Building a bedrock

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nancy Ortberg writes: 

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

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

A couple of admissions

I've had lots of space for thinking recently. Sometimes it feels like too much space.

We enjoyed the simple pleasure of catching
up with "old" friends on Saturday.

A shocking truth: not trusting God. Yep, that's me.

After we moved here in July, I re-joined our home church's Friday morning Ladies Bible study. They had been studying Trusting God by Jerry Bridges. Of course, coming in more than halfway through the year was a disadvantage. (For my northern hemisphere readers: Much of Australian life runs on a calendar year. Many things, including school, start in mid or late January after the long Christmas/summer holidays and finish in November or December. So arriving in July or August often means you've missed half a year of something.) 

One of the ladies gave me a copy of the book they were studying, one that I have actually owned since I was a uni student, but I think it's in storage in Japan. It's a long time since I read it, so I've gone back to read from the start of the book. 

It really is basic stuff that I know, but stuff that I keep forgetting, or maybe "forgetting" is too strong a word, possibly "lose sight of" could be better? I am still not really good at applying truths I know in my head to my emotions. Emotions grab hold of me and before I know it my body is showing signs of stress. When I take a step back and think about what’s going on, more often than not I realise it's because I've stopped trusting that "God's providence is his constant care for and his absolute rule over all his creation for his own glory and the good of his people" (Trusting God, p. 13).

So, I was encouraged to read Bridges write (about his own pilgrimage of seeking to come to a place of trusting God at all times), "I am still far from the end of the journey." It is good to remember that it is a journey, and one that won’t be finished until we’re in heaven.

Entitled thinking 

Additionally I've been thinking about how easy it is for missionaries to slip into entitled thinking. A few weeks ago a close friend caught me thinking that way—my guard was down because she is such a good friend, and I was shocked to hear what came out of my mouth. I still feel ashamed as I see how easy it is to slip into thinking that because I'm a missionary I deserve certain things and deserve better things. And then complaining when I don't get them! And then I saw this quote: 

"You cannot possibly have a sense of entitlement—thinking you deserve only good and beautiful things–when you truly realize that you don't deserve anything good if not for God's grace, extended from his throne."—Mel Caparrow, Enough is Enough

Ouch!

I think "truly realize" is one thing, but always remembering it is another. The dictionary.com definition of "realize" is to "become fully aware of (something) as a fact; understand clearly". I really do understand these truths pretty clearly, but, as I wrote about earlier, applying them to my heart is another matter.

Need to be careful where I put my focus

I need to be more thankful, and more repentant when I notice thoughts like this entering my head. I'm thankful my friend caught me in this. She didn't rebuke me directly, but what she said made me stop and think about what I'd just said.

In the end I think many of the issues that we deal with (anxiety, entitled thinking, anger, fear, discontent etc.) stem back to not trusting God. And this reminds me of a favourite book of mine (that’s also in storage in Tokyo), Awe by Paul Tripp that traces the things we struggle with back to our lack of awe of God, our forgetting how amazing and completely capable and loving he is. I wrote about another book by Jerry Bridges a few years back (here), which also traces what he calls “hidden sins” back to a lack of trust in God’s character:

“The importance of a firm belief in the sovereignty, wisdom, and goodness of God in all the circumstances of our lives. Whether those circumstances are short-term or long-term, our ability to respond to them in a God-honoring and God-pleasing manner depends on our ability and willingness to bring these truths to bear on them. And we must do this by faith; that is, we must believe that the Bible's teaching about these attributes really is true and that God has brought or allowed these difficult circumstances in our lives for his glory and our ultimate good” (Hidden Sins, Bridges, p. 76).

“When I refocus, I take my eyes off my problems, and shift them onto the Lord — and I choose to trust him. Trust him even when my situation looks black. Trust him that he is working for my good. Trust him that he knows what is best.” (From here.)

Remembering this is so important: "No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly" (Psalm 84:11). 

In the last two weeks we received disappointing news on two fronts. Not devastating news, just what felt like setbacks to our plans. But obviously our plans weren’t God’s plans and we need to continue to trust he’ll guide us as we seek to work our way through settling our younger two sons in Australia so that we can return to Japan next July. So I return to one of my favourite passages from the Bible:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart" (Heb. 12:1–3, NIV).

Ah, it is so easy to lose heart. I'm feeling flat today and I think it's partly a losing-heart symptom. Life is hard. God didn't promise us anything else. So the only option is to keep our eyes focused on him.

