Building a bedrock

I read a book a couple of months ago called Looking for God by Nancy Ortberg. I rediscovered it when I was trawling through old blog posts at the writing retreat in May, and decided it warranted a second read. Thankfully it's still in the school library, so I asked my husband to borrow it for me. 

It's definitely not a hard read, but it has some profound stuff in it. One chapter I read, while I was sipping my mid-afternoon coffee, is called "Longings, aches, and pains." The author writes about how we grow in our faith when we lean into the things that are difficult. Choosing, as a Christian to face hard things, to pay attention to them, leads us to God and to discover a greater depth to God's grace and forgiveness and love. To discover that God is a "strong place" who can cope with us when life feels overwhelming.

I have told a few people about a time, late in 2021, when I was angry at God for a short while. I was angry because he allowed one of my sons to have a sudden medical incident that had a significant impact on his life (and ours) in the coming years. In my opinion, the timing was bad. If the incident had happened just three weeks later, the impact would have been significantly less! What has been interesting is seeing people's reactions to my admitting that I was angry at God. It's not something that a "good Christian" readily admits in nice company. I've definitely shocked people by admitting this.

It's not that my faith in God was rocked. I knew he was entirely able to dictate the timing, it was completely within his control, and it didn't make sense to me. But, there're plenty of things that have happened in my life that haven't made sense and I've learned to run to God with my pain and trust him with it rather than trust my understanding. I've learned that he is much bigger than my pain and my anger and able to deal with all that. God's love and care for me is unshakable.

Living a life cross-culturally has meant we're frequently uncomfortable. It's a life that brings on more metaphorical aches and pains than we may have encountered if we'd stayed comfortably ensconced in our home country. It's been harder to sweep these away and ignore them, so I guess you could say we've been forced to go to God more often and with more need than we might otherwise have had. And in doing so we've, in the words of Nancy Ortberg, "slowly buil(t) [a] solid bedrock of God in our souls" and God has begun "building a strong core in our centres, a core made up entirely of Him." (p156, 158)

People sometimes put missionaries up on a pedestal as amazing people. But I think that the truth is probably more that our weaknesses in the face of various difficult things have driven us to God and so that he has built this strong core inside us that is shining forth. It's God, not us, that should be praised. Paul writes about this in 2 Corinthians 4:7: "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us."

Nancy Ortberg writes: 

Every longing is an echo, an ache for the perfection that we were created in the image of. If we pay attention to the pain, struggle with it and live in it, we grow. We know God more deeply. He is more real to us and intersects our lives. We understand how we can apply the love God and the power of the Cross to our lives. (p. 154)

My prayer now is that every time I encounter pain and struggles and longings, I will be able to pay attention to them, instead of trying to drown them out or make decisions that mean I'm running away from the pain. And, through living with those things, will allow God to do his work in me, to grow me and through all of this I will come to know God more deeply. It's hard, but worthwhile.

Reflecting on our five weeks in Australia

We're back in Japan. Last night David and I went walking on one of our usual routes—it was great to start getting back into routine. While I get excited about things like retreats and conferences, meeting up with people, and travel, I function better when I have general structure around my life and am settled at home. As we walked and talked, we saw how busy and non-routine the previous weeks had been. Strangely, the longer we stayed in Australia the more chaotic things became!

In the last five weeks we've:

• spent time over multiple meals with 17 family members, not all at once, but did enjoy dinner with 13 members of my family last Friday night,
• had dinner most nights with our hosts (we stayed in four different houses),
• met around half a dozen friends for meals or coffee or walks,
• done medical and optometry stuff,

• 

  You don't know how amazing Australian skies
  are until you have lived outside Australia.

  spoke at an OMF event for people thinking seriously about mission,
• attended an OMF half-day conference in our home state,
• worked remotely (part-time) on things pertaining to our work in Japan (computer work and online meetings),
• spent time at both our home church (in Redbank Plains) and at our son's church, and
• met six dogs and two cats!

I think that's most of it...

One of the dogs we met

But the main reason we went to Australia was to spend time with our two younger sons, who only moved out last year. We had meals with them, watched footy, played video games, made (and ate) cheesecake, went to the movies, (David) took our youngest to a driving test (and he passed!), and even drove a couple of hours to an open evening at a conference one of our sons was attending (university Christian group). Without our own home we had to get a little bit creative at times, but I think it worked and was worth it.

