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.

Lists, a book, and more lists

Birthday present from
one of my sons!

A birthday

On Monday I celebrated another birthday. I've had a lot of them now! It was a busy day on the other side of Tokyo with OMF colleagues, something I'm thankful for. I didn't have time for much navel-gazing or feeling emotional about how many decades have passed.

Great book

When God doesn't answer your prayer this is the title of a book I finished reading recently, actually on the train on my birthday! It's one of the easier books on prayer that I've ever read (and perhaps the shortest). But it was also hard to read: because it brought to mind the many griefs: people who've died, people who are alive but struggling with overwhelming problems, and other people who don't walk a path of faith in Christ. Not to mention those things that happen that just don't make sense.

The author, Jerry Sittser, comes to the topic from a place of deep pain (losing his daughter, wife and mother in a car accident and then being a single parent to his remaining three children). There are no cliches or glibness. It's very honest. He writes:

I view suffering with horror, and I recoil from it. I have seen too many people fail to bounce back. Yet I cannot fathom what we would do without suffering either. I have come to this conclusion with great hesitation. Adversity strips us down, exposes us, and breaks us, all prerequisites for genuine growth in the spiritual life...it drives us to God.

His theology is sound and he's happy to admit where he struggles and where he doesn't understand. The book has encouraged me to persist in prayer, to be more honest (God can take our complaints), and to be more willing to ask God to change me than to change the world around me (though that is a hard thing to pray).

I'd love to read it again, perhaps with one or more other people (it has questions in the back for groups). I'm delighted that this is in my local Australian library as an ebook!

Daily life

After over a week away from my desk I had to face my growing list of "to dos" on Wednesday. As home assignment gets closer, the lists of things to do continue to grow. Some lights are glowing dimly at the end the proverbial tunnel. But it does feel like the train is going faster and faster.

Lists and more lists. This is how I cope with an overwhelming number of things to remember to do. This week, amongst my usual work, I've also added arrows to calendars and made a few lists of what is in my head that I need to pass on to others who will take over my various roles. I've answered emails and written messages and emails about potential commitments in September, and March 2024.

Today, Good Friday, the Christian Academy in Japan, our school, has taken the afternoon off. I worked this morning at my computer and this afternoon has been a mishmash of various home and work responsibilities. This evening, we're meeting colleagues/friends for dinner at a local cafe.

Upcoming stuff

Tomorrow we've got our last Saturday sports event ever. I have mixed feelings about that! (We've got one more athletics meet at the end of the month, but it's a mid-week event.) We're hoping that the rain that is forecast will not eventuate!

On Sunday afternoon we're taking a short walk down the road to look at a possibility for our next abode in Japan (from next July). Still very much only a possibility, but I'm keen to take a look.

And then Monday it's back to my desk, and continuing to add and tick off items on my to-do list on my phone. The items on the list aren't just busy work, they are things like: 

• write 100 words for OMF Japan's monthly prayer letter about my ministries
• flat plan for HA photo album
• follow up with three people (after the 18th) about a topic they might write on
• list the processes for OMF blog editing
• write a call for proposals for the next magazine

Another online list (on Asana) tells me I also need to 

• edit blog posts by Megan, Simon, and Peter.
• get back to an author about his edited article

Important bits and pieces related to all sorts of things that I'm responsible for. And having them on the list means I'm not wearing myself out trying to remember it all. Hopefully, it means that the balls that are my responsibility to keep in the air and usher eventually into the right hands aren't dropped.

I'm well aware today is Good Friday, though nothing much of what I've done has been particularly contemplative. We aren't especially big on elaborate traditions in our family. But know that what today represents in the death of Jesus Christ, son of God, is central to my faith and my life, every day. Some people look at us and the various things that we have faced, especially in the last few years, and wonder why we're still here when in some ways it would have been easier to "give up and go home". The truth of the matter is that it's because of Easter.

I have a note in my Bible: "This is why we serve him." It's in the margin of Isaiah 53:12— "Because he poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors. For he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors" (NIV).

Here's a different way of writing it: "He has poured out his soul unto death. He was counted as a sinner, and he bore the sins of many, and he pled with God for sinners" (Living Bible).

