Just for fun...and unfailing things

A couple weeks ago a bunch of us went to a Sunday afternoon organ concert after church, because the performer had special ties to our church. I had to chuckle to myself as "all us girls" double-checked our hair, redid our makeup, and smoothed our skirts or dresses. Some things just don't change, no matter what the culture. :)

And, speaking of things that don't change over culture, here is my "sentimental" song for the week: "Love Never Fails" by Brandon Heath. I'm not sure why, but it's been a good week to have the reminder that God is Love, and that He doesn't fail. There have been a lot of instances of grace this week--some that I and others have received willingly, and other instances not-so-willingly. It's funny how offensive the "love never fails" thought can be--because as humans, we definitely fail, and so to be faced with something unfailing somehow points out our guilt and shame even more clearly. If we get past the offense though, I think most of us come to the realization that we're desperate for love that is unfailing--no matter the culture. Yay for a reality of being held secure by the love of our Father-King.

To the general "you" :)

If you would have been walking by Koriyama church yesterday, you would have seen 5 rambunctious children, ages 6 to 1, and two English teachers crawling around on the floor. You probably would have heard shrieks of joy, several gales of laughter, and some bouts of tears when the younger ones couldn't keep up with their older siblings. If you'd looked close, you would have seen the perfectly-developed and well-rehearsed pout on the 1-year-old, when her siblings came from English class with candy and she was standing empty-mouthed. You also probably would have seen the group of mothers, chatting together amidst the bedlam as if they were old friends.

If you would have stood outside and pondered the scene for awhile, you might have found yourself wondering what the women were talking about so enthusiastically, while the English teachers and kids were creating such a playful scene.

Sometimes I find it inexpressibly sad that you're not here, that you can't see or partake in the craziness, and, during moments like yesterday, I find my heart full with both joy and sorrow as I was able to participate again in a beautiful conversation about the Bible. My poor writing on the computer can't quite communicate the eagerness with which my Thursday mothers ask me questions about Bible study, or the funny discussions that come up, or the connections they make to their lives which are beautiful.

Noah, Abraham, Adam and Eve, God's plan, faith, human sin, God's goodness...these all come up in a conversation of two languages and many children's playful noises. :) It is so...real...and maybe because of that, it is such a blessing.

A new family joined the evening Bible study last night--primarily because the other mothers' talk about the Bible all through the afternoon English class. :) Was it crazy, with everyone coming in at different times? Did children run around in circles? Of course. :) But when the mothers start to talk about Abram's very-inconsistent faith and compare it to their own hearts...when they start asking Sensei questions in Japanese because they can't help but want to know the answers...when they ask for next-week's homework and gladly receive five chapters of reading...

...that is when I wish you guys could be here, and see how God pursues people, and know--beyond the shadow of a doubt--that we have, with us, a loving God, and many people who are hungry for Him.

The honest questions...

A rather explosive Bible study this afternoon has left me pondering faith for the last few hours. Surrounded by people with different faiths, different cultural systems, and different values, I'm always tempted to "agree to disagree" rather than speak truth clearly. But today in Bible study students were asking me about Christ's second coming, faith, prayer, etc., and it was one of those moments when it is impossible to say anything without offending anyone or being untruthful. Those moments always make me fall into pensive thinking for awhile, because these are the honest questions that run through my head, the questions I need to have answered:

- Why do I believe in the God of the Bible? Is it because of my upbringing, my culture, warm and fuzzy feelings in my past experience, a miracle I saw, or my own interpretation of truth?

- Why do I believe that there is only one way to God? And can I say with truth that the one way is Jesus? If that is the truth, can I say that it is more important than harmony, family, success, friendships, or even my own life?

In today's discussion on prayer, we ended up talking about the Japanese customs of going to temples and shrines to pray...I don't know if you guys have ever experienced moments when you must stammer out, "But you guys are wrong..." and can only back it up with a weak, "The Bible tells me so," but I experience those moments regularly. I hate telling people that they are believing a lie--a dangerous lie, because they are giving themselves to powers of darkness. I hate to make it seem like somehow I have the "right way," while their way is wrong. But I also can't just say that everything is ok--can't say that worshiping stone and tree and wishing for good luck somehow can be reconciled with the truth of the Scriptures.

Hear me out on this--I'm not questioning my faith for myself. But when the proclamation of my faith produces pain for others, I have to revisit the question of its truthfulness. (Somehow, because of my American upbringing, I am allowed to separate faith "for myself" and for others. Why/how can I do this? But that's another blog maybe...)

So why do I have faith again? I have to remind myself, to remind myself that it's worth the painful moments of confrontation, worth the broken false harmony, worth the awkward questions and misunderstandings. I have faith because...I'm still breathing. Because every day I run into things bigger than I can understand or fathom, yet they still exist to give me life. Because I know I need a Savior. Because when I pray, God answers. Because history can testify to the Bible and Jesus. Because...it's faith.

