Work retreat

For most of last week I hung out with the OMF Japan social media team. We're a five-person remote team and work from our respective homes across Japan. Our role is mobilisation: we encourage people to get more involved in mission, even if that is just knowing more about the needs for the gospel in Japan. Each team member is part-time, we've all got other ministries that we're involved in. So it was a joy to get together in one place (mostly—one member didn't join us as she's on maternity leave).

During our days together we talked about teamwork and personalities, about our mission as a team, and other team matters. But we also spent time creating together. It can be hard to just turn the creative tap on, but after working through some frustration we eventually got there. Actually, by the last afternoon I had to work hard to turn the creativity off so that we could finish our retreat and go home, even if we hadn't finished the projects we set our hands to.

My role on the team is leader, as well as writer and editor. I got to do a short writing/editing workshop with the team this year—it always amazes me how much I know about editing when I get to teach others about it (but I'm also aware that there's so much I still need to learn, especially about editing longer-form writing).

Checking out photos that one team member took.

Choosing something for lunch: yes, Japanese menus can
be huge, but (generally helpfully) include pictures.

Can you hear the creativity crackling?

Brainstorming themes for 2026

The most surprising thing to come out of the retreat was that all those at the retreat had been assessed as "NFP"s on the MBTI (our absent team member is also an "NF"). If you are my FB friend you may have seen that I was questioning my own "type" before the retreat. It's been over 25 years since I had a professional assessment of my type. At the time I was a newly wed, working as an Occupational Therapist, had no kids, and had never lived overseas. Last month I did a short online version of the assessment and came out with a different "type". I did it again a few days later and came out with yet another type. 

For the purpose of the retreat I went with my original type, but I'm left pondering how I've changed. If I recall correctly, my original type indicated that two of my categories were close to the middle. So my working theory is that because much has changed in my life that has changed me, I've grown. I've learned how to operate differently than when I was that 25 y.o., and I'm pretty comfortable with that. I'm also realising that I'm older and I don't have the same level of energy that I did before I had children. I now work a fairly "introverted" job that requires a lot of organisation skills and attention to details; I've lived for most of my adult life in a country with a very different culture and where I don't understand the language well. All these things change you. Occasionally I have opportunity to break out into my more extroverted, crazy self and that often surprises those who only know me in this context. But I love that. 

I also like that I'm able to tap into my creative side, while keeping hold of my organisational abilities. It's a sly combo of these two that have allowed me to both be part of the creative groups that attended the writer's retreat in May and the social media retreat last week, but have also allowed me to be the organiser of these retreats (something that not everyone who came are good at). The more creative part of my personality also loves the variety in my job.

Alas, last week finished and this week began and I'm back at my desk, hardly talking to anyone during the day (though I have been writing many emails). I'm glad we had the retreat, but also glad that I don't work like that all the time—by Friday night I was pretty knackered (US=exhausted). I've been catching up on all the work that got sidelined while I was away...after three solid days at my desk I'm getting there.

Opportunity to tell about a lifetime of learning to trust God

I "gave my testimony" at church a couple of weeks ago. That phrase is generally associated with telling how you came to Christ. But for some people like me, that is not an especially enthralling story because we came to Christ as a young child with no drama. I can't even remember a time I didn't believe in God, so there really isn't much to tell.

These are the gorgeous flowers
that stood in front of the lectern are
a type of protea, native to South 
Africa. But they are a close relative
to the Australian native plants:
banksias, grevilleas, and macadamias.

 But "testimony" also means "an open acknowledgment" or "a public profession of religious experience" according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary. So, I called it "A lifetime of learning to trust God" and told a bigger story about my life. I said a bit about my childhood, a bit about how I came to meet David and came to Japan, a bit about how I came to be an editor and writer. The last third of my story was about struggling to trust God as I walked alongside our kids, as they finished high school and moved into adult life. Much of this is stuff I've written about here at various times, though it was a challenge to squeeze the details out so that I could present it in under 15 minutes.