I've rambled on long enough, it's time to publish this now (I've been writing it for a couple of weeks as I tried to process the rollercoaster of emotions I've been riding).

Food, awkward conversations, and trust

I've had time to think about a lot of things. Here are some of them:

Providing food for an itinerant family (on a budget)

As I explained in my last post, we've been travelling around Queensland in the last month, sometimes with our own kitchen and sometimes with family (and the presumption that they will organise meals). Planning and grocery shopping has moved to a slightly higher challenge level. I've mostly stuck with the simple options, but trying to keep things healthy means not every night can be pies, pizza, or sausage rolls. Not to mention that I just get bored too easily. 

But cooking dinners without a pantry means you're often missing those important extras like salt, vinegar, or flour—the things I think of as staples, that you buy once every few months, but not for a flying visit of a few weeks. And as one who is not only on a budget but is averse to waste, it's not easy to come up with good meals for hungry young men (not to mention David and me).

Here are some of the evening meals I've ended up making:

• sausages and veggies
• chicken wraps
• bacon, eggs, and damper (like soda bread, it's quick wheat bread made with baking soda as a rising agent, not yeast)
• dry rub (garlic flavour) on chicken drumsticks, with rice and veggies
• BBQ (beef patties on bread rolls)
• Japanese curry (roux bought in shops)
• roast lamb

It's a mix of things that we enjoy about Australian food, plus some comfort food we're familiar with from home in Japan. It's worked fairly well, though I'm also dealing with the unfamiliar electric stove/hob. In Japan we use gas, and it's a quite a mental shift to go to electric again. Gas is just so fast! The stove top at our current abode is also complicated—I needed to pull out the instruction manual a couple of times! Plus, adjustments are needed due to the different types of equipment in a kitchen that's not my own, for example, where we are right now has a rice cooker (yay!) but no "rice" cup (180ml). Also there's no potato masher or big-sized tongs.

We're only in our own place until the end of this month. Then David and our youngest son go back to Japan. I'm here with our middle son for another six or so weeks, during which we'll be living with other people. That's going to provide different challenges, too, I'm sure. But at least they'll have a pantry with staples in it.

Spotting a missionary out of their “natural” habitat 

Have you ever spotted a missionary out of their "natural" habitat? We expect that missionaries are either in their country of service, doing what ever they do. Or if they are in their passport country, they will be doing home assignment. As we've met people during these last few weeks in Australia, we've answered questions that made us realise that our presence here is a surprise, or even a tad unsettling. We're not in Japan and nor are we doing deputation. "Here to see family" seems an acceptable answer, but "on holidays" is a bit strange, especially when we're in Brisbane (which isn't really a standard holiday destination). However, if someone is willing to stick around and ask good questions, I get to explain a little about the challenges we're facing in transitioning our middle son from high school in Japan to adult life in Australia and that this is one way that we're trying to help navigate that gap. 

I anticipate it's going to get more difficult to explain in August. Then I will be back at work, but will still be in Brisbane. I work from my home office in Tokyo, and will be doing the same here in Brisbane for a few weeks. That's definitely going to be a bit tricky to explain.

But I'm not the only missionary with our organisation working in Australia. Did you know that we have quite a lot of people who work here? Their work helps us stay in Japan, but also they help recruit others to join us. I imagine they often face this challenge in explaining their roles. I know that they struggle to find sufficient financial support (yes, they are supported by gifts from others, just like we are).

Trusting God

I'm also thinking about this. We've been given the gift of time away from work, but it's been harder to "be still" in the midst of that than I might have guessed. Being still and not being consumed with lots of to-dos means there's more time to think. And of course with that comes the thoughts about "bad things that could happen", especially surrounding our upcoming flights back to Japan. I woke up yesterday morning with that all running around in my head and it took a while to shake it off.

One tempting way to avoid getting stuck in that bad place is to fill up my schedule with lot of other things to entertain or distract. 

Another way is to focus on God's character and his all sufficiency. We're so tempted to rely on our own strength: "you've got this" is the classic. In reality we're very fragile and easily knocked over. There's so much that we simply don't have ultimately control over. Even if it looks like we do, things happen that show that that isn't truly the case.

I was reminded of Isaiah 40 yesterday, but also Job 38–42. Both passages remind us of how mighty God is, and how relatively small we are in comparison. Job said: 

“I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted" (42:2 NIV).

Paul wrote that the Lord said to him: “'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me" (2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV).

And: "Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God" (2 Cor. 3:5 ESV).

