Okinawan adventure

Last week we had a pretty unusual week. Okay, some things were familiar, but many things were not.

The girls posing on the beach

David and I flew to Okinawa (a group of Japanese islands closer to Taiwan than Tokyo). We travelled with two teenage girls from CAJ. It was our first visit and when we arrived I realised I'd never been on such a remote island. 

This part of Japan is also distinctly different to what they call "mainland". I was surprised when talking to my dad when he referenced a sad wartime Australian folk song by Ted Egan called "Sayonara Nakamura" about a pearl diver from Okinawa. The region has a sad wartime history. There are still a lot of US military on the islands (about 30,000 troops and a population of around 80,000 from the US). We didn't get much time to ourselves to explore, but maybe one day we'll be able to go back.

We were the support crew for CAJ's high school girl's wrestling team at a two-day tournament called "Far East". This is the same type of tournament that we've been to several times before, notably, two of our sons were crowned "Far East champions" in their last year of high school when they won the final in their weight classes at this event. Across the world the US military run regional tournaments for various events such as wrestling, track and field, basketball, etc. Our region is "far east" and includes Korea and Japan.

It's way out in the ocean!

This was the first ever girls-only Far East tournament ever held in our region and the first one we'd ever been to. Most tournaments we've been part of have been male-dominated and this one looked quite different in some ways. Some notable things:

• most wrestlers had long hair and most of it was braided
• lots of them had mascara
• emotion was close to the surface: tears were common and winners often were crying, boys react quite differently to winning
• many more hugs going round, most of the girls genuinely loved hanging out with their competitors
• it took a while to figure this out, but the cheering/screaming was higher pitched and it really jangled in our heads after a while
• girls don't sweat as much as guys and the gym didn't quite smell as bad as quickly as with a gym full of male wrestlers

But in other ways, it was just a wrestling meet. The rules were the same, the outfits (almost) the same. These were athletes doing their best at a sport they'd worked hard at and there were some great matches.

Because we were such a small team it almost felt family-like. It was also quite different travelling with two teenage girls, as opposed to boys. David was impressed that when we told them we were meeting in the foyer of the hotel at 7 am to catch the US school bus they'd sent for us, the girls were there, on time, with all their gear! I was honoured to be asked by the girls to pray for them at the start of each day of competition.

Yummy Okinawan Zebra bread
(peanut butter flavoured)

On the last afternoon we were freed from the base in time to see the sun set and explore the local shops a little. We noted that the girls were looking for scenic spots to pose and take photos...something that we've found boys not interested in at all!

I was so glad I had the opportunity to do this. It really was a historical occasion. For years I've watched girls struggle on the edge of this sport. Having to wrestle guys is not at all ideal and we've longed to see the sport grow so that girls will have other girls to compete against. It was very special being part of this inaugural event! I do wonder why I'm so passionate about this...I think it's in part that, as a short girl I'm excited about a sport where short, strong girls can succeed. So many sports that were open to girls when I was younger were biased towards taller girls. We watched tiny, strong girls competing last week, and it was fun.

The girls were sad that the rest of their team and their usual coaches weren't with them. We were a poor substitute to the guys they'd been training with all season. We've heard rumours that it will be a combined meet next year and we're hopeful. We talked with the girls over meals about recruiting more girls and even dreamed about having a female coach sometime in the future. I wish I had the skills to coach them, but I'm content to support from the sidelines and hope I'll continue to have that opportunity in the future.

Another Okinawan treat: peanut butter filled biscuit/cookie.

Not all beautiful.

Braiding was a real theme...I'm not sure
I'll ever say yes to braiding someone's hair
at a meet again: my lack of skills was very 
obvious when one of the girls did this after my poor
attempt the day before. Japanese hair is
fine and slippery!

We got cute t-shirts!

Living it up on Spring Break

There's a lot going on today and I feel a bit discombobulated, so maybe if I write a short blog post I might be able to get my head back in the game. We're in that beautiful week called "Spring Break" that happens at the end of March. This is an American thing that I fully embrace: a short school "vacation" just as spring is ramping up. We only get a week and it is over before you sneeze three times, but still, it's the perfect time of year to get outside after winter. We've often gone camping during this week.

Oh, did I mention camping? Yes, we're going camping tomorrow for four days. I can't wait to get away, these last few weeks I've been struggling to wake up in the morning, though once I get going I've been okay.

The weather is unpredictable at this time of year. In the last five days we've had snow and sunny 26˚C. Today is overcast and about 18˚C. The weather where we're headed in the morning is well under 10˚C at night and mid 20s during the day, until Friday when it might dip below 20˚C. The weather looks fine until Thursday and Friday when we could get wet, but hopefully not snowed on! We're in the period where sakura could be blooming...so we're hoping to see some along our journey and even at our campsite like we did two years ago. I need to pack soon and the flavour of the week will be layering!

But before we go, we've had things to do. 

Today David helped some colleagues get their stuff out of the storage place OMF rents for people on home assignment. He had lunch with another OMF colleague to touch base in a "how're you going" kinda way, plus talking over some OMF matters, like our next home assignment.

This morning I went to school for a few hours to help make cookies for the school's 75 anniversary celebrations next week. I haven't worked in a Home Ec kitchen since I was 13! After my tiny kitchen at home, it was a luxury, even if I didn't know where everything was and how it worked.

This afternoon I need to assess our grocery situation and camping list and go shopping for a few things, as well as pack my bag. It's the first time we've gone camping on our own as a couple! It should be fun and very quiet and relaxing.