The cheesecake I made with our 
youngest, and we all ate! It's a
family tradition.

The icing on the cake was that our eldest son and his wife were able to fly down from Townsville for our last week (they also were attending a wedding down there). We spent a few days with them at my parents' house. Finally, on our last afternoon in Australia, we got all four "kids" together (believe me, it was quite an effort!). We hung out, ate pizza, and said our farewells. Then the two "locals" (i.e. the ones who live in Brisbane and Ipswich) drove the two couples to where we were each staying the night.

It was a great month and we really appreciated all who went out of their way to host us or feed us or simply talk with us.

In the light of the "changing identity" blog post that I last wrote, I would definitely say life is changing, has changed. And this quite different "holiday" was very much proof of that. 

Back in hot, steamy Tokyo

Now we're trying to get our heads settled back in to Japan, to the work that God still has for us here. Even though some of our hearts have been left back in Australia, that has always been the case, ever since we first came in 2000. So it's not too much different, except that our kids are now living their own lives, instead of being entwined with ours on a daily basis.

Identity: shifting and changing

It's been a great joy to be able to come back to Australia this month and interact with our kids in a different way, to start laying different memories and also to see them coping with day-to-day life as independent adults (one of the long-term goals, in the end, of parenting). Next week we'll also spend a few days with our eldest son and his wife, and we're really looking forward to that too.

Throw back to me in Singapore:
discovering I could do
tourism in a foreign country
on my own.

On Sunday I was talking to someone about these last 12 months and realised that kids leaving home is part of an ever changing journey with our identity. My friend has been a grandma almost as long as I've been a mum and related a story from just the previous week about her journey as a grandma. Her youngest grandchild is 10 and my friend realised that this young lady doesn't need her grandma in the same way as she used to, this realisation made her sad. Her role is changing again. 

My role is changing too, the years of having kids under my roof all the time has gone and it's been time to think again about who am I in this new season.

Change in roles is disorientating. Change of a role as intimate and lengthy as a mother is potentially even more so. I am not only my children's mother, but being a mum 24/7 for so many years (nearly half my life) means that my identity has somewhat become entwined with my kids. I expect that that's similar for anyone who cares for someone long-term. 

Last year I was talking with a single lady in her 60s and blurted out something like, "It's not as if I wasn't a person before I had kids." She thought that was a preposterous statement, but was kind enough not to point out who I was talking to (a non-person, if having kids makes you a person!). But sometimes it does feel that way, because that's how intertwined in your children's lives you become while raising them, even when the relationship is fairly healthy.

While pondering this topic I found this interesting article called "When caring changes or ends". It covers things like the feelings you might have at such a juncture, also reflecting, adjusting to new routines, and being gentle with yourself. Helpful stuff, even if it isn't especially about kids leaving home!

I really didn't expect to still be adjusting to this, more than a year after our children left home, but it seems I am. It's a new season, but not as simple as just turning a page into a new chapter, the stuff that's gone before is not forgotten.

Eight years ago, a year before my first born left home, I wrote this in a blog post:

For a time you may feel as though you've lost touch with who you were. But in the end you'll discover that actually, your old self is being changed into something new. If you're a Christian you can be sure that God will use this experience to make you more like him, if you're willing. (from here)

It's a good reminder that it's just another segment of our journey, I've gone through many changes thus far in my life that have changed me, and there are more to come. I've been changed by the journey and I can embrace that.

Seizing the moments this month in Queensland

It's nine days since I last wrote here and I'm definitely feeling more settled and am a little less "discombobulated". Yesterday I cooked two different meals in our friends' kitchen (successfully and without undue stress), I feel like that proves the point!

We've also been trying to keep up with
regular walking. This part of Queensland
has some beautiful spots to walk.

Normal for July is that I'm balancing my online work with the Japan Harvest magazine and our organisation's social media with David being on "summer" holidays. What's not usual is that we're also spending time with people we don't normally see: the friends we're staying with, family, church family, and other friends. It's all very good and worthwhile, but also challenging to get a good balance. I suspect we'll be a little weary when we get back to Japan.

One interesting thing I've noticed is that the time frame that we're here for (5 weeks) means that people who really want to see us are more motivated to make the time, and we're more likely to seize the moment and go for it. Six months or twelve months provides a lot of time to get a better balance (and more rest) but less urgency to get things done. 

Our main purpose of being here is to spend time with our kids, and you can see below that we've been very intentional about that.

