Ordinary deeds are not so ordinary?

Many people don't think of missionaries as ordinary. I've blogged here for many years in an effort to show that I really am just quite ordinary. Somehow we put big titles on people that makes them seems greater than ordinary. It's not just us. If you say someone is an actor, or a rocket scientist, or an Olympian, or _____. There are plenty of other titles that you could put into that space that makes us go "Wow, that person is pretty special" and quietly to ourselves say, "compared to my very ordinary life".

Image by Thomas Mühl from Pixabay    

Somehow we attach great significance to these things and little significance to the more usual things. I read an article by Tim Challies this week about this, about how some dream of being rich, of being convinced they could do big things if they just had a lot of money. The author suggested we've got it all wrong. He suggests thinking on Galatians 6:2 "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfil the law of Christ" (NIV). 

Challies quotes John Stott's commentary on that verse: "To love one another as Christ loved us may lead us not to some heroic, spectacular deed of self-sacrifice, but to the much more mundane and unspectacular ministry of burden-bearing."

What does bearing one another's burdens look like in my life this week?

I had two single ladies at church separately tell me of their burning desire to be married. I listened and promised to pray for them. (And followed through on that promise.)

I had a friend confess that she's sad. She's had many goodbyes recently. I shared some of my own goodbyes and sadnesses with her and we commiserated with one another.

Another good friend told me and a mutual friend over a text-chat about some choices she has about how she spends her time, about her heart for a specific group of ladies at her church, and wondered if God was calling her to do something practical for them. We listened and promised to pray.

I had an unexpected opportunity to have dinner alone with a new-ish friend on Monday. She asked about my boys and kept asking and listening...I told her more than she expected to hear from that simple enquiry. I was blessed by being able to tell some of our story and to be amazed again at what's happened for us in the last few years.

Also on Monday (it was a huge day!) I had coffee with a colleague who told me he felt flat as a result of various events that are happening to others in his life. I listened, and prayed for him.

I simply hugged several people this week. This isn't usual in Japan, most of those happened at a mission event where I caught up with a few people I haven't seen in a while. I've also discovered a Japanese lady at church loves hugs and so I'm leaning into that.

These are just a few small examples of bearing one another's burdens. They aren't worth bragging about and I certainly don't deserve any accolades or applause. These are things that any of us can do wherever we are. What have you done this week that will go unnoticed and perhaps be forgotten by even yourself by the end of next month? (And no, you don't have to tell us, just think about it!)

Library, lamington, and love

Raspberry lamington that
one of the library assistants
gave me for helping them this week.
The school has an Aussie chef
in their cafeteria and he regularly
makes his own lamingtons for the students.
Yum!
For those who don't know: these
are Australian, in fact from
Queensland (though origin stories
differ as is common with food). They are
sponge cake chunks covered
on all sides with icing and coconut.

This week school started. It's a marker in our lives, even though I am not employed there and have no kids there, and David's already been back at work for nearly two weeks. I've enjoyed seeing CAJ-related friends over the last week. On Friday we had the staff-and-families dinner at school. On Monday I had lunch with a US friend who lived in Brisbane for a number of years. And then I went to school two days for an hour or so to help with shelving books in the library. They are understaffed at present (no librarian-teacher), so some help was appreciated. I always love spending time in a library and this one has been a special place for 20 years now! The social interaction was also fun. I love working at home, but sometimes it gets a little lonely.

At my desk I've been working with text and authors to get the next Japan Harvest magazine into the "Design phase". Sometimes this is easier than others. This time there have been some tough challenges that I'm still trying to find my way through.

As usual, I'm juggling the magazine work with the social media team work and in the background have other projects that are waiting on my finding some spare time and brain space.

My office is a great space, except in the midst of the worst of summer—it has no air conditioning or ceiling fan. When the days have been over 35 C for the last week or so, I've been able to funnel the air con from the main area down the hall to my office using a couple of standing fans. Yesterday I didn't start doing that until I got back from school at lunchtime and my office stubbornly remained over 30C until we had a fierce storm that cooled things off. I'm a Queenslander and don't mind low-30s too much if I'm just relaxing, but trying to get my brain to work on complex editing and writing matters when the room is stifling is hard. It's amazing how much clearer my head is at 28/29 C!

One of the exciting things this week has been to get some big details sorted for another social media team retreat. Venue and dates have been up for debate for a few months, but we've finally nailed that down and I can get to work on the finer details prior to our end-of-October retreat.