And Jeremiah prayed: "Ah, Lord God! It is you who have made the heavens and the earth by your great power and by your outstretched arm! Nothing is too hard for you" (Jer. 32:17 ESV). God responded, "Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh. Is anything too hard for me?" (vs 27).

The Psalmist wrote: "Why are you cast down, O my soul and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God" (Ps. 42:11 ESV).

And these things are what I should be directing my thoughts to when I start dwelling on what could go wrong!

(Check out this article for more about El Shaddai, the all sufficient God.)

Meet David and Wendy

I've been thinking about this too, and our rough plan at this point is to take a picnic lunch to Rocks Riverside Park in Brisbane on Saturday 30th July, probably from around 11.30. If you're local and would like to join us, please do. To help locate us, I'll plan to wear my bright red jumper. We don't have any chairs, so we'll try to find a table somewhere.

Spiritual emergency kit

The forest outside the chapel where we met to
contemplate these three questions. We could 
only see glimpses through the narrow
windows of the auditorium. It was nice to
nip out and snap a photo.

A wall of faith

This was the topic at the women's retreat I went on late last week. The theme was based on the idea that you identify (and memorise) Scriptures and other “bricks” like songs, quotes, etc. that will help you weather difficult times. Especially times when you don’t have access to a Bible or phone. For example in the middle of the night when your thoughts are swirling around getting snagged on negatives and dragging you down into anxiety and stress. Or when you’re sitting with your loved one waiting for an ambulance to arrive. Or stuck in traffic and late for an appointment and feeling anxious.

Our speaker split these into three easy-to-remember categories, the foundation being—who is God? Followed by—who am I? And then—why am I here?

These are really fundamental questions. We were encouraged to find our own “bricks” in these categories at the retreat, bricks that have particular significance to us. But that was too much for me to contemplate while I was at the retreat. My desire was to soak in being present with these precious women. That turned out to be about all I could cope with. Now there is time to reflect on the messages and come up with some of my own verses. There are so many! Here are some I might add to my spiritual emergency kit:

Who is God?

He can do all things, no plan of his is thwarted. Job 42:2

He is our refuge and strength, an every-present help in trouble. Psalm 46:1

He is a shepherd who tenderly takes care of his flock (us). Isaiah 40:11

He is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. Isaiah 40:28

He is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer. Psalm 18:2

My provider. Matthew 7:11–33

“When you don't understand, when you don't see his plan, when you can’t trace his hand, trust his heart” From a song "Trust his heart" by Babbie Mason

He goes before me: “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” Deuteronomy 31:8

Who am I?

Created and called by God, not a mistake. Ps 139                                    

Precious. 1 Peter 2:4

Loved. Jeremiah 31:3

Alien and a stranger on earth 1 Peter 2:11 but now a member of God’s household Ephesians 2:19

Why am I here?

I’m here to do his will, even if that means sitting still. “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him.” Psalm 37:7 

To declare the praises of God. 1 Peter 2:9

To glorify God by serving with the strength he provides. 1 Peter 4:11

Because God wants me here. Ps 139:16

To do good works that God has prepared beforehand. Ephesians 2:10

Competent because God makes me that way. 2 Cor. 3:5

I'm not good at memorising, but already can see how helpful this might be. A couple of times since Friday I've been stuck in that spot halfway between sleep and wakefulness, and thinking through those of these that I could remember has been helpful and has calmed my heart, even if I can't remember all the verses, I can remember the key point. And now I've written them down, I can review them when I need to!

How about you? Do you have answers to these questions that help you when times are tough?

The Lord himself goes before you

The workshop I've written about in recent posts has finished. I'm so happy to be at the other end of it. It's been lovely to get back to work at my usual tasks and really enjoy the largely uninterrupted time! Yes, I've had no meetings this week, tonnes of work, but no meetings. I've got several meetings tomorrow, and next week have the equivalent of two days of meetings, so we'll just count up till now.

I'm just not sure what to write here today. The bigger picture of our lives is that our personal future has become more uncertain over the last year. Of course we never know what the future holds, but our plan has always been, for 21 years, to stay in Japan until we retired, unless the Lord called us to something different. We're not so sure now, but maybe God will call us to return to Australia for a period? It relates to our responsibilities as parents. I can't divulge more than that on this public platform, which means it's hard to write about. It's not the most comfortable of positions because we're both feeling very settled and happy in our various roles. But it is a question we will carry into the rest of this year and probably through next year also. 

So, we learn more about patience and waiting on the Lord. He called us to this life in Japan, he's sustained us thus far, and he will continue to do the same, whatever the next chapter of our lives looks like. 