I have stood up in front of churches and other gatherings many times to tell stories about life and ministry in Japan, it's part of our job when we're on home assignment (which we've done for a total of 4 ½ years during the last 25 years). I can't remember having an opportunity like this before. I did have to give my testimony in Japanese at language school, but doing that in (my poor) Japanese was a very different experience to speaking in my heart language.

This one turned out to be a pretty teary experience, even bits that were from a very long time ago! I know that public speaking makes me nervous, which in turn makes me more likely to be emotional when I speak, so I had tissues with me, but I didn't expect be this tearful! 

But I was very encouraged by the opportunity to be heard by the whole church. An experience like that often means an emotional connection with the audience and I've had numerous conversations since then confirming that. I pray that it was helpful for some to hear that this very ordinary person, who happens to have the label "missionary", struggles in her faith, just like they do.

We've been camping again

For only the second time in 2025 we've gone camping. There has literally been no other time where the weather, vacation time, and our personal location have all matched up. We struck a pretty awesome week for it too. It wasn't too hot or too cold. The main snag wasn't too big: it rained for several hours on our second day, the first and third days were magnificent. The fourth day, our pack-up-and-return-home day, rain threatened, and so we got up earlier than planned and were putting our last things in the cars a bit after 8 am when the rain started.

First day:

I was really looking forward to driving away from Tokyo. It's always amazing as the city fades away and the mountains get closer. That's different to Australia (the mountains bit).

Japan is really quite a thin country! It took us only about four hours to drive to the west coast, about 270 km. Also a massive contrast from Australia (it's about 20 times as far to drive across our vast nation).

Getting close to our campsite on the west coast.

We were set up not too long before the sun went down around 5 pm and look at the show we got! It's not common that we've had a good view of the sun setting while camping in Japan, so this was a real treat. We had no neighbours and an uninterrupted view of the sunset.

We enjoyed American chilli and corn chips with "choc banana boats" for dessert that were cooked over the coals. I slept really well that night.

This little guy watched up set up.

Day two:

The sky was grey and rain threatened, so we went for a walk after breakfast while the weather was still okay.

It was a good thing we did, because the rain came down after lunch and remained until well into the evening. We enjoyed quiet reading time and then played card games in the "common" area. I completely whipped everyone in Uno Flip, a game that is 95% luck and so my kids will tell me I don't get much credit for that!

Dinner was chicken kebabs on sticks and s'mores for dessert. I was awake for a couple of hours in the middle of the night—it was very peaceful, but more sleep would have been welcome!

Day three:

We awoke to a gorgeous blue sky and warm sun . . . in fact most of the day it was too hot to stay in the tent. We went walking along the beach (two of our friends went for a 20k bike ride), and whiled away the rest of the day by reading and talking.

Somehow we when we're relaxing, we end up using more Australian words and continue, after nearly 10 years, to find more Australian words our US friends don't know. One I used this was was "skerrick". It is in the Merriam-Webster dictionary (a key US dictionary), but labelled as "Australian".

Large spider!

That night we enjoyed another gorgeous sunset.

Day four: we moved fairly steadily from getting up to leaving, so I didn't take any more photos, but on the journey home I did grab a short video of the entrance to one of Japan's longest mountain road tunnels: Kan-etsu Tunnel. It's just over 11 km long. On a previous camping trip we've driven under Tokyo Bay in that long tunnel, despite feeling longer, it's just under 10 km.

I've come home feeling relaxed, but tired. It was good to relax, but not a long enough break to be very refreshed. I was back at my desk today—it was amazing how many emails came in during the six days since I last looked at my computer!

Now, typically, we're looking forward to our next camping trip. If it comes off next spring, it will be our 10-year anniversary trip with our camping friends!

Bits and pieces from this week

Much of the year our weeks are shaped by school...yes, still. That's what happens when one or both of you work at one! So David is usually at school from 8 till 5 most days, Monday to Friday. Sometimes it's more than that, but it's been his habit since we got married to leave work at school. These days he's sometimes doing email or other school-related things in the evening at home, but he tries not to. He's also an occasional school bus driver and has other tasks out of school hours like supervising SAT exams and occasionally other extra curricular events on the campus.

I try to work between those hours also, it's quite different to the kind of ministry work that many of our colleagues are doing which often involves evenings and weekends.