Without kids at home, life feels easier and that we aren't working so hard. But apparently we are working as hard as we need to and we're still getting tired. I'm very thankful God granted us children when we're young. As a result I was only 50 when my last child moved out of home. But we're no longer in our 20s like when we first got married, and it's good to remember that.

We're excited by the work that God continues to give us. I'm starting to see glimpses of the things that God has for me in this new season. You've already started to hear about them—writing retreat coming up in May, writing workshop at the women's retreat a couple of weeks ago—there's a theme. Plus a few other ways to serve in small ways at church and OMF's field conference. It's exciting and I'm sure you'll hear about them in due time.

But for now, it's time to step aside and put our tools down for a few days and relax. Next time I'll come to you with camping stories and photos!

Questions corner

Here’s one I prepared earlier. Our youngest son is moving out tomorrow and it’s been busy!

I've mentioned before that I write 11 prayer letters a year. I've been writing them since October 1998, so it's gotten to be a habit. The way that I manage to churn out so many is by using a template, and by making it in a newspaper-type format. Here's an example from five years ago. There are "regular" sections that I just fill in each time, like a calendar; a prayer list; a "on the home front" with personal news; and CAJ corner, which David writes about the school and his work. 

But when we're in Australia we change up the "CAJ corner" to something else. This time it's become "Question corner" where we answer good questions people ask us (or questions we wish people would ask us!). Here are some we've featured:

So, how’s Japan?

This is an impossible question to answer when it comes at the start of a conversation. It usually comes from someone who wants to engage with us, but isn’t sure where to start. In case you want to ask us a question when you see us, here are some suggestions of questions you could ask us in casual conversation:

Japanese BBQ we use while camping

• What do you miss about Japan?
• What’s something funny that happened to you in Japan?
• Tell me something you love about Japan.
• How is the Japanese church doing post-COVID?
• What’s a small thing that brings you joy in Japan?
• What’s the climate like in Tokyo?
• Tell me about a regular day for you in your work in Japan.
• Are Japanese people worried about the political situation in the region?
• What do you do to relax in Japan?
• We’ve heard you love to camp there, tell us about camping in Japan.

Is Japan’s population shrinking?

According to worldpopulationreview.com, “Japan’s population is projected to lose 20.7 million people between 2020 and 2050. The population is expected to shrink from 126.5 million to 105.8 million, a 16.3% decline. Japan’s population has been falling since 2011 due to very low fertility rates (1.42 births per woman) and an aging population.”

Fertility rates in wealthy countries around the world are dropping. Japan’s is the fourth lowest in the world. Pair that with proportionately the oldest population in the world (29.2% over 65 years of age) and you’ve got population shrinkage.

There are many cultural factors to this situation, including an education system that demands a lot of parents, especially mothers; low childcare support; and a nation that works hard and sleeps little, so there’s often little time or energy to find partners. A recent survey also revealed that around 50% of unmarried adults under 30 don’t want children. And Japan also accepts few immigrants, though there are pushes to change this, it probably won’t change quickly.

Japanese people are concerned about the future of their country. Pray that they’ll find hope in God.

Why are so few people coming to know Christ in Japan?

This is a really hard question to answer—people have written whole books on it. The truth is, we don’t know why the Holy Spirit is not moving more people to become Christians in Japan. It’s possible to discern various factors in individual stories, but the same set of factors don’t apply to every person. For example, one person might not want to let their family down by abandoning the family altar they are responsible for, another doesn’t feel the need for what appears to them as a foreign god. Many people are held back because they don’t understand grace and forgiveness, or don’t see themselves as sinners.

The pressure to conform to the group is strong in Japan and while Christianity is such a tiny minority (under 1%), it is hard for people to consider stepping outside that. Many people have never heard the gospel. Will you pray for this nation of 125.7 million people?

Why go with a mission organisation?

We’ve been greatly blessed by being members of OMF International. Here are a few reasons why:

• OMF has provided so much on-the-ground support in Japan and in Australia. They’ve helped us when we’ve had medical needs, provided fellowship vital to longevity, guided us in important decisions, provided professional development, admin support, and language training. They also sponsor our visas and have helped us find housing.
• The local knowledge and experience that they’ve got as an organisation helped us get to Japan and settle there in ministry.
• They’ve provided us with a means to get the money people have given towards our support in Japan, in a way that doesn’t look like international money laundering.
• They’ve got a much wider platform in Australia than we have personally, enabling us to develop a wider prayer and financial support team that would otherwise be possible, but also to tell more people about the needs in Japan.
• They’ve supported us through challenges with our sons in recent years and given us much grace to do our best to support our kids, even when that meant taking time off.
• Possibly the most important thing to us is that being members of OMF means we feel part of a greater whole—a body that is working together to reach Japan for Christ. That sense of purpose, and of working together with others is very important to us.

Why do parents send their kids to CAJ?

CAJ was founded to serve the children of missionaries, and that remains its main purpose. About 40% of the students come from missionary families (it varies a little from year to year). These missionary families are seeking education for their children in English, and with a Christian emphasis.

There are various reasons that these missionaries don’t use local schools. Sometimes they arrive in Japan with older children and it’s too difficult to start Japanese school at a later age when kids don’t have the language. Others try Japanese schools for a time and find the culture difficult, or maybe the students just don’t do well. CAJ provides an alternative option so that missionary families can stay in Japan.