I just keep coming back to a beautiful card that arrived in mid January. It came from an elderly lady I can't remember ever meeting. She knew my mum when my mum was a nurse-in-training 50 years ago! This elderly lady send us this verse, along with her letter and reassurance of her prayers. She doesn't know the specifics of our situation, but her gift was definitely on point.

Failure or success?

Here's a great post I found four years ago. I intended to use it as a springboard to write a blog post from, but never did. I have dozens of such links sitting in draft blog posts, a bit neater than a crafter's to do cupboard or room, but still could use some attention. 

Probably most overseas workers struggle with a feeling of a certain level of failure. I certainly do, in much more pervasive way than I've ever experienced in Australia. Japanese language is my achilles heel and the enemy is very quick to attack me on this point. In the last couple of years I've also struggled against a sense of personal failure in parenting.

Why are we quick to judge ourselves? And why do we choose results as the litmus test? Maybe because it's easier to say "an A is success, a D is not"? Is that something that school drove into us? Maybe, but I think it's human nature to want simple measures of what success vs failure is. And an A-E scale, or percentage scale is easy. Being able to put people (ourselves) into boxes is easy—that's why we love personality measures like introvert-extrovert, Myers Briggs, and Enneagrams. 

Dealing with messy is much harder. It's easy to make the false jump from "my child learned to read early" to "I'm a successful parent". Or from "I have this degree and a job" to "I'm a successful person". Or from "I have good Japanese" to "I'm a successful missionary".

It's much harder to know what to think about the child who struggles to learn, the young adult who—for whatever reason—struggles to live independently, or the missionary whose attempts to learn the language or to do evangelism appears to lack any results.

I think we often judge ourselves more harshly that we judge other people, simply because we know more about ourselves and the unspoken fears and insecurities that others don't know, or don't know the full depth of it. 

For example, I know the depths of my language inabilities, but most others don't. I remember the day that, at a meeting with our mission, we had a Japanese speaker and they offered translation for anyone who wanted it. I'd long "graduated" from full-time language study but knew that I wasn't going to be able to understand this important topic in Japanese. Because our mission values good language, the pressure to not join the translation group was huge (it was mostly for short termer and new workers). I did join it in the end, but got some funny looks from some of my colleagues.

I can't look sideways or even internally for affirmation of who I am and what I do. I need to look upwards to God, who made me just as I am. I like how the writer of the article I linked to at the start finishes her article, with this prayer:

God,
You know me. The life and talents you’ve given me are no mistake; they are not too much or too little. You know my fears, difficulties, and disappointments. It’s true that I would love success, but even more than that, I want to be found faithful with what you have given me. I want to be pleasing to you.
Amen.  

Come, follow me

I've started three blog posts in the last week or so, and they're all circling around the same theme: letting go and trusting God, not just at a head level, but at a heart level. So, I've decided the best thing is to do the work to combine them.

It's been a challenge to trust God with everything in recent weeks and months. Wow, what a confession to make! To trust him with everything we hold dear, though we don't know what he's doing and why; to trust him, though we can't make the plans we wish we could make. I guess that's always a challenge for us humans. And this pandemic hasn't helped. 

This post I wrote only ten weeks ago shows me that our plans, that I admitted were foggy, have become even foggier.

The struggles I've had this year have been mostly circling my kids, my nearly-grown boys. Who thought that parenting could be so hard? (I've been saying that for over 20 years now!) They are no longer my little boys, who were "relatively" easy to keep corralled; whose pain was easier to fix.

If you've got younger kids, you probably don't want to hear me say that the problems get bigger and harder to "fix" as they get older. I'm under no illusions that parenting my little boys was easy. No, I found that really challenging too. So this isn't a "better-worse" thing here. Just saying that parenting older kids has been throwing us some major "googlies" recently (this is a cricket metaphor, others would say "curve ball"). But the problems are such that I can't reveal them to you in the public space of my blog. So I have to settle for metaphors and generalisations, so read between the lines, if you dare!

Mark records Jesus meeting a rich man who had run up to him and asked what he must "do to inherit eternal life?" (10:17 ESV). "And Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, '. . . come, follow me'" (v. 21). The story shows the man to be someone who would have been considered good: a rule-keeper. But he gave up his quest for eternal life when Jesus said he should sell everything he had (and give it to the poor) in order to follow Jesus.

One thing it seems we can plan 
is a camping trip...so bring it on 
(in 10 days time)!

