End of December Thoughts

Christmas Eve candle lighting service in Kobe

The five of us and Millie, our Kobe SAM

What’s happened to my brain? With so many Christmas-related activities, family coming home for the holidays, and our traveling back to Kobe from Tokyo to lead the church in celebrating Christmas and New Years, my head seems to have shifted into neutral. As a result, it’s been two and a half weeks since I’ve written for our blog. I’d like to change that today while everyone is out shopping. Besides, shopping isn’t a favorite pastime of mine, even if my head and body weren’t tired from the pace of December.

Let me say up front: I’m not a kanji expert. In truth, I use these thousands of Chinese characters as little as possible, which explains why my Japanese reading and writing level is actually quite embarrassing for someone who has lived nearly thirty years in Japan. Still, I know a few characters. One of the most interesting is the kanji for busy—in Japanese, isogashii. It is made up of two parts. The right half is the character for “to lose.” The left half represents “heart.” In other words, when one becomes busy, one risks the danger of losing one’s heart.

In fact, this is exactly what has happened to me this month. Certainly it’s nothing I’m proud about. After all, as a Christian, Christmas ought to be one of the most meaningful times of the year. Writing Christmas cards should be a joyful exercise in sharing the good news of Jesus’ birth as the angels did when they appeared to the shepherds on the hillsides outside of Bethlehem. Instead they gave me stiff shoulders. I felt more pressure than pleasure as I wrote and wrote and wrote, and I’m still not finished although Christmas Day 2007 is now history. (And from yesterday, the Japanese custom of writing New Year’s cards was added to my never-ending “to do” list.)

Then there’s the busy church calendar of special activities, including the Christmas Eve candle service, a children’s Christmas party, and a New Year’s Day service not yet planned, much less prepared. Even if I only attended these, they would still take time. On top of this, our family of two suddenly has expanded to six, so there are many added household chores, never-ending trips to the grocery store, and dinner preparations that begin almost as soon as the last meal’s dishes have been washed, dried, and put away. I’m thankful everyone is helping eagerly, and I’m overjoyed our family is together once again—usually we’re in three different countries—but I sometimes find myself sighing loudly with physical and emotional tiredness. Isogashii seems to have taken its toll.

I am reminded that Jesus left his disciples at the end of a busy day to go up into the mountains to pray. He’d just had a major teaching assignment for a huge crowd that had gathered on the hillside. Afterwards everyone was hungry, so he miraculously fed five loaves and two fish to five thousand men, not counting the women and children. (And I thought I had a houseful to feed!) Day after day, and not just in December, the demands on Jesus were endless. The only way to keep from losing his heart in the midst of it all was to protect his quiet time with the Father whereby he could be refreshed and renewed.

In fact, this is exactly what I did this morning. Is it any wonder I’m feeling my heart again?

Still Meditating on Christmas

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together

in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully

and wonderfully made . . . . My frame was not hidden from you

when I was made in the secret place" (Psalm 139:13-15).

No one will ever know the impact this one life could have had on the world.

The product of a high school liaison, the baby was conceived in secret and kept that way until there was no choice but to confess what the boyfriend-girlfriend couple had done. Many offered grace—God himself offers it. A Christian organization would have provided a home for the young mother-to-be where she could have delivered the child and then given her up for adoption. The agency’s director met with the family and shared that there is a long waiting list of people eager to adopt babies—even here in Japan where adoption of children outside one’s blood line generally has not been accepted.

Many prayed for the baby to be allowed to live, but in the end, the decision to eliminate was made. It is best for all concerned, the woman who would have been grandmother declared. Easier perhaps, but best? For whom? Certainly not for the baby.

And what of the teenager who would have given birth? Now she is heavy-hearted with guilt about both the illicit relationship that brought life and about her decision which ended it. I recall that Mother Teresa often spoke out against abortion. I cannot quote her directly, but she once said something like, “One sin isn’t corrected by a second one,” as she pleaded with young women to allow their babies to live.

Abortion. According to the Alan Guttmacher Institute, 46 million babies are aborted worldwide each year. This statistic becomes even more striking when it is broken down: 126,000 babies aborted daily, 87 each minute, almost 2 every 3 seconds.

In Japan, abortion is the number one method of birth control. Illustrative of this fact, there were 341,588 legally induced abortions in the country in 2001. This represented a 2.5% increase over the previous three years. From 1998-2001, both the abortion rate (the number of legal abortions per 1,000 women) and the abortion ratio (the number of legal abortions per 1,000 live births) increased by 8.3% and 5.4% respectively. Like the teenager I’ve been thinking so much about lately, women less than 20 years old contributed most to these increases. (According to one 1990 study, pregnancies among Japanese adolescents occur at a rate of about 22 per 1,000 girls. Most of these pregnancies end in abortion.)

Especially at this season of the year, we celebrate the birth of One whose life has made an eternal difference for the world. I cannot help but wonder what if Mary had chosen the easier way?

More Thoughts before Christmas

Christmas lights in Shibuya, downtown Tokyo

Christmas is everywhere in Japan. So many are the Christmas trees, lights, and carols playing in the stores and along the streets that, at first glance, one would never imagine that this nation has no Christian heritage and little real understanding of what and Who Christmas really is. Conversations, however, are revealing.

Last week, for example, I was at our exercise gym. Kaori, one of our trainers, was chatting with me. Of course, she could chitchat since she wasn’t working out. I, on the other hand, was struggling just to breathe. Needless to say, the conversation was quite one-sided, and my responses to her questions were more monosyllables and grunts rather than real dialogue—until she broached the subject of Christmas.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” she queried.

“Going to Kobe,” I managed to answer while continuing to attack the green and purple stacking blocks used for stepping up and down. (Good for your heart, I was told—as long as you don’t have a heart attack.) Then I coughed out three more words, “To our church.”

“Nice! A church must be a great place for Christmas,” Kaori responded enthusiastically.

Her comment brought me to an immediate halt in mid-step. More than a little incredulously, I blurted out in reply, “Of course! Church is where Christmas is real. Where else would you celebrate Christmas?”

Kaori laughed, “We Japanese love festivals, any festivals. Buddhist, Shinto, Christian, Hindu, whatever.”

At her prompting, I resumed my up and down rhythm on the blocks. Trying to talk further was difficult, but since I was pondering her words, it was just as well. To Kaori, Christmas is an excuse for a party. She’s open to a fun time anywhere, even in church. But nothing will be different when the party is over. The more I thought about it, the sadder I felt. What a hollow celebration—having fun that will only fade away because she doesn’t understand the reason and source of Christmas.

