Questions and weakness

It's been a rather silent period here on the blog...sorry! This month has been filled with a lot of questions that don't translate into concrete posts. In reality, it's probably just "that time" in the stages of culture shock when everything just feels icky and results in an existential crisis at least once a day. :) It's hard to post honest blogs during these times, but here goes...

If I had to choose several "themes of the month," one would definitely be working in weakness. Last night I was chuckling as I heard 2 Corinthians 4 read aloud: "...we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us." Yes. Yes, I certainly hope so. For some reason, as part of my job, I'm expected to speak at board meetings...and Cindy ends up leading worship. Those of you who know Cindy and I probably know that we much prefer those roles reversed. I never feel so incompetent as when I'm trying to stammer out Japanese at a board meeting. Another recent of example of weakness: I spent most of last week without a voice or with only a very low, quiet voice--effectively making teaching kid's classes and leading music a slightly pathetic experience for all involved. A third example: we've been putting together a kid's (and family) advent program to be used throughout the next few weeks...and have been reminded frequently of our very low levels of experience in children's ministry. I maybe could post a picture of our star crafts as an example... :)

When each new situation arises when it seems that I'm expected to do exactly what I don't know how to do, I roll my eyes upward and stammer out, "What? How...? Why....?" And pray that God's glory is shown in my weakness. And keep walking--even when I sometimes don't know why.

A recent blessing was to meet an old friend in Niigata. She, Cindy, and I compared life situations and were astounded at the similarities and the questions. My friend is not a Christian, but we talked a lot about God and His direction in our lives. Where/how do we have freedom? What are we called to do? How do we listen, decide, walk in confidence, decipher between the voices, and live in authenticity and obedience to God?

My friend asked me, "Do you always hear God directing you?"

Funny timing. I had just spent at least an hour honestly and painfully asking God why He has been so silent.

"No. I don't hear God directing me." There was no other honest answer for her.

But I know how God has directed me up to this point.

Which means that I'm here. Which means that I missed my brother's first high school play this last weekend. Which means my adopted grandmother and my dog were buried without me. Which means that this stage of culture shock is just plain necessary and good. Which means that I'll be asking for awhile yet what my purpose is here and trying to discover the measuring rod necessary for life's survival in this place. Which means that Thanksgiving involved eating Indian curry instead of turkey. :) Which means we plan children's ministry, create chopstick star crafts that most elementary school teachers would grimace at, and pray for the dear families that God brings in. Which means we continue to fight for time for music and prayer, even when it seems more painful than purposeful. And it means that I go into tomorrow's meeting with the bosses from Tokyo, ready to speak if called on.

And through it all, I pray that God's glory shows through the cracks and weaknesses and days when the questions are too big to handle. The theme for our first advent kid's day today was light, shining in the darkness. I know the light is here...and, as we've taught the kid's to say with an emphatic thumbs-up, it's good.