It's no surprise to you that I spend a lot of time reading. I read for pleasure and I read for work, if I'm on my own I read while I'm eating and while I'm relaxing. My work is in the space of mission and Japan, and my reading reflects those spaces. I also read to grow in my spiritual life. This week I saw a blog post called "More than enough" published by Thrive, a largely online ministry to Christian women working cross culturally. You can see it here: https://thriveministry.org/connection/devotional/more-than-enough2

One of the things I've struggled with in Japan is comparison. Actually I think it's a universal problem that women experience, but somehow doing what we do and where we do it, cross cultural workers end up with very high expectations of ourselves which we inevitably fail at. 

It's something that maybe I've gotten better at—I'm more comfortable in my skin now than I was 25 years ago...but still every now and then those cursed comparison thoughts shoot through my head and I feel useless and unlovely. So this little article was a good reminder. The author writes:

I stumbled upon John 15:9, that says, “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love.” The lightbulb clicked on. Jesus loves me the way the Father loved Him. I am loved completely, without surprise, without reservation, and without disappointment. I had no business comparing myself to anyone but Jesus. I would never measure up to the fake standards I could put on myself. But since God loves me, I could throw those standards away and rest in His love. 

"I have no business comparing myself to anyone but Jesus" and those standards I have set up are fake. I don't know who needs to be reminded of this today, but I did. And I need to go forward into the rest of the day resting in God's love!

Off my game, but seizing the day

It's been a weird week and I haven't been able to settle well to work that needs deeper concentration. The main thing to blame is my schedule. I started the week exhausted from Saturday when I helped run a wrestling tournament (and continued straight on to dinner across town with friends), and end the week nervous about the really long day tomorrow at another tournament a long way from home. In the middle of the week was a day hanging out with missionary women and a funeral of a church member, plus a mid-week wrestling event, all on different days. Add to that two other days with meetings, but not even long meetings! 

All that is enough to throw me off my game. I can sandwich some work in-between other things as well as the next woman, but I find that writing and editing longer or more difficult pieces of writing, takes more concentration and doesn't squeeze well between other things. So I generally chunk my schedule to help me work that way (ideally, two or three whole days in a week without any external events), but it just hasn't happened this week. Oh, and I've been struggling with headaches on and off too, which never helps concentration.

Next week looks better . . . I hope it lives up to that expectation.

But for now I want to tell you a little bit about the funeral. We arrived at church on Sunday to the news of a sudden death the night before of a 65-year-old church member who has quietly served his community and church for decades. He was not obviously Japanese, having American heritage, but his heart was clearly centred on Japan. He was born here and spent most of his life here teaching English. He served the church by simultaneously translating one of the services each week into English in his little booth at the back of the sanctuary, as well as proofreading the bilingual PowerPoint presentation. So many people have been blessed by his service over the years! His Japanese wife and mother-in-law were clearly distraught at the funeral yesterday. He hadn't been ill and died while doing something he loved: watching sumo at home.

It was a small funeral, which surprised us. But we were glad to be present, at this beautiful Christian, Japanese funeral, representing some of the many people who have been served by this humble, behind-the-scenes guy. There are so many funerals that I haven't been able to attend in the last few years, usually because of family responsibilities and distance. I'm sure there were some who wanted to be present at this one, but couldn't.

It's only the second funeral in Japan that my husband or I have attended. Before we came to Japan we were told about Japanese funerals, in particular, about the very strict dress code and the need to own "funeral clothes." It's all black, except the men get to wear white shirts with their black tie and women can/should wear pearls (but no other jewellery except wedding rings). I own very little black (and no pearls), as it just drains my already pale face of all life. And almost none of the black clothes I have are "winter weight". My heart's desire was to honour this man and his family, and not to draw attention by my foreign-ness and what I was wearing or not wearing.

Thankfully I managed to do that, all while not getting frostbite! But let's just say I was wearing a lot of layers under the appropriate black externals!

The service was very different to the Buddhist one I attended many years ago, indeed it was very similar to a worship service. I was taken by surprise by the open coffin where we were guided to lay flowers after the service, but as we aren't close to the family, we didn't stay long after the main service. To learn more about Japanese funerals check out this article I edited a while back.

It's sobering to think that this man was only about 15 years older than us. Truly, a funeral is a good place to get a reality check in our busy lives. I'm always grateful for my husband, but this was a good reminder to seize the day as often as I can.

The fairly spontaneous dinner we went to last Saturday was very much a case of "seizing the day". It wasn't wise, at the end of an exhausting all-day event, but it was a rare opportunity for three families who get along well to get together. And we had fun. I'm really glad we went. Taking time to appreciate those we love is so important. For those of us who have no family in-country it's even more important to invest time in friendships nearby. Just this week we've heard of an expat whose cancer journey has taken an unexpected turn, and another family we know whose overseas journey seems to have come to an end (they aren't returning from home assignment, though continuing to work with a mission). Seizing time with friends that God has given you to walk with this current week, month, year, is important in this life where things can change so quickly.