Similar reasons apply to an additional 40% of students who come from a variety of Christian backgrounds: some are local Japanese Christian families, and a good number of Christian foreigners who work in secular jobs in Japan.

The remaining 20% of students come non-Christian families who desire an education in English, but don’t mind the values that CAJ weaves into its teaching. Our prayer is that all of these students will serve Jesus in their lives.

How can I prepare to serve in missions?

There are lots of things you can do. When we’re asked this question we say:

• Read about mission: biographies, social media, etc.
• Connect with a missionary and pray for them regularly
• Find others who are like-minded about cross-cultural mission and spend time with them.
• Find ways to serve others where you are: in your church, and in other ways too, like with AFES.

OMF Japan recently shared some tips on their social media from a helpful article by an MTW (Mission to the World) missionary that also included these tips :

• Get cross-cultural (where you are, or on short-term trips overseas)
• Study Scripture
• Learn language/s
• Evangelize
• Be uncomfortable
• Live with less
• Pray more

Change is in the air

The dominant theme in my week has been transition planning at work. Yes, I know, I've been thinking about this for months, and rightly so, it's more than one complicated problem that I've been trying to solve. But this week I feel like I made it past a tipping point in the planning and was able to get some plans rolling. Each day I've been juggling my usual work with communicating with people (via email or video call) about jobs I'm going to hand off to them, or how their particular job will change with me stepping back. 

It's exhausting and has come a bit to dominate my thinking over the last months. And, while I'm happy to be making visible progress, I think I'll also be happy to make it past the planning stage into the execution stage and see a visible reduction in my workload on this side of the ocean, to make room for new things.

End-of-senior-year pressure cooker

I'm very happy this is my last time as mum of a senior at high school. It's a lot of pressure and life is moving like a rocket for these kids at the moment. There is so much going on in these final weeks of school (graduation is two weeks from today), that it's hard for us parents to keep up. 

I'll be very glad for these two weeks to be over, but there's a bitter-sweet note too, as these friends with whom they have forged something very special, will be scattered around the earth, literally. Kids growing up outside their passport culture find "home" amongst other people like them, so at an international school the bonds are often stronger than you'd usually find in a school. During times we've spent in Australia it's their school and friends from CAJ that they have missed the most, even more than Japan itself. This is a much more "permanent" goodbye to that relatively safe place. Our youngest has been at this school since kindergarten, barring three home assignments, totalling 2 ½ years. During his life he's said goodbye to a lot of good friends, but usually one at a time, this time it's much bigger. So grief hovers below the surface of the craziness that abounds at present.

My experience of orchestral concerts has 
always been people dressing fairly formally.
It wasn't so on Saturday, but we had fun
nonetheless!

Something different

David and I did something totally unusual on Saturday night. We went to a symphony orchestra concert downtown. It was a suggestion I gave him for my birthday present. This is something really enjoyed doing when I was much younger: I have fond memories of my mum taking me to concerts as a young teenager. It's not something David has done much of, in fact, we have only once before done this as a couple, way back when we only had two kids, nearly 20 years ago! 

The concert was held in NHK Hall, which has a
capacity of 3,400! It was about ¼ or ⅓ full. NHK
is the national broadcaster in Japan, and the 
concert was recorded for TV and radio. Not sure
when they'll broadcast it. And yes, we were 
towards the back (there was a tier above us).

It proved to be a great experience, one that is very accessible in Tokyo. We can see concert-going in our future. We're definitely thinking about how life will be different as a couple and pondering how we can make that a rich and full experience, rather than the rather negative "empty nest" tag that it's often given.

Surprised by a book

I'm currently reading a book as research for writing an editorial for Japan Harvest on a topic I know little about: singleness. The book is called Sacred Siblings. Two people recommended that we publish a review for it in the upcoming magazine, but no one volunteered, so I decided to use it to help me write an article that I feel incredibly ill-equipped to write.

The book is not what I expected. It is very applicable to all people in ministry, but especially overseas ministry (their stated audience). I've been surprised to find that my experience as a married mother has come up many times in it. Married women with young children and single women have very different stories on the mission field, and not always in ways that you might imagine if you've not lived as each. It's interesting to have that written out in black and white, I'm not sure I've ever seen it acknowledged in print. 

I was struck by a story shared by one of the authors about two teams she was part of: one had a majority of married couples and the other had a majority of singles. She noted how the majority (no matter the makeup of that group) had a lot of difficulty seeing and accommodating the minority.

I'm nearly halfway through the book, but am already glad I've picked it up and hope that by writing about the book in the magazine it is picked up by others in the missions community too, especially the majority in leadership (largely married men with children).

My role is about to change in this area too with the remainder of my children leaving home, I'll soon be a married woman without children in Japan. I guess we've been living in the middle-ground for nearly six years now: with one of our sons living in Australia. I expect that this change to just the two of us here will give me a different perspective from that which I've had up till now—I've never been in Japan without children at home.

And such are the thoughts that are rushing around in my head at the end of this week. I'm also keeping an eye on the weather. I usually do a grocery run on my bike on Fridays and we have a rain front approaching us, so if I want to do it and stay relatively dry, I need to hop on my bike very soon! In fact . . . it's already raining, which is not what the forecast said . . . so do I don rain gear, or wait a little, or take the car?

Little exchanges add up to a lot

Have you ever thought about the little exchanges that make up the bulk of connection with others? Our lives aren’t generally full of D&Ms (deep and meaningful conversations). Though often I long for that deep connection with people, there is, actually, a limit on how much of that I can handle in any one day.