This week, however, David is working longer hours, and not in Tokyo. He's gone with the year 12s to Nagasaki, a city about 15 hours drive (1,200 km) south west of here. So he's gone for four days. During that time I'll have had two office-based days and two out-and-about days. Both the latter are occasional gatherings of a wide variety of English-speaking Christian women for mutual encouragement and prayer.

On Wednesday I spent most of the day in far western Tokyo. It was tantalising—close to being out of the city, but not quite. But next week we're going camping! I'm so looking forward to walking away from my work for a few days to relax.

I went walking with four ladies after lunch. 
We longed to get down to the river
but unfortunately the bank is steep here. 

Today I spent several hours with a few local Christian mums who have kids with various disabilities. We gather every few months and it’s always a special time. There are aspects to my life that they just “get”.

Tonight I’m doing something very unusual: going to a Scottish dance that a friend is holding as a fundraiser for homeless ministry. It’s kinda like an Australian bush dance. I’m looking forward to a fun night. It’s on the other side of Tokyo so I’m staying the night and will return home In the morning. Weirdly David’s just arrived back in town and is catching trains the opposite direction across Tokyo!

Something that's been weighing on my mind has been this Sunday. Our church has a tradition of having "testimony Sunday" periodically. This is a time when we hear a couple of people's testimonies during the worship service instead of a sermon. This tradition arose during periods when the church had no pastor and has continued to this day. I knew this was coming as David gave his last year. I'd kinda been looking forward to the opportunity, but have been feeling less that way as the time has gotten closer. But I think I'll leave writing about that until after I've done it and I can reflect on the whole thing. 

I’m reduced to finishing this on my phone’s tiny keyboard as I ride the trains across town. It’s time to go! See you next time. 

Podcast episodes about neurodivergence and the Christian life

I recently listened to a three-episode podcast series about "Neurodivergence and the Christian Life". You can find them here: https://ccl.moore.edu.au/podcasts/

I am not a big podcast listener, but this subject matter is close to my heart, so I gave it a go. Actually, I found it a little academic and stiff, especially at the start of the first one, but it was worth sticking with. It's a huge topic and what they've done only barely touches some of it. But there were also sparkly moments, especially when they talked directly to neurodivergent adults and parents of neurodivergent kids.

Us and church and neurodivergence

Our family has managed fairly well over the years to be present and somewhat involved in church, but sometimes at a cost. 

Most of the church services I've been part of in the last 25 years have been in Japanese, and the truth is that my Japanese comprehension is not great, certainly not for a lengthy monologue that is a sermon. Add on to that the neurodivergence that our family carried with us, and I can't say that church has been a place that I got much nourishment for my soul. Our kids are not so disordered that they couldn't sit in through most services, but I was always on alert to help them stay settled or, in latter years, encourage one of them to leave the service when he was too disturbed by the sounds coming through the loudspeaker. 

We visited a lot of churches whenever we were in Australia, often as guest speakers. Getting our family seated in places so that everyone was content was hard, and (often at the same time) fending off offers for the kids to join the Sunday School as visitors. Our kids put up with a lot as we were often one of the last to leave after these visits because we were there for "work" and spent a lot of time talking to people afterwards. I have to say that the last two home assignments we have done ('18 and '23/'24) have been easier because we haven't had to take our kids around with us.

Back to the podcast

But back to the podcast, the third one includes a section about dealing with meltdowns and discipline that triggered in me a bunch of emotions:

"And if you can notice—as a parent, if we can notice these things in our child and identify some ways to comfort them, then sometimes you can actually release the pressure without a meltdown. And so a loving thing to do as a parent is actually to be on the lookout for these and to be on the lookout for ways to help them." (From the transcript here.)

This type of proactive parenting is exhausting. I clearly remember being at a small New Years Eve party at a friends house with our teenage sons and being unable to enjoy the evening. It was a familiar place with familiar people and we had all chosen to be there, but I was on edge much of the evening as I watched one of our sons struggle with the social gathering. Church is more predictable, yet a worship service has very little latitude for behaviour deviation and none for noise. Years and years of this wears on you. In some weird way I'm grateful for the pandemic because we had fewer social gatherings to deal with in those years!