Recently I’ve heard that Japanese youth today regard Christmas as a season for couples. Perhaps it’s a lead-in to Valentine’s Day, when women give men milk or dark chocolate, and White Day one month later, when men return the gifts with white. Whatever the reason, an American friend was surprised by a young man’s response to her cheery farewell. “Have a merry Christmas,” she’d said. “Oh no,” he replied, “I’m single.”

So here it is three weeks before Christmas. I’m preparing for church activities, of course, and they are many. But I’m thinking it’s time to revamp my schedule so I can be outside the church more this month. Otherwise, culture will continue to define Christmas. And quite frankly, culture—both in Japan and in America—has got it all wrong.

Thoughts before Christmas

Thankful for turkey, the trimmings, and friends

(not necessarily in that order) at Thanksgiving

Hope despite questions
“‘How can this be,’ Mary asked the angel, ‘since I am a virgin?’ The angel answered, ‘The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God’” (Luke 1:34-35).

It is not unusual for us to look around Japan and wonder how—or even if—it is possible for God’s Word to penetrate the unreceptive soil that characterizes Japan. Truthfully, we can’t see that much has changed as far as the impact of the Gospel upon Japan in the nearly 30 years we’ve lived and worked here. Churches are still small; Christians are still only about one percent of the population; there is still an average of only about one church for every 16,000 people, and there aren’t enough pastors to fill the pulpits of even the few churches there are. (Tarumi Church, for example, is still seeking a Japanese pastor 4 ½ years after we left to come to Tokyo.) Things don’t look very different from how they were when we first came to Japan as SAMs (special assignment missionaries) in 1976. Honestly, there are times that we ask God, along with Mary, “How can this be?”

As we enter December, we do so with the assurance that Gabriel gave Mary in reminding us that we have hope because the Holy Spirit is at work, even here. We can look forward to the day when the power of the Most High will overshadow Japan and make the impossible possible—exactly what Gabriel declared in saying, “For nothing is impossible with God” (Luke 1:38). We don’t know how it will happen, and neither did Mary. But she accepted the angel’s words of hope despite her questions. We want to do the same.

December plans
We’re looking forward to going to Kobe from December 22-January 4. During this time, we’ll speak at two Sunday services, the Christmas Eve candle service, and the New Year’s Day worship service at Tarumi Church. It is always our joy to return to Kobe, and we’ve been privileged to do so monthly this year. But it will be extra special for us to be in Kobe with Benjamin, Donald, and Stephanie (not to mention Little Ben in utero) It will be “like old times,” considering that Kobe was our home for 21 years—the place Ben and Stephanie grew up. Of course, it’s not our home anymore, so we’re grateful to SAM Millie Michael for opening her home to all of us. Please pray that all the year-end services will bring glory to God, encouragement to the church people, and provide evangelistic opportunities that will draw new people to Tarumi Church.

We’re also looking forward to December 16 at Hagiyama Church, on the outskirts of Tokyo, where we serve as cooperating pastors. Bernie will have the joy of baptizing two individuals that day, bringing to four the number of people he’s baptized at Hagiyama Church this year. (He also baptized two at Easter at Tarumi Church. Praise the Lord!) We’re excited about all that God is doing in this church through the ministry of Pastor and Mrs. Ogata. We feel so positively about this couple and their ministry—a second “career” for Pastor Ogata who entered the ministry at 55 years old after many years as a physical education teacher at the elementary, high school, and university levels. (Bernie says he wishes he could clone them for Tarumi.) Please pray for the Ogatas who’ve had some discouraging challenges lately. Pray also for the two who will be baptized, that they will continue growing daily in their newfound faith.

Fall staff meeting
We’re thankful for a successful two-day fall staff meeting on November 23-24. We met the first day at Tamagawa Seigakuin for sharing annual fall reports, praying together for individual concerns and needs expressed in the reports, discussing business (only a little), and playing games (much more fun than the business part). On the second day, our staff of 10 was joined by 5 guests for Thanksgiving dinner, complete with turkey and most, if not all, the trimmings. The food was great and the fellowship was even better, if that was possible. We can’t remember the last time we’ve laughed so much and for such a long time as we did on the 24th. Games are so GREAT for team building, and we played some extra fun ones this year. For details, ask us about “Human Twister,” “Artist, Model, and Clay,” “Big Boodie,” and the artist’s version of “The Telephone Game.”

We’re also thankful for our missionary staff. As you pray for us, please also remember our other staff members and their important, but sometimes difficult and discouraging assignments: Rachelle Bargerstock (Tama Sei and Nishi-Kunitachi Church, Tokyo); Mike and Makiko Boyle (Hagiyama Church and its English program, Tokyo); Alina Croall (Seiai Kindergartens and Nishi-Kunitachi Church); Millie Michael (Kansai SAM and Tarumi Church, Kobe); Zonia Mitchell (Saga University and Saga Church, Kyushu); Abby Spear (Tama Sei and Nishi-Kunitachi Church); and Mike Wagner (Tama Sei and Hagiyama Church, Tokyo).

Christmas is coming
Even here in Japan, Christmas has "hit" the stores. You'd almost think you were in the United States with Christmas carols being played, "Christmas products" adorning the shelves, and a slightly Japanese-looking Colonel Sanders in a red Santa suit standing outside a nearby Kentucky Fried Chicken. For comparison, when we first lived in Japan, there were no signs of Christmas anywhere except in churches. But merchants know a good thing when they see it, and Christmas has become big business in Japan, too.

Of course, our prayer is that one day the "Christmas hype" will somehow lead people to the Babe in the manger even as the star, against all odds, led the wisemen. Even though it's still November, we wish you a MEANINGFUL and MERRY CHRISTMAS. God bless you!

Three Women

Our lovely new friends in Hyogo Prefecture

Both of my grandmothers, Daisy Hyman and Leona Johnson, have been gone for some time now. Yet I often remember them and wish I could sit down and chat with them—of course, over chocolate chip cookies that they loved to bake (and I loved to eat). This past week, I felt I had that chance, even though there were no cookies.

While visiting Kobe, we decided to drive an hour and a half into the countryside to our favorite pottery village, Tachikui. En route, we were drawn to a thatched-roof, old-style traditional Japanese home. It always spelled character from afar, though we’d never driven up the narrow road for a closer look. But this time, spontaneity took precedence over schedule. We were greeted by an older woman in customary farmer-style clothing. Her immediate smile lit up her weathered face and assured us that we were welcome. Her husband, also appropriately dressed, underscored the warm reception by inviting us inside to see the architecture of their 260-year-old home and the woodblock prints he enjoys carving in his spare time. Feigning shock that he would show off “that dirty old house,” the farmer’s wife delighted us with cute giggles and conversation about this and that, not all of which we understood. We left with their calls to “come again” ringing in our ears. It was just like I’d been at Grandma’s house.