On Friday the school held the biggest school-community event it’s had in three years. It’s a descendent of the ginormous garage sale known as Thrift Shop. I’ve blogged about that event many times over the last 12 years (see some of those posts here). Now it is called the Fall Festival and Bazaar. The “bazaar” side of things is a scaled-down version of Thrift Shop, designed to cost less in terms of time-commitment for staff and volunteers. It also includes something new: a place where individuals or groups can rent a table to peddle their own wares. Because, of the last three years, we've been saving up stuff we want to get rid of (that isn't rubbish), we decided to rent a table.

Our table as it looked at the start of the day.

There were a few great things about having our own table: 

• I had a place to "be" all day. I didn't feel like I was loitering or wasting time. It was also a starting place for conversations that weren't uncomfortable, a here-and-present kind of thing that helped me stay away from topics that aren't so easy to talk about in a light way.
• We had a bucket of "free stuff" that the younger kids loved. It's such fun giving things away.
• I got to make and sell fudge (but I was disappointed with the packaging we managed, which made the fudge look decidedly dodgy).
• We did actually get rid of a fair bit of stuff to places that it will be used (rather than just sent to the rubbish). We were able to give two boxes of stuff to the Salvation Army who came at the end for stuff that hadn't been sold.

I went into Friday expecting lots of more conversations, and came away feeling a little dissatisfied with how insubstantial most of the exchanges were. But, as I've seen as I reflected over the weekend is that on Thursday and Friday I was part of the gentle web of connection that has begun forming again in the community that centres around the school. Looking back, I had short conversations about all the following things:

A future camping trip

Why I had a nearly 100-year-old hymn book for sale (yes, I sold it)

A recent 500 pound, 8-foot bear attack in the US (yes, there was)

How much my youngest son has grown and changed

How to say “poached egg” in Japanese (no, I can't remember now)

How to use a baccarat espresso maker

What Thrift Shop used to look like (for someone new in the community)

Where Kuranda is (inland from Cairns)

How much CAJ pays substitute teachers

The difference between chocolate and fudge (yes, we were confused by the question)

What it was like growing up a few blocks from the US on the Canadian side of the border and how I’ve never lived in a country that has international land borders (only sea borders, hence “going overseas” is synonymous with going to another country). 

Shopping habits: I prefer to be left alone to consider the option and very much dislike shopkeepers in my face.

How exhausting parenting is emotionally, and how ready I am to be moving on out of being the parent of a school-aged child (7 ½ months…but I’m not counting :D).

Fudge and how we’ve given this to our boys’ teachers for years. This is the last year that will happen.

How I got rejected by the blood bank on Friday at the school because my haemoglobin was a little bit low.

Plans for the next couple of years (moving out, home assignment from July 2023, moving back to Japan).

The big gaps that the pandemic has left us with in community: those whose kids started at the school during the pandemic don’t know the parents of their kids’ friends. I don’t know the faces of a bunch of new teachers (and their kids). That's something that rarely happened before the pandemic, due to staff-family gatherings that have usually been held through the year.

I met a lady who works for the same organisation that publishes the magazine. I’ve only really interacted with her over email, though perhaps we’ve met once, I can’t remember.

I got some hugs and got to see some people I haven’t seen in months or years.

And a thank you for my recent blog posts from someone who says she reads everything I write!

I'll stop there. When you add all that up, that's a lot of networking. And the sorts of stuff that doesn’t happen when you aren’t face-to-face with people. I was exhausted on Friday night (and Saturday). But also thankful. 

The good and the bad, and joy in the midst of it all

I have a lot to be thankful for this week . . . maybe I'm learning how to have joy in the midst of pain?

On the one hand, I've been weary and overwhelmed, and I've struggled with headaches all week. 

Playing French cricket with our UK friends on Saturday was fun.
And the sky was magnificent viewing: all day! It's not often you
get so far from other people and buildings in the greater Tokyo area.

But on the other hand, we've had some great things happening. Last Saturday, despite being unable to do our planned camping trip, and having some last-minute hiccups, we were able to spend the day with friends/colleagues. I was able to have a long weekend—a quiet day of just relaxing at home on Tuesday was very unusual, but matched with my family's schedule (school's Fall Break) and was needed. 

And, after months of waiting, we're seeing some positive changes in the local situation. The number of new COVID-19 infections is the lowest it's been all year. This week three meetings that have been online for many months have been, or will be, in person: a prayer and fellowship meeting with our mission, a prayer meeting at school, and worship on Sunday at church. 

All good, but also a tad overwhelming in the suddenness that it's all changed. We've also seen forward movement on a couple of fronts for one of our guys, which is very encouraging, but has made my schedule next week a bit busier than I'd like.

Another unexpected thing I've been doing this month is a daily photo challenge with Taking Route, an online community for expat women. The challenge is #thisglobalwalkoutside. Using daily photo prompts, expat women around the world are taking photos outside and sharing them. I've not been interacting much with the community, but been simply enjoying taking the simple prompt and searching each day for a photo to take (or one that was taken earlier) and post, plus something to write about the prompt (I can't resist the writer-side of me). It was something I stumbled upon at the start of the month and I have to say the results have been unexpected. My reflections have surprised me (as have some of my photos).

I have to say also, that despite all that I've had going on, plus a headache, I've been remarkably productive in even this short week . . . but that reminds me that I must get back to my To Do list before this working week is over.

