Family in Fukushima

"If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters--yes, even his own life--he cannot be my disciple." - Luke 14:26

I have to admit that when I flipped to Luke to find the reading for today's English Bible study and read the above verse, I definitely wrinkled my nose. Who likes talking about hating family? Who likes talking about the hard parts of being a disciple? How am I going to talk about this with English students who come from a culture that values family loyalty very highly? How do I speak truth and balance it with grace?

I read the passage about a week ago and found those questions spinning around in my head all this last week, as I thought of how to attempt to teach this passage. Rolling them around in my head and praying for guidance didn't seem to be getting anywhere--I found myself just crying up at God in frustration, "God! Why do you even have passages like this in the Bible? What do they mean?"

Then Sunday happened. And I found myself crying and smiling at the same time, saying, "Ok, God...I think I get that verse a little better now."

Sunday, my pastor's wife left for the hospital for her upcoming surgery. It sounds so bland and un-relational to say such things: "my pastor's wife." Using the English language, that is her relationship to me, I guess. But those words and that relational title doesn't do ANYTHING to describe the actual relationship. It does nothing to describe how she fights for us and with us against darkness and despair. It does nothing to communicate the care she shows in her small gifts and countless shared meals or the times when she comes into the classroom and just chats for awhile about the day. It does nothing to communicate the fact that she is like my family.

There is a part of me that feels bruised inside even as I say that. My family. "God, I already have a family--one you gave me!" I want to say. My dad and mom and siblings are very dear to me! My grandparents, who probably don't know they are dear to me because they only hear from me once a year or so, are people that I care about. But I don't get to spend holidays with them, don't get to share daily struggles with them, don't get to see how they're doing and what they're doing. Can we chat on skype, share things, pray for each other? Certainly. But it is...different.

There is a part of me that feels disloyal when I say that the Nomura's and Cindy are my family here. But Sunday afternoon, while we were praying for Ryoko's surgery, sharing lunch together, and driving around doing errands ("Dad" and "Mom" in the front seat, Cindy and I in the back), there was an overwhelming sense of peace and safety--the feeling that comes from being with family. And it is a feeling of joy and love, as well as sadness and tension.

People often seem to treat missionaries as though they enjoy mission work because they are bold and daring. Many people seem to think that we have no longings for our families and home, because we are so bent on excitedly doing God's will. Let me tell you--at least for me, that's not true!

But...I can say--with amazement, thankfulness, and joy--that "giving up" my own family, to a certain extent, is both a sacrifice and a gift. A sacrifice because I love them and miss them, because I want to be "loyal" to them. A gift because I find myself with new families, with people that I trust to love and support and share with me. And a gift because I am given people to love dearly.

I wish I were better at communicating the tension--both the pain and sadness and the great joy and love! But maybe understanding simply comes with experiencing the sacrifice and God's provision. Does that sound like I'm putting myself up on a pedestal? Well, I don't mean to do so. Sacrificing things I want or think I need is not something I do well--trust me! But God is so good to guide me through the struggle and give me gifts--gifts that are better than anything I could ever imagine!

"If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters--yes, even his own life--he cannot be my disciple."

Oy. Even if I don't take this literally and simply read, "If one wants to be my disciple, he or she has to be prepared to give up everything," it still seems harsh and strong. But...but...but...

It's true. It's not just a verse for me to read over quickly and then push out of my mind. My family, in the end, is not what saves me. My life's goals and desires are not what bring forgiveness, peace, and joy... And God is the God who sees and provides, more than I can imagine. He pries things out of my grasp gently because He is planning on replacing those things with other blessings--at least for a season. At least, that has been my experience up to this point.

I still feel a little like crying and singing for joy. But...it's time to head to class, prep for students and get ready for this Bible study! :)

Here are some pictures of my "Fukushima Family" (with Victor too--who was definitely like a brother!:)). I cannot put into words how dear they are to me!

Richness in Fukushima

"Kami-sama wa ichiban 'rich' dakara..."

The simple words and smile of my pastor's wife made it look as though she were talking about the weather, not fielding discussions and questions about finances, the future, etc. "Because God is the richest..." she said confidently, in her no-nonsense way. How do we know that we're doing ok? How do we know that everything we need will be provided? How do we know that the very logical worries we have are no match for God's abundance? "Because God is the richest..."

Yes and amen... :)

While working in Niigata with my pastor and his wife, I was often struck by the bold comments of faith that came from both of them. When others seem completely discouraged...when I have no idea what to do...when worries and questions abound...comments about God's everyday love and faithfulness bring relief similar to a cool breeze bringing relief on a hot day.