With regards to the hard things that come our way, in the "unanswered prayer" book, Sittser writes:

The real heroes in life are those who respond to adversity with dignity, faith, and patience. All we must do is be attentive to the little irritations and problems we face every day, asking the question, 'What is God trying to do in my life?' And then pray, 'God, use this adversity to transform me.' This might be the most difficult prayer you will ever pray because of the circumstances you face. It might take all the faith you can muster just to say those words. I urge you, nevertheless, to pray them, and then wait for God to answer it.

I wouldn't count myself as a "real hero", and I surely am not good at saying "God use even this to transform me." But I hope that he is transforming me regardless of whether or not I pray this.

Looking ahead to 2022

I'm not excited about writing this blog post, but it's a tradition that I've done since my very first January of writing this blog (in 2010), and I'm going to keep it. Looking ahead to 2022 is even more difficult than I thought 2021 was. After two years of this pandemic it really is difficult to think positively about the future, even for this optimist and planner.

We had a New Year's Eve party with friends on Friday night. The party itself was a stark reminder of how our world is currently different. Of the four married couples represented at the party, David and I were the only two who could both come. Of the rest, one partner was either in quarantine due to travelling internationally over Christmas because of family ill-health or death, or had illness in their house that they didn't want to share with the rest of us. Three of the four families have adult children in our home countries who might have visited if times had been different. Those of us who could gather were glad we could, but the party was overshadowed by the absence of those who couldn't.

As for what lies ahead for 2022 . . . I don't really want to guess. However it looks like Australia is finally opening up and allowing non-hotel quarantine, so we hope to visit mid-year. How long I will stay is still undetermined, though David and our youngest will have to return for the start of school in August (he's starting Grade 12!). I will probably stay longer to help our middle son explore some options for the future. No idea what that might look like, but it's out there as a pencilled-in plan.

But there's one thing we do know: "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever."

There are many metaphors that underline his solid, permanent status. He's a rock, a strong tower, a fortress, and a shield (Psalm 18:2 among others). He's an anchor for our soul (Hebrews 6:19) foundation (story of wise and foolish builders Matthew 7).

So we are urged to: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will direct your paths" (Proverbs 3:5–6). 

As I've thought about this transition into a new year, I've been encouraged in recent weeks by some other passages of the Bible too.

2 Chronicles 20 Unusual reaction to strife

This chapter tells us about Jehoshaphat, king of Judah. A couple of groups came against him in war. The incident is relayed to us by "some people" who came to the king saying "A vast army is coming against you". Jehoshaphat was alarmed. It says, upon receiving this new he proclaimed a fast for all Judah in order to inquire of the Lord and seek God's help. And then it tells us his prayer. I love to read the prayers recorded for us in the Bible. This one shows us the king reminding God of who he is and what he's done in the past. He finished with "We have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you."

We're in a very different situation in 2022, no vast army, but rather a complex medical-social-political situation that limits us, shocks us, stretches us, and threatens to make us bow down in fear. We indeed have no power to face this situation. We don't know what to do, but we can keep our eyes fixed on God.

After this prayer of Jehosaphat, it says that "the Spirit of the Lord came on" a Levite in the assembly and he said "Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God's." They they fell down in worship and praised God. The next day Jehoshaphat appointed some men to sing to the Lord and "praise him for the splendor of his holiness"! The singers marched at the head of the army. It was a pretty unusual battle strategy, but it worked. The "vast army" was defeated.

Revelation 13:10 Great suffering calls for patient endurance and faithfulness

The verses prior to this contain science-fiction-like scenes. They describe a terrible calamity that is difficult to understand, however, the section ends with "This calls for patient endurance and faithfulness on the part of God’s people." Indeed, though we don't understand the earlier portion, we do know that our current situation calls for patient endurance and faithfulness.

Revelation 8:1–4 Power of prayer

This is part of John's vision and gives us a beautiful picture of what happens to our prayers. Often we feel useless and like our prayers are meaningless. Phrases like "all we can do is pray" reveal that. However, this is such an encouraging passage:

 "When he opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour. And I saw the seven angels who stand before God, and seven trumpets were given to them. Another angel, who had a golden censer, came and stood at the altar. He was given much incense to offer, with the prayers of all God’s people, on the golden altar in front of the throne. The smoke of the incense, together with the prayers of God’s people, went up before God from the angel’s hand."