Tidbits from recent weeks

In the spirit of sharing "ordinary life," which is where this blog started out all those years ago! Here's a bit of what's been going on in our house recently (aside from camping):

School

New building and field (before it was completely finished)

School started last week for the students. David started work again full-time more than a week earlier than the kids, and had been working part-time since the start of the month. I'm trying to figure out when we last had just one boy at school—that would be when our eldest started Japanese kindergarten in April 2003, before the one who is now our only boy at school was even born.

Another exciting development at school is the new building that replaces the old cafeteria, but includes a band practise room and a multipurpose room. It overlooks a new full-sized soccer field that is covered in artificial turf. The school looks very different! The 'field" has been gravel for many decades, so this is a huge change.

COVID-19

We've also been touched by COVID-19. We had one case in the high school and that prompted online schooling for just two days at the start of this week while they assessed the situation. We're back to usual on campus classes again now.

As of yesterday all the Tokyo Marshalls are now fully vaccinated, which we're very happy about, especially considering that the country is in the midst of a spike of infections that is far bigger than we've had so far.

Weather

The weather has been in the forefront of our minds, as it usually is in a Tokyo August. Oddly, we had a cooler wet patch in the middle of the month, which we were thankful for. Alas the unbearable heat and humidity soon returned and we had challenges with sleeping and close proximity. Only three of our six rooms are air conditioned, so that made for interesting times with teens who value their privacy. 

On Tuesday this week another cool change came through which dropped temperatures into the low 20s, a shock to the system, but most welcome. We've slept deeply these last couple of nights. A cool change at this time of year is unlikely to turn back into the worst of summer, though we might have one or two 30C days still to come.

Olympics and Paralympics

We've enjoyed many an hour watching these amazing events in our lounge room. The range of English commentary available to us online has been impressive, and we've often played the "guess the commentator's accent" game! It was sad that we didn't get to use the tickets we had to four different events, but a relief in some ways, as spectating in the Tokyo heat would have been very tough.

Lily pads

With holidays behind us, I've struggled a little to find "lily pads" to look forward to. We have talked about a possible camping plan for October and have booked our usual pre-Christmas holiday. But I've also made some smaller plans, which includes pulling out my sewing machine and trialling a weekly out-of-the-house work date with myself.

My work

These last weeks I've been working on the final stages of our Autumn magazine issue about Men in the Japanese church. We finished that on Tuesday afternoon. I've also been communicating with authors who have/are writing for our Winter issue about Technology in Ministry. There's a lot that's been going on in that area and it's a very timely topic to cover, alas that also makes it a challenge to fit everything into the space available!

Our social media continues onwards also. In August we covered Sports, for obvious reasons. Not as much Olympic and Paralympic news as we would have had if we hadn't been in a pandemic, but still, we managed to find plenty to share. In September we have a more challenging topic: Japanese church history. So in recent days I've been reading and trying to write summaries of various topics and eras that make sense and work for social media while at the same time keeping in mind our purpose: mobilising people to be more involved in mission. Yeah, not the easiest of tasks.

I also picked up a small writing gig: writing an article about missionaries and loneliness for our OMF US folk who are tackling that topic in September. It's a topic I've written about many times here, so it was interesting to pick it up again and try to write something fresh.

I've also just written our monthly news and prayer letter. We also have the responsibility of running a prayer night for our fellow 120+ missionaries at our online field conference in a couple of weeks. Planning needs to be done!

I tend to be easily bored, so I'm thankful to have a job that means I'm kept on my toes and have lots of different places to turn my attention, even if it can be stressful at times.

But for today, it's time to pull the plug on work and move into dinner prep and a relaxing evening. How's your August been?

On the edge of ordinary on the medical scene

Looking at July and August, all I've written about on this blog is holidays and camping! Anyone would think I've done nothing else. I actually only had 16 official days of holidays in those two months. Since we got back from holidays in mid July I've been at my desk most of each work day (aside from those two days of camping a couple of weeks back). It's always a challenging time of year to work, although as the boys grow older it's become much less of a problem. They are no longer running around the house during their holidays, demanding my attention at random times, so I've got a lot more headspace to devote to work.

David went back to work officially on Monday, so this week is looking more like business as usual, except that I've got two big boys sleeping away much of the day (yes, they are pretty nocturnal at the moment). When I say "officially", David's actually been in and out of school many days in the last fortnight. And he's been on his computer doing email and other admin things for a period most days, not to mention three Zoom meetings/training with OMF last week. Plus, he's been working on a project of digitalising a portion of his work that has existed on index cards that have been collected by dozens of teachers over the last few decades. So, I've not been alone in working at home here!

We do as much of our medical care as we
can in Japanese, but for some things we 
really need English service providers for.
We're thankful for the doctor near this
station who has been caring for one of our
sons over the last 2 ½ years.

In addition to that, we've been doing a few medical things. I wanted to write a bit about one of them—a visit to a dermatologist.

When you live in your home country you don't think about how the medical things that happen there are (sometimes) specific to your country. Of course you might think about how accessing medical care in another language is hard (and it is!), but I've got a different type of example you might not have thought about.

Skin cancer isn't common here

Australia has the highest rate of skin cancer in the world for men (not women, though we're close to the top of the list). Japan is not even in the top 20 countries in this list. But Japan is third on the list for stomach cancer and Australia doesn't feature in the top 20. (This data is from here.) 

