Looking back at 2023

Ever since I stared writing here in 2009, I’ve been using this blog to reflect on the year just lived. For the last five years I’ve been using the same set of questions. These questions push me past the surface reflections, so they aren’t easy, but it’s a good exercise that I enjoy. They aren’t about what I’ve achieved in the year. I hope they might be a springboard for you to think about your own year too.

Christmas Day on the beach 2023

1. What makes this year unforgettable?

Some big changes this year for us mean this year will be a noteworthy year for the rest of our lives: 

• Our youngest son finished high school, that’s a huge milestone for our family after 20 years of children at school.
• We moved out of the house we’ve spent the most time in for our whole marriage, the house that our youngest son started kindergarten from.
• It wasn’t just a simple move, this move included downsizing and storing stuff for our year away from Japan.
• The move also marked the end of our younger two sons’ time in Japan. In July they moved to Australia with the intent of staying here, at least in the medium term, which is a huge change, considering one of them was born in Japan and the other moved there when he was less than three months old.

2. What did I enjoy doing this year?

We have just celebrated Christmas with both our birth families. It’s really different doing this with older kids, it was much calmer and more enjoyable than in times past.

It’s been enjoyable seeing our three sons, who are now all 18 and over, getting to know one another as adults. Being together in the same region for several months has been wonderful. Parenting is hard work and long work—it’s very satisfying seeing some reward for all the years of effort you’ve put into them as you watch them gain confidence and skills as they grow much more independent.

It’s been enjoyable spending more time with David these last few months. We’ve enjoyed lunches and occasionally other meals on our front deck in Ipswich (a beautiful view). Three weeks Perth without children was an interesting adventure that involved both work and play. It was fun to see glimpses of what’s not very far in our future, but that is really next week’s blog post.

I enjoyed watching my youngest son as he powered his way through the school’s wrestling season undefeated. After many years of injury interrupting his participation in this sport, I really didn’t expect him to do it at all, and then to achieve as well as he did was very satisfying. He went on from there to do really well in shot put and discus in the track and field season too. 

Going to two women’s retreats—one in March in Japan and one in October in Australia—with close friends was definitely enjoyable.

3. What/who is one thing/person I'm grateful for?

Of course I can’t limit it to just one person or thing. I’m grateful to a handful of precious friends who’ve walked alongside me this year. It’s not been an easy year and I’ve leaned on friends, not to mentioned David, heavily to stay afloat.

4. What did I read/watch/listen to that made the most impact this year?

I’ve read more than 100 books again this year, more in the second half of the year than the first. Undeceptions podcast continues to be a thought-provoking listen, though I haven’t listened to as much of that in the second half of the year with less alone time than I usually get in Japan.

Here are some of the books that made an impact

Trusting God by Jerry Bridges

Being Mortal by Atul Gawande

Sacred Siblings by Sue Eenigenberg and Suzy Grumelot

When God Doesn’t Answer Your Prayer by Jerry Sittser

5. What did I worry about most and how did it turn out?

There were many things that I worried about this year, including who to hand my work over to so we could leave Japan for a year and how we would find somewhere to live in Australia (the latter being a big concern because everywhere we turned people were telling us of horror stories about the rental crisis in Australia).

I split my jobs into multiple parts and handed them over in late May and early June. That part worked so well that I ended up with extra time to do preparation for work in Australia that I hadn’t planned for. Both of the publishing projects I managed (Japan Harvest magazine and OMF Japan’s social media) have continued onwards, so I guess I did okay in handing them over. But I know it wasn’t easy for those who have taken extra things on in my absence. It helped to remember that we had important work to do in Australia, even if I didn’t really want to make the effort to get there.

Our accommodation story is a lot easier to tell. We got a house really quickly, with the on-the-ground assistance of a lady from our home church who we’d never met in person. It’s been a really good find, with very little we can fault. Great landlords; beautiful, convenient location; and functionally just right. We also have all the furniture we need, including a large TV and fabulous fridge.

6. What is my biggest regret?

This is always a hard question. I think I regret all the time I spent worrying about the future. It’s a bad habit that is hard to break, and even now I’m struggling not to worry about the first half of 2024.

7. What's something that has changed about me?

I’m no longer the parent of a school-aged kid. I’m also no longer in my 40s. I’m also on the verge of having all my kids move out of home.

I feel more and more that I am a writer and editor and more often when pressed will describe myself as such these days.