Revelation 21:3–4 Longing for heaven

"And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘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.”

When there is much pain, the longing for heaven increases. How I long for the days that we're told about in these verses.

But meanwhile I am called to serve him here, where there is pain and suffering, and death and tears, fear and rebellion. May God have mercy on us in 2022! 

And again: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will direct your paths."

Trusting God when life is hard

A disclaimer here to start: my life isn't that hard at the moment, and it has never really been majorly hard! (Not in the ballpark of an unfaithful spouse or death of a close family member.) Probably the biggest thing hanging over us at the moment is that our boys are at the age where we're wondering about their futures and wondering how they'll get from where they are to fully functioning adults in the next few years. Sometimes that causes me to want to pull my hair out, and I commented to a friend just this week that sometimes it's hard to "count it all joy".

Nevertheless, it has been good to ponder this topic again recently. I think it is a topic that we try to avoid, so that when trouble does hit it catches us by surprise. So it is good to think on it, and examine our hearts closely.

I mentioned last week that I'd been reading When God's Ways Make No Sense, by Dr. Larry Crabb. It's really another book about suffering—about how we tend to think about God when we hit rough times.

I like the way Crabb writes: he's honest, much more soul-wrenchingly honest than most writers! Plus, he writes clearly, for the layperson, not the theologian. He states upfront that he's not theologically trained himself, but he obviously works hard to understand scripture and what theologians say about it. So I didn't find his book hard to read at all (which is quite a feat in light of the challenging topic), in fact if anything it bordered on repetitive at times.

But I didn't set out to write a book review on the book, rather to reflect on the theme. Crabb says there are three main ways that "Christians" respond to hardship: like Jonah, like Saul pre-Paul days, and like Habakkuk. That is, run away from God when trouble strikes, believe a counterfeit gospel, or tremble and trust.

With something of a shock, I realised that though I struggle at times to feel at peace with my faith in God amidst the troubles around me, I have not ever tended towards running from God, or distorting the gospel. I'm not boasting here. God put me in a family where I grew up in a church that didn't shy away from hard truths, I grew up in a family that valued reading the Bible. So it is God's gracious work in me from a very early age that means I am what I am. 

From an early age I understood that the Christian life involved trouble. As I read the book it jarred me to realise that many don't understand or believe this, even those who aren't so obviously into Prosperity theology. God never guarantees that life will be easy this side of heaven. He never guarantees blessings that will make life more comfortable, or to protect us from what we fear. He doesn't give blessings as a result of my good behaviour or that if I pray a lot (or get lots of people to pray with me about something) he'll answer in the way I want. He also doesn't seek my advice about what a good result would be in a situation, and go about making it happen.

And I'm starting to feel very dubious about writing about this topic at all, after-all, I'm no theologian either. As I've pondered this topic, it's occurred to me that even if I'm not dramatically rebelling against God in this matter, I certainly am guilty of thinking wrongly at times. So many of our "Christian ways" are potentially tainted by these thoughts, e.g., some of the songs we love to listen to, the fervent praying we engage in for present-day blessings.

But basically, the conclusion I've come to in my life (and Crabb agrees) is that I'm "too small of brain" to comprehend the ways of God. Actually God says this too:  

Have you not known? Have you not heard? 

The Lord is the everlasting God, 

the Creator of the ends of the earth. 

He does not faint or grow weary; 

his understanding is unsearchable. (Isaiah 40:28 ESV)

I've not thought specifically about the word "unsearchable" in that verse before. In the days of the Internet and search engines, the word "search" is more common than it was pre-computer days. But the word "unsearchable" is not such a common word. The thesaurus lists as its synonyms words like "inscrutable", "mysterious", and "enigmatic".

And indeed this is the impression you get of God as you read the Bible carefully.

After God spoke to Job (recorded in Job 40-41), Job said this: 

Then Job answered the Lord and said:

“I know that you can do all things,
    and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.

‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’
Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand,
    things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. (Job 42:1-3)

Paul agrees: "Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!" (Romans 11:33 ESV)

And one of my long-time favourite Psalms 139 starts this way:

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!