These are interesting statistics, but the rubber hits the ground when you are not living in your home country. In Australia skin cancer is high on the list of things that your local GP will check if you ask them to (and in fact we've been told that the average Australian GP is better informed about skin cancer than the average dermatologist in Japan). Plus, there are many easily accessible skin cancer clinics that will give you a regular full body check. By contrast, in Japan, there aren't such clinics. And at annual government-funded medicals in Japan, they check for bowel and stomach cancer, but skin cancer isn't on the radar.

It just so happens that my husband has a family medical history (and now a personal history) of skin cancer, and so this is definitely on our radar as he gets older. I'm very grateful, therefore, that we live in one of the largest metropolises in the world. It's possible to find unusual services, like a doctor who has read up on skin cancer in Australia and is willing to "colour outside the lines" with foreign patients who have different skin and had different environment growing up to most of the Japanese population. It's not covered by our Japanese health insurance, but it's an awful lot cheaper and easier than going to Australia. It really is another example of how we live "on the edge of ordinary".

And life continues on...

Aside from all that, we're living pretty quiet lives here and trying not to be too stressed by the news of what's going on in the rest of the world. The pandemic is raging in Japan (between 15,000 and 20,000 new cases a day in the last few days, around 5,000 of those in Tokyo) and we're doing essentials, but otherwise at home. We're thankful that Japan is working hard to vaccinate—nearly 50% of the population has had one jab, that's 60 million people since they began in mid February. Maybe by summer next year Australia will welcome us back for a couple of months without requiring us to quarantine in a hotel at our own expense?

School (CAJ) starts the new school year for students from next Tuesday. I'm still coming to grips with the fact that we'll only have one at school this year. We're not sure what the year will look like for our middle son, but we're glad we have the means to be able to support him at this transition time of life, to give him a chance to figure things out.

Festive Fudge Fundraiser!

Last week on social media I posted about one of the things I love to do at Christmas time: make chocolate fudge and give it to each of our boys' teachers. As an aside I pondered what I would do after our youngest has left school (only two more Christmases after this one until that happens). A few people comments that they'd happily receive fudge from us! 

That got me thinking . . . maybe I could sell them. Then, while walking together last Wednesday night, David commented that a couple of other people we know in the school community are using their skills at making things to raise money for the current fundraiser at school Impact 75 to raise money for an artificial turf field at school (it's currently gravel).

So I impulsively decided to set up our own mini fundraiser by volunteering to make fudge for anyone who could pick them up from us or from school, and pay 100 yen a piece. So far we've sold 100 pieces! I made 3.5 kg of fudge on the weekend and David cut them up, packaged them, and has delivered them this morning to (mostly) staff at school.

It's been a fun venture (and diversion), but I don't think I'll be going into commercial cookery anytime soon. Too much pressure to make things "perfect" and "regular". David had quite a bit of fun trying to cut the pieces into as regular sizes as he could.

David working with the fudge pieces and scales.
His cutting wasn't as accurate as he'd hoped!

If there's anyone else in the local community who'd like to buy fudge from us, I can make 30 more pieces. Please put your order in here by Tuesday 5pm: Fudge fundraiser. It needs to be picked up at school on Wednesday or from us by Thursday night because we go away on holidays on Friday.

It's hard to reflect when you're in the middle of it

A fellow writer said to me recently that she wants to write about the current situation, but is reluctant for a few reasons.

There is a sense that we're living through history that needs to be recorded, but also that in some ways we need to live through it before we can write reflectively about it. There are also a lot of sensitive toes that are easy to step on at the moment, probably a lot more than usual. Additionally there are so many threads running through this current season that it's hard to know even where to start to write much (though much is being written). Hence I didn't get to writing here last week, though I have been adding to a list of ideas to write about.

Despite the strangeness and difficulties, though, our weeks are running past relatively quickly and I've been busy enough to find that I'm tired each evening and certainly by the weekend. Indeed, I don't think I'm alone in finding these weeks and months tiring. There's been so much to adjust to and much to ponder. Just like when we first moved to Japan. Culture shock. New rules. Worries. Grief. It's not always easy to find ways to look after myself. Sharing so much of my day with two teenage boys isn't always fun. I'm glad I've got books to retreat to (I'm soooo thankful for the Kindle Fire I got for Christmas—who knew that would be so timely—and the library in Australia I get to borrow ebooks from).

This was one of the batches of biscuits that I made
for my friends. Australian and Lego biscuit cutters
made it extra fun to give them away to a
non-Australian family.

Over the weekend I indulged in baking, which is probably why I didn't find time to write on my blog, as I'd hoped to. As I wrote in this post late last year, baking is one of my loves. It's something that rejuvenates my soul. I've been doing a lot lately, as many people have. This weekend past I was blessed to have the time and resources to bake for others. I rarely have the time to do that in May, so this was indeed an opportunity. I was able to provide some home-cooked goodies to two families we are friends with. I'm please to say I've got enough flour to continue baking this coming weekend (are Japanese people baking more?). There's a Chocolate Zucchini cake I'm dying to try out again, as well as the ongoing search for the best brownie recipe.

Our weekends have been quiet these last couple of months. Actually quite pleasant, until you realise we've got very few events to look forward to. It's easier if I just focus on today, or even, this week, than try to think too far ahead. One way I make it through difficult seasons is to have what a certain psychologist calls "Lily Pads"—things to look forward to. Part of the challenge of this time is that so many of our lily pads have been shot out of the water. And the related challenge is that we don't know when we can start making plans again. It was fun this morning over breakfast to talk about hopes we have for 2024 (during our next home assignment)! Only God knows if they will come to fruition, but it was fun (and probably quite healthy) to dream about it.