My pastor's wife made that comment on Tuesday afternoon. Today is Friday, and every single day this week has shown us new people coming into the church, asking about classes, etc. Tonight Cindy and I received a telephone call--"A new high school student is here and wants to talk to you before joining a class! Can you come back to the church quick?" We threw our dress clothes back on and ran to the church, exclaiming as we went about the people God continues to bring into the church.

The words of my pastor's wife have stuck with me this week because I often try to give people what I do not have, or I try to work to produce a certain result that only God can give. So often--even in English class--I find myself searching for energy, enthusiasm, and outward joy to give to my students, so that they feel comfortable and enjoy learning. I forget that what everyone really needs are things stemming from God's abundance--mercy, grace, forgiveness, love, joy, peace, purpose and meaning...

I am richly blessed in working with my pastor and his wife! Cindy and I just learned earlier today that on Sunday, our pastor's wife will be heading to Tokyo for surgery. She's going to have a biopsy taken of a growth that could be cancerous, and if it seems dangerous or cancerous, the whole growth will be removed. The surgery is scheduled for Wednesday. Please, all of you who are reading this, remember her in prayer! Along with praying for a successful surgery, I am praying that God will remind her every moment of His abundance...just as God uses her frequently to remind me!

Joy in Fukushima

The second week of summer vacation for Cindy and I here brought some wonderful, much-needed time to pray, talk, study Japanese, plan, run, make jelly, pray and plan some more... :) Cindy and I comment frequently about how differently we communicate and how hard it is to communicate for us--it is not abnormal for us to be arguing about something and then burst into laughter when one of us insists, "Wait! I'm AGREEING with you, not arguing with you!" The communication mishaps actually bring some of the biggest blessings though, because they force us to truly talk, share, hash through things, argue, brainstorm, and pray a lot.

Two planning sessions of 4+ hours each and multiple discussions beforehand led to this:

You may say, "Um...Haidee...you do realize that is just a colored tree right? And a slightly pathetic-looking tree at that?"

Yes, yes, I agree with you. :) Trust me--any bulletin board making forces a painful awareness of my inability to draw, color, cut, or do anything slightly artistic. You have no idea how much I am grimacing at the picture of the tree on my screen right now.

However, what I'd like to draw your attention to are the "Truth...Love...Joy" captions. Why truth, love, and joy? Because joy is what I'd like our students to experience and receive when they come to class. And joy stems from receiving both truth and love. Look at it this way--a student of English needs to receive grammar and vocabulary before he or she can even try to put together understandable sentences. Grammar and vocab are, in essence, the "truth" side of English language learning. But a person who sits and studies grammar and vocab may not actually be able to communicate or engage in conversation--he or she needs to practice engaging in relationship and actually speaking English. This relational, conversational side is the "love" side of learning. And when both the truth side and the love side are present, then a student can hopefully engage in a fun, relaxed way (the "joy" side).

The fun thing is that this also works for God and the Bible. Have you ever tried to read the Bible and look at it simply through the lenses of truth, love, and joy? It's fascinating. Every week my Bible students and I read a section and try to answer the question "Who is the true God, according to this passage?" We rarely have time to get to the questions of love and joy, because we are often to blown-away with insights about God's character!

The second fun thing is that this also is applicable for myself, Cindy, Pastor, and the church members. This whole English-school-and-DCO-ministry thing is new for right now, and new things are sometimes pretty scary. It's hard to portray joy when you've just come from a discussion on finances, or when you feel overwhelmed, or when you feel judged. Last week, for me, brought many questions of personal goals and desires that made me question my ability or right or desire to even be working in Fukushima--not an easy time to feel joyful.

But the TRUTH is that God is Almighty, purposeful, all-knowing...and He's got it all under control.

The LOVE is that He provides grace, and His love for people is way stronger than anything I could ever conjure up...and He'll give me His love when I have nothing left to give of my own (which happens pretty frequently).

The JOY is watching Him burst through barriers, open doors, comfort the hurting, guide the seeking, and connect things and people in ways that I can't ever come close to dreaming up on my own.

Today I was unsure of how to handle talking about joy...but it has only gotten easier and easier throughout the day, as more new people wander through the doors of the church or call and ask about studying the Bible, studying English, bringing their children...

On the tree leaves, students and I wrote synonyms for joy and experiences of joy...I'll share more later of those later.

Resting in Fukushima

So, tonight as I was preparing the traditional evening curry dinner, I decided to document some of it as proof of our "homesteading" (according to Cindy) in Fukushima. Enjoy! :)

Onions and garlic...plus eggplant, mushrooms, carrots, peppers, and meat...

