Resident missionaries at a high school camp

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bush!

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

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

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

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

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

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

End of our Perth trip: it was good and hard

Birthday cheesecake.
A very rare occasion
when I didn’t make it myself! 

It’s only been ten days since I last wrote, but a lot has happened in that time. In terms of what we’ve done, we:

• Spoke in front of small and large groups (six times, once in Japanese).
• Had meals or “coffee” with people while answering questions about our life and ministry (eight times at least, I think).
• Spent about 40 hours at a church camp, interacting almost all the time we weren’t asleep.
• Travelled back to Brisbane (about four and a half hrs on a plane).
• Celebrated our middle son’s birthday with a family party on our 26th wedding anniversary.
• Spent a number of hours planning for future events.

Many evenings we’ve had things on: a dinner or party, an event to speak at, or we’ve been travelling. That’s been hard, because we’re used to relaxing after dinner. Talking intently to people until 9.30 at night doesn’t help with sleep!

We are, however, getting into the groove and I’m feeling more relaxed in front of a group than a month ago. But still, we long for a much more settled life. Alas home assignment is never settled. There is no routine, no “normal week”. We’re working towards the goal of going back to Japan in July next year, so there’s no incentive to get really settled here either.

And then there’s all the conversations that make me feel unsettled and uneasy. All the questions about our lives. Many of them are great questions, but explaining our lives over and over again isn’t easy. And it is exhausting trying to discern what someone wants to know, or what they already know about us. The hardest questions (aside from  the “So how’s Japan?” ones) are about things that I feel insecure or somewhat regretful about. They touch on what I, like these people, have imagined in the past a “perfect” missionary looks like: wonderful language skills (our kids included in that), amazing evangelism stories, and a clear, succinct answer on why Japan hasn’t been receptive to the gospel. 

Questions about how our kids are doing are constant and not easy. Some are from people who have read between the lines on our prayer letters and know that we’ve struggled. Others are from people who don’t know us at all. How do I summarise and satisfy people’s desire to know about us, without sharing too much that our boys don’t want shared?

It’s been exhausting, but, despite all my discomfort, ultimately very good. We especially like interacting with small groups. I think two of my favourite events in the last week were groups of 20 and 50. Both had atmospheres of informality and the kind of intimacy that invited honesty and excellent questions. After events like that, speaking for six minutes in front of a church felt quite flat and shallow.

We flew back on Monday, arriving home after 10pm. So grateful we didn’t have to take a red-eye like we’ve done every other time from Perth to Brisbane, but still tired. We’ve had a slower week, but still had appointments to get to, and next week to prepare for. 

Next week is another big one: from Sunday for four days we’re at a regional church high schoolers camp. These are usually great times to interact, especially with the leaders. But I’m going to be careful about managing my energy and taking downtime. At least we don’t have our own children to take care of at the same time, like we did last time we did a school-aged camp (?about nine years ago).

On the home front: our time in Perth was a big event. It was the first time we’d done an overnight ministry trip away without our guys, and we did it for 18 days! It was good for us all to experience that. Our two younger sons lived at home during that time and by all observations did well. They felt the pinch of not having a car at their disposal, but they got by. They’re gradually learning about life in Australia, which is good, as this is where they’ll be for a while to come. It was good for us as a couple to experience an extended time away from our kids too. We had fun doing some different things as we stand on the cusp of living life again as a couple after nearly 25 years of having kids in our home.

Our trip to Rottnest Is. was a highlight I mentioned
in my last blogpost.

We usually set up some kind of “table” display
wherever we go. We managed to squeeze some things
into our luggage for Perth. Packing for Perth is another
story: it was done at the end of an exceptionally
busy day and I didn’t do a great job personally. I 
wish I’d taken a larger bag and more clothes.

A sand bar at Point Walter on the Swan River.

Catching public transport, especially buses, in
an unfamiliar city was a new challenge.

This was the auditorium at the church camp. Very reminiscent of the place where we first started applying to be long-term missionaries in Queensland.

Western Australia work trip

It's over a week since we arrived in Western Australia and a lot has happened. In addition to speaking at five formal meetings in the last week, we've met a handful of people over coffee/meals, as well as enjoying fellowship with our hosts. On top of that I've had three Zoom meetings with people in Japan (and other places).

Anyone who's been following us on social media will know we've been enjoying getting out and seeing some sights in this region too. We spent a few hours in Kings Park, time in Fremantle, and a day out on Rottnest Is, as well as several walks around our local area in western Perth/eastern Fremantle. We spent several hours at the Western Australia Maritime Museum too. Check out some photos at the end of this post!