In her book Come Closer, Jane Rubietta wrote: "To be really rich, we unclench our fists, open our hands, and reach for Jesus. He promised us life, abundant life, and we create room for that life when we let go. Whatever is in your grip, recognize it. Notice why you hold that person, that role, that ambition, so tightly . . . let [Christ] have you, all of you—your hopes for the future, your pain from the past, your roles and rules and relationships" (p.44).

I certainly recognise some of these things in my own life. My desire to hold onto plans for the future, to keep control over how things pan out. To hold onto how I'd like my sons to live their lives. I like to be in control of some things. Most of us do.

It's not a bad thing to control when you go to bed, or when you get up. Or to seek to control whether you are a responsible employee or student. It's not a bad thing to be passionate about your job. Neither is it a bad thing to strive for a balance of work and rest, or to make plans for when you'll next see your family. But sometimes these things can trip us up, and can hinder us from following Jesus. Sometimes you simply can't control the things you want to, what then? Jesus' statement was to one man, but is also to us. Will we "follow him" wherever he leads us? Though whatever he brings our way?

Last week I read this in Joshua 10: "And the LORD said to Joshua, 'Do not fear them, for I have given them into your hands" (v. 8). Note the verb: "given". It's already happened and they hadn't even gone into battle yet!

"We trust in his future plans and purposes through Christ because we know that he has already achieved them, eternally". (A Time to Hope, Naomi Reed)

During prayer and conversations with my husband in the last month, we've pretty much given over to God a number of things that I couldn't have imagined only a few months ago. It's like God has drilled down on us, hemming us in, and been teaching us—"You can't assume anything about the future."

So I'm really fighting to stay in the here-and-now, and as one who likes to plan and dream about the future, it's tough. But I know that the God who already knew the outcome of Joshua's battle with the kings of the Amorites, is the same God who knows the outcome of the various battles we're facing today. What a comfort that it!

If I'm going to be hemmed in, then the safest place to be is with the Lord, after all "The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe" (Prov. 18:10 ESV).

This is part three of my series based "15 invitations by Jesus to come" as written about in Jane Rubietta's book Come Closer.

A testing time

David preaching.

I awoke this morning while writing a blog post in my head. It's these sorts of things that remind me that I am a writer (even if I've no ambition to write a book). But it's been 10 days since I wrote a blog post, so it's certainly time to put some words on the screen, as a lot has happened.

Our home church on Sunday as David preached. 

The big news is that late on Friday afternoon we were given the news that we would be allowed to proceed to Japan as planned in early January. It's hard to find words to say about this, which is one of the reasons I haven't written. 

It had been sixteen days of waiting. Those were hard days. For those who interacted with us during those days, we tried to put on brave faces, but I really struggled. My body was telling me I was struggling. Like most people, I have a list of usual physical stress signs and I had just about every one of them, including headaches and nausea.

David preached again on Sunday (for the last time this home assignment), the same sermon, on the latter half of Matthew 16, about trusting God for everything. We've heard him preach this same sermon several times across the last few months. But it was much more personal on Sunday and left me feeling raw. It's not all that fun having your personal, spiritual challenges laid out for others to watch and comment on.

On the surface, it might seem that the timing of when we go back to Japan wouldn't be that big a concern, but actually, it's bigger than perhaps can easily be seen first off. It was like a king domino threatening to fall and the consequences included decisions about our boys' education, two houses that we're currently leasing (one in Ipswich and one in Tokyo), David's job, and all the people we would have let down if we'd had to stay here. Not to mention that we'd already visited all our supporting churches in the last four and half months and couldn't imagine what else we'd be doing if we'd stayed longer. We'd just spoken at 18 churches, nearly two dozen small groups, and met with over 20 individuals or groups for meals or coffee. So this news came as we were feeling very tired. On a bigger scale than that, it seemed as though our call to Japan was being questioned. 

As I wrote back here, it wasn't the only difficult news we had to deal with. Over a period of just eight days, we had "hits" from several different fronts. It was as if we were being assaulted with bad news on every side. Family, friends, kids, and our calling. Thankfully our marriage remained and we were able to stand strong together, though at times like this I definitely feel like the weaker one, the one whose body gives in to stress far more easily.

Not a large pool, but sufficiently deep and
wet enough to have fun in.

Looking back, however, there are several other things to be thankful about. Amidst the question of our calling, we were given much affirmation by colleagues and close friends here and in Japan. Many people stood by us as we waited. I was able to tell some of the more personal struggles with close friends and they were a great support to us also. In having our calling to Japan questioned, we sought the Lord and only found confirmation, though a warning to remember always where our trust should lie.

