'd like.

Another unexpected thing I've been doing this month is a daily photo challenge with Taking Route, an online community for expat women. The challenge is #thisglobalwalkoutside. Using daily photo prompts, expat women around the world are taking photos outside and sharing them. I've not been interacting much with the community, but been simply enjoying taking the simple prompt and searching each day for a photo to take (or one that was taken earlier) and post, plus something to write about the prompt (I can't resist the writer-side of me). It was something I stumbled upon at the start of the month and I have to say the results have been unexpected. My reflections have surprised me (as have some of my photos).

I have to say also, that despite all that I've had going on, plus a headache, I've been remarkably productive in even this short week . . . but that reminds me that I must get back to my To Do list before this working week is over.

Feeling a bit buffetted

I think it's been nearly four months since I rode to the big park to the south of us. I made it there on Wednesday for a solo picnic. I’ve had a lot of Zoom time in the second half of this month. So when it dawned on me on Wednesday morning that I had a small window where I could escape from the house (and work), I seized it. 

Even though we’ve had some hot days this week, the season is definitely early autumn. Nights have cooled down. In the park some of the leaves are starting to change. And though Wednesday was a warm day, it was a tad cool in the shade at times. 

As I always do before going on a longer ride, I'd checked the weather and there was no forecast of rain. But as I got closer to the park, the sky got greyer and the wind stronger. Had the forecasters made a mistake? When I arrived, I pulled up my trusty weather app and looked at the radar. There was a small thunderstorm headed my way! So I parked myself at a table near a small non-ornate gazebo and ate lunch.

Thankfully it never did rain, though it looked like it could for quite some time. The sky eventually cleared to the white puffy clouds we’d started the day with.

If I'd hung around longer, I might have gotten
better captures of these two bugs who were
very intent on harvesting the remains of this
past-its-prime flower. I think they are Middle-east 
flower scarabs.

After I ate I read for a while and then took some time searching for photos, having been inspired by a nature photography seminar I participated in the day before. The seminar encouraged us to take our time, to breathe, to be renewed as we looked for things to photograph. I have for some years now been on the lookout for things to capture, often small or unusual things or angles, but mostly opportunistic things. That is, as I’m out and about doing other things. It was good to take a few minutes to change focus a little bit, to feel like it’s more than okay to do that. In the midst of so many video calls and intense interaction, it was very good to be out in the fresh air, and away from buildings and people.

But this morning, as I sat in my relaxing chair in our lounge room, rotating between various activities: Scrabble, game on phone, Japanese vocab and kanji (character) review, I’ve been reflecting on the last couple of weeks and wondering why I’m feeling a bit buffetted. I think it’s not just the busyness of those days, but also the emotional highs and lows. And a list is good to help explain that, so in the last two weeks I’ve—

Light was difficult for capturing this ant,
but I tried.

• Led nine hours of meetings with my magazine team over two days. This was an emotional high, but also a heavy responsibility that exhausts me.
• Sat through two days of online field conference, during which we farewelled ten colleagues who are retiring in the coming year and brought tears.
• Interacted in person, via text, and on video calls with a handful of friends and colleagues who wanted to know how I really was, and I got mixed responses. One of which really disappointed me and others that really lifted me up.
• Had to share briefly in a small group of OMF colleagues about the challenges of the last 18 months. I know none of these people well, and wasn’t sure how much to share. It turns out my brief summary was enough to make them feel like they had nothing significant to share :-( So I felt that perhaps I did have reason to be feeling a bit overwhelmed and tired, if other people, who hadn't heard most of the details, are taken aback.
• Made a small step forward in planning for the next few months for a member of our family. It was a small, but significant step that had me feeling elated.
• Low-key celebrations of a birthday and our wedding anniversary.
• Led a prayer meeting online for our mission. At night, which is a challenge for me.
• Had an article published in the US that was quite personal (it’s here). It was great to have a writing opportunity, but also emotional to get my thoughts out there.

That’s probably enough! Yes, I think there are a few reasons there to feel like I’m a bit depleted. So in retrospect I see that the couple of hours I was able to spend in the park on Wednesday was a real gift from God. As is this quiet weekend. And no, I’m not going to be an overachiever today. I think sitting quietly is really okay, otherwise I’m probably going to end up saying something to someone that I really will regret (a classic sign of exhaustion for me).

So, here are a few photos from my God-given time out.

• 

  Summer cypress

  
  

  

  Balloon flower.

  
  

  

  Not exactly where I sat to eat and read, but close by. You get the idea that this park has
  some lovely tall trees, and more than a few.

  
  

  

  A dahlia, I think, reaching for the sky.