Your help needed to celebrate 10 years

It was with a bit of a shock that I realised a couple of weeks ago that it is ten years on Saturday since I started this blog! This is the 2,951st post that I've published! And I'm certain that I'm the only one who has read them all :-)

I was pondering what I should do to mark this event and a friend suggested that I ask for your input. Even if you've only been here a little while or only stop by occasionally, could you write to me at the gmail email address in the sidebar with a memorable post or favourite memory from my blog, or perhaps an overall impression? Tell me how God has used this blog to help you, encourage you, or challenge you. I'll write a post on Saturday with your responses and a few of my own thoughts on this blogging journey and what I've learned through it.

I'm looking forward to hearing from you.

Adventures in editing

My job is full of variety. "Editing" sounds pretty dull. I imagine for most people it evokes bad memories of grammar nazi English teachers and receiving essays back with red marks all over them.

Well, yes, I do do that sort of thing (although much less confrontational than an English teacher giving you a bad mark). Although I have to say that dealing with the nitty-gritty side of the business is not my favourite part. I don't think I could do book editing as a full-time job. My role as a magazine managing editor and social media/website content editor provides a lot more variety than just dealing with words, punctuation, and grammar.

On Monday I went to the annual business meeting of the organisation who publishes Japan Harvest magazine: Japan Evangelical Missionary Association (JEMA), I wrote a bit about them here last year). Business meetings are another thing that I tend to avoid where I can. But this one is a great opportunity to network with mission leaders who I don't get to see face to face at any other time of the year as well as to get a feel for what's going on in this part of the evangelical missionary world in Japan, as various ministries and "commissions" of JEMA get to present a short report.

I usually just attend, but this year I pushed it slightly further. In the reception/refreshments area there were tables available for people who wished to put up a display about their ministry or services etc. I decided to put together a small display about the magazine. 

Rather than just do this on my own I put the idea to the magazine team. It took a while for good ideas to gel, but I've got a creative team. We weren't trying to sell the magazine—this was the choir—all members of JEMA get a copy of the magazine. Though it would have been good to get people brainstorming or volunteering to write for the magazine—we rely on members of JEMA to write our articles—it simply wasn't the right place for that. Conversations were short and often interrupted. People were in a networking frame of mind and time is always short.

This is what we came up with (after 67 comments on my request for ideas in our secret Japan Harvest team Facebook group):

I know it's a bit small for you to read. On the left are four encouraging quotes from readers about our magazine. In the middle there's a guessing competition: Can you guess how many hours goes into putting together one 40-page magazine each time (including the writing of articles)? On the right is an encouragement to check out our articles that are also published online at japanharvest.org. On the table at the far right are Stick-it notes with a suggestion that people could write encouraging notes to the magazine team (all are volunteers).

Our designer made this poster of the team. I love it and after the annual meetings, it's going up in the JEMA admin office.

So, in addition to dealing with lots of words, I also get to work with people—something I couldn't do without. Pictured above is an eclectic team situated in three different countries, who are passionate, not just about the mission of the magazine, but about doing an excellent job.

Another reason I attend this meeting is it's such an encouragement. I had several people tell me how much they appreciate the magazine and what I do. I even, for the first time, had someone tell me how much they appreciate the column that I've been writing on writing. I've been doing this for six years now = 24 articles. It's great to hear that someone especially appreciates it.

We got several encouragements written on the Post-it notes:

"In the past two years, I have really enjoyed the very relevant, practical themes of each issue of the Japan Harvest. Thank you for the many hours put into planning and printing it."

"Thank you very much for a great ministry tool. I have learned so much over the years. 

God Bless."

"Thank you for all the work to produce The Harvest! May it help produce THE HARVEST!"

"Thank you all for your excellent work. I like especially all the culture-related topics and the fresh ideas on how to do missions. You are awesome!"

It's wonderful to know that what we spend many hours doing is actually making an impact and being of help to people.

Oh, and you're wondering about the answer to how many hours it takes to put out this quarterly magazine? My team's best guess was between 850 and 1050 hours (this includes the time taken for writing articles). It's really hard to know, and there are so many variables. But, still, that's a lot of hours! I'm so glad I've got a great team to work with. There's no way I could do this without them and I'm so glad to have this opportunity to work with them in this uncommon ministry.

English encounters in Tokyo

It's been too long since I've been here. I've had several people-intense days and no time or energy for writing. But today the writing "force" is strong and hard to resist. I know when I've been away too long when I can't decide on one single thing to write about...there's a lot buzzing around in my head.

But I'm already running out of time to get traction on my large to-do list, so here's a small offering.

Yesterday I had to print a A3-sized poster. The place to do that here is at a convenience store. It's been many years since I done this, but with no good reason to chicken out, I forged ahead, not knowing how this would go. (I have a dislike of using such machines in Japan, because it's so easy to make a mistake when you're language isn't super.) After all the worst that could happen would be that I'd have to swallow my pride and ask for help!

It turned out that I didn't need help at all. Good thing I speak "American English" though (wink). This was the touch screen that greeted me when I hit the "Language" button. Quite an impressive array of choices.