8. What surprised me most this year?

Probably my answer to #5 covers a good portion of this. 

But in addition, I’ve been surprised this last week. I’ve been surprised by how “adult” all my boys have been. In the middle of last year we did a similar “tour” without the Christmas celebrations and extra family time thrown in, and it was much harder. They’ve all grown in maturity, which is a great joy to see in what amounts to a stressful situation (travel, sharing rooms, lots of people, many unspoken expectations, lack of routine etc.). Over the years of raising our kids, visiting family in Australia has always been stressful for a few reasons: they’ve rarely seen their Australian relatives, it always involves significant travel, they aren’t in their own environment and Australia was never really “home”, and they were energetic boys (the first grandsons on both sides). Maturity has helped a lot and that meant that this time around I didn’t have to spend much time at all being their advocates or working to keep the peace.

The other big surprise was quickly finding a government-funded program that accepted our neurodiverse son which has helped him do employment readiness and help him find a job (the end of that story is yet to be written, but we’re hopeful).

9. What Bible truths impacted me this year?

In the latter half of the year, reading Trusting God has been significant. I dipped my toe in with some ladies from church in a Bible study (when I could get there), then read it from front to back on my own. The book takes you back to basics about God’s sovereignty and love, and confronts you about how you live in light of these truths.

10. What meta-themes have I thought about this year? (in no particular order)

• Transition
• Aging
• Women and their roles (especially within Christian circles) and non-romantic relationships between Christians (see Sacred Siblings book).
• Whether God’s leading us to stay in Japan after 2023 (we think he is).
• Life with grown kids who don’t live at home anymore.
• Disability support in Australia.
• Downsizing.
• How Japan Harvest is produced and how that can be done with me less involved.

Highlights

• Our youngest finishing high school, especially his athletic achievements, but also seeing his persistence in working hard academically and the great friendships he had the privilege to be part of.
• All-Japan OMF conference in June was both exhausting and wonderful.
• Writing a series of six articles about the process of preparing for and going on home assignment for the US branch of our organisation, and also recording a discussion with a colleague about the same topic. All of this was published mid-year online.
• Being able to watch a lot of cricket, especially watching Australia unexpectedly win the semi-final and final of the one day international cricket World Cup (which involved staying up way past my usual bedtime twice in one week). Making it to two cricket matches in-person.
• Going to a symphony orchestra performance in person for my birthday.
• Visiting Rottnest Island in WA.
• Speaking at a women’s conference and “losing it” onstage as I tried to speak briefly about the long-term griefs that cross-cultural workers encounter. I put this as a highlight because, while it was very hard to do, it was true to myself and my desire to show others how ordinary missionaries are. But the other reason it’s a highlight is that the response was overwhelming, in a positive way. I had many conversations afterwards with women who understood (and were glad to hear someone tell this unspoken story), had their eyes opened, or who wanted to learn more.
• I think my blog post that got the most attention this year was “Neurodivergence and missionary families”. Maybe this doesn’t belong as a “highlight”?
• Camping in late March was lovely, unfortunately we’ve not be able to manage any other camping trips in 2023.

Lowlights

• Moving—I really don’t like moving, never have. And the anticipation of moving is almost as bad as the move itself.
• Watching our sons pack up their lives in the place they’ve grown up and say goodbye to friends and Japan.
• Walking alongside our son as he negotiated medical and other difficulties, and then trying to figure out how to help him start to forge a life in Australia.
• Exhaustion. We’ve been able to really slow down in the last couple of months of the year and have realised how much toll the past few years have taken on us (obviously culminating in a huge, stressful transition). It’s been hard to have less structure and purpose in our days, but also to realise that our energy levels weren’t what we were used to either.

Other thoughts

This category is for other things that don’t really fit anywhere else…

This year I was invited to join a couple of groups of women who are all mums of kids with various types of disability. Most of them live in Japan (or have spent significant time there) and many of them are expats. One group is mostly Christians and the other is not. I’ve only met them a handful of times, but the depth of connection is quite remarkable. I wrote a bit about this under the subheading “Being heard” in this blog post in February.

Ultimately, I’m glad 2023 is over. It contained big highlights, but also big milestones and a lot of hard work and exhaustion. It’s encouraging to look back and see how God has sustained us and provided for us through it all.

