Rowboat, sentences, and driver's licence

This has been an interesting week, and not as quiet as my written schedule might lead you to believe. I think I'd been settling just a little into a "quieter" life. Time to read, to go a bit slower than usual. But this week has been a little different. For starters, I've picked up my editing pen again. OMF Australia has given me a spot as a guest editor for one of their publications. It's been good to brush up those skills a little.

A local park, a place that's helping
us stay a bit grounded here.

I wrote our monthly prayer letter on Monday and sent it Tuesday. A pretty usual end-of-month activity, but one that always involves a little reflecting on the month gone and looking at what the month ahead holds. It definitely showed that October was considerably quieter than the several months that had gone before it, and I guess that has shown up in my musings on this blog.

Over the last few weeks, on quieter days, I've been trying to invest more in reading about writing, as well as taking up a few small opportunities to write. I've spent many Tuesdays mornings at our local library writing. I haven't had a huge output or a big project that I'm working on, but just setting aside time on a set day to write in a different environment has been helpful. 

This week I finished a book about sentences: First you write a sentence by Joe Moran. It wasn't the easiest book to read, but that kind of helped it to feel like I was doing "work" i.e. professional development, not just reading for pleasure! Here's one helpful quote:

‘It’s necessary to write as if your sentences will be orphaned, because they will be.’ (Evelyn Kinkenborg)…Once our sentences are written and sent out into the world to be read, they are on their own. Most of us cling to a residual belief that we will still be there, hovering over the reader as she reads, to explain, when she stumbles over our words, what we really meant. We won’t…Writing a sentence is …hard because you have to arrange them in such a way that they can be deciphered in your absence” (p. 24–25 First you write a sentence, Joe Moran, 2018).

Later he qualified that statement about orphans by saying that sentences really need to be read in context, that "the sentence you are reading needs the already read and still unread sentences around it" (p. 161).

Another gem from the book: "Reading a sentence should never be a grim duty. . . Most paragraphs are longer than they need to be, likewise most chapters. Most books go on for fifty pages longer than they should. We forget all this because it is less effort to speak than to listen . .  at some point, sooner than we think, we should stop. no one is ever as interested as we are in what we have to say. They need to eat, or catch a train, or go to bed because they have work in the morning. The courteous actor says his lines and leaves the stage with no encore." (p.199)

Unfortunately the author didn't really take his own advice. This book could have been considerably shorter! What kept me reading, though, was the gems like I've quoted. One of the reviewers on Goodreads said "About 96% twaddle. Which is annoying because the 4% has some really good ideas and observations." Ironically, a good developmental editor would have been a big help!

Aside from reading interesting books, and writing and editing, we've been walking alongside our sons as they continue to settle into life in Australia. This week that's meant:

• helping our middle son finally get his learners licence again (he had a Japanese learners, but that journey was interrupted by a seizure nearly two years ago)
• helping facilitate communication to allow our sons and one other missionary kid to apply to take over a lease from four other young men (two of whom at least are missionary kids themselves) 

Both the above are part of long complex journeys, and it was satisfying to complete a clear step in each one this week. Two more tangible steps towards our twin goals of them living independently as adults and us returning on our own to Japan to continue work there.

A strange thing, but I also did two things that I've been postponing. I bought three new t-shirts (as we approached downsizing and moving to Australia, I pretty much stopped buying anything that wasn't consumable or an immediate desperate need, so it's been a long time since I bought a t-shirt). I also made an appointment with a physio for a problem that's been bothering me for many months (years?). These seem like small things, but they felt big, like I was settled enough to do them?

We've also had car trouble, which has meant the first driving lesson got cut short yesterday. And more money will be paid than we want to. The car is at the mechanic and we've had to borrow a car this weekend to fulfil our ministry commitments.

This week we also started talking to our families about Christmas plans . . . this is something we only do a couple of times a decade! And noted that it's getting gradually more complex as our kids get older. Our families live a whole day's drive apart, so it is always a bit complicated to factor in everyone's needs, desires, plus the sheer practicalities of travel. On top of that we have other people (long-term friends and supporters) wondering if they can catch up with us during the Christmas holidays (roughly Dec–Jan), but we can't set dates until we've settled on dates with our families. 

Yesterday evening I felt like I was a little row boat that had had a number of ripples pass underneath me: unsettled and rocked, not by any one thing, but by the various life things going on, some of which I've mentioned above. When this happens I can be quite harsh on myself, wondering where my faith in God my rock is. After all this is what King David wrote:

Yes, my soul, find rest in God;
    my hope comes from him.
6 Truly he is my rock and my salvation;
    he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.
7 My salvation and my honour depend on God;
    he is my mighty rock, my refuge.
8 Trust in him at all times, you people;
    pour out your hearts to him,
    for God is our refuge. (Ps. 62:5–8)

I will not be shaken? I'm not sure exactly of the meaning here. I know that houses in Japan are built so that they can be shaken by an earthquake, but still remain standing and undamaged. Perhaps that's it?

So, a rowboat, sentences, and a driver's licence, and a myriad of other things that have made up this week, including a really hot, but dry day of around 37C, and a much cooler, yet more humid day today (around 26C). Tomorrow we put on our "missionary" hats again and, all things going well, we will present at an OMF meeting and then have lunch with friends from uni days.