On Saturday I actually hit a wobbly spot in the middle of baking when I realised that we were heading into "Farewell" season (here's one of my posts about this season in 2016). It is a difficult season any year, but this year it's going to be worse because much of it will not be done in person. One of my closer friends is leaving Japan next month and not coming back in the near future.

I've been writing this blog post for a few days now and it's time to wrap it up while I'm feeling able to. Last night I only got about 5 ½ hrs broken sleep and I suspect that might hit hard later today or tomorrow. 

Our 11th grade son had a calculus exam in our dining room at 3 am! It's another flow-on effect from COVID-19. Many American and American-flavoured international schools offer college-level subjects called AP. These subjects cost extra and have a single external exam. Doing well on them gives you college credit at American institutions and, I presume, bragging rights on their applications; but merely helps with increasing your tertiary admission rank (and also can function as prerequisite subjects for some courses) for Australian students. Usually these exams take place in very controlled environments, but they have been modified this year and take place in student's homes at a single time across the world. Of course in an American-centric way, so that all students in this part of the world are faced with doing it in the early hours of the morning. No idea how they stop kids cheating, but that's not my problem. Anyway, though I wasn't downstairs with my son, I couldn't sleep (something about a mother's heart).

I generally don't do well with sleep deprivation, but I think that I've been getting more sleep than usual lately (no long Saturdays at Track meets and getting up a little later because my husband doesn't have to be at school by 8am). So I'm not feeling too bad so far. We've got one more exam on Friday, but it's 5 am, not 3 am. And I write "We" deliberately, because this is bigger than just something our son is doing, with ¾ of the household losing sleep last night!

But back to the idea that reflecting on what's going on right now is hard, not the least because there is a lot of fluctuation intermingled with a lot of same-ness. But I'm reminded of a book I re-read recently: My Seventh Monsoon by Naomi Reed. She writes about different seasons in her life up till that point, but then when she got to where she was when she was writing she said, "It can indeed be a joy to look back and see the way God works through seasons . . . The much harder task is to live within the season 'right now.'" 

A couple of pages later she wrote:

"The stories from this new season are worming their way out, wanting to be told . . . waiting to be told. But it's me. I'm not ready to tell them yet. . . I can't tell the stories until the season is done. Why can't I? I think it's because I don't know how it will end up. I don't know how long it will go on for. I do't know what I will make of it at the end. Or what I will have learnt. Or how I will have emerged. Without the perspective of time, it's very difficult to know. it's very difficult to live in the season right now. . .  

Right in the middle of a season, we just don't know. We can't neatly define, we can't neatly wrap up, and we can't neatly expound. All we can do is live. And in the living, we grow and we learn, we enjoy and we cry, we struggle and we rejoice. We do it right now, without knowing what's around the corner . . .without knowing what will come out of it." (Chapter 16).

I think that summarizes how I feel. All I can do is live right now, and in the living will grow and cry, and struggle, and rejoice.

Thoughts from Tokyo

So, things are a-changing. And rather rapidly. We've been watching this Corona virus for weeks now. Our mission has been sending us updates since January (our mission works in many Asian countries, so makes sense). We've seen colleagues in other countries have schools shut down, have borders closed, and other measures. Now it's happening in our backyard.

Meanwhile, Spring is on its way in!

Japan's Prime Minister made a surprise announcement yesterday, recommending that schools shut down until the end of the school year in a couple of weeks.

Of course, that's a red flag to society: if the top political leader thinks schools should be shut, then things seem very serious. So lots of other things are shutting or being cancelled too. And people are stocking up in the shops. 

I usually shop on Fridays, and today sought out the toilet-paper aisle to test my theory: that toilet paper is the litmus test in Japan for "panic buying". People in Australia might stock up on bread and milk but in Japan it's toilet paper! We saw the same in 2011. I learnt from that time, though, and keep a stock of the stuff in our house. I also learnt from previous flu epidemics here to keep a stock of masks in our house. I've also got other staple supplies—we live in the land of earthquakes, it makes sense to be prepared!

Comparison with March 2011

Which brings me to what my brain was doing at 5am this morning: comparing this event with the aftermath of the triple disaster in March 2011.

This event brings that experience to mind, not just because of the shopping and school shutting—yes, our school is shutting. We're looking down the barrel of three weeks of distance education. I know the teachers will try hard . . . but I'm not so sure about the students. I'm prepared to be surprised. Thankfully they've had today to lay out their expectations for the students. I've just received an email suggesting students start work at 8.30, not sleep in. That's helpful!

But 2011 comes to mind for deeper reasons. I think it's the fear. The disaster, if you don't recall, went like this: earthquake which caused several giant tsunamis that inundated a nuclear power plant north of Tokyo. There was a lot of fear at that time. Lots of people struggled with overwhelming anxiety and stress. Lots of foreigners evacuated Japan. It got to be that every time I looked at social media or checked email, another of our friends or colleagues had left (and the kicker was—without saying goodbye).

So instantly we see how this virus situation is very different, but also similar. There has been warning—today they've had time at school to prepare—and evacuation isn't a great option at this point. We aren't getting constant aftershocks that disturb our sleep and rock our emotions. We aren't wondering if there's going to be another one soon. We aren't labouring under the realisation that many thousands have already lost their lives suddenly.