Here are some of the things we've done in the last 10 days:

• Had a "State of Origin" party (high profile rugby league game between our state and another) at our youngest son's house with his brother.
• Met my parents for lunch.
• Met different long-term friends on three occasions for lunch or coffee.
• Wendy went to an afternoon tea fun gathering with other women from our home church.
• David’s gone to a couple of men’s coffee mornings.
• A couple of routine medical/optometry visits.
• Drove to 75 km to the north of Brisbane for an open night at a camp that our youngest son is at with Christians from his uni (and another local uni).
• Went to a movie with our middle son and had lunch at his place another day.
• David went to another movie with our hosts and youngest son.
• Most nights we've had dinner with our hosts.

I've been trying to keep up with general work that comes across my desk. Thankfully it's not been too heavy a work-flow this month, but I'm aware that I'm pretty distracted by all of the above. Along with that I've had some online work meetings about magazine and social media matters.

Someone asked me the other day how often we come to Australia, and I had to say that there is no usual now, it's actually in flux as we figure out this new chapter in our lives. But as we go about life here this month, we're thinking about the middle of next year. Our organisation has a key value of ensuring missionaries spend time in their "home" countries. There are five purposes for that:

1. Reporting to churches concerning the ministry/work.

2. Participation in the mobilisation work of the OMF Homeside.

3. Rest and renewal.

4. Reunion with family, friends, and supporting churches.

5. Re-equipping for a more effective ministry.

There used to be a pattern of around four years of service "on the field" and one year in your "sending country" the latter year being called "home assignment". This has been changing in the 25 years we've been working in Japan. Now, for various reasons, it's less common to do one year home assignments and thankfully our organisation is flexing to accommodate. And we're re-evaluating our own plans in the light of our new season without children at home anymore. 

This time next year we're planning to do a short home assignment, probably June and July. There are many reasons for this, which I won't bore you with. But we're hoping it will be a viable ongoing option for the future because the whole upheaval that goes with moving to Australia for six months to a year is a lot. We've done it five times now and are fairly reluctant to do it again, though we know the value of the above points!

We've got two and a half more weeks before we fly back to Japan now and it's probably going to fly by fast with more of the types of social engagements you see above. We're trying to seize the moment and be as present as we can as we spend time with precious people we would not otherwise see.

We're grateful for international travel, even though it's discombobulating

Massive leaves in Singapore

It's been two weeks since I last wrote here, but it feels like a lot longer because of all the things that I've done in that time. July will also be a strange month, but I don't think it will be as hectic...for starters, we have no plane tickets booked for the month!

But we're glad to be in Australia for a bit now (till early August). We've already enjoyed spending in-person time with our younger two sons, with some close friends, and with our home church. We're not here because of any particular crisis or event, but rather, because we've "showed up" because we can. David's got a long summer break, and I work from home so I can be mobile. So we've seized the opportunity to be in Australia this month.

Singapore: tall buildings

Since I last wrote, we've had adventures in multiple airports and three countries, so it's hard to know what to write about all that. We've enjoyed the people we met and opportunities we've had. It's been several years since I've had the chance to go to other countries (other than Australia) and meet with colleagues serving in other places, so that was a good opportunity.

In Singapore we had a couple of days rest before coming back to Australia. We tried to do a bit of tourist stuff, but had failed to plan ahead and purchase a SIM card that would give us local rates, so it was challenging trying to get around. But we did get to see a bit, and got our heads around their trains (if not their buses). David had a cold—which I also got, but not until after we got to Australia—so that clipped our wings a little.

View from our hotel room in Singapore

One of the many stunning flowers 
in Singapore's botanical gardens:
the Showy medinilla or Rose grape.

Butterfly orchid

In some ways we feel at home in both Japan and Australia and south-east Asia isn't as strange to us as it was in the mid-90s when we both encountered it for the first time. Additionally, this visit to Australia hasn't been preceded by months of packing up and saying goodbyes, but it's still come with it's own "transition" stress. 

Last week we were very tired, yet still trying to "do stuff" like medical and optical appointments, and seeing our kids. And making mistakes. The biggest one was me determining, last Wednesday, that we could get together with our two younger sons to watch a locally famous footy match at one of their houses. Except I got the date wrong! The match isn't happening until tomorrow night...but no one questioned my wisdom (I had most of the details right and apparently am usually pretty reliable on facts). It wasn't until just before the usual starting time of the match that someone messaged to say I'd gotten the date wrong! Nonetheless it was a "happy mistake" and we enjoyed hanging out together for several hours—a new thing as we figure out how to visit our adult sons.