You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
    you discern my thoughts from afar.

You search out my path and my lying down
    and are acquainted with all my ways.

Even before a word is on my tongue,
    behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.

You hem me in, behind and before,
    and lay your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
    it is high; I cannot attain it.

For further pondering, see Ecclesiastes 8:14-17.

So ultimately, I think that I would do well if I could follow the wisdom of Proverbs 3:5: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding" (ESV). Easy to say, not so easy to live by every moment of the day and in every thought.

We are to tremble at problems that might not be solved the way we'd like them to, and at the same time "trust that all is well. [God's] good story is on-track." (Crabb, p 229) Because God "cannot and will not allow true disciples to be satisfied with less than the depths of His holy love. Suffering is inevitable in order to combat premature contentment with a comfortably blessed life. God can and will do a good work in us that empowers us to patiently endure life's difficulties. He does not prevent as we wait eagerly for the eternity of perfect joy He promised." (Crabb, p 228 and 229)

This is a bit of rambling post that I actually tremble to hit the "Publish" button on. But it's been pressing on my heart, so my hope is that these rag-tag thoughts might be a help to someone else.

Living with the tension of not understanding why

I finally got myself back to the gym this morning. Ever since my husband was in hospital in the latter half of November (followed by family holidays and school holidays), I haven't really caught up on work. And if I'm behind on work, I find it hard to justify the time it takes to go to the gym. Anyway, after five straight work-days at my desk (with just grocery shopping to interrupt my computer time), I'm feeling like I'm not paddling so desperately anymore. It's a nice feeling! 

The gym is a good place to think and process and I spent time thinking over the recent weeks and what I might write here this week.

So, after three weeks of very lazy holidays, our family got whiplash on the 6th when we went back to school and work. Work that I had put to one side over the break suddenly overwhelmed and I paddled with fervour. Those first ten days after getting back came with two big deadlines: 

1. The prayer booklet for Japan that I'm working with. From mid-November I was responsible for liaising with authors, acquiring content, and doing the initial edits. that was all due in my first week back.
2. Last Wednesday morning I taught about writing and social media at our mission's annual pre-home assignment workshop. It was a first for me to stand up in front of a mission workshop like this as "the expert" and it took both time to prepare for, and time to recover from!

In the latter part of last week it was a relief to have those two things over, and be able to concentrate on my more regular work (although #1 is by no means over, I've got more to do there, but I did [mostly] meet that particular deadline).

As I reflected on these weeks this morning, while working the machines, the undercurrent of grief that flows ever stronger, the older I get, worked its way closer to the surface. I've had to ignore it to meet my deadlines and get my work done, but on reflection, there's a lot of "brokenness" going on around me.

Australia's disasters
I think I may have offended some non-Australians recently when they've asked me about my country's state. As much as I love social media, it is capable of spreading misinformation and ugliness quickly. Most of the rest of the world has been under the impression that the majority of Australia is burning. Unfortunately, the fires are a more dramatic story than the devastating drought that my country's been labouring under for years now. And, yes, the fires are of enormous magnitude, but no, the majority of Australia is not on fire.

I hate the blame-casting. Of course, everyone who talks to us about it wants to know why the fires have been so bad this year (Australia has fires most summers). But so far as I can see there is no easy answer to this question. There are many factors that have tragically combined to produce this disaster. (Please note that I really don't want to have a discussion on this on social media and will delete comments on this post that are to that effect.)

Once again it hurts to be watching from a distance as our loved ones suffer. Though I am very thankful that none of my family or close friends have lost their houses or lives, my heart goes out to those who have. The air quality of our beautiful land has been difficult for many millions. And again, the suffering brought on by the drought is hard to comprehend, but our farmers, in particular, are doing it really tough.

Personal disasters
And then there's family and friends who are suffering just now, apart from the national disaster: watching a child die from cancer, trying to find a way through this year as a marriage dies, and dealing with the false accusations and old-boy-style of working in a new job. Just a few of the currents that are running under the surface of my life at present.

I'm trying to compartmentalise: seeking to enjoy the blessings God brings into my life (thanking him for clean air to breathe, for example) while at the same time holding the pain of my friends (which is also my own to a certain degree).