Sigh. I wish I always knew the right balance of honest speaking and quiet listening. I wish I always knew words that would both convict and bring life. But these are the moments that remind me I depend on God's truth, and on His forgiveness--moments when John the Baptist's words echo clearly through my head, "He must increase, and I must decrease."

Help, God! I need You to show Yourself in truth and love. Forgive us for our unbelief, and help us to believe.

Naru-Hodo :)

Years ago, in Niigata, my adopted Japanese brother taught me a very useful Japanese phrase: naru-hodo, naru-hodo. The phrase means something like, "Oh, I get it! I get it!"--used at times of dawning realizations, new discoveries, etc. Here are the three most extreme naru-hodo moments of the last week, that I thought I'd share with you all. :)

1. Last Saturday I WASN'T attending a potato celebration. Who knew?! :) We were actually celebrating taro, which are deliciously similar to soft potatoes. :)

2. Teaching language in a foreign country somehow renders one language-less. Or, at least it renders me language-less. What was that word for living naturally again??...oh, sustainability is what I was going for (this is in a discussion of the aluminum company and the toxic sludge in Hungary). And what do we call people who work at fairs? Roadies? Vendors? And what does midway really mean? Sigh. Yes, all of this took place in one class yesterday!

3. My pastor and I work well together as a team. Though this is something I've known for awhile, I was reminded of it again when English Bible study Thursday night was a beautiful mix of two languages, Sensei's historical comments and insights, and my rather incoherent questions. Such a blessing!

Anyway, I'm off to prep for our first event targeting kids here in Fukushima, and I'm excited for this afternoon, the Creation Story, and songs, games, and general craziness. :) Sorry for the week of non-communicative-ness (oy, that's not English, is it? See point number 2 above.:))--I'll sit down and communicate hopefully after the impending bedlam of the afternoon is over! :) Prayers appreciated for the next hours!

Potatoes by the riverside

Sweaty palms, knocking knees, and a heart beating a staccato rhythm in my chest...

Where am I going again?...Should I speak Japanese, or English?...Who's going to be there?...Will I have to give a speech? I should come up with something to say...Oh! I can ask about that lady's daughter, who I met. And I can talk about Fukushima's weather....and maybe we can play games, if the kids are there...Should I have brought more food? Less food? Different food?...Where am I going again?...

I confess that Jesus setting His face resolutely towards Jerusalem went through my mind as I walked to an "Imo (potato) party" by the riverside. Yesterday Sensei received a phone call from the leaders of an after-school program that I started volunteering at, and they requested that I come to their Imo Party and be introduced to their board of parental directors, etc...so, with a quaking heart, many questions, and a bag of sembe (rice crackers?), I made my way this afternoon to the riverside, hoping to find a familiar face and end up in the right group of people! Picture never hearing about 4th of July celebrations, and then being invited to join a 4th of July party--that is kind of how I felt going to celebrate potatoes with new people. :)

In the end, there were plenty of awkward conversations. I fielded questions like, "How long is your Fukushima?" (what exactly is that asking?) and somehow communicated that I'd majored in geology at school (yes, Dr. Trapp probably just fainted at the thought of me majoring in geology). I most likely sat when I was supposed to stand, ate when I was supposed to be not eating, and bowed at many wrong times...but there was also laughter and new friendships, and I got to meet the parents of the kids that I see walking by the church almost every day! There was sun, smiles, and new stories being wound together as we joined in that bit of time.

I pray, and stumble around, and hope that smiles make up for many broken cultural rules. :) And faith gives me courage to celebrate eating potatoes and to recognize that the opportunity is a blessing. :)

"Visiting Week"

This week in Japan has held two Japanese holidays, so there have been opportunities to travel and catch up with people who used to be roommates and adopted family. On Monday, I was in Tokyo at a Taize music seminar, which brought people together from congregations all around the Japanese Lutheran Church and several of the missionaries that I know. On Thursday, some students and church members from Shirone, a former teaching site for me, came to visit Fukushima, and we went out to lunch and visited one of the baths high in the mountains. It was lovely to see everyone--lovely, but sad. On Thursday, our two groups separated ways with clumsy hugs that were trying to make up for everything that could not be said in words. What would we have said, if we could have used words? I hope you find the One who loves you. I pray that your hearts would be comforted with God's love and the purpose He has for you. I pray that you would not feel alone. I pray that you have rest from your burdens, healing from your pain...meaning for your life. I pray that you would find the One who is our real Home and Friend and Father.

The verse from Corinthians keeps running through my head: "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." (1 Cor. 13:12)

Why do we drive hours to go to Tokyo? Why would students from years ago drive hours from Shirone to visit us in Fukushima? Why, in the midst of 8+ location changes and 30+ roommates over the last several years, do I still cling to the idea of home? Because we want to see face to face. Because we want to be known and to know. Because from the beginning of time, we've been made for relationship. We just often don't know it.

