'Twas the week before Christmas

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

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

—penned by David Marshall, Dec '23

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

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

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

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

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

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

I live in a dichotomy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emotions and conversations

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

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

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

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

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

. . . 

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

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

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

Strength comes from quietness and dependence?

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

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

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

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

This reminds me a bit of Psalm 23:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This week of metaphorically walking alongside our sons has included:

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

  

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

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

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

Fun

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A couple of admissions

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Entitled thinking 

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

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

Ouch!

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

Need to be careful where I put my focus

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rowboat, sentences, and driver's licence

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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