In the second blog post I wrote this year I quoted Psalm 103, and I think it’s a good place to finish. Here is some of what I wrote in January:

“There are lots of nuggets in [Psalm 103] to ponder. Just now I'm leaning into these phrases: "Your youth is renewed like the eagle’s" (v. 5 NIV) and "As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust. The life of mortals is like grass, they flourish like a flower of the field; the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more" (vv. 13–16).

Resident missionaries at a high school camp

A few day ago we came home from another camp. We spent four days in Samford Valley, just north-west of Brisbane. This one was a high school camp comprising mostly of youth groups from Presbyterian churches in north Brisbane. There were more than 70 campers. It was a fun camp where we were the official missionaries-in-residence. 

We got to run three 1.5 hour sessions over three days. The first one was for everyone, the other two were electives. 

We got to do our classic: divide the group into four and rotate between four different activities. My job during the rotations was to teach them how to fold an origami balloon: which was pretty challenging when you realise I had just 10 minutes and over 20 people in each group. David taught groups the Japanese words to go with Rock, Paper, Scissors game and one of the four groups learned how to play the "Jan-Ken-Poi train game". We had another missionary who came along to help, ran a chopsticks relay, and they were on their own with instructions on how to run a Japanese slipper relay.

With such generous amounts of time, we got to share quite a lot of stories, especially the story of how we came to be missionaries in the first place, one that originates back in the late 70s. And we spent time on our central theme: missionaries work in teams (at least those in our organisation do). We don't all spend all our time doing church and evangelistic ministry, but we help one another with lots of practical tasks that people don't often think about that are necessary for ministry overseas.

The hidden value of a camp is that you get to talk to people at all sorts of other times too. For example, over a bowl of cornflakes I got to answer the question: So what's helped you stay in Japan for so long? While eating sticky date pudding and ice cream I got cornered by a bunch of older teenage boys who wanted to know about street evangelism in Japan. So many questions: What food do you miss when you're in Japan, and when you're in Australia? How did you meet? Do you enjoy being a missionary? What's your favourite ice cream in Japan? Which convenience store has the best fried chicken (obviously from someone who's spent time there)?

But all this interaction is exhausting. I didn't get to join in all the fun activities because I was so tired, especially at the start of camp (strangely...I think partly due to sleeping badly the first night). We left after dinner on Wednesday night, the day before the camp ended. Yesterday I was fairly blotto. David came and helped me do grocery shopping (on his birthday). Today I'm feeling better, but I'm thankful we have a quiet weekend in front of us, and several days before we're speaking again (next Thursday).

Bush!

The other fascinating aspect of camp for me was that, while we didn't know many people, we had common connections with quite a few. Though we are no longer members of the Presbyterian Church of Queensland (the denomination running the camp), during the first 21 years of my life I went to two of the biggest Presbyterian churches in Queensland. There were a number of other common connections as well, mostly from our university and young adult years.

This camp was not under canvas, but rather we were in cabins. It was in a part of Queensland that we've never been before, a gorgeous large scout-owned site! I'm so glad we went. Most people start to consider mission as something they can get involved in when they are young. Having the opportunity to talk seriously to high schoolers about mission was an incredibly valuable opportunity. Surely more valuable than them just seeing us speak one-time for less than 10 minutes at the front of their church. Only God knows what the long-term effects of our time with these campers and adults will be. 

Campfires every night, with marshmallows on sticks. No s'mores.

This was a fairly central quiet corner of camp: the verandah on the side of 
the main meeting area. I retreated here a couple of times when my voice
and ears were tired!

In case you've never seen one: a paper origami balloon. At least one person 
began this activity saying, "No way, that doesn't even seem possible."

I didn't get the timing right for a full-on sunset, but this was close on the first night.

Culminating events

Before we came to the Christian Academy in Japan in 2005 I'm pretty certain I'd never heard the phrase "culminating events". I'm not even sure if we had a phrase when I was growing up that collectively described the various events that happen at the end of a school year.

In any case, last week we were in the middle of culminating events at school, and, of our last son graduating from high school. The week looked like:

Monday—last day of classes

Tuesday—final assessment in the form of a formal presentation about his year-long project about mental health and exercise in adolescents. The audience was a panel of two teachers, plus around 10 middle and high school students. We, his parents, were also invited.

Wednesday—parent-organised banquet for seniors and their parents (plus siblings in some cases).

Thursday—graduation rehearsal and farewell parade through the school in graduation gowns and caps.