Yesterday I listened to an English sermon while I ate lunch and did other household tasks. It was specifically about what God thinks about the fires in Australia. It pointed us back to the fact that this world is broken and groaning and nothing is going to fix it before Jesus comes back. The preacher compelled us to be compassionate and do what we can for those who are hurting, but also to fix our eyes on Jesus. To put full trust in him alone, because no other can save us in the long run. 

We can put the fires out, but will still die of some other cause later. We can follow God's lead to a new job, and find that the rug has been pulled from underneath us before we even arrived. We can be as good as we possibly can, but still have the person we pledged to love forever turn their back on us. We can devote our lives to serving others, only to have cancer take our lives.

God's most extensive answer to someone who asked "Why?" that is recorded in the Bible is in Job. If you read through chapters 38 to 41, you quickly have your breath taken away. God didn't answer Job's question about why he suffered so greatly, but rather revealed to Job the vast chasm of difference between his knowledge and power and God's. Afterall what human can answer the question: "Do you send the lightning bolts on their way? Do they report to you, 'Here we are'?" (38:35 NIV).

And again in Isaiah 40 God speaks to his people, people who are in a world of pain: exiled, crushed, and without hope. He points to his great power and wisdom, "Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket, or weighed the mountains on the scales and the hills in a balance?" (v12 NIV).

So, I'm pointed back to God, who says:

"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perpelxed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destoryed... 

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal" (2 Cor. 4:8, 9, 18 NIV).

For me, now, today, that means continuing to trust God no matter what comes across my path. I don't understand and don't want, the pain, grief, or strife. But I won't turn my back on God, whose understanding far surpasses mine. For the time being, we all have to live with the tension of not-understanding: just like we do when we watch a movie that doesn't lay out all the pieces at the start.

Emotional rollercoaster

The last ten days have been full of some ugly stuff for us. Three of the things that have entered our lives, via people we love, are stories that aren't mine to tell but are things experienced by many. Three things that have driven me to tears. Things that we wish didn't exist and make us long for heaven and perfect health and relationships.

The one that we can tell, I wrote about yesterday: the financial situation that means our plans for next year are currently on hold. That has been hard to take also, especially this close to our anticipated return to Japan. After many years of having sufficient support, I guess we probably took it for granted a little and so it was unexpected (not that we've ceased in all the last 20 years to pray for ongoing financial support). 

I've struggled with nausea and appetite during these days. We got the initial financial news last Wednesday just before we went off to one of the highlights of our home assignment: watching a live international cricket match (first time ever). Talk about emotional rollercoasters! I was lucky to get away without throwing up on someone.

In the midst of this rollercoaster, we've still been meeting with people and spent much of Sunday driving to a church on the Sunshine coast and speaking there.

Today we're in the still centre of the storm: we've sent out our prayer letter with the news, we've told our boys, and now we wait until a key finance person comes back from holidays next week and more discussion happens. Meanwhile, we wait and hope and pray. 

And—I need to say—recover. These blows have come at a time when we're feeling pretty weary. We've worked hard to visit many churches and groups in the last 4 1/2 months and are longing for our planned holidays in December. We also long for certainty about the future, but that will have to wait, though a decision will have to be made about our accommodation before Christmas.

Earlier this afternoon I posted a photo of the trunk of the gum tree (and I've used it here too) I can see from my desk in our front yard. I realised that I can't see the whole majesty of this tree from close up, not even my desk that is about five metres from the tree (with a small awning in the way). You have to stand way back off the property to see the whole tree well. Aren't difficulties we encounter like that? We can only see part of the whole. We certainly rarely can see much beauty in them. It takes time and distance to see any good out of them at all. So we wait. We don't know the end of the story of any of the ugly things that have happened in our lives recently and not knowing the end is really hard. But we have to trust.

"I will say of the Lord, 'He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.'" (Ps 91:2 NIV).

I'm also reminded of the great passage of Romans 8, especially the end: 

"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" (vs 38-39 NIV).

Food for thought

Usually I share my own words here, but I've come across some good words of others in the last 24 hours that I want to share.

First is musings from the hospital bed of our mission's Japan director. He's battling two kinds of blood cancer. The post is pretty self-explanatory and very insightful.