Overall, the podcast was both encouraging and frustrating. I heard neurodivergent adults talking about their struggles and also about ways they've been helped and encouraged in their faith. I'm glad it's being talked about, but also longing for change to already have happened! I don't know what part I can play in that, but can at least continue to pray for the neurodivergent people in my life who are struggling and, when opportunity arises, to talk about our experience. This month I have been asked to give my testimony at our English-speaking service. I'm planning to share just a little bit of our walk with neurodivergence and the challenges I've had trusting God through it all.

Not tying my significance to my busyness

Yesterday I got to ride to my favourite large park. I don't think I've been there since April! It was my first ride there after the worst of the summer heat had abated. Just like last year, for weeks I've found myself longing for this.

It wasn't just a 16 km ride, I stopped in the park for a picnic and read (mostly non-fiction) for over three hours. Like a mini retreat, really. Also, riding a bike gives you time to think! And I think better when I'm doing something physical.

I was surprised when two main books I spent time reading yesterday intersected in some of their themes, as they are authors from very different worlds. The first one I mentioned a couple of weeks ago: Life Interrupted by a friend, Susan Chapman, it was published three years ago during the pandemic. It's short and jam packed with things to think about how we live our lives, our expectations, how to continue to grow, and take care of ourselves at the same time. Susan is a missionary with our organisation and I've known her since before we came to Japan. She, like me, has lived her life in Australia and East Asia and grew up in a similar part of Australia to me. Her book was born out of a major interruption that she and her husband experienced during Covid. It's a text that you could use for a retreat or a small group, because there's plenty of questions and avenues to explore.

The Cosmo field: I alway stop here
and take photos at this time of the year.
They were almost the only flowers in the
whole park yesterday.

One quote that stood out to me was, "To say no appropriately, we need to stand against any cultural expectation that our busyness is linked to our significance. Author Brené Brown sums it up well—'if we want to live a wholehearted life, we have to become intentional about cultivating sleep and play, and about letting go of exhaustion as a status symbol and productivity as self-worth.'"

The second book is The Road to Daybreak, and is the first book I've read by Henri J.M. Nouwen. I've seen him mentioned by authors like Tim Keller and Philip Yancey, but haven't picked up one of Nouwen's works myself. Henri was a Dutch Catholic priest who worked for much of his life in north America; he was an intellectual as well as a priest, a speaker and mentor as well as dipping his toe in the waters of missionary work in South America. This book was extracted from a diary he wrote during a year when God led him away from the intellectual world of Harvard into a very different life. He was serving as the priest at a L'Arche home in France. (L'Arche ("The Ark") is an international federation of non-profit organisations working to create networks of community where people with and without intellectual disabilities live and work together–Wikipedia.) 

I've only just begun this latter book, but am finding it fascinating. He was in his early 50s and was searching for God's leading.  He writes: "I feel a tension within me. I have only a limited number of years left for active ministry. Why not use them well?...Time given to inner renewal is never wasted. God is not in a hurry."

So here the two books coincide. I struggle with needing to link my output to my significance. Nouwen was discovering that these people he was living with (and indeed himself also) were significant despite having limited output and limited potential for the future as far as the world understood it. I know this all in my head, but I so often fall short when I try to link that to my thoughts about my own worth and value. I want, so often, to prove my value to others through what I do and how busy I am, I get depressed when work is a little slow and my thoughts turn to all my deficits and then start condemning me as "pretty useless really".

I saw a lot of red dragonflies. This one is
called the "Spotted darter".

So with these authors speaking to me, I felt very much at peace reading in the park yesterday. It was a rare "perfect" day in Tokyo: neither hot nor cold, not windy or wet or grey. This side of heaven I will never get my thoughts and feelings perfectly aligned with how God sees me, but maybe, incrementally, I can grow more Christ-like and less tied to my faulty thinking.

The sky was gorgeous!

A fun night out

Last night we stepped of our comfort zone (which is: staying quietly at home on a Friday night and going to bed at a usual time). Instead, on the eve of our 28th wedding anniversary, we went out on a Friday night and had fun. 

