24 February, 2023

Telling stories and being heard

I've had more time to write this week than I've had for some time. It's been lovely. One of the things I've been writing is my regular column about writing for the upcoming Japan Harvest magazine. But the topic is convicting: stories. I'm passionate about telling true stories, but, like many people who write non-fiction, I often fail to use them. Stories often aren't as direct and take up more space. It also takes attention to notice some stories. Others, like my hair-braiding story, told here just are begging to be shared.

So, I feel compelled to write a blog post this afternoon, but am struggling to find a story to share with you, because as an editor so much of the time I'm working with other people's stories and not having experiences that can be told...but it's good to struggle sometimes. Here are some stories from the last couple of weeks that I hope you find encouraging:

Talent Show

On Tuesday evening we went to the school's Senior Talent Show. This has been a tradition for many years, but of course this tradition has been interrupted in the last couple of years. It's a fundraiser put on by the senior class in preparation for their overseas ministry trip in March. It is usually a mixture of fun and serious acts, but there are also a reasonable number of acts that just make the parents and teachers feel old because they are based around current pop culture that we're not familiar with. 

I did enjoy most of the evening, but it did go on a little too long (2 hr 40 min). Or perhaps I'm just getting old and unused to going out in the evening? I have to admit to still feeling a little exhausted by large groups of people.

It was fun to have one extra senior staying at our house that evening because he lives far away, and to chat with our son and his friend the next morning . . . but they're tired. I keep reminding myself that I was the same way at the same age and that it's just for a limited time. This will be all over in less than four months!

The importance of people-focus

Twice in the last few days I've had unexpected conversations with team members. Members of teams I manage. The teams I work with are quite task-focused—we're teams with specific outcome objectives: publishing a magazine and social media posts (for the purpose of mobilising for mission in Japan). So, I'm not sure I do a great job at caring for the people in my teams because I spend a lot of my time taking care of many tasks with deadlines. I often measure how I'm going in my job with how many tasks I've been able to tick off my list. Because both teams work remotely, I often go weeks without talking to any team members directly. We communicate a lot via text, email, and other online tools. 

So, spontaneous opportunities this week to connect (via video calls) with two team members who are struggling in different ways was unusual, but also good. 

I also led an online prayer meeting with about half the magazine team and it was good to not just pray for magazine matters, but to pray for one another and the things that are on our hearts and minds also. I felt heard and I hope they felt heard too.

Being heard

Last week I had another online prayer meeting with some expat mums in (or with a recent connection to) Japan who have kids with special needs—various needs, various ages. I'm new to their group, but I already had met most of the mums in other contexts. I'm starting to feel like these are "my people", and I find myself telling them things that few other people know. 

Recently I've found that what we've dealt with as parents over the last few years in terms of mental health and neurodiversity has meant I've found it harder to connect closely with many people. There is an experiential gap, one that's hard to define. People who don't have an experience with such parenting challenges can find it hard to understand, or simply don't want to, and I feel constrained in what I feel I can share with them. I wrote a bit about this with a great deal of emotion, back in October. There is great power in feeling like you're understood, and that people want to hear about what you're deeply struggling with. I'm so thankful I was "found" by one of these ladies last year and welcomed into their midst.

It's hard to literally see hills from our location
in Tokyo (Mt Fuji is visible from certain 
points, but not our house). This is a view
of mountains from a wrestling venue back
in December, a place I'll be returning to
next month for a Track and Field meet.

I lift my eyes to the hills

At the magazine prayer meeting I'd decided to help us focus by listening to a song based on Psalm 121, which starts, "I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth"

Most of the team, it turns out, are labouring under some heavy burdens, so this was indeed God going before and leading me to use this psalm and song in our time together. Maybe this song will help you as you struggle with something today too: Psalm 121 (I Lift My Eyes) Lyric Video • Kristyn Getty • Jordan Kauflin • Matt Merker

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