I'm writing from the depths of our short holiday. We'd planned a six-night get-away from Sunday afternoon and, though it was hard to guard this time, we're glad we did and it's been a blessed relief to have no other responsibilities other than taking care of ourselves. We've also been incredibly blessed by being able to stay (for free) in a six-bedroom, three-bathroom house with a pool and media room, tucked away on the Sunshine Coast. It's been wonderful.

While we're away we're trying not to think about all that needs to be arranged and done to make another international move in under a month. Thankfully, on Friday, we were able to book flights back to Japan for the 9th of January (we didn't let grass grow!). We've got a house already set up in Tokyo and a car (though it's being used in Yokohama at present). There are just a few things to do before we leave, like packing up and cleaning where we're living in Ipswich. Though we've been living lightly, so there isn't too much to pack.

We go back to Ipswich on Saturday and then have several medical appointments on Monday and Tuesday and will take off again on Thursday to spend the rest of the month with first David's family, then mine.

One of the ironies about this whole situation is that I do find it hard to leave Australia after home assignment. Australia is a comfortable place for us. We fit in here better than we do in Japan. So, even after fighting to go back to Japan as planned, I do still have mixed emotions about leaving. There's no doubt we're supposed to be in Japan . . . but.

Yesterday one of the boys started a "Would you rather______ or ________." conversation. I grabbed this with two hands, and asked them questions like:

"Would you rather a hot Christmas or cold one?" Unanimously they answered "cold".
"Would you rather eat Japanese or Australian instant noodles?" Again a unanimous "Japan".

Then they got one in: "Would you rather live in Japan or Australia?"

I begged off. I simply can't answer that. After fighting to go back to Japan in January as planned, I can no longer legitimately say that I prefer living in Australia (unless you remove from me a sense that I have to do something meaningful with my life*).

I've no idea when I'll post again. Probably next time I wake up with a blog post in my head...


*Of course I'm not implying that there is nothing to do in Australia that is meaningful, just that I'm not called to do meaningful work in Australia at the moment.

A bunch of encouragement

When I wrote yesterday I was a bit grumpy and not that happy with how the day was proceeding, but determined to make the best of it.

Part of that was conflict after breakfast with a son. Part of that was my general mentality of late (see here and here), for which I've been seeking an answer. Why have I been out-of-sorts? I'm still not totally sure, it's probably a combination of factors, including lots of gray weather as well as feeling quite heavy of heart about several circumstances in the lives of friends and colleagues (read: cancer, moving away, broken engagement, unfaithfulness, ill health, death, injustice etc.). None of these significant things have happened in our lives, but we're praying about it in the lives of those we know. And that is heavy.

However, in the last few days God has sent a bunch of encouragement my way:

Oyakodonburi (chicken and egg on rice)

• I've felt discouraged about my blog, feeling like I'm just writing the same-old-same-old stuff. But several people have told me in the last few days that they love it and are encouraged by it.

• Yesterday I was feeling like a fish out of water during a time in the schedule at school where some parents were learning about American college applications and others about Japanese college applications. I don't fit either box, nor did I need to hear about the other options on the "menu". I've been here too long...So I was in the library. Not in a mood to either read or browse to borrow books when I ended up in a texting conversation with a mum with young kids who lives next door to the campus. In a flash of brilliance? I practically invited myself over to her place for the 40 minutes I had left before the next meeting I needed to be at. Great conversation. The start of a deepening relationship?

• The meeting from 4pm was about senior stuff. Important things that are happening during this year. Part of the meeting involved those of us who have volunteered to coordinate the parent-led events at the end of the year (parent-student banquet and graduation after-party) informing parents and get the ball rolling on volunteers that we need, forms to be filled out, money to be paid etc. It was good to see things start to come together. This is a risky business, volunteering to coordinate such a diverse group of people organising events like this, but it seems to be working.

• As a result of the argument with my son in the morning, the menu for the week got shuffled around and I ended up cooking something I hadn't planned on for dinner. But it worked out pretty well. Not getting home until 6pm, I was concerned about getting it on the table on time, but it worked well. Plus it was a Japanese meal I've only made once before. Making Japanese food always makes me feel accomplished.

• I went to the school's weekly prayer meeting this morning and unusually stayed afterwards to chat with some of the mums. One of them is an editing colleague with the magazine. We had an encouraging, meandering chat.

• I'm in the middle of an email exchange with one of my sons right now. I don't want to violate his privacy, suffice to say—I'm encouraged at the depth of honesty we've got going.