Life in Limbo by David Ferguson
Most of us probably live our lives with a reasonable degree of predictability. There is routine. We make plans and generally they come to pass. We might even set goals and seek to fulfil them. Tomorrow will come, next week will come and while we know that things can change suddenly, generally life moves on with some measure of certainty. 

What happens though when that certainty is taken away? What if you don't know what's going to happen? What if there are questions but no answers - or at least no answers that are very definitive? Not easy if you're the kind of person who likes certainty, who makes plans and who wants to know what's going to come next. For the last months we've lived with that uncertainty - life is in limbo!

My particular case is rare. I don't just have one blood cancer (and that type is unusual enough) but another more aggressive one too which makes my situation even more unique and more uncertain. It's hard even for the doctors to predict and sometimes the answer is ‘we don't know!’ One doctor friend back home said this which sums it up well : ‘humanly speaking there remains a lot of uncertainty about what may happen - it's a high stakes battle and there usually aren't any guarantees’. 

So how do you deal with that and live in limbo? Well, one way is just to let go and accept that however much we might like to be in control of our lives and know with some certainty what's going to happen, that will not be the case. You have to learn to live with uncertainty. You need to take a day at a time knowing tomorrow might bring different news which may even just add to the uncertainty! All of that is easier said than done. We can know times of peace as well as times of anxiety, fretting and simply wanting to know where it's all going!

There is something else though and that is learning more and more to trust the One who does know the beginning from the end and who knows exactly what is happening and what will happen. Maybe one of the purposes of this whole time is simply that as a family we might learn that valuable lesson even more. There is a great verse in Proverbs which says - ‘Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails’. Sometimes it is like opening both hands to God, one crying to him with our heart’s desires and the other saying ‘may your will be done’. And in the midst of it all trusting in our unchangeable and faithful God is the only place to go if we want real certainty. ‘Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see’. As a follower of Jesus, there may well be many things in our lives we don't understand or for which there don't seem to be answers but as we lift our eyes to our God and fix our eyes on the unseen things, we find a certainty which will never fail us.

Wise words from the depths of a really difficult situation. We've had situations of waiting and "limbo" before, but none that have been life-threatening. Our biggest time of limbo was when we were preparing to come to Japan. We spent a couple of years waiting for financial-clearance-green-light from our mission. We learnt much in that time of waiting that has stood us in good stead in the years since.

As the years go by, we've also prayed for many who have been in life-threatening situations. Some have had miraculous recoveries or rescues, others have instead had their lives on this earth ended. For those who were Christians, their miraculous healing didn't happen in front of us, but instead as they entered heaven. 

So, knowing that God heals and has the power to work in these situations can make it difficult to know how to pray. Here I found another couple of lengthy quotes as I read Prayer by Timothy Keller last night.

Augustine [a great theologian in the first millennia after Jesus] . . . argues that not only can we grow in prayer in spite of these difficulties but because of them. He concludes his letter [to a young widow friend who'd lost almost everything in the sacking of Rome in 410AD] by asking his friend, "Now what makes this work [of prayer] specially suitable to widows but their bereaved and desolate condition?" Should a widow not, he asked, "commit her widowhood, so to speak, to her God as her shield in continual and most fervent prayer?" What a remarkable statement. Her sufferings were her "shield"--they defended her from the illusion of self-sufficiency and blindness that harden the heart, and they opened the way for the rich, passionate prayer life that could bring peace in any circumstance. He calls her to embrace the situation and learn to pray." (p88)

These are again Augustine's thoughts on prayer:

Even the most godly Christian can't be sure what to ask for when we are enduring difficulties and suffering. "Tribulations...may do us good... and yet because they are hard and painful...we pray...that they may be removed from us." Should we pray, then, for a change in circumstances or just for strength to endure them? Augustine points to Jesus' own prayer in Gethsemane, which was perfectly balanced between honest desire ...and submission to God...He points also to Romans 8:26, which promises that the Spirit will guide our hearts and prayers when we are groaning and confused_and God will hear them even in their imperfect state. So, Augustine concludes, pour out your heart's desire, but remember the wisdom and goodness of God as you do so. (pp87-88)

Food for thought, all of it.