But at Tachikui, the mood was somber when we asked about our 83-year-old potter friend. We learned he’d passed away only three weeks earlier. When his wife of many years, her back bent low by osteoporosis, came outside to greet us, I immediately embraced her and shared her tears. Both of my grandfathers had died first. Once again, I felt like I’d been with my grandmothers, comforting them in their sadness and loss.

Two days later, I went to the hospital to visit the woman we’ve always called our “Japanese Grandma.” Although her chemotherapy has caused her hair to gray and fall out, her face remains beautiful, accented with warmth, love, and a quick smile. I tried to excuse myself after an hour of chatting, but she had much more to share, so I stayed longer. I hated that deadlines kept me checking my watch, but eventually I had to leave. Grams never wanted me to leave either, but I always had some schedule I had to meet. As the elevator doors closed on the sixth floor, my last glimpse was of Baaba waving. I could see Grams in her face, and that brought a sweet smile to my own.

Since then, however, I’ve been struggling with the bittersweet as I remember these three women. As a Christian missionary, it is my fervent prayer that my Japanese friends and acquaintances will come to believe that Jesus is God’s Son, sent into our world to demonstrate God’s love and to offer forgiveness. How I long to see them open their hearts and accept the gift. But these three women, all in their 80s, are completely bound by Japanese traditions, customs, and religions, whether they believe them or not. In fact, Baaba once told us that belief has absolutely nothing to do it. Rather, she accepted her role and its responsibilities when she married, and she will do what is expected of her until she dies. In moments of reflection, I confess that it seems impossible for any of these women—and, dare I say it, most of Japan—to come to Christ.

Although I don’t understand how it is possible, I take comfort in the angel’s words to Mary who questioned how she could bear God’s Son: “For nothing is impossible with God,” (Luke 1:37). It’s the only thing I have to hold onto.

At Shibuya Crossing

Some of the three million people

who wade across Shibuya Crossing daily

Over crowded. Jam-packed. Teeming. Swarming. Busy. Congested. Crammed full. Packed out. Suffocating. All of these adjectives and others could be used to describe Tokyo, the city in which we’ve lived since 2003. And did we say it’s heaving with people here?

Whatever the verbal portrait, however, words just can’t convey the experience of being in Japan’s most populated city: 12.5 million at night and14.6 million by day, when commuters from surrounding areas fill the trains beyond capacity to make their way dutifully into the city for work. Largest of the nation’s 47 prefectures in population, Tokyo is its third smallest in geography, accounting for the dubious honor it holds as Japan’s most densely populated location (2,215 people per square mile). But, as we said, words don’t do it justice. You just have to experience it.

Which is what we did on Sunday afternoon when we went to Shibuya, one of the major downtown areas, only a 15-minute train ride from us. Shibuya Station itself was busy enough to make me wonder whether we should have taken out travelers insurance. But exiting the station and coming face-to-face with Shibuya Crossing was even riskier, just a few steps to be sure, but definitely not for the faint-hearted. Three million people—or one-fourth of all of Tokyo—cross the street in all directions at this crisscross intersection made famous in Bill Murray’s 2003 movie, “Lost in Translation.” That’s a swarm of 1,500 people traveling every time the light changes! And there we stood, trying to take a picture in the midst of it all.

Task finally accomplished, I stepped up out of the fray and positioned myself on the edge of a large concrete planter where I could get a good view and comprehend all I was seeing. It was then that I began to see faces. Beforehand, there was only a mass, a sea of humanity that didn’t seem human at all. But from my elevated perch, I began to see—really see—for the first time: the pleasant man who looked up and smiled, prompting me to return his greeting and enjoy his jaunty gray felt hat with the feather stuck in its brim; an elderly couple, she bent by osteoporosis, he gallantly defending her as they navigated the treacherous crossing; the cute little boy with contemplative eyes being piggybacked in a child carrier; the teenager with her shaggy-cut, turquoise-dyed hair, a red and black plaid scarf wrapped around her neck; the surprising young man, his hair arranged in a mohawk of six-inch red, black, and gray spikes, his black jeans so weighted with chains I marveled that he could walk or even keep his pants up.

I recalled Bernie’s comment as we’d eaten lunch a few minutes earlier at Yoshinoya, a Japanese fast-food rice bowl eatery, “How is it possible to reach some of these for Christ?” And I wondered—if Jesus had been standing there instead of me, would he have wept as he did over Jerusalem? Surely.

On Thanksgiving

Beautiful fall leaves in Indiana

Instructions for thanksgiving
“Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, NIV).

It always amazes us that so many Americans are surprised to discover that Japan doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving with turkey, dressing, parades, football, and the works. But think about it. November 22 (this year) is a day that recalls the Pilgrims’ surviving their first few winters in a new land. Why would this historical event that became a U.S. national holiday in 1863 be celebrated in Japan or, for that matter, anywhere else outside the U.S.?

Nevertheless, the Bible instructs us to give thanks always—and that has nothing to do with a certain day in November. It has to do with cultivating a heart of thanksgiving year round. However, in this month when many people are thinking about Thanksgiving, we’d like to join the celebration by recognizing some of our reasons to be THANKFUL.

Baby Ben
We’re pretty sure everyone in the world has heard that we’re going to be first-time grandparents in January—whether they wanted to know or not. Certainly we’ve been doing our best to get this word out! But perhaps you’ve not heard that Stephanie and Donald’s baby will be named Benjamin Donbor, in honor of our Benjamin (a second grade teacher on Guam) and Donald’s roots in Meghalaya, northeast India. (Donbor is a Khasi word meaning “to have strength.”) Needless to say, we’re THANKFUL.

Benjamin will be coming to Japan on December 14 and Stephanie and Donald will arrive from their assignment in Central Asia on December 22. Not only will we all spend Christmas and New Years together, but Little Ben will be born in Tokyo. That’s an extra special blessing, and we are THANKFUL. All the hospital visits so far show that Little Ben is developing well. Please keep Stephanie in your prayers as she continues teaching full-time through the end of the semester on December 21. Despite her exhaustion every evening, she is—we all are—THANKFUL for this new life growing within her.

Successful travels
In late October, Bernie traveled to Korea with 185 second-year Tamagawa Seigakuin high school girls for their annual school trip. One reason for this five-day excursion is the painful history of relationships between Japan and Korea in the early 20th century, some of which continue to impact today. Please pray that what the girls experienced will have long-term effect and encourage them to be peacemakers in the future. Although there were a couple of unexpected bits of trouble—one student’s passport fell into the hotel trash can and was almost lost, and a second student accidentally went through immigration to leave Korea on another girl’s passport—there were no major incidents. In fact, Bernie said it was one of the best school trips he’s been on. We are THANKFUL.