Friday—graduation before a gathering of about 400 people in the school gym. 

Tuesday was full of emotion as we watched our youngest child finish his last assessment. It was all over by 9.30 a.m. and I came home, not quite ready to start work, so I made a cake. Emotional cooking? It was very satisfying to do, and we've all enjoyed the fruits of it.

Photo by Megumi Nakazawa

Wednesday night was the school's traditional banquet, organised by a small group of mums. We got dressed up and took the trains downtown to a Brazilian BBQ restaurant. The meal was spectacular: all-you-can-eat meat cooked in a rotisserie, plus an amazing salad and dessert buffet, plus soft drinks and juice. Of note for some were the whole pineapples, also cooked in the rotisserie. It was a late night, however. We travelled home on crowded trains between 10 and 11 (yes, Tokyo trains at that hour, mid-week, is a sight to be seen). I only got five hours sleep that night.

Thursday was quiet for parents, but the students spent the afternoon at school, rehearsing for graduation and doing a final walk-through of the school (dressed in graduation gowns and hats). Parents were left to their own devices, which for me meant making final decisions on the Summer issue of the magazine before it went to the printer, as well as editing work on the next one, the Autumn issue, plus work on social media posts for the upcoming weeks.

Friday was an emotional day. I tried to fill in the morning with tasks that needed doing but didn't need too much brain. We had significant rain all day and through the night, maybe as much as 200mm, so there were no lovely photo opportunities in the school's lovely courtyard. Also, because there is only a small car park, we walked to school (as usual). I'd already thrown away my rain boots, so I wore sneakers and socks, changing into my black flats when I got there. It was an emotional afternoon as we watched our last child walk across the stage, finishing high school.

The emotions are mixed, mostly happy, but also sad as our son says goodbye to good friends and a place that's been like a home-away-from-home all his life. 

I also think back to the last time we did this, two years ago. The differences are stark: last time was in the middle of the pandemic, so we were masked and sitting in little "islands" apart from one another, and the only people there were the graduating students and their parents, staff who didn't have a specific job stayed home. It had also been many many months since I'd been in a room with that many people, so it felt very odd. This time anyone could come (though the weather held back many, we suspect), so all the staff were there, as well as a number of other students and parents and community members. Though I felt there is another subtle difference that's resulted from the pandemic: there weren't actually many people I knew. I think that's a hole that's partly come from not having community events for a couple of years.

The other difference is much more personal and harder to write about in a public place like this. Our sons are very different in personalities and their journey through high school has been markedly different. Some of that is related to mental health and neurodivergence. Last time significant social anxiety was a very big unseen presence that came along to graduation with us and made just getting through the ceremony a big deal, and one that didn't garner any medals or plaques.

But now we're all quite tired, socially and emotionally. I've come down with a miserable cold and am struggling to get through the brain fog to continue working on my to-do list for this week.

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?

Pondering COVID's impact on life and ministry

One of my jobs with our mission's social media is to come up with media posts, especially the text-parts. That sounds easier than it sometimes is. Our goal is to raise awareness of the need of the gospel in Japan and getting people more involved, which is a bit different to how most of us use our personal social media accounts. I guess it's a close relative to "marketing".

We use a monthly theme to help fuel our creativity. Some themes are easier than others. Next month's theme is "How COVID has impacted life and ministry in Japan". That sounds like a good theme . . . but how did we find engaging content for that? 

Our team met early last week and brainstormed. One of my ideas was to do a short survey of our missionaries. But putting feet on that is harder than I thought. This afternoon I found some space to think about what I'd actually ask people. I shifted some ideas into a draft survey format, and then I have moved away to other things (like this). 

That is my usual way of operating with creative things: it's how I write, and edit, as well as work on tasks like this. Letting an idea drift around in my brain while I do other things is a brilliant way to find my way forward. I hate it when someone asks me to do "live editing" at a meeting. I prefer to read something and let it sit for a while before I do anything with it, and even when I do start to work on it, I want to do it without an audience, I want to play around with ideas in my head (and on the screen) before I decide anything. Actually, it's how I do shopping too. I hate shopping with (most) other people, I need space to think about options and decisions.

But anyway, what do I ask missionaries about how COVID has impacted their life and ministry?