What do we do with all this disaster news?

Bushfires in New South Wales, typhoons in the Philippines, Japan, Vietnam and Guam, mudslides in Japan, floods in Japan, hail storms in Queensland, earthquakes in Japan, tornadoes in the US. All this is recent and I feel like I'm being slammed by disaster news too often. I don't know what to do with it all.

Earlier in the month I read Philip Yancey's recent (e)book, The Question That Never Goes Away.* He writes that because he's written on the topic of suffering before (most notably, Where is God When it Hurts?) he continues to be invited to talk on the topic.

He was invited to Japan last year for the one year anniversary of the earthquake/tsunami/ nuclear disaster. He was invited the same year to Sarajevo, a city that suffered under siege for four years, and at the end of that year was invited to speak to the community in the US where a man gunned down first graders and staff (Sandy Hook Elementary School).

So he writes:

I am well aware that no book can "solve' the problem of pain. Yet I feel compelled to pass along what I have learned from the land of suffering. (Ebook location 119)

Yancey asks, Where is God? and comes up with three answers.

1. God is on the side of the sufferer. He shares in our suffering. God does not overwhelm human freedom or even prevent evil from happening. Rather, what some meant for evil, God redeemed for good. (In the case of evil things happening that people cause directly.)

2. Where is God when it hurts? God is now in the church, God's delegated presence on earth. It might even be rephrased, "Where is the church when it hurts?"

Time will not heal all wounds. Even God will not heal all wounds, at least not in this life. Meanwhile, we in the church have work to do. Some have particular gifts . . . All of us have the power of love. Suffering isolates, batters self-image, ravages hope; a loving presence can prevail over all three. (Location 1221)

He writes, "If the church does its job, people don't torment themselves wondering where God is. They know the answer. God becomes visible though people."

3. God is preparing a new and perfect home for us. Jesus asks for our trust that he's got our future under control.

He quotes Terry Waite, who was a hostage for four years in Lebanon,

I have been determined in captivity, and still am determined, to convert this experience into something that will be useful and good for other people. I think that's the best way to approach suffering. It seems to me that Christianity doesn't in any way lessen suffering. What it does is enable you to take it, to fact it, to work through it, and eventually to convert it. (Location 1254)

So, we "cling to the promise that the God of all comfort has not abandoned us but continues a slow and steady work to restore what evil and death have spoiled."

And he ends the book with a quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a Christian martyr during the Nazi regime. He wrote this shortly before his execution.

I believe that God can and will generate good out of everything, even out of the worst evil. For that, he needs people who allow that everything that happens fits into a pattern for good.

I believe that God will give us in each state of emergency as much power of resistance as we need. But he will not give in advance, so that we do not rely on ourselves but on Him alone. Through such faith all anxiety concerning the future should be overcome.

I believe that even our mistakes and failings are not in vain, and that it is not more difficult for God to cope with these as with our assumed good deeds.

I believe that God is not a timeless fate, but that He waits for and responds to honest prayers and responsible action. (Location 1264-5)

There is no stopping these disasters. We can but continue to pray to our God who cares, that good will come out of these this suffering. We can but continue to play our part in "being present" in whatever way God calls us to be. We can but continue to look forward to the time when all will be right again and suffering will no longer be a given. And we can continue to know that we are not abandoned.

 * See here for his blog post about the book.

Forgive myself

Forgiving myself is something that's been on my mind in recent weeks. I've wanted to write about it, but haven't had the words. I still don't. But seeing as we're focussed this weekend on Christ's death and subsequent resurrection: all for the purpose of giving us forgiveness, I thought it was appropriate to explore this issue a little.

Here's my admission: I have trouble forgiving myself for things I do that hurt others.

For as long as I remember, I've trusted in God to forgive me of my sins. I've trusted that Christ's death on the cross paid all my debt to God for the wrong things I've done and for the right things I haven't done.

Why then, do I hold onto my own wrongs, like I need to punish myself or something? Something I read earlier this year suggested it could be related to things you learnt as a child, about how apologies were approached in your childhood. Maybe . . . but I'm not laying any blame.

I've just done a quick Google search and found a good article on self-forgiveness.