At the same time Bernie was in Korea, Cheryl was in the United States for meetings related to: Kid’s Place, the children’s educational missions program with which she has worked for ten years; Yet I Will Rejoice, the 2008 international testimonies book on which she is working; and Into All the World: A Century of Church of God Missions, a history book on which she is teamed up to research and write with her father. Although her father fell and broke a bone in his foot during the week she was there (ironically, on his way to exercise), it was a productive week for Cheryl’s various writing assignments, and we are THANKFUL. (She was in Anderson during the height of fall color, an added blessing that gave her many opportunities to thank God for the beauty of the world he has created.) Please continue to pray for timely progress on these various projects.

Other prayer concerns
Please continue to pray for a young Japanese woman, Eriko, about whom we've written in some recent newsletters. While her home situation is still difficult, she asked us to share with you her THANKSGIVING that God has radically changed her life and saved her from some bad habits of inflicting self-harm.

Please also pray for our upcoming fall missionary staff meeting on November 23. Pray that this would be an encouraging time for our whole staff. We are THANKFUL for all 10 career and special assignment missionaries (SAMs) on our staff here in Japan. And we are also . . . THANKFUL for you, for your prayers, and for your joining us on this blog.

Random Thoughts on Laughter

The Barton men in 2005:

Bernie (back), his brother, and his father

I was going to write on a different topic today—that of meiwaku, a well-known Japanese word that translates into English as annoyance, nuisance, or trouble. I quickly jotted down some notes yesterday morning and pondered the subject in between a multitude of activities that made up a rather busy day. This morning, as I created my “to do list,” one of my daily routines, turning those scribbles into a blog was high on the list.

Until I opened this morning’s newspaper. I read in The Daily Yoimuri that the British recently conducted a poll to determine the Top 10 of famous wits in that nation. Playwright Oscar Wilde captured the honor of the greatest humorist. His deathbed comment, “Either those curtains go or I do,” explains why.

Comedian Spike Milligan also made the list. He’s famous for the epitaph he had carved on his tombstone: “I told you I was ill.”

But it was the comment of Winston Churchill, number five on the list, which gave me more than a smile. In fact, I laughed out loud. Apparently he was accused of being drunk by a Labor Party parliamentarian named Bessie Braddock. Churchill, perhaps as famous for his putdowns as for his statesmanship, retorted, “Bessie, you’re ugly. And tomorrow morning I will be sober, but you will still be ugly.”

Actually, I’m not much on making laughter from cutting people down—even if they deserve it. But for some reason, this putdown had me laughing so much that I read it several times just to prolong the pleasure. Then, when Bernie came into the dining room where I was enjoying the paper, I read the short piece aloud to him, and together we both laughed heartily. It was a wonderful way to start the day.

As we talked about what great medicine laughter is (check out Proverbs 17:22), Bernie reminded me of his father’s witty comment last fall, just days before he died. Bernie’s mother and brother were bathing his father, physically weak but mentally just as sharp as ever. Had it been his brother and father only, the bath would have been over in minutes, but Bernie’s mother continued scrubbing and rescrubbing Sandlin’s back, despite his brother’s protests that every possible pore had been plumbed and that no germ could possibly have escaped. The scrubbing went on anyway.

Finally, 88-year-old Sandlin spoke up in a feeble voice still characterized by a wry sense of humor, “She thinks I work in a coal mine.”

Laughter. What a priceless treasure (and what a different topic than what I intended to write about originally). Thankfully, laughter is not affected by age, the weather, one’s weight, or the ups and downs of the stock market. Even better, it’s not something expendable that you must worry about using up too soon. On the contrary, the more you use it, the more you have to enjoy and share with others—which is why I shared our morning laughter with you today. How about throwing some back our way?

Confessions of a Crybaby

Purple wisteria in a nearby park in May

One of my favorite children’s books that we read to Ben and Stephanie when they were growing up is titled Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. All the weather in the fictional town of Chewandswallow was food. It came three times a day: at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. So no one ever had to cook, which sounded great to me. The weather rained soup and juice, snowed mashed potatoes and green peas, and occasionally there was wind that blew in storms of hamburgers, pancakes, or sausages. On one of the worst days, spaghetti tied up the town. We enjoyed laughing at the weather with our kids.

But I confess that today I’m not laughing at the weather at all. In fact, I’m really sick and tired of this grayness. Rainy season was bad enough when it was supposed to be rainy, back in June, and worse when it just kept on going into July. But this is October, my favorite month of the year because the sky is a clear blue and the temperatures are just right—cool in the mornings and evenings, and warm, but not too hot, during the days. And finally the horrible humidity of summer has passed. Only things are haywire this month. I could write a book called Cloudy and Rainy with no Chance of Clearing.

Which is why I was happy to discover some notes I wrote back in May after taking a walk through our neighborhood. For some reason, I’d been struck by the abundance of colors I was seeing that day as I stretched my legs after too many hours at the computer. I’d jotted the following notes in my date book: a red mailbox; purple hydrangeas; a green signal at the corner; red geraniums in window boxes; fresh spring green trees; the burnt red brick sidewalk leading to the brown boardwalk around the park; a clear stream reflecting the bright blue sky; an iridescent dragonfly flitting between lavender water irises; a father and son playing catch together, their orange and green baseball caps announcing their favorite baseball teams; pink roses; a triangular red stop sign; purple, pink, and white pansies at our door; and more.

I’d not stopped with noticing colors, but had scrawled six more words on the scrap of paper I’d found somewhere: the myth of the gray city. What in the world was I thinking? I wondered as I reread the paper today. There’s no myth about this gray city. Tokyo is a concrete jungle, and on rainy days like today the gray seems grayer yet. (It’s been like this for a couple of weeks now. The laundry basket is overflowing and clothes of all descriptions are hanging out around the house to dry, even though this is practically impossible in this humidity that gives me a headache and makes the air as heavy as my backpack when I return from grocery shopping.)

Looking more carefully at what I’d written, I saw one additional notation: “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith . . .” (Hebrews 12:2).

Suddenly I remembered the lesson I’d contemplated that beautiful spring day. It is not a question of gray versus the brilliant colors of the rainbow. Color is all around me, even in the gray city. The question is, where will I fix my attention? It’s a choice I make every day, and it affects all of life, not just my thoughts about the weather.

On the Hope of the Nativity

A scene from "The Nativity Story",

starring Keisha Castle-Hughes and Oscar Isaac

The nativity story
“. . . and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn” (Luke 2:7, NIV).