However, the fear is there and the misinformation (or merely exaggeration) is being freely shared. 

This is what I created yesterday to go with the basic update
on OMF Japan's social media

Another similar factor is that it can be stressful to talk to other people. Everyone, I've discovered, has a different threshold in this sort of situation. Some immediately go into "panic" mode, others are more laid back; some research every morsel they can find, some like to speculate about what the politicians aren't telling us. In some ways it's easier just to stay at home and stay off social media.

But I'm a social media manager, so the latter is hard! Yesterday I had to do what I've been avoiding, and face this straight on, researching facts and putting together an update post for our mission. It didn't come out as scary as I thought it would (although the conspiracy theorists will be quick to tell me that we aren't being told everything).

How I'm doing

I've found it hard to concentrate today, that's another common feature with 2011. With such turmoil, it is hard to focus, and focus is what I need to do to keep up with the deadlines that keep marching across my desk. That's going to be challenging in the coming weeks too with the rest of my family at home, in "my" office.

I also must say that I'm relieved that, at this point, the two big events next week that I've been looking forward to are still going ahead: a two-day women's retreat and a writer's retreat next weekend. The latter I've put quite a bit of work into organising and it made me feel very uncomfortable earlier this week to consider that that might not be possible.

It was also reassuring to go out this morning and do a simple thing like get a hair cut. That simple act, seeing real people doing ordinary things, was very grounding and encouraging. 

But ultimately I need to ground myself in the eternal reality. That our times are in God's hands. That he is not surprised by anything that's going on here. And that ultimately, whatever changes come our way, he never changes.

5 

5 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 honor depend on God[c];

    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. (Psalm 62 NIV)

Fighting frustration

I'm trying to sort through what's going on in my head. Most days this week I've felt lethargic and unmotivated. I'm not sure if that's been my body fighting a bug off, or if it's emotional. Possibly both. But I've been trying to write this blog post for days, and I'm not getting much clarity. If anything, I'm more frustrated today than when I began.

Earlier this week we had student-led conferences. I presume other schools have things like this, but I'd never heard of it before I came here. It is a time at the start of second semester, where they get the students to look at how first semester went and make goals for second semester. The goals can be anything from academic to more general self-care (like exercise and sleep). Then the parents are called in to hear what the students have to say (with no teacher intervention). I find it's even more frustrating than being asked to set my own goals. At least then I have some control over whether I work to meet those or not. Alas, looking at your teenager make goals is a very different affair. First it raises your hopes, then, if they don't make an effort towards that goal, your hopes are dashed. And you're left, not just wondering What's the point? but What role should I play here? How much should I get involved?

So, I'm frustrated. And not just in parenting, also with myself.

Some days I feel like I'm plodding along. Just putting one foot in front of the other, hoping I'll get something done, but also beating back the frustration at not being able to work faster or with more enthusiasm.

And then my ADHD tendencies pop up. There's so much that I want to do, yet there's seemingly not enough time, nor enough energy.

Looking up: that's what I need to do. But not at a light!

But that fire that wants to do too many things still burns quietly. This week:

I want to race through my work.
I want to read the riveting book I've just gotten into.
I want to play Scrabble (and watch crime shows, and generally hang-out) with my husband.
I want to sleep!
I want to have a deep, texting conversation with a friend.
I want to get more exercise.
I want to understand more Japanese.
I want to bone up on my understanding of writing and editing (I am in the middle of both a book and an online course).

[And that's just keeping it small. Never mind about the millions dying because they can't get access to clean water—I'm not being trite here, this fact was in my prayer material this morning and I just felt an overwhelming frustration at how little difference I can actually make in this world.]

These are all fine desires, but keeping them in balance is challenging and sometimes I find myself dashing from one thing to another, not really completing anything. Or even wasting time on things that are definitely optional and not on my list above.

It's an ongoing battle, one, I suspect, that I'm not going to win in this world. I will never get enough books read, spend enough time with loved ones, or have enough rest. I will never learn Japanese well enough to be satisfied, or be as fit or as thin as I could be.

However, in the midst of what's becoming a long missionary career, I'm learning (ever so slowly) to be content with plodding. To deliberately take regular breaks—big and small. In my job, that especially has come to mean communication breaks. It means that I rarely look at email after dinner and weekends are also mostly email-free. I've tried to increase that pace, on occasion, and it usually ends badly.

So I'm torn. I plod, yet parts of me want to soar. Why all the dissatisfaction? Is it just personality defects? Or is this a deeper spiritual problem? Or is it just a fact of life, living in a broken world as a broken person?

I'm not sure. I actually suspect it's a combination of all of that. God made me with a wide range of interests and a lively mind, so I tend to jump from thing to thing (makes for challenging conversation, sometimes). God made me with a caring heart and a sensitive soul that tax my limits to help others. But like most people, he's also given me various responsibilities, and physical limitations (the need to take time to rest and recuperate, plus a few more individual limits). I should be longing for heaven: where none of that will limit me.

Trying to conclude this blog post has drawn me back to the book Awe by Paul Tripp again. It's hard to find something succinct to quote here, but I'll take this portion from a chapter that starts by quoting the whole of Isaiah 40 (which is also worth a slow-read, for perspective adjustment):

So pray right now that God would grace you with the desire and strength to get yourself up out of that dark basement and into the comforting and encouraging light of his existence and glory, and believe that you can fly. Not because you understand, are appreciated, or are in control, but because God controls all things, because he is glorious, and because by grace he is all that he is for you. (p144)