This weekend's adventure promises surprises

Today we're flying to Canberra and tomorrow evening we'll drive to the camp of one of our supporting churches from Canberra. The camp is at Jindabyne, one of the highest settlements in Australia (just under 1000m above sea level) and a service town for ski resorts like Thredbo and Perisher in winter. 

It's just into March, therefore past the peak of summer, theoretically, though you wouldn't know it by today's 40 degree C forecast for Brisbane. But it looks like they know about autumn in Jindabyne, today's forecast is 6 to -3C! I've been trying to think of how cold I felt at the Youth Group's ice skating on Friday so that I can actually pack appropriately.

Tomorrow, before we drive south, we'll visit two families who support us. It looks like we'll have a bit of time to do visit something like the National Science and Technology Centre too (Questacon). This is the fourth time we've visited Canberra since 1999 on our missionary journeyings, so we've seen these before, but each time we go back our boys are older and it's like new for them.

It's a long way south, but no, we're not driving. We'll
fly to Canberra and drive another 2 hrs south to the camp.

As for the camp itself, we're not really sure what it will be like, except that there's likely to be teaching and food. From the sounds of an email we received today, it also sounds like there's going to be some serious non-scheduled time where various sports like tennis, basketball, volleyball, or even water sports could be on the cards. There might even be some wildflowers to see.

One part of me is excited about this adventure. It's a great opportunity to see people we haven't seen for ages and to get to know this church better. Plus, I've never been this close to Australia's highest mountain (though it will be 60km away).

The second part of me is feeling tired and wondering if I'll last the distance.

Then the third part is reminding me that God is my strength, I'm not in this alone.

Psalm 28:7:

The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him (NIV).

How long should you give a missionary to speak?

Most churches, when we visit them to speak in their worship service, give us between two and seven minutes to speak. It doesn't escape our attention that it doesn't matter how long someone has been overseas: those who've been on a two week trip get the same amount of time as those who've been serving overseas for many years. From our perspective it doesn't seem quite right.

It must be noted, however, that missionaries have a bad reputation of being boring and longwinded. I know from experience that most people, missionary or not, when called on to do public speaking don't plan well and end up talking much longer than they were supposed to. So I guess in some ways it makes sense to say, "You have five minutes," while expecting that they're going to talk for twice that amount of time.

We missionaries have an obligation to be well prepared and stick to the guidelines the church gives us, even if we feel they are restrictive.

I found a lengthy, but helpful and practical article published by Barnabas about caring for missionaries when they're on home assignment. He has wise counsel to give churches:

"Be sure to give missionaries plenty of time and opportunity to report on how the Lord has used them in their ministry. Don’t just give them two minutes in a worship service or five minutes in a Sunday School class, no matter how many missionaries a church has or how important the sermon is. There’s a sense in which by denying missionaries a sufficient time to report, you’re denying them the possibility of fully sharing how “God worked through them” (Acts 14:27); thus your rejoicing with them is diminished and your giving glory to God for what He did is lessened as well."

We're thankful for opportunities like we'll have this coming weekend. We've been invited to the church camp of a supporting church in Canberra. It is a long journey to just speak for a short while on the Sunday, but instead we're allowed to not only speak to those at the camp for 40 minutes, but also to be present with them throughout the long weekend. I'm sure that I'll be exhausted after three days of answering questions over meal tables, but, nonetheless, it is a great opportunity!

Life gets messy

February felt like we were operating from a base of jelly. We struggled to get our balance and figure out a schedule that would work for everyone. I think it took us all by surprise a little. The weekly schedule isn't the same as last year, for a few reasons.

David's part-time job
Last week David started lecturing at a tertiary education level. He's working with 2nd year primary education students teaching them about teaching maths. He's does this from Tuesday to Thursday, during the mornings and early afternoons.

He takes our only car and leaves before we're allowed to take our youngest to school. So that's put some pressure on us to do the best we can to make sure we don't need the car.