Curry served over rice with some spiced chai tea...and topped off with cold mint jelly blocks and strawberry ice cream (trust me, it's better than it looks)!

And then we spent the evening crocheting like two little old ladies...and listening to Taize music. :) Lovely. :)

dusk in fukushima

My feet beat a familiar rhythm on the wooden stairs, and then I find myself on the tar path. In a few steps, the tar dwindles off into gravel that winds between tall grasses and yellow wildflowers. I set my face away from the city and head toward the mountains.

Above me are strokes of pink and grey; around me is the blue of the river and the green of orchards. The breeze off the water and the slow setting of the sun brings relief from what was stifling heat during the day, and my body welcomes the cool air. Ducks sit in the tall grass at the water's edge, and a heron, startled by my presence, flies gracefully away.

As the last shades of pink and orange disappear behind the mountains, I turn to head home. The path before me is clothed in slowly-increasing darkness, but the lights of the city beckon to me from afar--the city, with all of the people and all of my questions.

For some reason, because I have spent time facing the mountains, I feel energy again to face the city, the people, and myself. And God and I share a moment together, as I run through the beauty He's made to go back to the people He loves.

Hugo on confrontation and truth... :)

Whoever donated books to my apartment here in Japan had very good taste--for which I rejoice. :) Before I left for Tokyo, I went through the normal agonizing decision regarding which book to take for the bus trip, and I was having to choose between C.S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters, a study in philosophical thought entitled From Hegel to Nietzsche, and Les Miserables (how do I type the accent mark? hmm....). And that's not even listing the books of poetry! My heart does internal happy dances over such luscious literary materials--really! How does one choose between such books? :)

Anyway, after many sighs and exclamations regarding the joys of literature, I decided to heft Les Miserables around for my time in Tokyo. Even after ten hours of transportation, I'm still only on page 544. Today I alternated between Japanese study and Les Mis and found this quality quote on truth that seemed to fit in with all of my "confrontation" questions:

"Let us attack, but let us distinguish. The characteristic of truth is never to run to excess. What need has she of exaggeration? Some things must be destroyed, and some things must be merely cleared up and investigated. What power there is in courteous and serious examination! Let us not carry flame where light alone will suffice."

A confronting business...

Henry Nouwen's words seemed to jump off the page at me when I read them and, a week later, they still seem like the best words to describe summer vacation thus far: "Christianity is about confrontation..."

The Lutheran side of me must ask "what does this mean?" :)

Confronting in love and confronting in judgment and condemnation sometimes feel so similar to the one being confronted. Confrontation is painful, icky, and...necessary. There were lots of confrontational moments this last week, and I'm going to document a few:

I went to Tokyo and met some of my friends who are part of a Japanese street band. It's been a little over a year since I've seen any of them, but it seemed strangely familiar and "normal." When the band finished playing, my friend who sings and plays guitar hung out for awhile to chat, and a group of us ended up on the topic of life and faith. My friend keeps insisting that he can find himself by himself--that he can be on his own terms with God and the world. My heart hurts at his very apparent exhaustion and the hopelessness of his hope. Will he someday relinquish his own terms and find peace? I hate confronting him on it--he is always so kind to me. But if I don't confront him, am I just leaving him to the fate of those who seek to bargain with the Almighty without faith?

Another confrontation:
I met with four other girls from around Japan for a 3ish-day prayer/hangout/reunion time. We had all served together in the VYM program at one point, and although we are all in different places now, we are still a little like family. It was so good to see these dear girls again--but, as another summed it up, "it was not always fun." :) When we get together, there is usually tears and yells mixed in with the laughter and the joy, because we question each others' choices, "check up" on our life goals and how we've seen God's guidance, etc. I confess that I'm still trying to figure this all out. Do we have the right and ability to confront each other? Why? How? Sometimes I wonder if the end result is more pain and guilt than good. But my closeness to these girls is directly related to the love we try to show each other by checking up on each other.

Confrontational episode number 3:
I confess that worship in Japan often leads me to rant. It frustrates me that we use instruments we can't play to play hymns we can't sing with words we can't understand to a God we might not know. Does that sound too negative? Yes, even I think so. But some of it rings true. What do I do with that? I'm a foreigner--even if I could speak Japanese perfectly, I don't know enough of Japanese culture to understand how to help make worship meaningful and different from the other religions. It reminds me so much of snippets from Anthropological Insights for Missions (kudos to Dr. B), which reminded me all of last year that my confronting of a church in another culture can have nasty results. I don't even know how to bring law and gospel to myself, let alone another culture...(These are the moments when I wish I'd been a doctor, or when I pray heartily for more English students and less "church work" opportunities.) I may be simply running scared--but I can correct someone's English grammar. Can I really confront them on their faith life? How? Why?

