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.