Just in case you’re wondering: no, we’ve not forgotten to look at the calendar lately, and yes, we know that it’s only October! Nevertheless, we had the opportunity earlier this week to attend a preview showing of The Nativity Story, a movie that will be released under the title Maria in general theaters in Japan from early December, just in time for Christmas. We were asked to help promote the movie and also to pray that the hope of the nativity will be preached widely and become the hope of this nation “because he will save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21). Would you pray with us, please?

Revival in the air?
Dare we imagine such a hope as revival for Japan? Of course, we know that the promises of the Bible are true. But, to be honest, sometimes it’s very difficult to see that God is working here in Japan. With a Christian population of one percent at most, Japan is one of the most resistant fields in the world for Christian evangelization.

Needless to say, it’s thrilling when we see signs of God at work in our midst. As principal at Tamagawa Seigakuin, Bernie got reports from three different Christian summer camps that Tama Sei girls attended, including Tama Sei’s own Bible camp in July (see our August newsletter). A second camp was a Tokyo area Nazarene youth camp, where Bernie was the speaker. The third camp was organized by Tokyo Baptist Church. Between these three camps, more than 30 Tama Sei girls made decisions for Christ and/or to be baptized this summer!

As Bernie was sharing this exciting news with Cheryl, he commented, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if these girls were the start of a revival at Tama Sei and that would spread all over Tokyo?” Indeed! And all over Japan, too! Would you join us in praying for this?

The “no” that opened a door
In September, we asked for prayer for Atsumi Nijuken, seeking to find a hospital willing to accept a program to care for mothers whose pregnancies end in miscarriage, stillborn births, or the deaths of newborn infants. We were disappointed when a leading hospital of obstetrics and gynecology in Kobe turned down her request—the second hospital where there was a good chance for Ayumi, the organization Nijuken-san has founded, to begin its work. Nevertheless, the Tarumi Church woman is excited about the very positive reception that the hospital gave her and the door that has opened despite denying the permission she requested. The new opportunity is for Nijuken-san to provide the tiny doll clothes-size gowns to a lead nurse at the hospital who visits public schools to talk about the value of life. Considering that abortion is the number one method of birth control in Japan, this is a message that very definitely needs to be shared wherever possible. Nijuken-san is confident God has opened a door that she never expected.

Through the contact at the hospital, Nijuken-san also learned of an annual “convention” in Kobe of people and organizations that have various services to offer to parents. Each group is allowed to set up a booth in a convention center where they can explain their services and/or programs. Already Nijuken-san is making plans for a booth at this upcoming convention (after the first of the year). Please pray with us that this will open the right doors for Ayumi and bring this fledgling ministry into contact with women who need to be comforted in their loss.

By the way, while we were disappointed in the no to Nijuken-san’s request, she herself was completely cheery. “God has a little different plan than I had,” she said confidently. “I just have to keep looking for it.” Please pray that God will soon show her his plan.

Other prayer concerns
In our August newsletter, we shared the exciting conversion story of Eriko Tanaka. Unfortunately, recently her brother has become violent towards her. Pray for Tanaka-san’s protection. Her faith remains strong, but is certainly being challenged.

Also, Cheryl is hard at work on the 1998 international testimonies book, Yet I Will Rejoice, and a history book, Into All the World: A Century of Church of God Missions. The latter book, on which she is working with her father, is to be published in late 2008 as part of celebrating the hundredth anniversary of organized missions within the Church of God. It will include a reprinting of Lester Crose’s history, Passport for a Reformation (through 1980), and our additional thirty years since then, in addition to a number of appendices. Among these are 20 one-page biographies. Needless to say, this is a huge project. Please keep both of these books in your prayers.

Thank you so much for your prayers on which we depend!

On the Joys of Technology

Stephanie and baby, 22 weeks and counting

"The Joys of Technology." To be honest, this is one of the least likely of all subjects on which I might ever write. It would be right up there with, “How to Get to the Moon” (although I can pretty well get around Tokyo now), “French Cooking,” or for that matter, any cooking at all (although I once edited a cookbook and taught cooking classes in Fukuoka and Kobe), and, “How to Love Your Dog” (especially after seeing the sweatered and diapered one being carried by its owner in Jiyugaoka today). A much more probable topic for me would be, “I Hate Technology.”

Suffice it to say that I don’t enjoy or understand my computer, although it is indispensable to my work—which is why, and I’m giving your fair warning, I don’t want anyone changing my settings for any reason, thank you very much. I also don’t turn on our television, DVD player, or video. Actually, I’ve never cared that much for television, even the small black and white portable that was in my parents’ kitchen for years and was operated with a simple on/off switch. Truth is, I don’t know how to navigate all the technology today that is second nature to most anyone younger than I am, but as long as I can turn the computer on and get my Microsoft Word program to operate, I don’t really care to learn more.

So why am I thinking about the joys of technology as I sit down to compose this blog? Chalk it up to my devotional time this morning. As I was thanking God for so many blessings in my life, I realized that yesterday the computer and telephone had enabled us to talk with our son in Guam, my father in Indiana, our daughter in China, and Bernie’s mother, sister, nieces, and nephew-in-law in Missouri on the first anniversary of his father’s death. On top of that, e-mail had enabled me to make good progress on a history book that my father and I are writing together, despite being half a world apart in miles.

Talking with God, I admitted with thanksgiving that it is technology that keeps my far-flung family together. After all, the Creator of the universe also fashioned human intelligence and formed those whose inventions enrich my life so much, allowing me to stay in instant communication with those I love nearly twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Among other things, I can “watch” our daughter’s tummy expand as the baby grows in her womb. How different than our early days in Japan when we heard about Bernie’s father’s heart attack in a letter ten days after the fact. (And this was far better than even a generation earlier when our missionary predecessors came by freighter to Japan rather than hopping a plane for an easy, although long, trans-Pacific flight.)

It is astounding to think that our daughter has even called me to discuss a recipe while she was cooking dinner, as though she were in the apartment next door. Now I’m just waiting for the day technology enables me to sample it, too!

When I Was 10

Actually, I think I was 11 here

(between my brother and sister).

The year was 1965. In the news . . .

*Cosmonaut Aleksei Leonov of the Soviet Union becomes the first person to walk in space on March 18.
*Canada adopts the red and white maple leaf design as its national flag.
*Tokyo overtakes New York City as the most populated city in the world.
*President Lyndon Johnson orders a build up of U.S. military presence in South Vietnam from 75,000 to 125,000 troops, the U.S. begins regular bombing of cities in North Vietnam, and the first march against the Vietnam War brings out 25,000 protestors in the nation’s capital.
*Watts and Selma become household names in the civil rights movement led by Martin Luther King, Jr.
*Gateway Arch, the symbol of St. Louis, Missouri, is completed on October 28. (This is for Bernie and his Missouri roots.)
*Winston Churchill dies at 90 years old on January 24 and Shania Twain is born on August 28. (This is also for my country music-loving man.)
*On August 15, the Beatles perform the first major stadium concert in rock and roll history at New York’s Shea Stadium and release their sixth album in early December.

