Renew your Strength

I've had a book on my desk for some time now, waiting for its chance to make an appearance here. This is a book that has my name in it, in the Acknowledgments! It was written by one of my Invisible Sisters, Shirley Corder (her website). A South African friend who I've never met face-to-face, but who knows more about me than many of my friends.

Strength Renewed was born out of her experience with breast cancer and desire to help others out there going through the cancer journey. It is a collection of 90 mediations that shepherd the reader through the journey, from the shock of first diagnosis through to the end of treatment.

It isn't a book about her, though she tells many short stories of her journey. It isn't a how-to book either. The book isn't a theological one, nor is it a book about healing. It relentlessly points the reader to the God who helped her through the journey. It is a practical book, it is a book that will help you walk through the fire.

Shirley was the leader of the writing critique group that took me in several years ago. I've critiqued many of her stories, some are even in this book. I enjoy her style, she writes with fresh honesty about what she's experienced, not stopping to hide her faults.

I have never had cancer, but I know that if that ever happens, I want this book by my side. If someone I know well is diagnosed, I'll be buying this book for them and their loved ones.

Oh, and by the way, this isn't just a book for the one with cancer, it will be invaluable for the spouse, children, parents or other close loved ones.

Tomorrow and Tuesday I'm posting an interview I did with Shirley (via email). I hope you'll come and find out more about this book and its author.

Wrestling fun again

Today our eldest competed in his first wrestling meet of the season. I've looked forward to this for almost 12 months (see my reflections on his last wrestling meet here). It was worth waiting for. My son is bigger and stronger and more experienced. He wrestled well (and I understood more than I did at his first meet last year).

I'm still in awe of his hard work and perseverance. Of his strength and knowledge. So happy that he has something he's passionate about. Very proud that all his work paid off today in three victories!

But, by golly, it got my heart rate going. I was nervous and excited and emotional. Phew!

It was another pleasure hanging out with the mum of my son's good friend. We've encountered each other in various settings (and roles), but we've never had the time to just sit and chat. We got hours of that today. Fabulous time!

Great to see the relationship between him and his friend too. They are great mates, very different personalities, yet they complement each other. Great to see our son looking after his mate, for whom this was his first meet. I love seeing him grow and mature into someone I'll be proud to know.

The ordinary flow disrupted

Yesterday the ordinary flow of our lives was disrupted a little.

Our street, out of an upstairs window.

We generally experience a life of significant freedom here, in terms of safety. This is especially notable in how our kids commute to and from school.

We live only 300 m from the school gates. We can't see the school from here (we have a couple of corners to turn), but it's close. The roads between here and there are narrow and not extremely busy, so we allow our boys all to walk to and from school on their own each day, yes, even our 2nd grader. They usually don't travel together either. It's an extraordinary freedom they have (and most of their friends have too), and that we've all taken for granted!

That was curtailed a bit yesterday. After lunch all the parents received an email from the school that began:

We have had an anonymous phone threat in Japanese that there might be an attack on someone from our school after classes today.

The school made a number of adjustments to the way things usually happen, but the most intrusive upon us was to require parents to advise the school how we wanted our kids to come home. It was easy for me, I just collected them myself. But the boys weren't all that happy with the changes. They love their freedom.

And their freedom gives me freedom too! Yesterday my style was cramped. I particularly regretted that they didn't get to play outside before coming home (it was a bit ugly in our small house for a while). However, I'm grateful for the school taking the students' safety so seriously.

David and I decided that today we would also accompany the boys to and from school. They weren't particularly happy with that either.

The whole episode leaves us feeling a bit uneasy, though. For what reason did the person make the threat? Will it happen again? How safe is our neighbourhood really (living so close to CAJ, its neighbourhood is our neighbourhood)?

It reminds us to pray. It reminds us that we can't take things like freedom and safety for granted. But most of all it reminds us that ultimately our life and our children's lives are in God's hands, it is in him that we must trust, not any illusion of safety.

Photo answer #24

The closest anyone got to this answering this photo question was Michelle with "top of a drink bottle".

She's right, except she didn't guess the reason for the screw at the top. It is a camera stand that you attach to your full drink bottle.

I've never seen this before, but it's a bit ingenious! Unfortunately the times we usually need a camera stand, we need something taller than a 600ml PET bottle.

Eye contact

I've been rereading "How to Really Love you Child" by D. Ross Campbell. It is encouraging to read that he admits it is clear in research that some children are easier to raise than others. Yay! We knew that, but it is nice to have it confirmed.

We often struggle with parenting one of our kids, particularly. When we had an especially bad patch last year I talked with a wise friend who wondered, out loud, if he wasn't feeling loved. That's a hard thing to hear or think about as a parent. It's taken me till now to think about revisiting the issue. 