My own ministry hasn't been majorly impacted by COVID. I worked from home and online for years before everyone else was doing it. The biggest impacts COVID had were more personal things like the inability to travel to see family in Australia (and them unable to come here) and watching my boys suffer as they lost opportunities and had to deal with online classes. 

Wearing masks hasn't been my favourite thing, but I've been able to avoid much of that as I work at home. 

Emotional distress probably rates fairly highly too. We've just passed the two-year anniversary since one of our young friends lost her battle with depression and died by suicide. We've had our own mental health battle in our own household during the pandemic and because I was isolated from good person-to-person contact with people for months at a time, I've found it difficult at times to find ways to interact with others and know how to talk about my own struggles. I wonder if I've gotten worse at "small talk".

Life is getting back close to normal now, though attendance in-person at our church is still lower than it was pre-pandemic. And we are still wearing masks indoors and in crowded public spaces in Japan. There is talk that next month the government recommendation for wearing masks will be lifted, but we wonder what that will look like. Life in Japan is very influenced by not causing discomfort for other people, and will not wearing masks create problems?

I can identify some positives that came about due to COVID: regular walking and talking with David. And the acquisition of a stand mixer (given it by a missionary who had to leave). Also, the increased tendency of people to have some meetings online and thus meaning less time is taken up with travel, even some opportunities to meet online with folk who we'd never otherwise have done so because we all live so far from one another.

But back to my question: What would you like to know about how COVID has impacted life and ministry for missionaries? If you are a missionary, what would you like others to know?

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. 

Trying to feel fully settled again

A cross-cultural friend I know in Japan asked me this week: "Do you feel fully settled back in at home?"

The last "nature" I soaked up in Australia 
before we flew back earlier this month.

My answer: Yes, and no. 

Yes, I'm doing all the things I usually do when I'm here, and it feels fairly normal. I'm even baking!

But no, my head still feels a little like it hasn't quite turned the page. Being in Australia was good, but it was unsettling. It stirred up longings to be with friends there, and for things that are so easy to do there, but a little bit harder here. That is, I'm a little bit homesick. I'm also still processing the various things that happened there, which is also a bit unsettling. But I'm continuing to go through the motions and hopefully my mind will catch up soon.

Also "no" because I've arrived in the middle of things. The school year has already started for my husband, and youngest son. 

Plus it's our son's last school year. Therefore our last year with a child at school! I'm terrible at not thinking ahead on these things (I spent a long time anticipating him starting school, kicking off my "all the kids at school" phase after ten years of having little kids at home all day, every day.) 

This is even more momentous because this is not just the end of being school-parents, but also the end of life in Japan with kids in our home. We're going on home assignment in late July next year for twelve months. Prior to that we will move out of the house we've lived in since our youngest started school in 2010. We will be downsizing significantly because when/if we come back to Japan, it will be without offspring. We will be empty nesters and will move into a smaller apartment.

That's a lot of big change, and it's on my mind, and unlikely to completely disappear out of my consciousness as we walk through a lot of "lasts" in the next year. So, I may not completely settle down for many months, even though my suitcase is completely unpacked and put away.

But again, what can I do? I will walk through the daily and weekly routines, trying to ground myself in the now and be as settled and present as I can.

How can God help me with this? Here are some thoughts from this blog post.

1. Take time to focus on God. "Fix your eyes on Jesus" (Heb. 3:1) and "set our minds on things above" (Col. 3:2).

2. Be content. Paul tells us he learned to be content (Phil. 4:11). I'm still learning this, but I think part of it is taking the time to be thankful, and telling God (1 Thess. 5:18).

3. Continuing to be prayerful. Starting every day with prayer, and turning to God in prayer more regularly through the day (Col. 4:2).

4. Remember God's exhortations to be strong and courageous (e.g. Joshua 1:9).

5. Think about others, don't get wrapped up in myself. Love others! (1 Cor. 16:14)

6. Trust God with the future (Psalm 25:1).

I'm preaching to myself!

What do you struggle with when you're facing big change that you know is coming?

What's Wendy been up to?

So, what’s been happening in our edge of ordinary? A few things!

It's hydrangea season. We get to look at
this every day outside our lounge window.

School finished

I guess that qualifies as interesting news? Our middle son graduated on Friday, so for the first time in many years we’ll have just one child at school, and he’s only got two years left. Empty nesting is just around the corner!