Moon orchid!

A good measure of how settled I am is my ability to manage menu planning and grocery shopping. As we're staying with friends, I'm not in charge of very much, but have planned to make or contribute to several meals or events in the coming days and today went shopping for some of that. It was messy, not at all efficient. The grocery store was my local for the year we last lived here and wasn't too overwhelming, but getting my head around planning has been a bit more challenging than I'd like to admit. Especially when you consider that I'm supposed to be back at work (working remotely this month), making various responsible editing and writing decisions!

This week, in addition to catching up on work that I haven't been able to attend to in the last fortnight, we have various appointments and times to catch up with family and a few others. We're enjoying this opportunity to spend the month here and looking forward to what else it brings.

Our pizza party (fake State of Origin party)

Loving Australia's gum trees and soft
end-of-winter-day light.

Confirmed: it's an unusual month

Our room. Traditional Japanese hotel room.

Yep, I'm coming to terms with the fact that this is indeed an unusual month. I wrote about our plans at the start of the month here. I'm starting to regret the complexity of our travel, merely due to the number of times I've had to explain our plans for this "summer" to people!

Chocolate fountain at the dinner buffet
each night (sometimes white).

Last week was field conference for five days in Hokkaido. As expected, it was busy and tiring. We were interacting with people most days from 7.30 am to 9 pm, and in a pretty loud environment. It was good, though, to get together with our OMF Japan family. We have many great conversations and interactions. We met many new people and caught up with "old" friends. And I managed to do the piano playing without any major mishap!

At conference, we were part of a small ceremony that recognised our 25 years of service in Japan (actual anniversary is in November). I was reluctant to agree to this because it is only by God's grace that we're still here and the glory (and congratulations) really all belongs to him, not us. We're acutely aware that so many have not been able to stay this long through no fault or lack of willingness of their own. However, it was pointed out to me that it's something of a partnership and that we had to say (and continue) to say yes to God's call in order to stay. But all that aside, it actually resulted in a bunch of interesting conversations with people for the rest of the week!

The conference hotel at dusk. The large windows
lower down on left are the huge dining
room (maybe capacity of 800 or more).

We got home to our own beds on Friday night and on Saturday we did little, just recovering, which was a good thing because Sunday was full of people again and by the end of that I was flagging.

David left for training in northern Thailand on Monday morning and I've been alone ever since. It's weird, actually. Tomorrow I'm flying to Singapore, for a meeting on Thursday and to meet David there on Friday before we fly to Australia on Monday (30th). What's weird is that I'm not used to having no one around while I prepare for an overseas trip, nor being on my own to close up our house for several weeks over summer. I've struggled a little not to overthink things. 

Pancake machine every breakfast.

Packing for a trip like this always makes me nervous...but we're going to Australia, so if I forget something key like underwear then I can at least buy more there (no, just checked, that's packed, but I have forgotten that once before on an overseas trip). But, as always, packing for a different season is challenging: Singapore isn't going to be much different to here (hot and humid), but Brisbane is in winter (19C max and 10C min on Monday).

I think this is the first time I've been on an overseas trip (i.e. not Japan or Australia) something that isn't organised by someone else, like a course or a sporting event. This time I initiated the meeting I have on Thursday and the weekend there is just us catching our breath before we fly to see our kids in Australia.

A lit walkway near the hotel.

Thankfully I've been sleeping well (apart from the night before conference). I hope that trend will continue!

So, my next blog post will either be from Singapore or Australia...we'll see!

Another unexpectedly unusual week

It's Friday and I have to say that this has been an odd week. Looking ahead to June last week, I didn't clock this week as being especially unusual, but it has ended up that way. Here's a few bits and pieces:

Music practice

As I mentioned last week, I'm playing the piano for worship at church this Sunday and also at conference next Friday. Hence, practise was needed. On Tuesday I took three trains across Tokyo to meet with others from our mission to practice for an hour...and then took three back again. Three hours of travel! Because it is such a distance, I usually try to combine such a journey with at least one other thing. This time I managed to snag a friend/colleague for lunch. Precious quiet moments in a tiny Tokyo cafe.

Piano: I've been playing since I was 
four...it's like another "first language".