To be guests has been a welcome break from being the ones in charge of the household and meals. This is the longest trip away from our kids that we've ever had in 24 years, and it's been quite enjoyable so far. When we left Queensland we were wondering if we had been wise in planning this trip. It hasn't quite looked like we'd imagined, but have had to trust God that he's had things planned that we couldn't see or imagine.

This coming week includes six more formal meetings, a couple of informal meetings, as well as being guest missionaries at a church camp before we fly back to Brisbane on Monday. I'm guessing I'll be pretty exhausted on Monday and Tuesday, and maybe even Wednesday next week!

Enjoy the following photos from this remote part of the world. I checked out that by finding some statistics. We're 4,328km from our home in Ipswich, Queensland. That would take us around 46 hours to drive, according to Google. It's around 110 miles less than the distance from Los Angeles to New York, but that trip would take around 41 hours (same source). For a European comparison, the distance is from approximately the top of Scotland to Athens, Greece. Perth is closer to Singapore and Jakarta than it is to the east coast of Australia.

One of these days, we're hoping to see more than just a tiny part of this giant state, just not this time. But a good rule to remember is to leave wanting to come back again some other time!

Perth: old and new, like many cities.

View of the Swan River from King's Park.

Another angle of the park with the river in the background.

This young magpie wasn't bothered by me or the reversing car on our driveway.

Black swans on a local lake.

Our national flower: the Golden Wattle.
This one had particularly large, vibrant flowers.

Australia 2,  the boat which famously won the America's Cup in 1983.
Located in the Western Australia Maritime Museum.

After wandering around Fremantle for a few hours we had a decadent afternoon tea.
This cake is called Death by Chocolate, and despite sharing it, we couldn't finish it.

Out on Rottnest Is. The colour of the sea was spectacular
all the way around the island. I used to associate colours
like this with tropical islands, but that's not true of Rottnest.

We had lunch with this view (180 degrees, actually), with almost
no one else around.

No private vehicles are allowed on the island, so if you're able,
bikes are the perfect way to see the sights. It seemed like every five minutes or so 
we were hopping off our bikes to check out a new scene. Stunning!

Quokkas are native to the island. The ones in the populated part of the island 
were quite bold, but we did see three in another part that were more timid.

Working: this group of around 50 people from two or three churches
 gathered on Friday night to hear about OMF and mission work in Japan.
They provided a yummy dinner too! It was a great evening, but I
came home exhausted!

Cliffs at Point Walter Reserve on the Swan River.

Cute shaded beach on the river. With my pale skin
a rare beach with shade is worthy of attention!

Different ways of working

For the last three weeks, I’ve had Tuesday morning free to go to our local library and write. This last week was different. We spoke at a growth group from a supporting church (the same church we spent Sunday at, teaching in the Sunday school, being interviewed up front by the pastor, and talking to people before and after the service). It’s a more immersive approach to reporting back to a church that we’re thoroughly enjoying. And it’s made possible by having no school-pickups or needing childcare.

That same evening we went to another growth group from the same church, the first time we’ve worked in the evening like this for a long time. We’re far more used to working during the day and relaxing at night, and neither of us are night owls. It took a long time for me to chill out enough to sleep Tuesday night, and a while to get moving on Wednesday. 

In fact on Wednesday, an admin and preparation day, it was really hard to concentrate and check things off the list of things we had to do. Neither of us are used to working in pairs for planning and executing plans. Both of us usually work on our own for the “thinking” parts of our jobs. It’s not that we mind working together, and in fact we complement each other quite well, but it’s another adjustment, quite a large one.

We had another big day on Thursday: several hours of talking with people at a theological college in the morning, time spent with a couple of different professionals in the afternoon dealing with family matters, plus over three hours of city driving. It was tiring. And then when we got home we had

We got the crowd at the theology college
discussing tricky questions.

to finish packing for our 18-day ministry trip to Perth (west coast).

On Friday we dragged ourselves out of bed with the sun and made it to the airport with time to spare, but not really on top of our game. The flight was good—on time and fairly smooth—but we happened to have seats amidst a group of very verbose older folk. Two of the ladies rarely stopped talking during the six-hour flight. It was wearing.

Now we’ve got mild jet lag, Ironic, really, that we can get that here, with a domestic flight, but not really when flying to Japan (one hour difference between Qld and Japan, two hours difference between Qld and Western Australia). I was awake before 5 am this morning, despite my fatigue. But, it’s mild and will resolve quickly. I can’t fathom what many of my international friends cope with, flying across multiple time zones!

The plan for our time in Perth is to visit supporting churches, individual supporters, and also to connect with the OMF network over here. It’s looking different to what we expected it might, but in a few ways that’s really good—when our expectations are foiled, we have to depend on God more, and seek what his plans are.