Frankly, I remember few, if any, of these major events. I wasn’t into world events or the Beatles very much—not yet. Vietnam was to become big in my mind and I eventually wore a POW bracelet faithfully, but that wasn’t until I was in junior and senior high school. In 1965, I was only a sixth grader at Elmer Wood Elementary School in Atwater, California. I prided myself on being a good student in a class where the teacher rewarded those of us who were by seating us in the order of our academic standing. I was always number one or two. While I was thrilled, it must have been horrible for those on the other side of the classroom, but I didn’t think about that then.

I think about it now. My now-adult children are both teachers and my husband is a junior and senior high school principal. What I hadn’t taken time to notice—that school just might be a very difficult place for some kids—is something my son, daughter, and husband deal with daily. Ben has a child who cannot control his anger; Stephanie has a very defiant student; and Bernie sees girls regularly in his office for all sorts of things.

And then there’s 10-year-old Shohei—the reason I've been contemplating what it was like when I was his age. Shohei is not an angry, defiant, always-into-trouble kid. On the contrary, he is mild-mannered, on the serious side, and has a cute, shy smile. But Shohei is unhappy and doesn’t want to go to school. (This phenomenon is not unusual at all in Japan where some children linger on the fringes of school for months and years.) Is it bullying? Boredom? Fear? I don’t know, but I’m troubled for Shohei. I met him in May and prayed with him after he told me God is calling him to become a pastor. And I feel compelled to continue praying for him today.

Even if right now circumstances were perfect, it would be as many years as he is old (and more) before Shohei can realize this goal and actually become a pastor. In the meantime, something is wrong. Will you please join me in praying for Shohei?

Lessons from the Mountain

Mt. Fuji, dancing with the clouds

Mt. Fuji. Without doubt, this mountain is one of Japan’s most magnificent and beloved national symbols—and I’ve been on its patio all week long! How grateful I am for this personal writing retreat only a stone’s throw away from this grandeur. Looking out the window, I feel the mountain’s strength because of its close proximity.

Of course, that’s assuming you can see it. Actually, Mt. Fuji has been dancing with the clouds all week except for Monday, when I arrived in Fujiyoshida by a quaint, two-car train and had my ticket punched by a real person instead of an automated ticket wicket—the way it was everywhere when we first lived in Japan thirty years ago. Mostly the clouds have won, thanks to a typhoon that finally arrived late last night.

On my second morning, unable to see anything of the rocky mountain, I contemplated the lessons I could learn from the thick shroud that blocked even a glimpse of it. Here they are: 1) Mt. Fuji is there, even though I don’t see it; 2) It’s close, even when there’s no evidence that it exists; 3) The fog and clouds don’t change the mountain at all; and,4) I will see the mountain again.

This morning, with the typhoon passed, Mt. Fuji began peeking out from here and there under the cloud bank as if gauging whether it was safe to display itself once again. By the afternoon, the sky was a hazy blue, providing a gorgeous picture frame for the distinctively-shaped mountain. Tonight, as I walked at sunset, there was a rosy coloring setting the top of the mountain off from the darkening sky. Tomorrow promises to be an even more beautiful day.

While I could easily spend this final evening reveling in the beauty of the mountain and the hint of fall in the air, especially after a very productive week of writing, I find my thoughts surprisingly turning elsewhere: to my friend whose husband beats her, to another whose home life is threatening, and to a third acquaintance whose husband was just convicted of a crime his wife and family are sure he never committed. It has not been a good week for any of them. There is no rosy hue on the top of a picturesque mountain in their homes this evening. In fact, they are about as low down in the valley as it gets. What can I say to encourage these three women? I’m at a loss for words.

Suddenly I remember the lessons from Mt. Fuji. Eagerly, I call out to my sisters from my heart. Remember! God is present, even though you don’t see him now. God is close to you, even when you find no evidence at all that he exists. The dark valley in which you’ve been thrust unwillingly doesn’t change God in the least. Finally, you will see God again. I promise you. Better yet, the Bible promises you. Hold fast to these truths, beloved, even in the midst of your storms, and take comfort from his words to you, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9).

On Answers to Prayer

One of the babies in the Tarumi Mothers and Babies Class

Glory to God
“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church in and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen” (Ephesians 3:20-21, NIV).

There’s no way that we could ever improve upon Paul’s eloquent expression of praise and glory to God, expressed above. But what we can do is to join him in lifting up our own praises to God for many wonderful answers to prayer in the past month. We thank you as well for joining us in the work in Japan through your faithful prayers. Let us share some recent answers to prayer so that you can praise God along with us.

New SAM arrival
We’re praising God that Millie Michael arrived safely in Japan on August 21. It was a joy to meet her at the airport, along with nine people from Kobe and Osaka who represented the three churches in which she will teach English-Bible classes—the major part of her special assignment missionary responsibilities for the next two years.

Due to the lateness of her SAM appointment, it wasn’t possible to get Millie’s missionary visa prior to her coming to Japan. So she entered on a three-month tourist visa instead. Our plan was to apply for a change of status for her from within the country once she arrived. Little did we know that the Lord was preparing to do “immeasurably more” for all of us. Two days after she arrived, Bernie and Millie went to the Kobe immigration office and walked away shortly with the missionary visa stamped in her passport! What we’d hoped was only that they’d accept the application, assuming that we’d have to reappear at a later date to claim the visa. Never before, in all the visa processing work we’ve been part of, has it gone so smoothly and easily. Isn’t God good!

Because the visa came so quickly, Millie was also able to get her alien registration taken care of that very day. With that in hand, she was certified as completely legal and thus able to open her bank account. All this red tape for getting settled generally takes a lot of time, but Millie had most everything done in a very easy two days. And, the icing on the cake was that she also found a used motor scooter for a great price. The owner came down $50 in his asking price and threw in the cost of licensing and taxes, in addition to putting new tires on the scooter, changing a brake part, and even filling it up with gas! The phrase “immeasurably more” just kept resounding in our heads as we helped get Millie settled in Kobe during our nearly three weeks there last month. Praise the Lord!