• Even finding that all my boys not only volunteered to make their own lunches yesterday (they all had only half-days at school) but did so without prompting or needing significant assistance.

They're probably the biggest things, though I could add more smaller things.

Disappointed

One day we'll understand the troubles we go through now,
 but for now it's as if we are looking through grubby glass.

Our daily Bible reading notes usually has a single, sometimes pithy, sometimes redundant or corny statement at the bottom. Today it was disappointing.

Jesus is the only friend who will never disappoint you.

Just quickly without thinking hard I could think of several people (most of whom are friends) who haven't had their prayers answered: two whose spouses have died young this year, one who desires joy but never seems to get it, one who has post-natal depression for the second time despite all precautions, and one who is lonely, despite many people around her, one who wishes her job were easier, even though she works for a Christian organisation, and another who yearns to be married. 

Those represent only a smattering, of people I know about or who've confided in me in recent months. I'd want to bet that there are many more out there, or perhaps everyone who's had something that they've desperately prayed about not answered in the way they wanted.

Philip Yancey's Disappointment with God delves deeply into this.

So clearly there are problems with the above quote. Everyone I mentioned above are Christians. 

Jesus is indeed the perfect friend, the only perfect friend, in that he doesn't ever do evil against us. But because we aren't perfect and we don't live in a perfect world bad things happen. In God's great wisdom he's using all this imperfection for his good purposes, but we don't necessarily know what that is. And it often hurts.

On Sunday one of David's colleagues preached about the Bible metaphor of God as the potter and us as the clay. It was great to hear a live sermon in English (I often listen to a  recording of a sermon from our home church during the week). But the metaphor is such a good one, and as a lover of pottery and the husband of a potter, he was able to give extra insight.

This image appears in several places in the Bible. Some examples are Romans 9:21 "Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for special purposes and some for common use?" and Jeremiah 18:4 "But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him."

The preacher on Sunday pointed out that if we were to imagine ourselves as clay being formed into a piece of pottery, there's a lot of rough stuff that happens during the process.

It is a helpful analogy when feeling that Jesus isn't appearing to be the perfect friend that you want. He's not just a friend, he's our creator, Lord, and is in the business of forming us into the vessels he wants us to be.

So I object to the simplistic statement that Jesus is the only perfect friend. He is perfect and he is a friend, but he's much more than a friend. And from our limited and flawed perspectives he can appear very imperfect indeed.

Do not be discouraged. Jesus' love for us is very great, greater than a best friend.

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:38-39). 

An Ongoing Battle to Trust God: guest post

This month a piece of my writing has been published in The Upper Room (TUR) Daily Devotional Guide, today is the day it's been allocated to. Though I haven't seen the magazine yet I'm told it's there. They've also started inviting writers to write as guests on the TUR blog, published the same day that our meditation appears in the magazine. 

Here's a link to my guest post, if you're interested. It's called "An Ongoing Battle to Trust God."

Trust and Control, are they opposites?*

Three days ago I lay face-down on the masseur's table thinking about trust. What does it mean to trust God? Especially, what does it mean to trust God with my kids?

Trust . . . I trust a chair when I sit on it. I don't usually check the joints before I sit on it. I trust the electricity and the gas. I just switch the switches or turn the taps and expect that they'll work. When they don't, I'm surprised. (I do live in Japan.)

As the masseur stretched out the sore muscles in my shoulders I pondered how trusting God is different to the trust I place in objects and services around me.

The difference is that a chair has no will, nothing changes about a chair. There is a simplicity about it that makes it relatively easy to trust.

That's different when it comes to trusting people . . . or God. 

Trusting people is hard because they aren't perfect, and they live in a world that isn't perfect. I trust my husband will wash up the dishes after dinner, but sometimes he's too busy, or too distracted, or even not present because of work. Occasionally he's too sick. But I do trust him more than I trust my kids. He's proven he is trustworthy.

My boys are 10, 13, and 16. They are more inconsistent than my husband. I still need to check up on them, to remind them, and direct them.

But God. Trusting God is really hard. That's not because he's inconsistent, like my kids, but because he's intangible. And he's not predictable.

The masseur moved on to my tight lower back and I remembered Aslan from Narnia. That famous quote: 

[Susan said:]"Is he-quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion"..."Safe?" said Mr Beaver ..."Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.”

Trusting God is hard because he isn't safe. We don't know what he will do. But we do have his reassurance that he loves us and will not allow us to be separated from him.