This is our first multiple-day ministry trip away from home without children. And the first time we’ve ever been away from our guys for more than five days. It’s different for us all, and will require some time to adjust to.

In addition to meetings, we’re planning some relaxing time. This is a beautiful part of the world that not so many people are privileged to see (many Australians never get over to the west coast), it’s always a special treat to be able to come here. One day we’ll plan it that we can get out of this small built-up part of the state and see some other parts of this massive state (the second largest in the world, Texas is only 26th on that list).

We’re missing our usual jobs and ways of working. Gracious, I’m even missing my newly formed Tuesday morning writing habit! But for now we need to be patient with ourselves and each other as we learn new rhythms of life and work for this season.

Transplant shock

A close friend has watched me struggle this week. Struggle with work not going as expected, with criticism, with ups and downs; struggle with expectations of our kids, of ourselves, and “the system”, with impatience and frustration, and with a poor sense of time passing. She’s watched and prayed as my emotions soured and bottomed out. And she’s pondered the analogy of “transplant shock”.

Transplant shock is something that can happen when a plant is transplanted from one pot to another, or from one “in ground” location to another. My limited research tells me it can last a couple of weeks, or, in the case of larger plants like trees, a couple of years. It’s got to do with how well the roots are able to absorb water and nutrients from the soil. There are various things you can do to prevent it, or to help a plant recover from it, but patience is also needed.

We finally put up some pictures on the wall
this week, I was longing to see this old
favourite: my preserved wedding bouquet!
But I commented to a couple of friends
that my bedroom looked more settled than

I felt!

Now I don’t want to take the analogy too far. But it’s helpful to think about, especially as we get impatient with ourselves and those around us. We’ve had a very large transition and it’s going to take time, probably more time than we (and others) realise, to recover. Of course we want to feel settled as fast as possible, especially because this isn’t a once only transition, we anticipate we’ll be here only a year and then another transition will happen. Somehow we humans are programmed to try to avoid pain. But being impatient and frustrated with it all will probably only make things worse.

How do I know if a plant is suffering from transplant shock? Withered or drooping leaves, fruit or leaves abruptly dropping, dying branches, easily bruised.

How do I know that I am still suffering from transplant shock? Quickly wearied, easily knocked “off balance”. A poor sense of time passing (it seems like a long time since last Friday, for example). Memory issues, poor concentration. I’m sometimes homesick for familiar routines and a familiar environment, sometimes dominating a conversation with memories from Japan. Emotional, tears are falling more easily at the moment.

That’s enough of a list, I think.

The cure? Lots of common sense stuff: eat well, exercise, rest, and sleep. Being patient. And keeping a good longer-term perspective. As a Christian, keeping my eyes on Jesus, on my rock. Plus, being thankful for all that we’ve achieved with God’s help so far in this transition (which actually is quite a lot). And perhaps taking the ups and downs a little less seriously?

Do you have any other suggestions?

An aha moment

Every time we’ve come on home assignment (this is our fifth) I’ve made a photo album about our recent term of service to share with people. It’s been a very helpful tool when we meet informally with small groups, or over meals, or even when chatting with someone after a church service that we've spoken at. So now we have a collection of five photo albums summarising our last 22 1/2 years!

This year I wondered if I was going to get a photo album done before I left Japan (or at all). Back in February (see this blog post) there seemed like so much to do. Photo album was on the list, but it was way down below other priorities like "moving", "handing over our work to others", and "finding somewhere to live in Australia". But I found some time to do it in the last week before we headed to conference, after I'd handed most of my work on to others and before we started packing up our house.

The other day I pulled out the earliest photo album to show some ladies who know our eldest son . . . the first photo album shows his early days in Japan and they loved seeing that. The aha moment came later when I thought about how detailed the first couple of albums were, compared to the ones I’ve made the last couple of times. How did I have the time?

I realised that those first two albums were made when my role in Japan was mostly full-time stay at home mum. A role that was busy, but didn't completely satisfy my creative tendencies and also had many little moments that I could use for an extra project. The photo albums are evidence of that. They are also evidence that, as my kids have grown and become more independent and busy outside the home, I've also taken on more work that's focussed outside the home.

That realisation led to me further realising that I should never been afraid that I'm being too lazy. That, over the years, I've naturally filled my time with productive and creative things. And I appear to keep filling up my time until I reach my limit. Another place to see that is this blog. From 2009 when I started it, until late 2017 I wrote here most days. What happened in 2017? I took on new roles: OMF Japan's social media and website content.

That fear of laziness? I'm a conscientious soul, always have been, and I don't like the thought that I'm wasting my precious time on this earth. Because I work flexible hours at home on several different jobs it can be difficult to tell if I'm working at my capacity. Over the years I think it's become a little easier to read the signs that I'm overdoing it, however sometimes I still don't recognise that until I've stepped over the "too busy" line.