Tarumi Church
Thank you for your prayers for us as we served Tarumi Church for three Sundays in August. In addition to preaching, we participated in several church programs. Among these was the monthly Mothers and Babies Class. Five mothers and their babies (ages 10-14 months) attended, learning baby massage and actions songs to sing with their infants. There was also a cake/coffee time in which the women shared personal concerns about being mothers and heard a short devotional message by Cheryl. Even without a pastor, this class meets regularly month after month. In fact, it was started by a lay person AFTER we moved to Tokyo. How good it was to see a tangible example of what we keep reminding Tarumi Church—that God has not forgotten them and is still at work there, giving visions and outreach ideas, and bringing new people into their midst. Nevertheless, we do ask for prayer that God will provide a Japanese pastor soon.

We were thrilled to hear of yet another vision God has given Tarumi Church—that of comforting mothers who experience miscarriages, stillbirths, or the deaths of their very young infants. Atsumi Nijuken has a plan to make doll clothes-size baby gowns in which to dress these little ones for their funerals—something basically unheard of in Japan, where the tiny bodies are only disposed. She also wants to provide a venue through which grieving mothers can share their anguish and questions. Please pray that God will open the door for Nijuken-san into a hospital that would avail itself of the gowns and allow her to promote Ayumi, the support group she is forming. Pray also that the new website will lead many mothers to Ayumi, and ultimately to Christ, as Nijuken-san herself was led to Christ after the tragic death of her seven-month-old baby in utero.

National church convention
Thank you for your prayers for the national church convention, August 3-5. Ann Smith shared such encouraging messages! We believe that God brought her back to Japan last month for specific conversations she had with specific people, in addition to her preaching responsibilities. There was a spirit of joy and enthusiasm at the convention that we’ve not felt for some time, something also noted by many other participants. Praise the Lord for doing “immeasurably more” in that setting, as well as for all he will do in the coming month as you continue to pray faithfully for us and the church in Japan.

When Different Becomes Normal

Welcoming Millie (in yellow t-shirt) at Kansai Airport

Thirty-one years ago on another hot summer day like today, Bernie and I first arrived in Japan to begin our two years as special assignment missionaries (SAMs). Never in our wildest dreams could we have predicted that this short-term assignment would stretch into twenty-eight years! But that’s another story.

I can remember some of the “different” things I met early on in Japan as clearly as if I discovered them yesterday. There are many examples, including these:

*Driving on the left side of the road. I was sure we were going to end up as casualties in a head-on accident as the missionaries who met us at the airport drove us to their house;

*Eating cold noodles in the summer. Thinking about cold spaghetti and congealed meat sauce, I couldn’t imagine that somen, a cold noodle dish, could possibly be appetizing. I was wrong. Now somen is one of our favorite summer dishes;

*Using tissues for napkins at the table. Although this has changed, you couldn’t even buy napkins when we first came to Japan. But at least we didn’t have to make a roll of toilet paper double for napkins, a common practice in some Asian countries;

*Having bugs in our house. I used to think cockroaches meant a dirty house, but now they and other “critters” are just a part of the décor. I must admit, however, that I’m not quite as casual in my thoughts about the snake I once found in our kitchen;

*Pointing to your nose when talking about yourself. How odd, I thought, having assumed that everyone in the world points to their chest as Americans do. Now my pointer finger finds the end of my nose as instinctively as I breathe;

*Bowing to a telephone. Bowing is so ingrained in the earliest teaching of manners that the Japanese unconsciously bow to someone on the other end of the line as they conclude the conversation. I used to laugh; now I bow with the best of them;

*Being aghast at prices. Japan has one of the highest costs of living in the world. But soon you learn to quit converting yen to dollars whenever you shop and to make price comparisons within Japan rather than with the United States. If you don’t, you’ll starve to death, thinking you can’t afford to buy anything.

Four days ago, we welcomed a new SAM at the beginning of her two-year assignment in Japan. Today, as Millie sat in the back seat while I navigated some streets barely wider than our van and with inclines worthy of San Francisco, I heard a slight gasp, some nervous laughter, and the comment, “Culture shock!”

Looking back on our SAM experience of so long ago, I recall that I knew we’d survived culture shock the day we realized that different had become normal. I pray Millie will meet that day soon. In the meantime, may she delight in discovering new ways of thinking and doing, and laugh a lot in the learning process.

When Pain Brings Comfort

Not every pregnancy ends with a beautiful baby.

For those who mourn, there is Ayumi.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4, NIV).

It was her second pregnancy. Although the first one had been difficult, even dangerous, Atsumi Nijuken delivered a healthy baby girl. She and her proud husband named their daughter Tomoka. Three years later, they were again looking forward to having a baby.

But something went wrong. One day, seven months into the pregnancy, Nijuken-san noticed that the baby wasn’t moving. Upon examination, the doctor announced dreaded news. Nothing could be done except to induce labor. Ten days later, she delivered a second daughter—once again, perfectly formed, but dead. During four days in the hospital, the grief she experienced was a taste of hell, and the sight of pregnant women and babies aroused unbelievable feelings of envy, anger, and hatred within her.

It was also a frightening time. “What is happening to me? How can I possibly think such horrible things?” Nijuken-san anguished, knowing she didn’t really didn’t want to hate anybody. She only wanted to return to life as it had been before her baby died.

“Why did my baby have to die?” The question tormented her as much as her emotions. It was a question that had no answer—until later when her inner turmoil led her to a church and eventually to Christ.

“It was through the baby’s death that I was born again. Of course, the death of my baby was very hard. I didn’t want her to die. But through that difficult experience, both prayer and God became real to me,” Nijuken-san testifies.

Today she knows another reason for the pain God allowed—pain that also included a third pregnancy that ended in miscarriage before her prayers were honored and she gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Recently, God has given her a new vision: comforting other mothers who experience miscarriages, stillbirths, or the deaths of their very young infants. Her plan is to make doll clothes-size baby gowns in which to dress these little ones for their funerals—something basically unheard of in Japan, where the tiny bodies are only disposed. Nijuken-san also wants to provide a venue through which grieving mothers can share their anguish and questions. It is her desire to “comfort those in trouble” and “mourn with those who mourn” (Romans 12:15) through forming a group called Ayumi (in English, a walk or stroll). She describes the name as indicative of walking with the hurting in their time of need.

After months of being unable to get a hearing for her plans from hospitals and clinics all over Kobe, Nijuken-san is scheduled to meet the head of a well-known obstetrics hospital on September 7. Please pray that the director may listen with open ears and grant favor to Nijuken-san’s proposal. Pray that Ayumi will be launched soon.

How to Climb a Mountain (or Be a Missionary)

O Our climbing group, ready to ascend the mountain

(Bernie, on left; Cheryl, in red jacket, in the middle)

According to a Japanese saying, everyone should climb Mt. Fuji once, but only a fool ascends a second time.