Margin: something I need, but also struggle with

Margin: it's something I've written about (e.g. https://mmuser.blogspot.com/2015/08/margin-in-life.html), but not always been good at doing. When I saw this blog post by Beth Bathelemy I was reminded again about margin. Not just how important it is, but why I struggle not just to keep it, but sometimes when I'm in that space of not-so-busy, I feel uncomfortable.

I ran into a quiet spot in my work on Friday
when I was basically waiting for other 
people to do stuff. Margin! So I rode to my
favourite local park for a couple of hours.

But first, what is margin? Beth shared this great quote by Richard Swenson:

“Margin is the space between our load and our limits. It is the amount allowed beyond that which is needed. It is something held in reserve for contingencies or unanticipated situations. Margin is the gap between rest and exhaustion, the space between breathing freely and suffocating.”

When I find myself without much margin in my days, things in our lives get compromised that shouldn't be. That can be important work matters, or it can be family, or not being able to help someone else. Without much margin my health suffers: I don't get exercise, or my eating gets sporadic and unhealthy, and because I'm the manager of our larder and maker of our evening meal, if I don't have much margin that spills over to affect everyone else in the family too. If I've overcommitted, I'm often not sleeping well and responsibilities that I have aren't being attended to. I can't pay as much attention to the people in my life if I don't have good margin and I begin to suffocate and let others down.

I thought I had plenty of margin at the start of August in Australia when I'd planned to start back at work after six weeks off. However, in that first week we had family drama as we had flights cancelled, then rebooked, and then an emotional farewell as half our family flew back to Japan. My middle son and I cleaned and moved into new accommodation, and had to adapt to living with another family. Plus we received a new diagnosis to add to the others our son already has. In the middle of all that I sat back at my editor's desk where a large amount had piled up in my absence. Then my throat and head started hurting and I started coughing . . . and it was COVID. All my margin was gone and it took weeks to get back to a place where margin was again in place. I had miscalculated, but also run into some large, unexpected things. And that's really partly what margin is for: to give room for the unexpected. It's just that, in this case, I didn't allow enough (and of course, it is not always possible to allow enough margin).

As a writer and creator I find I also need margin to think, to ponder, to reflect, and to write. The extroverted part of me struggles with that sometimes, but I'm generally happier and more balanced if I've had time alone to think.

However, I also grew up with a strong work-ethic instilled in me. So these words of Beth's also spoke pointedly, they echo some of the struggles I have when I'm not-so-busy:

Recently, however, familiar doubts crept back into my heart and mind. Am I doing enough? Will this read impressively in my newsletter? Is our ministry fruitful enough? And from this lowly place of insecurity, doubt, and discouragement, I forfeited my margin.

I think it's something that people in ministry struggle with especially. Usually we have a lot of drive, are conscientious, and feel the pressure of the overwhelming needs around us. Consider that we ourselves work in a land where less than 1% of people know Jesus and not many more than that have even heard of him. Plus, we live a little bit in a glasshouse: writing prayer letters every month, and responding regularly to a variety of other requests for information about how our ministry is going. All these things can pressure us to increase the load of what we do until we have nothing spare.

But Beth concludes with thoughts like these:

What if we were to put aside our ill-conceived, worldly perspectives on success and productivity? What if we rejected the false narratives of self-importance and worth based on accomplishment? What if we, like Christ, “self-empty” ourselves unto God?

These are good thoughts. I'm full of pride, I know. I measure my days according to how many things I've knocked off my to-do list. I like to think of myself as productive and useful, skillful and clever. What would it look like to move further away from all that?

I'm reading a short book right now by Timothy Keller called The Freedom of Self-forgetfulness.
Where I left the bookmark last night it says:

"So Paul does not look to the Corinthians for his identity. He does not go to them for the verdict that he is a 'somebody'. He does not get that sense of identity from them. But he does not get it from himself either. He knows that trying to find self-esteem by living up to a certain set of standards is a trap " (p. 28).

Paul and Keller exhort us to let go of the idea that we can get our identity from what others think of us, and even from living up to our own standards. We are loved by God. Not because of what we've done for him, but because of what he's already done for us.

Another book I've finished recently called Gentle and Lowly by Dane Ortlund says a similar thing. Christ loves us far more than we can comprehend, and our response should be to simply obey the invitation in Matthew 11:28: "Come to me."

But, on the other hand I've also realised that God has created us to both do and be. I'm still trying to balance that up, but I don't think this side of heaven I'll get it right. I can recount many times that I've been told or heard sermons or talks that said that we ought not to look at our schedules for our self-worth. But I also know that God tells us to do stuff. Yes, our primary worth is as a human being made by God, but we've been gifted with varying levels of strength and intellect, gifts and talents, wealth and opportunities. God calls us to DO stuff. Not because that's the way we earn his love, but because we love to serve him, but how easy it is to switch those two things!