Final examples of confrontation:
We partner with another church here. The people are amazing--so loving and helpful! But I feel them looking at me with that "Gee, you're sure a weird church worker" expression on their faces. I can't fully participate with them in prayer and worship because of language. I wear makeup. I don't like being at church all the time. I am often more interested in what God is doing inside me instead of around the world. And I...sometimes put sugar in my coffee? (No, that's just a real but in this case ridiculous example of feeling judged for an action.) I don't know. All I know is that believers all ahve ideas of what it means to be a "good" believer. And it's important, because we don't want church and faith to translate into attending an hour of worship once a week. There is more than that. But where do we confront, knowing that every single Christian is probably looking at and judging us in the same way that we are looking at them? And who's viewpoint should be honored? What expectations can be set aside? Which ones should motivate?

Oy. These are the moments when I try to remember my friend Brian's way of proving that truth exists, so I don't just throw it all out the window. Or I mostly sit and think, "God, how am I supposed to do this again?" :)

Confrontation...well, these are at least some beginning questions.

Summer Vacation

In Japan, the summer holiday lasts from the end of July to the end of August...but most kids still go to cram schools and do homework! Because of such things, we've still been teaching English classes the last few weeks. Teaching English is definitely not the craziest part of my schedule, since we don't have so many students yet, but teaching does involve preparation, daily class times, etc.

However, in a few hours, my last class for the summer will be finished, and I will run to the train station to catch a train, a bus, and another train to go visit some friends in the Tokyo area for a couple of days. Cindy and I receive two weeks off during this August, and it's my first chance to meet some people I haven't seen for over a year!

Between the Tokyo visit and friends coming here to visit Fukushima, it'll be a busy first week of summer vacation! Pictures to be posted on some future date... :) Stay cool and drink water... :)

Grieving

Probably sometime during middle school, I found Madeline L'Engle's books, and I've been reading them ever since. For those of you unfamiliar with them, her books are a mixture of math, science, fantasy, poetry, religion, family, romance, history, and the future--and I personally find them delightful. :)

This past summer, stopping by an old book store with my family, I found a copy of A Ring of Endless Light for a couple bucks and picked it up. It's not my favorite L'Engle book, but it's good. :) And somehow (I'm not admitting to anything!:)), when I packed books for Japan, the small paperback found its way into my book box. I've read the book many times over the last ten years of my life, and in some ways the words of L'Engle seem to capture a deep part of me that I can't put into words myself. The whole book is about grieving and death. In a simple, child-like way, it tells the story of Vicky, whose summer includes the accidental death of a family friend, an almost-successful suicide of a former romantic interest, a young child dying of a seizure, and watching her grandfather slowly succumb to lukemia. The last few pages of the book document Vicky's entrance into a dark depression, and her rescue out of the depression by some dolphins, which she had been researching for some scientists.

Even though it sounds maybe kind of childish, or fantastic, I love L'Engle's description of Vicky's grief. Sometimes, I wish I could just sit and cry over the people that I miss, that I leave behind in life when I move...but I can't. So I'm going to type L'Engle's last page instead, stealing her words to remind me that darkness does not win, and death and separation is only the step before life, light, and eternal relationship with our heavenly Father.

There was no light.
The darkness was deep and there was no dazzle.
There was no point in being human in a world of emergency rooms where a little girl could die because there weren't enough nurses or doctors
in a word where desperate fisherman clubbed a thousand porpoises to death
in a world where human beings stole from dead bodies, from pieces of dead bodies

What for? Why be conscious in a world like this?
Why bother
it doesn't matter
because nothing matters

Somehow or other I was in the front seat of the station wagon beside Adam.
We drove through darkness
and a horrible silence
and then I was standing on the beach because Adam took me and pulled me out of the car and across the road and down the path
Take off your clothes, he said.
I felt him pulling my shirt off over my head
roughly ripping
dropping my shorts on the sand
pushing me into the ocean
through the small waves
into the breakers
fell and went over me
a blue-green comber curled and
mouthful of salt and sand
Adam's arm around me in a strong grip
over my shoulder, across, under my other arm
he was swimming
and I with him
automatically moving my legs in a scissors kick
swimming
forever
into timeless darkness