Romans 8: 31b-32, 38-39 "If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? . . . For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,  neither the present nor the future, nor any powers,  neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

My dilemma with trusting God with my kids is all tied up with control. What I want is control. My thinking has been going along these lines: If I can "make them" do their assignments, to study, to fulfil their responsibilities at school I am doing all I can to make sure they have a chance to reach their potential.

The problem is that not only is it impossible to control my kids, it is impossible to make them do exactly what I want them to do, it is impossible. But I don't want to admit that. 

I was always a conscientious student (to the point of my report card comments being boringly repetitive). Now I am a conscientious parent. Not only do I hate to see my kids being less than conscientious but I hate feel that I've not done enough. I can't give up thinking that if only I'd done this or that they may have succeeded.

So where do I draw the line between trusting God for my kids and their future and seeking to be true to my conscientious nature? Where is the line when my conscientiousness becomes controlling?

I'm still learning and growing. But I think that trust is the opposite to control. If I trust my chair I don't feel the need to control it while it's doing its job. If I trust my husband I feel no need to control what he does. Then . . . if I trust God I need to release my struggle to control him. If I trust God to look after my kids then I need to walk away from seeking to control them.

Hudson Taylor's son Howard once commented on his dad, 

“He prayed about things as if everything depended upon the praying . . . but he worked also, as if everything depended on his working.” http://omf.org/us/about/our-story/quotes/#sthash.8nJZv8sr.dpuf 

This year we celebrated 150 years since beginning of our mission. Hudson Taylor was our founder. He said this on the day he decided to start the mission that is now OMF: 

Brighton, 25 June 1865: “All at once came the thought – If you are simply obeying the LORD, all the responsibility will rest on Him, not on you! What a relief!! Well, I cried to God –You shall be responsible for them, and for me too!”#

He was speaking about China, but the same applies to our kids. Simply obey the Lord. He bears the responsibility. It is very different to trusting the masseur table I lay on earlier this week. But the same principle applies. Don't be always wondering if that chair, table, or switch will work. Simply sit, lie, or turn it on. 

Don't always be wondering if God's got the situation under his control. Pray and tell him about it and about your concerns. Then trust and do what you've got to do—being mindful of what he's quietly saying to you while you're doing it.



*This is in response to a writing theme prompt for this week on Velvet Ashes' The Grove, an online community of Christian women serving overseas.

#A.J. Broomhall.Hudson Taylor and China’s Open Century, Book Three: If I Had a Thousand Lives. London: Hodder and Stoughton and Overseas Missionary Fellowship, 1982, 454.

Grief, yet we trust

It's been several days since I could get to writing here. It's ironic that lately it's the times that give me most to write about that keep me from writing here (eg. away at a church camp with no internet). 

The long weekend away has 

This is where we last saw our colleague, at our national
conference in Japan in 2013. I well remember talking
with his wife about their young daughter, whom they
had adopted after many years of not being able to
have children.

given me much to write about. But because I try to keep it to one main idea per post, I'm going to have to limit myself today to grief.

Last week we heard that a beloved colleague of our in Japan died from cancer, the third in about eight years we've lost. Another colleague wrote this (from here):

The OMF Japan family is grieving. The Lord called home a respected, godly, much loved co-worker in the early hours of this morning. He leaves behind his wife and 3-year-old daughter, and a legacy of faithfulness that has changed many lives. I wish you could know him. I wish I had known him longer. As believers in Jesus, we can look forward to seeing our dear brother again in glory.

Not 24 hours later we heard that David's cousin, who'd also been struggling with an aggressive cancer, had passed away. Both left behind spouses and a young child or children.

Neither were geographically close enough for us to help in any way or attend the funerals. 

So, once again we're grieving at a distance. Groaning with creation in the imperfections of this world. But at the same time looking forward to heaven where there will be no grief.

"‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!”” (Revelations 21:4, 5a, NIV).

Then, today's date is also significant. It is the day that more than 18,000 people lost their lives in Japan four years ago. The day of the 9.0 earthquake, the giant tsunami, and the start of the nuclear disaster in Fukushima.

The wife of our colleague in Japan prayed this at the hospital last week: 

“Lord, I still have many questions. There are things that I do not understand. But I choose to trust and believe in you...”

I agree. I have questions, but I choose to trust and believe.

I believe in a God about whom this is written:

"Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love.  For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to anyone" (Lamentations 3:31-33, NIV).

So, though I don't understand. I trust in the only one I know who has unfailing love. I pray that I, as well as those much closer to the ones who died, would: 

"... have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God" (Ephesians 3:18-19, NIV).