So, how to live with these two things in balance? How can I be comfortable with "being", with dwelling in that space between my responsibilities and what my ultimate limit is? How can I fulfil my responsibilities without feeling that they add up to my worth, and therefore when I'm not "doing" I still have worth?

These are questions that I don't think I have an answer to yet. At the moment I'm being very careful about what I say yes to, beyond my usual responsibilities. I know that just under the surface lurk things that tap my energy, and often they are difficult to predict. Some days I just feel overwhelmingly tired by 8pm and struggle to get up in the morning, for no discernable reason. I also know, looking ahead, that we've got some big transitions next year that will take a lot of energy.

So, I'm moving ahead, walking tentatively and keeping my eyes on Jesus, rather on my own nervous, flaky self. And surrounding myself with people and habits that will correct my course when it goes astray.

An age-old question: "Am I Okay?"

I found this encouraging blog post "Am I okay?" three and a half years ago, in the midst of a traumatic series of months in our lives. I didn't get around to posting about it here, but it is as relevant now as it was then.

As I've written honestly here, I've often had reassurances that, "You're okay." From friends, but also from God. 

All I need to do it look at my Bible to be reassured that, though God knows more about me than anyone here on earth, He will not fail to love me.

Psalm 139:1-2 
You have searched me, Lord,
    and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
    you perceive my thoughts from afar (NIV).

and

Isaiah 54: 10

Though the mountains be shaken
    and the hills be removed,
yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken
    nor my covenant of peace be removed,”
    says the Lord, who has compassion on you (NIV).

Precious People

This was our HMT at the end of our last home assignment
in July 2010. One family has moved away and we've added
two more families to their number. 

Last night we had a Skype meeting with some of our home side ministry team (HMT). They are a group of people in Brisbane/Ipswich that we've gathered (five families) who help care for us, particularly when we're in Australia. We love this group. They are like a family too (you see we have lots of "family"). They care about what we do, they ask insightful questions, and they listen well. If we're in a bit of a spot (like when we were trying to decide what to do about our home church), they're the first people we go to to get some perspective on a matter.

Last night we talked about what sort of house we're looking for, a vehicle, and particularly what we need in order to finish furnishing a house (we own a fair proportion of things to basically furnish a house).

Unfortunately, as a result I'm now having trouble thinking about the here-and-now. I guess that is inevitable, with only 12 weeks left, but it is an unsettling feeling. One minute I'm excited about going, the next I'm concerned that I can't concentrate on what I have to do now, and even a little disorientated (what month are we at again?).

So, if you come across me in the next few months and find that I'm not "all there", please be gentle with me! I'm beginning to live life straddled between two very different countries and it is not easy. Finishing things up here and working towards starting things up there is mentally challenging.

On the other hand, I can't wait to see our HMT face-to-face. Last night I really wanted to chat, not talk business. But I guess that will have to wait until we see each other face to face.

My husband's gone away for a while

This morning my husband kissed me goodbye while I still lay in bed (yes, I didn't get up to say goodbye, that is normal for early morning marital farewells in our house). He's gone with the Seniors (Year 12s) on their much anticipated class trip to Thailand. He'll be gone eight days.

This is a photo from early on in our
time in Japan. We've had to rely on
each other more than if we'd lived in
our home country. And therefore have,
perhaps, a tighter bond than we other-
wise would.

I'm not so worked up about it as I was last year when he went (see here as I admitted my weakness in this area). I don't like him being gone, but I survived. Plus, I have many friends who have more frequent husband-absences and who I really admire for being able to do this. As I type, I think about my very good friend with six children who has to deal with long absences, and another who had three under three when her husband was deployed overseas.

I wrote this time last year about this verse: "I can do everything through Him who gives me strength." Philippians 4:13, NIV. Indeed, I can do everything that my God gives me to do, in the strength that He also gives.

I just got a text saying they're about to get on the plane. I love my man and hate to see him leave, even for a short while. But as I said to my 7 y.o. this morning, who expressed the same sentiment, "The Seniors need him just now, so we'll lend him to them for a bit." He seemed happy with that.

Yesterday I also expressed the sentiment to a colleague that these short separations are good for our marriage. They help us to appreciate each other so much more. It is easy to take for granted how much the other parent does in a busy family, and how much we appreciate them just being there as a back-up. I hate having no backup. I'm it for the next eight days (well, I do have my heavenly Father, but He doesn't generally wash the dishes or supervise showers).

But as for now, I have business to take care of before the weekend, and three boys, are upon me. See you later!