Our middle son isn’t sure what’s next, so we’ve also walked into a period that holds a lot of uncertainty. Over the last several months we’ve agonised over this, but I think we’re at a place now that we’re a bit more comfortable with the uncertainty.

Being married to a teacher, also means that from now he starts to wind down. Our family holidays start in just under four weeks, so the next few weeks I’ll be busy preparing to walk away from work for that time (it’s especially tricky taking holidays when you’re involved in time-sensitive work like social media, but I’m committed to taking a break).

Uncertainty in Japan

We sit, not just with personal uncertainty at this point, but societal uncertainty. Tokyo (as well as several other prefectures) are still under a state of emergency, at least until June 20. Who knows if that will continue? We've been under SOE since the start of the year, barring three weeks in spring. Additionally, there is the uncertainty surrounding the Tokyo Olympics. 

The former mostly affects us in terms of making summer plans. We’d love to book a camping trip or two, but facilities in Tokyo are closed and facilities outside of Tokyo are closed to those coming from Tokyo! We've got a couple of leads for private arrangements that might be doable, so watch this space :-)

The Olympics doesn’t affect us much, though we do still hold Paralympic tickets. It was very sad, however, to hear that the director of the accounting department of the Japan Olympic Committee jumped in front of a train the other day in an apparent suicide. Holding the Olympics is a contentious issue in Japan and those charged with making it go ahead are sadly saddled with a lot of stress.

Editing a novel

Yep, I've been copy editing a novel over the last four months. The only way I could fit that into my life was to do it on Saturdays, which wasn't ideal, and meant it took a long time. I estimate at least 60 hours. It's my first time to edit a long work of fiction (actually the first time to edit any lengthy book), so it took a while to find my feet. But I really did enjoy it. The author is a close friend and his reason for writing is similar to my reason for writing on this blog: to explain to others a less-than-common life experience that we've each lived. 

I think I also enjoyed having a long-term project during this pandemic that I could look forward to doing on weekends. When the state of emergency stretched on interminably and there wasn't much to look forward to on weekends, having a spare-time occupation like this was very therapeutic.

In some respects it was a lot easier than editing short, non-fiction articles, like I do at work. Because facts aren't set in stone, but also because a short article has to have a pretty tight structure and be a complete unit in itself. So I was able to edit much of it a lot faster in the end. Oh, and I had a very appreciative author, that always makes work much more enjoyable.

What's next? I don't think I'll be taking on another extra-curricular editing job for a while, I don't have a lot of spare time and editing once a week does tend to disrupt the flow, making it not the most efficient way of editing a longer work. But if someone had a paying job, I might consider it! 

However, it does open out the possibility of supplementing our income some time in the future, as editing is something that can be done part-time and from my dining room, wherever that is. Also writing coach is something else that is a possibility. It is good to have this experience under my belt now, and know that the skills I have gained from short-article fiction editing do transfer quite well, especially to copy editing. Developmental editing might be a bit more difficult (think: story arc, character development etc.)

As for long-term weekend projects? I'm thinking about maybe picking up a sewing project. We'll see.

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.

First day of school again

Yes, it's the first day of school . . . again. It's our third in 18 months. First last July in Australia, then when we returned here in January, and now, actually in sync with everyone else around us, going into a new grade at the same school the boys finished at in June. It's a small thing, but also a big thing!

I think that we're pretty much recovered from our six-months in Australia. You might be thinking: Wow, that took a long time! Well, it did. Longer than I subconsciously expected. I've said it many times—international moves are a big deal. Especially when that involves children, schooling, and jobs. It is not like taking a holiday.

I have not been able to share on this public blog some of the private struggles we had during our home assignment, but believe me when I say that some of them have had a long-term impact on us. I think that now we are in a much better place as a family now than we have been for some years. It is good and we are thankful. God has helped us persevere through some tough stuff, I'm teary now even thinking about it. But all praise goes to him, not us.

However, I started this post with the intention of writing about the start of school and something about the challenges of our holidays.

I have no first-day-of-school photo. Our boys are very much of the opinion at the moment that photos of them, particularly posed family photos, are a ridiculous idea. I've tried a couple of times to get family photos this summer and it simply hasn't produced anything that any of us would want to share with anyone.

You can guess, therefore, that the battle of the wills in our house is quite strong. It always has been. Perseverance (or stubbornness) runs strongly through all five of us. And as you might know or guess, stubborn teenagers are sometimes not fun to be around.