Here are some quotes and my comments:

If you do not forgive yourself of past sins, it is a form of pride. Whenever we enact a different set of rules, a higher set of standards for ourself over others, that is pride. When we can find it within ourself to forgive others, but not ourselves, we are saying that we are less capable of making a poor decision than others. We are somehow more intuitive, wiser, more insightful, more careful than others, and therefore, we are without excuse and should not forgive ourselves. When we reject the forgiveness extended to us by God and others, when we refuse to forgive ourselves, what we are doing is setting ourselves above others and that is pride! 

Well, that makes sense. I'm guilty of pride. The last sentence does highlight another problem, however. That it is more difficult to forgive myself when I don't receive forgiveness from the other person. But perhaps not forgiving myself is a form of rejecting God's forgiveness of myself?

To continue to rehearse in our thoughts the events of our transgression, opposes Philippians 4:8 which tells us to dwell on whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, and admirable.

Yes, I understand that. It's hard, though, to control those nasty thoughts. I had an period in my life just over two years ago that plagued me for months, a time where my mistakes haunted me. It still does feature in my thoughts from time to time. And the consequences of those mistakes and subsequent actions and reactions from a couple of other people still haunt me. It's hard to forget. Although I don't dwell on them as much as I used to, I still struggle from time to time.

There is a prayer at the end of the above mentioned post, here's a portion of it:

Because Jesus died for my sins, I choose to forgive myself--to no longer punish myself and be angry with myself. I forgive myself for letting this hurt control me and for hurting others out of my hurt. I repent of this behavior and my attitude. I ask for Your forgiveness and healing.

Amen.

I suspect this will be a life-long struggle, but now it is out in the open (that I see how much of a pride issue it is), I'm hoping that I can move faster to forgive myself than I have in the past.

I'm interested in your thoughts. Have you struggled with this? How have you dealt with it?

One of Japan's dark secrets

Yesterday I went on a day trip to a place south of Yokohama called Kamakura. It is about 60km south of here. Kamakura is a small town that was Japan's political centre for over a century from 1192 A.D. It has many temples and shrines and even a beach and an island. Tourists flock there (see here).


The trip was organised by the wife of our regional director, particularly to visit the temple where people go to pray for the souls of dead children and aborted babies. We spent time listening to a short-term missionary tell us about her experience with post-abortion counselling in the US and then about what she's discovered about Japan's situation. Ohhhhh, it's terrible.

The many statues here were shocking to see.
This is less than a third of all the statues we saw
in this small area.

You probably don't know, but oral contraception has not been available here until quite recently. In fact abortion has an accepted form of birth control for centuries. It is believed that at least 1 million abortions are performed every year. Approximately one in three women have had one, and many women have had several.


We also learned that some doctors practice infanticide. Where, if an obviously disabled child is born, they'll kill it and tell the mother is was still born! The evils hard to even type here.

It was hard to see the exploitation of pain. Their
grief is taken advantage of by selling all sorts of
incense, candles, and various charms, and tablets.
Temples are a money making business for sure.

One of the ways they deal with the emotional pain is by visiting temples and making offerings, having a special ceremony, burning incense etc. 
Yesterday we went to a temple that is especially visited by people who had abortions or children who died. The temple houses the kannon, a popular Japanese Buddhist deity who helps in the raising of healthy children. However, in recent years, parents have set up statues (see photo) to represent their aborted babies. Parents visit there to pray for the souls of their lost children. They are considered to be still alive and have a link to this world via the cemetery. They seek to maintain some active verbal or emotional communication with the dead child so that the soul of the dead child doesn't seek retribution upon the mother or living family. (I don't really understand the above, but am largely repeating what has been explained to me.)


There is much tragedy here in this issue, but one of the tragedies are the women who continue on living as if everything is okay (emotional control is a high value here), but who are devastated inside. Like other problems in Japanese society they are covered up by the family so that no one else knows of the shame. You can only wonder how much of the depression and other mental illnesses that many Japanese suffer stem from this one issue.


I get mad when people rave about how amazing Japan is. When they've just visited here briefly and seen the glamorous, polite Japan, the polished outside, the portrayed image that we'd all supposed to believe — they don't really know how much pain and ugliness is hidden underneath.  They miss how much Japan needs true hope.