Music lessons
Two of our boys have musical instruments that need to go to school, on different days. One doesn't work well on a bike and the other we've spent the whole month trying to find a way for it to work (it's not easy to get racks to fit bikes here in Australia). Thankfully the third instrument doesn't need to go to and from school (percussion).

Sport
A variety of sporting opportunities have opened up for the boys (starting school at the beginning of the school year is to be recommended). Our middle son has enjoyed trying out futsal and touch footie. Both of which are after school. Our youngest son is doing AFL after school one day a week too. And they're all still doing wrestling training on Monday or Wednesday nights plus Saturday mornings. Our oldest has been attending cross country training before school one or two mornings a week and this morning they all went.

It's thoroughly confusing. Especially when you realise that sometimes we don't have a car available to do this, so bikes and good weather are necessary. Thankfully the two older boys are able to ride to and from school without us accompanying them.

School Meetings
Yep, each of our boys' classes had an information meeting, either on Monday or Wednesday nights, messing up our wrestling schedule.

Church meetings
The meetings that have remained the same are the church meetings. Bible study that David goes to on Tuesday nights, Youth bible study on Thursday nights, Ladies bible study on Friday mornings, and Youth Group/Kids Club on Friday nights. Not to mention Sunday morning worship, which we've actually been able to attend at our home church on most Sundays in the last couple of months.

Add all that together and you've got a bit of confusion. I don't think we've missed anything yet, although I did nearly miss one of the class meetings.

What we do have are boys (and a mum) who crave a more routine schedule than this and aren't getting it. 

Weekends are all different too. This weekend we're going to Canberra to visit a supporting church and missing: youth bible study, youth group/kids club, free dress day at school, cross country training, symphonic band practise, guitar and percussion lessons, wrestling, and going to church at our home church.

These are all things our boys enjoy and aren't that happy about missing.

There is definitely a part of me that wants to curl up in a ball. I know that being part of a family is about sacrifice. It's about everyone compromising so that we can function as a group. It just sometimes feels like there's too much to manage and that the young men in our family aren't flexible enough.

So today I'm thankful that I've been able to have a quiet day at home all by myself. They all left the house at 7.15. David drove them to school for the cross-country practise on his way to lecturing and will pick most of them up on his way home. It's dove-tailed fairly nicely today, even if one of them wasn't so keen to leave.

Tomorrow we're back to bikes and praying that it doesn't rain before or after school for the next two months on Wednesdays and Thursdays! And that my people management or calendar coordinating skills don't collapse either.

What do you cook for your family when you're in Japan?

An apple crumble I made in Japan.

I've been asked this question a couple of times recently, so on a time-short day I'll point you to three posts I wrote a couple of years ago answering this question from the "field" (with photos).

So, when you're in Japan, what do you cook? 
Post #1, 
Post #2 & 
Post #3.

Japanese education system fails kids

Sometimes people ask us about how the Japanese education system compares to the Australian system. My short answer is that they are very different, the Japanese system majors in repetition, rote learning, not giving your opinion or analysing things. They don't do so much in the way of up-front presentations either. (I know, quite a negative summary, many others who have had longer and more positive associations with the system will give you a different slant.)

Another thing that they don't do is cater for children who have relatively mild learning difficulties. There are programs for children with severe developmental difficulties, but for all those who fall in the less severe categories, including ADD, ADHD, and ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder or Aspergers), Dyslexia and even just learning difficulties that don't have a label, there doesn't seem to be much.

I occasionally help out families associated with CAJ and OMF with learning difficulty questions. Last year I wrote to a developmental expert in Japan (a foreigner, but who has been there long enough to know what he's talking about). I asked him about a child who has a learning difficulty, but isn't an English speaker (he has one Japanese parent and one German-speaking parent). He's in the Japanese education system. 