This summer the boys have not been shy in letting me know their true opinion of just about everything: my cooking, my habits, how I talk, move, breathe, eat. I think my driving has been relatively critique-free, and probably something else that I can't think of now. But sometimes my growing-thicker-by-the-day skin has worn thin. I've taken myself into "time out" in my room more than a couple of times.

The boys have been out of school since June 11. That's a long time! However, it hasn't really dragged.

Our youngest did two weeks of "Summer school", keeping him busy for five mornings and five afternoons. He's also had a maths booklet to complete, fairly sizable, but a good review of all of the maths done in grade eight (helpful as he missed half a year while in Australia and studied different topics in maths there).

Our middle son has had a part-time job mowing lawns at school and a missionary property. He has also spent time catching up on on-line school work that didn't get finished in Australia as well as doing an extra maths subject so that he can do five subjects of maths during his high school career, instead of four. The latter has taken hours almost every day in the last month, but also David's, as both a teacher and parent (i.e. physical presence helps with focus). There was procrastination involved, but speeding through a year's worth of maths in just five weeks is no small feat, even if you are good at the subject.

We had our eldest son here for about two weeks and then we went away for two weeks. Plus two camping trips either side of that holiday.

David was acting head of school for a few weeks while the HOS was overseas visiting family, so he only really had a short break from being at school.

My holidays pretty much only contained those days and weeks we were out of Tokyo. In fact, our holidays made the weeks surrounding them quite busy as I prepared to leave and then caught up when I got back.

I think I had somewhat grand ideas about the "summer holidays". Many half-formed ideas that didn't get any further. We did have a couple of movie nights with friends, one BBQ, and a couple of other social gatherings. While we were away we made a concerted effort to leave work behind. I didn't check email for two weeks straight! I did get a good start on my new cross-stitch project and did a lot of reading too.

But now it is over for another year. We head into the last four years of having boys at school. I'm looking forward to the predictability and stability of that because I know that there are big changes coming up. Four or so years until everyone leaves. That doesn't seem so far away.

For now, I'm enjoying the peace and quiet of having no one here. Not even so much the quiet, as my boys are often quite quiet. But the peace of mind in knowing that there are no critics watching me. No one I have to check with if I want to go out or urge onwards with their work. No one who will be upset with my choice of music. I can have lunch whenever I want, without stepping on anyone's toes. (Of course, homework is coming . . . but not during my daytime.) Ah, the freedom. And of course they are happy too: they get to be free of hanging out with the annoying "olds" day after day.

Crazy end-of-school year stuff

I’m feeling really quite exhausted today. Last night was the senior graduation at CAJ. Though I didn't have a graduate, this event doubles as a key time to catch up with a lot of people I haven't seen for some time and also to say some goodbyes. Always a bitter-sweet time. 

We must have had over 600 people in the gym last night after the ceremony at the "reception" or party. The biggest night of the year for the CAJ community. We got home after 10 and it took me well over an hour to quieten my spirit down enough to get to sleep, well after my usual bedtime.

This morning we had a Grade 8 family "picnic" lunch that turned into an inside picnic at the school cafeteria because of rain forecast. It was blessedly low-key and quite fun, a great way to quietly celebrate our graduating middle schoolers. (Yes, we've still got that coming up on Monday night.)

But when I walked into the cafeteria I almost walked out again straight away because it just felt like too much. I confessed my fatigue to another mum and she said she felt the same. So I offered to pick up some coffee from a local convenience store for us both, which helped a great deal!

This afternoon I've been finishing off the tail end of the Summer issue of Japan Harvest. I've just answered those last-minute questions that have arisen out of the 30-odd pages of proofreading that took up most of yesterday. Hopefully, we're able to send it off to the printer now and I can move on to the next one (proposals due Monday and I'm off on another editing adventure)!

This coming week is a crazy collection of celebrations and concluding school events, including two staff-spouse dinners, on top of my usual work. All good and important, but I think that my priority for the rest of the weekend should be rest so that I'm ready for it all.

A messy day

Today's been a messy day. It was one of those days that it's hard to get traction on anything. Here's how it went (please be patient, it is messy, after all).

As many of you know life as a family just gets more complicated as your kids get older. Mine aren't super social, so they're not off at other people's houses all that much, but they do do sport, and in this season that means wrestling training until after 6pm many nights. Thankfully we live close to school and I don't have to pick them up, and they can eat dinner pretty soon after they finish training.