In English I had no problem negotiating my way through the screens. Then I got some entertainment (sorry for the poor photos, Japanese shops are seriously over-lit!). This screen appeared while I was waiting for my printout. There were three of these that rotated through while I waited. So cute, so Japanese!

I have to note that this machine was located in a convenience store within a stone's thrown of several universities and I suspect there are more foreigners frequenting this area of Tokyo than in many places in Japan. So I can't say that this would be so easy a task in a more rural area! But I am grateful whenever I find English in this country, especially good English.

I had no trouble sorting my rubbish at a local supermarket today. There are certain things that you can put in recycle bins at some supermarkets, but can't "recycle" them from home, that includes milk and juice cartons and polystyrene trays. We usually save them up and I take them every few weeks or so. But I was a little amused by the English on this poster. It seems that the synonyms "trash" and "garbage" have been allocated different meanings. "Garbage" meaning "food rubbish" and "trash" meaning "things that aren't supposed to go in this bin". Very subtle difference!

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.

Was it worth it?

We've had a pretty calm, "normal" week and have started to have the head space to look back and process the last few months. It's easy to look back with regret. 

Home assignment is required by our mission, though how and when you do it is a negotiable thing. So we look at the last six months and start to think: "Did we do the right thing? Did we make the right choices?"

The fact is that there is no good way to do home assignment. It means a lot of disruption in the missionaries' lives. When those missionaries have children at school, that disruption is bigger. If they are teenagers, the disruption escalates to a high level. If those children are settled and the missionaries are established in good-fit ministries, then it seems so unnecessary to volunteer for this amount of disruption.

The other side, though, is that our mission relies on missionaries coming "home" to give a field-side perspective to their mobilisation efforts. People at churches we visit repeatedly say how good it is to see us face-to-face and that that makes a big difference for them.

So, at this point you ask: was it worth the effort? I can't answer that question, though I know we've paid a significant cost as a family to do this home assignment. I also know that there are a few benefits we gained. Here are some tangible ones:

• we went through a crisis in late November that made us, and various related parties, look carefully at our calling to Japan—the result of that was great confirmation that we are indeed in the right place doing the things God has called us to
• home assignment triggered us to get some help for one family member who had been struggling for some time
• we were able to see our extended family members face-to-face and get a feel for how things were going for them: the benefit of that on relationships with them is immeasurable, but definitely not negative
• we also reconnected more deeply with our home church and as a result see the start of changes there with regards to involvement in mission
• I was able to address a slow-burning issue with a psychologist and find remarkable answers that will help me stay this journey long-term
• we got to spend time with our eldest son and witness first hand that his transition to Australia has gone remarkably well (and got to help him on the way to a drivers licence)

There are a variety of benefits that are more difficult to discern, including how this will affect our younger two boys' abilities to transition to Australia after they graduate from high school.

But one, very tangible, result, was a realisation that we can do regular dates now. Many Fridays we dropped our son off to youth group and then went to a local restaurant (and played Scrabble). Our boys are quite old enough to manage a meal on their own (often left-overs). Last night we had our first date-for-no-special-occasion in Japan. I can't remember the last time we did such a thing, and it was great, especially being able to indulge in a spontaneity that has just not been possible for nearly 20 years! We have home assignment to thank for this. Possibly not something our mission leaders had in mind, but I'll take it.

A coffee-flavoured cake called an Opera Cake!

My decaf coffee (8pm at night) came with this dollhouse-sized jug of cream!

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.

Foil gift

An important value in Japan is to not inconvenience other people (or, another way to say that is: not annoying other people, as I wrote about in a post three years ago). 

As a foreigner, it is not always easy to figure out when you might inconvenience other people and we're still learning. But in a city where space is at a premium, where you put yourself, your children, and your belongings is a serious issue.

But when it comes to doing construction work on your house, you're heading into a land of much inconvenience to others. So we find that construction workers are generally very considerate about things like their vehicles blocking the narrow roads. However, to ward off any potential bad feelings, prior to doing construction it seems that they do an obligatory run around the neighbours to give an apologetic notice accompanied by a gift.

Last year we got a towel from the neighbours behind us. And we got another towel six years ago when a neighbour's fence was being fixed.

This time we got 20m of foil.

A house on our street, about 30 m from ours, has been demolished. It looks like they are going to be building again very soon. The block of land is bordered by two roads, neither of which is very wide. They aren't main roads, but they do get a reasonable amount of traffic on roads that are only about 5m wide. We've caused minor traffic jams by someone stopping near there to pick us up by car. 

Blue rectangle: our house
Red star: the construction site
Green arrow: entrance to kindergarten
Orange arrows: roads

I'll have to write another blog post to explain why there's
white paper suspended from string in the middle of the block!

Obviously, large construction vehicles are going to potentially cause traffic congestion and inconvenience to pedestrians, especially because across the road is a large kindergarten where most kids arrive by bus and on foot. They have a car park, but it is down the street about 50m. 

So, we've received a letter of apology in advance and some foil! I presume the kindergarten and all our neighbours received something similar in the name of keeping neighbourly relationships smooth.