One thing has stood out to me so far in the book: eye contact. I don't think we've been doing a good job at giving him good eye contact.

If I take a step back for a minute and consider the context we're living in, it isn't so surprising that we may have gotten slack on eye contact (although, admittedly, we may have not ever been good at it). In Japan (and probably most of Asia), eye contact is done differently. Direct eye contact is generally avoided. In adjusting to the culture, we've moved away from eye contact too.

Holding the gaze of another person is considered rude. The Japanese usually focus on a person’s neck or tie knot.

In Western cultures, we are taught to look people in the eyes at all times; averting the eyes often signifies a lack of sincerity or confidence. In Japan, constant eye contact is considered rude or even aggressive. (From here.)

It is something that Australians notice, though probably not many can put their finger on what makes us appear different. One lady said to us at the end of our home assignment last time,

"When you first came to our church you used to sit over there in the corner and avoid looking at anyone. You've gradually changed to be more Australian in the year and now you're almost normal." She added, "It's a pity you're going back to Japan now!"

This New York author makes some very good points.

In the book The Inscrutable Japanese, by Kagawa Hiroshi (Kodansha Bilingual, 1997), the author notes that if Japanese children, when scolded, look their parents in the eye, they will be further reproached, “Why are you looking at me that way?” In contrast, if an American child looks down or away when chastised, he or she will most likely be ordered to “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Kagawa goes on to speculate about the possible reasons for this difference in behavior, such as Japan’s feudal class system in which commoners could be struck down by samurai for making eye contact.

And also tells some good stories of how odd it is for we Westerns who've adjusted somewhat to living in Japan when we return home, and how odd we must look to the "natives" there:

While I was on vacation in the US, however, I noticed right away that people were looking directly at me. I transferred planes in Detroit airport, and I cannot tell you how many times I mistakenly thought that passersby were about to speak to me. It was truly strange to experience so many people making direct eye contact like that—and I must have looked even stranger, being that I kept smiling, nodding, and even bowing to them! I was a bit dazed from the flight, having not been able to sleep at all on the way over, and when I almost bumped into an enormous man exiting the men’s room, I bowed, looked at the ground, and said, “sumimasen.” He looked at me as if I were insane! Rightly so, I suppose.  

But back to our parenting. I've only been consciously seeking eye contact for the last two days with my boys, and especially the most challenging-to-parent one. We'll see if it makes a lasting impact on his behaviour. I know that that isn't the only thing I need to do to help him feel my love, but it is one small thing that isn't really that hard to do, if I think about it. Just being conscious of it is a big step forward, especially for parents who've tried our best to fit into Japanese society.

It does leave me with one question, though. If eye contact is so important to showing love to Western kids, is that a universal rule? How do Asian parents show their kids they love them?

Japan Photo Question #24

Some of you out there love these Japan Photo Questions, so here's another one. What do you think this is?

I don't think there needs to be any restriction on who answers this one. It is doubtful to me that many people in Japan know what it is.

I'll post the answer in a couple of days.

Pondering my purpose

Today is the sort of day that I question my purpose. What am I here for? What is the point of my days? Yeah, I know, sounds very depressing, quite the naval-gazer! But really, I'm not depressed, just on the reflective side of things, the way you can get when you don't have all your time taken up with the urgent and "important" things of life.

In the last few days my purpose was mostly to relax and to keep the boys in a balanced place.

Today they all left for school and that left me in a quiet house. My location didn't change, but what I could do in that location changed. It was "back to work". But I've also got a cold, and couldn't do as much as I wanted to (including going to meet a long-time Japanese friend). So, what's my purpose? What if I couldn't do "important" things? Does that mean that my life wouldn't have purpose? When I get philosophical about it I can see that it isn't the things I do that make my life purposeful, but in the midst of the usual busyness of life, it isn't so easy to see that.

Then, as I did some New Year cleaning out of my inbox, I found this short Max Lucado devotion. If I'm truly honest I'd say that a lot of my "working" is to please. However this little devotional reminded me that for the One who truly matters, I cannot please Him any more. I cannot make Him love me any more than He currently does. He loves me and that is the end of the matter.

So, even if I can't "do" anything much, my purpose is to live as one who's loved by God. And that could take me a lifetime to figure out how to do!

This year I'm reflecting on this text that was given to me at our New Year's Eve party:

Deuteronomy 6:5
Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.

It is something I sang as a Sunday Schooler, and have "known" all my life. It's a small challenge that I've given myself this year, to ponder and try to work on doing it. So today, I'm pondering the connections between being loved unconditionally, and having my purpose as loving God with all my heart, soul and strength. How does that work out in daily, practical, busy life? Interesting thoughts.