Sensei was telling me, on our way to Tokyo, that Japanese culture is not familiar with a relational God. In Japan there is no right or wrong, so there is no need for grace or love. The closest thing they have to sin is ugliness or dirtiness (pictures which are often used in the Bible to depict sin, I know), and so religion is used in the same way a person would use a face-wash: to clean and beautify one's self.

But how different--how wonderful and different--is the Creator-God's interactions with the people He's created! There is sin, dirt, pain, judgment, ugliness...but through all of it, He is still intimately and intricately engaged in the lives of those He's created and loves, offering grace to the repentant and faith to know Him in an even deeper way. He's not just interested in a relationship--He wants a good one!

The Taize music seminar in Tokyo was lovely--there were many, many tears around me, amidst the hours of music and gentle words from the leader. Sometimes I think we forget how many masks and broken relationships we carry--how much face-wash we are trying to use, and how little that is working--until we are met fact-to-face with the presence of our Savior, who sees all. And then we realize our broken relationships, our attempts to hide, and we realize that they are futile. The only real response we can have, maybe, is to drop the masks and cry in both sorrow and gladness.

One woman sang the Taize music this week and did not respond with tears. She is the mother of a church member, and she is also a Christian. She is small and frail, and needs help standing, sitting, and eating...maybe her time in this place will soon be over. When we gathered with Sensei and her family in their home to offer her communion, I was surprised to hear this little old lady's voice raised above all of ours as we sang the simple Taize songs--she was belting them out with joy and contentment. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, and I found myself wondering if her responses of joy come from knowing that someday soon she will be able to truly see God "face-to-face" and experience the fullness of that relationship in heaven?

I find myself aching--in envy of her joy, in pain for those around me that do not know yet.

"From protest to praise..."

I confess that I am a great planner of escape routes. Cindy says that it's because I have such an inability to say no to people...maybe that is true...but for whatever the reason, I like to have several options and multiple deadlines in my head, so I can sneak away from anyone I want to sneak away from and excuse myself from any possibly-enmeshing situations. Yes, I am an introvert. :)

Often, however, my plans go way beyond what I want to do for the evening and how I will say goodbye politely to people...I catch myself frequently planning future "escape routes" and dreams about life. These in and of themselves, I think, aren't bad. And sometimes they are simply entertaining--one day I'll be talking about grad school, and the next day I'll be adopting twelve children. Probably the day after that, I'll think about moving to a country where the church is persecuted and becoming a tortured prisoner for the rest of my life. Every day brings a new plan/option/idea--keeps me young. :)

Some of the silly ones or more extreme thoughts pass quickly. Most of them get prayed through and laughed through. However, all of the thoughts and questions and day-dreams boil down to several questions: What is a good life for me? What goals should I have?

Some of the dreams and goals that I most frequently have to offer up to God are the dreams of feeling competent, holding a regular, steady job, having a family and living life in a stable home, etc. And while some weeks that is easy, other weeks it is just...difficult. I haven't been prone to tears recently, but Thursday I definitely cried my eyes out while reading Romans 4--I was being reminded again that I'm called to walk by faith, with my highest goal and desire being the love of my Savior and living in His love.

Today in English Bible study, Cindy was talking about the story of Jacob, Leah, and Rachel, and we were going through the sons of Leah. Leah, if you'll remember, was given to Jacob as his wife through trickery, and Jacob did not love her. The poor girl's thought pattern is shown to us by way of her son's names:

1. Reuben - "...because the Lord has seen my misery. Surely my husband will love me now."

2. Simeon - "Because the Lord heard that I am not loved, he gave me this one too."

3. Levi - "Now at last my husband will become attached to me, because I have borne him three sons." (Note that she's not even talking about love at this point...just attachment.)

4. Judah - "This time I will praise the Lord."

What's behind the "this time I will praise the Lord," I wonder. Had she just resigned herself to her life? Had she given up on her husband's love, and decided that the favor of God and the love of her sons was enough? Every time I look at her sons' names, I am touched by her turmoil over the goal of her husband's love, and by her final statement of praise. Finally, too, Jesus is born from the line of Judah--from Leah, the unloved wife. It's so interesting how God works...

Along the same lines, I've been listening recently to an older song by Down Here called "Protest to Praise" (the video attached to this link isn't the greatest, but it was one of the only ones I could find on youtube--but I recommend the song!). The message is similar: I don't see God here, in the midst of my questions and impossible, selfish dreams that I continually fight and lay down...but I know that He'll move me from protest to praise...and that through all of my responses and reactions to Him, He'll remain.

Sometimes I feel selfish giving you guys these personal ramblings when I'm supposed to be giving updates about ministry...but the ministry that happens spills out of my own wrestlings, prayers, and relationship with God...so along with the rejoicing, you get the questions, and along with the dancing and laughter, there are the tears and pleas for understanding. And after the tears, there is always the great thankfulness for grace. :) How very true are the lyrics from the song: "From protest to praise, You're always amazing me." So I'm pushing "publish post," hoping that even in the authentic, transparent struggles, God will be pointed out as worthy of praise. :)