Start of the women's 200m.

It's five years since the Tokyo Olympics were supposed to happen and four years since they did and we sat at home in Tokyo watching events happen in our own city that we had had tickets for! Last night we went to the National Stadium (the main Olympic stadium—22 km from our place) to watch a session of the World Athletics Championships.

It was a lot of fun. I feared that part of it might be slow, but they kept us entertained for five hours! I only left my seat once. At times it was hard to know where to look. At one point there was women's javelin, women's decathlon shot put (both of which were down our end of the stadium) and some 800m and 5,000m races all happening at the same time, during which the male triple jumpers were also warming up. So much going on and so impressively organised. I love going to orchestral concerts because they are visually an absolute feast, and this was the same, so many things to watch.

When you are at an event like this in person there are so many things you can see that don't get shown on TV, like how they get the javelins and shots back to the athletes (remote cars for the former and a ramp for the latter). There was also a cool dude on a motorised unicycle on the track taking video of the runners in the back straight (the video you'll be seeing on TV). The choreography that went into putting out and removing the hurdles was also impressive.

The weather was also gorgeous. Finally the fiercely hot and humid Tokyo summer is in the past and we've entered into delightful early autumn. It was neither hot nor cold last night, even as we walked home at midnight.

A lot of the 58,000 people in the stadium were Japanese; you could tell that merely from the noise when their athletes were introduced or competing. We discovered that the reigning female World Champion in javelin is Japanese and we watched her strive last night to qualify for the finals in the competition to defend her crown. She didn't qualify, unfortunately, but she was well cheered for by the crowd.

This was early in the evening when 
the stands weren't so full, by the end
of the session at 10.30 there weren't
many spare seats near us.

But it was an international event and there were many foreigners too. Many more than we are used to seeing. Later, when we got on a train to go home, I watched a Japanese guy, probably on his way home from a work event, look in amazement at the large influx of people onto his train, many of whom were talking (not something common on trains), and not all in Japanese. He was sitting in front of where I was standing and craning his neck to see if he could tell which station we'd all gotten on at (he'd probably been napping). 

I'd not been looking forward to the trip home. I've had some very uncomfortable, overly crowded experiences late at night on Tokyo trains (and some not so great ones getting home from sporting events in Brisbane too). This wasn't so bad, though getting out of the stadium was a tad confusing, when the route we'd taken to get in was closed. The staff redirected us along different routes, largely by shouting at us in Japanese through hand-held speaker horns. But once we found the station, it was okay and many passengers got off our train fairly quickly and I ended up having a seat for much of the trip home, which was a good thing because I was definitely drooping at 11.45 on a Friday night!

Enjoying where we live

Despite having lived here for 20 years I think it's only just dawning on me that I live in this nation's capital! And that a lot of cool international-type things happen here. To those who see Japan as a travel destination, a place to see the sights and do the fun things, it might seem weird. But we live in Japan, we're not on holidays here and, like most people in the place they live, we don't do much tourism. 

And also, when we first arrived in Tokyo we had three boys under seven, and for a long time we just hunkered down and did what needed to be done. Rarely did we venture out to events that weren't part of our immediate circle. We didn't have the energy to go to events or take the family out for travel adventures. Most of our outings were, in the early years, to parks, and later (since 2010), many of our Saturdays were consumed by interschool sport.

But on the other hand, some people might also find it weird that missionaries do any tourism at all. Before we came to Japan we were given some excellent advice about missionary life. We were told to try to be as present as you can, where you are; to enjoy things you couldn't do elsewhere. That doesn't mean we love everything about Japan and only eat Japanese food, but it does mean that we'll happily enjoy an international event like the World Athletics Championships when they come to town. By the way, it also means that we rarely eat Japanese food in Australia, and we do our best to enjoy being present in Australia too.

We'd also been advised by a psychologist, as we approached having all our kids leave home, that we should spend more time enjoying ourselves! We're a pretty good team, but fun hasn't always been easy to do. I'd like to think that we've made some progress on that front in the last couple of years. And last night surely qualifies!