I knew that I'd be tired yesterday, because we had a run of high-octane days last week: several intense, but good times with friends and colleagues, the start of deputation meetings, and sorting through years of accumulated resources related to speaking about Japan here (unpacked it easily took over our dining room and office). Amidst all that, various other things continued to need our attention, including medical and bureaucratic matters. 

Thankfully yesterday we could just call a halt to the craziness and we focussed hard on "not doing", not opening the computer and not talking about work stuff. I'm feeling better today, but know that I need to be cautious. We're still recovering from this major transition and don't quite have the stamina we're used to when we're settled in Japan.

It's amazing to me that at 50 I'm still learning more about myself. This realisation about my internal drive to fill my days makes it easier to push though this very fuzzy year known as home assignment. We don't have anyone closely looking over our shoulder to tell us to work harder or to take it easier. No one assigns us a schedule or tells us what meetings we have to attend. We don't have to report to anyone the number of hours that we work and we don't have as many deadlines as I usually juggle. All in all, there's not much accountability for our day-to-day activities and it's easy to wonder if we're doing an okay job, or if we're wasting time.

But then there's the debrief we had earlier in the month with a psychologist. She recommended we take things a bit easier this year, even aim for boredom! (I usually avoid boredom pretty studiously.) 

We've carried a fair weight these last few years as parents of someone who isn't neurotypical (see this blog post from last year when I poured out something of what that has meant). I hesitate to call myself a "carer", as many others carry much heavier, full-time caring responsibilities, but it is similar. It's something that is hard to escape, but also something that is woven into the fabric of our lives in a way that has changed us and how we live. The psychologist challenged us, as we work towards the goal of all our boys living separately from us, to explore things and ways of living that we've just had to avoid in the past, in order to survive. It’s going to be an interesting adventure. 

But my big challenge now is trusting, moment-by-moment that we will eventually get there, that we will make it through this transition time. 

 I need to do what David did when he wrote Psalm 62, tell myself: “Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him. Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I shall not be shaken. My salvation and my honour depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. Trust in him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge (vv 5–8 NIV)”.

A typical week, not a chance!

No, no one has asked me yet what a typical week is on home assignment. I can't say we've had a typical week yet, and we probably won't ever get there these twelve months. We've now been in Australia for a month and our weeks have included:

• collecting furniture
• shopping
• setting up home internet
• sorting out stuff we've had stored for 4 ½ years
• figuring out how to make a functional home and office from the stuff we own and the stuff we've been given
• buying a car
• sorting out red tape—including stuff related to driver's licences, applying for Blue cards (child safety clearance), changing addresses, insurance
• debriefs of various sorts for our organisation
• medical stuff—bi-annual checks for our organisation, hunting down referrals to specialists, skin checks, blood tests etc. (this has actually taken up a lot more time that you might imagine)
• starting to get involved in mid-week events at our home church
• university open day
• social time—with our eldest son, with good friends
• driving lessons
• preparation for speaking events coming up
• a prayer meeting
• meeting with other members of our organisation to catch up
• walking and orientating ourselves to the local community

  

  The hardest thing to set up was our dining 
  room/home office. Without an extra bedroom
  we've had to juggle our living area to accom-
  modate a working area too. It turns out that 
  this large table doubles quite nicely for work 
  (except for me, thankfully I am able to
  work at the shorter desk you can see in the 
  corner).

  
  

Phew! In between all that I've been trying to do my best to relax by having a coffee break on our deck with a book in the afternoon, when I'm home. Other things that have helped me feel more grounded have been household management things—meal planning, grocery shopping on a regular day, regular basic cleaning, and baking. 

"There’s a big difference between living and visiting." That phrase that popped into my mind recently. A lot of what we've been doing is related to living here. We're not on a brief visit or trip. We need to, as best we can, establish our lives here for the next 12 months. That's been hard work, and it doesn't feel like it's over yet, though perhaps the pace is slowing as we gradually tick off once-off things.

Two weeks tomorrow we're flying to the west coast for 18 days to visit churches and others over there for work. That deadline looms large. We'd like our sons to be as settled as they can be at this time so they can manage independently for the longest time we've ever been away from them. We also want to be as prepared as we can for the speaking work we'll be doing over there . . . alas we're still waiting on replies from several people, so it's more last minute than we're really happy with. 

Ah, God's got us on our toes. But I'm reminded that he's the God who goes before us (Deut. 31:8) and that his mercies are new every morning (Lam. 3:22–24, KJV, more modern versions say "compassion"). And these are the truths I need to be repeating to myself when I dream/drowse in the early hours of the morning and my thoughts get filled with anxious thoughts.