I was very disappointed in his answer:

I don't know of any place in the Japanese system that can validly assess and address children's learning difficulties . . . I'm not aware of any instructional programs in Japanese which effectively remediate reading problems.

A long time ago I read that Japan claims 100% literacy rate. (Wikipedia currently says this: 99% literacy, 99.9% male and 99.7% female!) I don't know how they can claim this, when they've got a system like this that hardly caters for those struggling to learn this complicated language.

After seeing the lengths that the Australian system will go to to support kids in this category, I am sad. Sad that so many Japanese kids are missing out.

The struggle for identity

I've written before about how I struggle on how to introduce myself. Or, how do I fill out the form, say, at the doctor/physio: "Occupation?"

Usually at churches we're introduced as "The Marshalls from Japan" or "The Marshalls who serve in Japan".

When I went to the writer's conference in November, I ended up with the name tag on the right, primarily because I couldn't decide which place to write for "where are you from".

I say, when I need to, "I'm living in Ipswich/Brisbane but usually live in Japan."

There is an element of identity in this. Without context, it is hard to have much beyond a cashier-type conversation with people. It can get complicated fast if I refuse to tell people a bit more of the story. I'm a simple person: straight truth is the easiest manner of conversation. And if that means I admit that I've lived a weird life, well so be it.

The matter of identity is more complex for our kids. I can get away with saying, "I was born in Toowoomba and went to uni in Brisbane." It's only after that that things get more complicated.

My kids, however, have been labelled most of their lives with "missionary kids (or MKs)" or "from Japan". They feel strongly Australian, but when in Australia know for sure that they aren't the same as other Australian kids.

In Japan we're also labelled. No matter how long we stay there, our appearance states out front that we're not insiders. We don't belong. That's a factor of the Japanese culture, where belonging is strongly tied to "sameness" and genetics. We're not genetically Japanese, so we'll never be truly Japanese (even if we become citizens).

The labels help with communication, but sometimes they hinder. With labels comes stereotypes. 

Our labels produce questions like these in Australia:

"Oh, you like sushi?"

 "You're fluent in Japanese?"

"You must like living there!"

Or, in Japan:

"Ah, beer drinking Aussie who carries a large knife!" (Just kidding, no one has ever said that to me.)

"Why aren't you tanned, don't all Aussies swim and get brown?" (Truly, I've had this from Japanese people.)

"Of course you're a Christian, you come from Australia where everyone is Christians."

People, even Christians, often feel uncomfortable at the label "missionary", which is why I often avoid using it first up. Just the other day I wrote "editor" on the form at the physio. I later told her I was a missionary, but it wasn't at the start of our conversation. 

So I can totally understand this young man's reluctance to be introduced as "an MK from Japan." By all means find that out, but start with finding out about me, not my label.

Many people have this struggle, people with disabilities, for example, or even people who are extraordinarily beautiful, talented, or famous. There is a barrier to getting to know the real person and most people don't get past the barrier.

If you go to the link above (this young man), you'll find some great suggestions for non-MKs, including this:

On Behalf of all MKs everywhere, please, treat us like normal people. True, we may be strange, socially-awkward, and not have the best fashion sense but all we want is to have a fair chance to be your friend. The reason we are weird is because our life is weird. 

Green view

The view I get every morning from my bed.

One of the joys of this season in Australia has been green space.

Our suburb here is spacious. Blocks are large and there's lots of garden. Just the joy of green grass lining the road is not to be taken for granted.

The view from the bedroom we use at my parent's house
(my old bedroom).

A special time of the morning has been the view from my bed in the morning. David and I read the Bible and pray in our bedroom before breakfast. I open the curtains and drink in the view as we connect with our heavenly Father. Admittedly there are better views in the world, but it's good enough for me. 

In Tokyo, if I look at the right angle and in the right direction I can see sky from my bed. Often it is grey, but sometimes blue. This Australian view is much nicer and is feeding my soul, refreshing me before we return to the realities of Tokyo.