Surrounded
by flashing silvery bodies
tossed up into the air
caught
held between the sleekness of two dolphins
holding me, but not hurting
holding and swimming
and then leaping with me up into the air
Basil and Norberta leaping into joy
with me between them
and before us and behind us and beside us
the others of the pod flashing and leaping
and I was being passed from pair to pair
And I knew they were trying to bring me out of the darkness and into the light, but the darkness remained because the light was too heavy to bear
Then I sensed a withdrawing
the pod moving away from me
not out to sea, but away, swimming backward and looking at me, so that I was in the center of a circle
but I was not alone
Norberta was with me
Suddenly she rose so that her flipper was raised, and then she brought it down, wham, on my backside
Ouch!
I submerged, down into the strange green darkness of sea, shot through with ribbons of gold
gulping sea water
choking
rising, sputtering, up into the air
into the blazing blue of sky
and Njord was there, nudging me, and laughing as I choked and spat out salt water, coughing and heaving

And the light no longer bore down on me
but was light
and Njord nudged and poked and made laugh noises
and I grabbed his fin and he soared into the air.
And I played with Njord.

The pod began to sing, the same alien alleluias I had heard first from Basil, then from Norberta and Njord, and the sound wove into the sunlight and into the sparkles of the tiny wavelets and into the darkest depths of the sea.
One last alleluia and they were gone, leaving Basil and Norberta to watch Njord and me play.
And then they were gone, too, flashing out to sea, their great resilient pewter bodies spraying off dazzles of light, pure and endless light.
I watched them until they disappeared into the horizon.
Then I turned and swam into shore.


Other quality quotes from the book:
"It's hard to let go anything we love. We live in a world which teaches us to clutch. But when we clutch we're left with a fistful of ashes."

"The song of Norberta and Njord echoed in my ears. And it was joy. And joy, Grandfather would remind me, joy is the infallible sign of the presence of God."


"Resurrection has always been costly, though not in terms of money. It took only 30 pieces of silver."

Maybe the words don't communicate so much without the whole story...but thanks for sharing in the moment with me.

The Good, the Bad, the Sleep-Deprived, and the Blessed

How can life contain so many experiences in such a short time? I've been reminded again over the last few days of the bigness of God's grace, in the way that He gives us both high and low moments and reminds us that He meets us at each place...and the end result is simply, truthfully, that we are blessed.

The good:
The prayer relay was a huge blessing, and if I wrote down all of the amazing comments/stories/experiences, this would be a post of epic proportions. :) Over 60 people between the two churches came to pray in the church building and the small classroom-turned-prayer-room. Three specific times of group worship allowed people from both churches to meet, pray for each other, cry and laugh together, and recognize the blessedness that comes from gathering together and saying, "Wow! Look at our awesome God! Did you see that?!"

Personally, I was reminded in many moments throughout the prayer relay of how short of a time I've been here. This was the first big thing that we've coordinated with Pastor, Cindy, and I--and two churches!--and it required a lot of language and simply effort. I spent most of Sunday playing hostess, welcoming people into Fukushima church building, and by the 9pm worship time I was drained of all my Japanese ability and any confidence I had in doing things correctly. Around 8:30pm, I snuck out for a walk around the neighborhood and told God very firmly that anything He wanted during the worship time He would have to provide, cuz I was empty, tired, and unable to speak. I'm reminded again and again that that isn't a bad place to lead worship from...because God does provide with His Spirit, often in ways that I wasn't planning. The evening worship was such a blessing--reflective Taize songs in Japanese, songs of thanksgiving, songs of love...God using the music and Pastor's message to communicate...I can't explain it. :) But it was good.

The bad:
New things are scary. And somehow, in Japan, often Christianity is looked at as a "new thing," a "foreign religion." Something for Westerners. It was so sad after church Sunday morning to hear some of those frightened comments by the church members--comments saying that reflecting on God's character or His name isn't Japanese style, not good for Japanese culture. I was just left with my mouth open, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to affirm the differences of culture, but also affirm the Christian's relationship with God--a relationship that involves knowing the character of God, as He has revealed it in Scripture, Christian community, and life!

The sleep-deprived:
For some reason, staying awake through the prayer relay and the everyday heat here has combined to provide a feeling of...tiredness. Some of that is entertaining, and I wish I could remember some of the comments that make Cindy and I just laugh until we cry. Regular topics in our apartment include: a great desire for Christmas and cold weather, the need for coffee, and the great joy of experiencing making and eating mint jelly. Good times. :)

The blessed:
Moments of prayer. Honest tears. Excitement, as the church members experience praying with God's name and receiving confidence in His character. Searching the Bible and pointing out chapter and verse of God's promises. Having a young boy from the community wander in and out of the church building--taking Christian DVDs, pamphlets with names of God, etc., with him. :) Music. Worship. Young Christian guys singing worship songs loudly, in a slightly off-key but joyous manner. Confession of the sins and burdens that chain us up, and freedom at forgiveness...

And so much more. :)

Thanks so much for praying!