I also spent an hour and a half practising at school yesterday (the easiest piano for me to access). David found a practise room and I had a great time. It took me back many years to my childhood and teenage years when I spent at least an hour a day practising and three hours a week at my teacher's studio, many times playing the piano in one of her two practice rooms. As I've eased back into playing these last few weeks, I've realised that playing the piano (and reading music) is like a first language to me. I still find it very easy to sight read (i.e. play from written notes without first hearing a piece)...much easier than trying to play chords (what guitarists use). And to extend the metaphor...much easier than trying to operate in Japanese.

Being stretched

This week I've had few stretching experiences.

On Wednesday I took seven trains (after six the day before). My day only contained two main things: I took three trains to met a colleague from one of my teams for a catch-up about work and how he's doing. Then I caught another three trains to meet another colleague who is moving back to Australia. She's newer in Japan and needed a hand with driving a larger vehicle to shift some of her furniture to another new family who live about 45 minutes away. My job was driving! Usually it's David who does things like this, but he wasn't available when they were, so I volunteered. The vehicle was a HiAce, a little bigger than our 8-seater vans that we've owned most of our years in Tokyo. But I managed. Between us we also managed to hire it from a Japanese company. This is no small thing when you struggle with Japanese . . . it wasn't pretty, but we did it. And I didn't damage the vehicle in any way, so that was a relief! 

The van we hired to do the moving. 

When we were done, I took one more train to get home. In contrast to the day before I never left western Tokyo, just took a big train circuit, and never more than about 15 km from our house.

Then yesterday I had my annual Japanese medical. It's pretty much funded by the government. It was not very comprehensive, but they did a urine and took some blood and asked me if I had any concerns. The doctor, nurse, and I danced around in two languages, but, I think managed the basics. I really struggle with starving blood test. Breakfast is mandatory for me to have decent brain function and going without my mid-morning coffee is a double blow to my capacity. Then, having to speak Japanese on top of that . . . it's definitely not pretty. I haven't yet managed to explain to a medical professional how difficult I find it to function in my (very second) language without breakfast or coffee.

My big mistake, yesterday, however, was trying to be efficient. I also needed more asthma meds, so I thought combining that with my medical would be a smart move . . . and it was, until I got to the pharmacy next to the doctor. What I should have done was go and have my coffee and then come back, but I didn't. The pharmacy didn't have enough in stock to fill my prescription. This has happened every time I've been recently, so I shouldn't have been surprised. But this time it seems there were greater difficulties that I don't understand . . . the lady appointed to deal with me spoke loud and fast, but didn't seem to have all the information that she needed. Our interactions (entirely in Japanese) were punctuated with something like "chotto matte kudasai" (please excuse me) followed by her rushing back to talk to someone else (the pharmacist?). 

This back and forth went on for some time. 

I was sitting like a blob on the waiting seats, with a pretty massive headache and brain fog so thick that thinking was hard. 

Eventually she agreed that they could sell me two then and they would mail me the rest of the script later. I had to throw more complications into the conversation as I explained that I was going to be in Sapporo from Monday for five days, then back here for four days, then in Australia (I didn't mention Singapore) from the week after for five weeks!

I think we sorted it out, but now I look back, I'm not sure why it was so hard. Brain fog and headache contributed, for sure, but I'm hoping that it wasn't contagious and that she didn't also have compromised brain function!

The "medical" actually only took around 30 minutes, but the end result was that I pretty much was incapacitated for the whole morning. It was only after lunch that I started to be able to do anything much of value. And then I had a piano practice and staff family dinner at school . . . so yesterday I didn't feel like I got much of value done!

End of year feel

At both school (where David works) and OMF JHQ (our mission's national base) I found an "end of year" vibe. Certainly at school, where the school year ended this week, that was the case. I wasn't ready for it at JHQ. It's not the end of the year there, but with our national conference next week, there is a lot of "get this done before conference". And there are cross-overs between the two organisations. One key leader in OMF Japan has kids at the school, so they are heading off straight after conference on a short home assignment, and so she's been handing over jobs to people to take care of during the months she'll be away. Also so there was an edge of tired frantic-ness (overwrought?) there that I wasn't expecting.

Additionally, in both places there are people leaving after serving in each place for a long time. So there's an edge of sadness to it all as well.

Ah, I'd better stop writing here and get back to the things I need to get done "before conference".