I am one of those people who like to know what we're having for dinner ahead of time to save the mental angst of trying to figure out what I can make with what we have. So I have a simple menu plan for our evening meals (very simple, just a list of the days with the main evening dish written on it). This week I'd planned chicken wraps for tonight and our eldest agreed he'd like to make that (as part of his agreed household job of cooking one evening meal a week).

Then we discovered yesterday that tonight there were inter-school basketball matches at school in the evening. That meant that we maybe could buy dinner at school and support the seniors fundraising for their Thailand trip next year. It's become an enjoyable family tradition to do this as much as we can during the autumn and winter sporting seasons.

The other factor in figuring things out was one boy deciding that he wanted to go to the doctor (for acne that just isn't improving). 

Then are the other factors that have made planning a little tricky this week: 

1. Wrestling duals at CAJ on Wednesday night, which I'd planned to go to and most/all of the family with me.

2. Thursday is a public holiday (only relevant because doctors don't open on those days, CAJ has school that day).

3. We're going away Friday for a long weekend.

So, can you see, trying to figure it all out is like a jigsaw puzzle. What piece fits where?

This morning my questions were:

1. Is food being sold at school tonight?

2. When is the best afternoon to go with my son to the doctor? (Keeping in mind that you can't make appointments to see this doctor, you have to just turn up and take a number, and it is usually a long line).

3. When is the best night for our eldest son to cook dinner (keeping in mind that I'd already gotten the chicken out to defrost)?

At 9.30 this morning I thought I had it figured out: We would go to the doctor this afternoon, then have dinner at school tonight, and our son could cook dinner tomorrow night. I checked with the relevant boys and then informed everyone else (though one boy failed to look at his email and was clueless).

So I merrily went about my day as best I could.

8.30-10 A bit of email and catching up on other computer-work related things.

10-11.30 At school at a prayer meeting and touching base with David about our plans for the evening.

11.30-12.15 Rode to get groceries

12.15-1.00 Ate lunch

1.00-3.00 Computer work (editing, email etc.)

3.00 Headed out to the doctor

We got to the doctor and saw the above sign. The doctor's hours have changed and he's now closed on Mondays! Arggghhh.

Yes, I know, really just an inconvenience, not a big problem. But it took a while for my son and I to reformat our thinking and adjust what we were going to do next, not to mention refiguring the puzzle I've outlined above. I ended up going to a nearby department store and I wandered round a bit in the warm until I felt ready to go home (I did get a couple of pantry items that we needed).

One more piece of background to today: it has dropped down to winter temperatures. It was 6C at 8.15 when our boys left for school this morning, and hasn't risen a lot further than 10C. I haven't felt like going outside at all, all day! Inside is a bit better, but only if I'm in the dining/office/kitchen area. And it's back to feeling cold a lot of the time and the inconveniences of winter to go out: scarf, jacket, gloves, and hat/ear muffs.

Sigh. Sorry for my grumblings. I'm glad that I have the means to keep warm, God is so good to us. I really don't have any right to grumble. I'm just going through the transition of late autumn to early winter and never enjoy that transition in Tokyo.

If you're interested, here is how the rest of the afternoon panned out:

4.00 I rode home, bantered with boys (yes, they were in the mood) and had coffee.

4.15 Got on the computer, answered a couple more emails and started this post.

5.30 Walked to school for dinner with David (the boys all at at various later times at school)

6.15 Watched basketball.

7.30 Walked home and had a very hot shower to warm up.

And now I'm back at the computer, finishing off this blog post.

I know that this kind of scenario is played out in many houses every week. It's usually not so complicated, though knowing when to have dinner on the table is a bit tricky in this season.

I'm not fond of the messiness. In some ways it was easier when they were all home by 4pm and in bed by 7.30. Though what we've got now is more physical freedom, it takes more mental and emotional energy to do all the shuffling, negotiating, and coordinating. 

I am really thankful I'm not driving kids all around like I would be in Australia, though. It does make it a lot easier that we live really close to school. I'm also thankful that I have a flexible job that I do from home, and that I have a lot of control over my own schedule, so that isn't usually a big factor when it comes to dealing with the family. It does mean, though, that things I've planned are usually the first to go (for example, time at the gym).

But I've raved on long enough about this messy day . . . messy life. How much of a "messy" schedule are you willing to put up with? How do you cope?