On July 30, as I struggled to conquer Japan’s signature mountain a sixth time, I was fairly sure that indeed I was a fool. During the last hour to the summit, lightning struck repeatedly and so near by that I felt the earth tremble. By the time Bernie and I got to the top of the 12,388-foot mountain, we were completely soaked to the skin by rain and sleet that turned to snow while our group attempted unsuccessfully to stop shivering and dry out before beginning our descent. Eleven hours after we stumbled back into the fifth station, where we’d begun our adventure at 4:30 that morning, my legs wobbled, my strength was depleted, and I was sure this was my final Mt. Fuji climb. (Bernie says he’s still game—just not this year.)

Amazingly, despite the difficult conditions, I reached the apex two hours faster than my earlier Mt. Fuji ascent three years before. Surely fear of the storm from which we could not hide pushed us ahead without resting. We weren’t fast, but we persevered and keep going, step by step. Five and a half hours later, we successfully reached the top.

Perseverance. This is what Isaiah was talking about when he wrote, “Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:30-31).

Five days after Mt. Fuji, I sat in a women’s meeting where a Japanese missionary shared about the formidable challenge of reaching Tibetan Buddhists for Christ. There are reportedly about 1,000 evangelical and 2,000 Catholic Christians among the world’s 5 million Tibetans, a people group that is one of the least reached and most resistant to the message of Christ anywhere. Her story was both exciting and challenging.

After eight years of ministry to Tibetans, her husband has baptized three young men, one of whom is now attending Bible school. The most recent convert is using his artistic talent for Christ, but sadly, the second one has returned to his Tibetan Buddhist roots. In addition to discipling these young men, the missionary couple has developed relationships with a handful of other Tibetans. Theirs is a ministry of seed-planting for a harvest they pray and believe will come one day.

Listening to my Japanese colleague, I contemplated both the importance of persevering and my own recent Mt. Fuji experience. Just as I slogged along slowly—sometimes even painfully—until finally reaching the summit, this missionary couple is persevering against all odds in ministry to Tibetans, one step at a time. Usually their work is neither glamorous nor exciting, for if one is looking for quick ministry results, their particular mission field is not the place to go. But it is where God has called them.

How well we understand the call to faithfulness in an unresponsive mission field. Despite Christianity’s introduction to Japan in 1549 by Francis Xavier, a Jesuit priest, and Protestant roots reaching back about 150 years, roughly only one percent of Japanese are Christians today. Nevertheless, we continue to pray and believe that one day Japan will be a Christian nation.

In the meantime, we are determined to persevere. We and our missionary coworkers in difficult lands will “walk and not faint.” We WILL reach the top of the mountain because God, who is faithful, strengthens, enables, and is our constant hope.

On Random Questions

This random picture has nothing to do with today's blog entry,

but it does show Bernie and me on the slopes of Mt. Fuji recently.

It’s an amazing conundrum. When I have the most pressing deadlines, my mind is everywhere but on what I need to be thinking about most. Thus, involved as I am in two big writing projects, yet not having achieved the progress I should have by now, I’m struggling to control my mind from asking the most random questions. For example:

*How can Japan be having a “dry rainy season,” according to weather forecasters, when it’s rained nearly every day (it seems) during the month of July? Usually in the summer, our plants wilt from heat and a lack of water. This month, they’ve drowned.

*According to the newspaper, Japan’s Construction and Transport Ministry has decided to conduct a survey over the next year to judge how well railway companies are handling rush hours. With some trains running at 200% capacity, does anyone need to spend time and money on such a survey? Isn’t the answer obvious?

*And besides, is the Construction and Transport Ministry going to do anything to change the situation when they admit that trains are dangerously overcrowded in Tokyo? Hmm.

*Why did our favorite toy store in Jiyugaoka sell out and become a dog boutique? We used to take our now-adult kids there years ago. I feel like organizing a protest march. If there’s anything Jiyugaoka doesn’t need, it’s another dog boutique. We don’t have even one game and toy store now, but doggie stores are everywhere—and growing in numbers.

*Japanese are great recyclers. We have a whole closet devoted to this mandated practice: burnables, non-burnables, aluminum cans, steel cans, milk cartons, newspapers, glass, and plastic pop bottles. So why do stores over-package with such delight? Recycling would be much easier if there wasn’t so much to handle. (The salad I enjoy buying at a nearby store comes in its disposable salad bowl that is wrapped in a plastic bag, then in a paper bag, and finally is put in another plastic bag with handles for easy carrying.)

*Why does a McDonald’s hamburger taste better in Japan than in the United States, even though they are supposedly the same? Could it be because the service is so much better in Japan? And there’s no tipping expected anywhere in this country, either.

*It’s quite hot here today, but this is to be expected in summer. So why do Americans always want to live in the season it’s not? Why do they turn their air conditioners so cold that one must put on a sweater or jacket indoors in the summer? Likewise, why do they run their furnaces so hot in winter that people wear short sleeves to keep from sweating? One American once told me it was his right to sleep “naturally” and that he didn’t like the heavy weight of blankets—that’s why his furnace was set at 80 degrees. I wonder if he’s as self-centered as he seemed. Probably.

*How can I feel so much love for the sonogram picture that hangs above my desk?

*How will I ever make these deadlines if I don’t get back to work?

On a Most Beautiful Sound

"My frame was not hidden from you

when I was made in the secret place" (Ps. 139:15).

It wasn’t always this way. I can remember sleeping pretty much across America on our nearly annual family cross-country trips from Indiana to visit grandparents in Oregon. It was a good way to pass the three days in the car, especially across flat Nebraska with its endless miles of corn and wheat fields. I could sleep anywhere, anytime, and for as long as I wanted. But that was forever ago. Today I need my own pillow and, even more importantly, an eye mask and ear plugs. Some time ago, although I’m not sure when, I realized the horrible truth—I’ve become a “delicate” sleeper.

If it were only that, but it’s even worse. Noises now bother me in the daytime, too. There are days when the songs of the children in the kindergarten downstairs are sweet—like those spring mornings when they sing, “Saita, saita, turipu no hana ga naranda, naranda, aka, shiro, kiiro.” (This favorite song of all Japanese children translates as, “Bloomed, bloomed, the tulips have bloomed. All lined up, all lined up, red, white, and yellow.”) But more often than not, there’s a screamer in the bunch. His voice cuts through the sweetness like a fingernail being raked across a chalkboard. I love kids—and Japanese children are some of the cutest in the world—but this one needs to be muzzled, especially when I’m facing a writing deadline.

There’s also an orchestra that practices downstairs every Saturday afternoon. Actually, I think it’s only a string quintet, but even one instrumentalist would irritate me because the session tends to begin just about the time I want to take a nap. Even my earplugs can’t drown them out, although once, on a visit to India, I slept through the clamor of a family of monkeys that performed acrobatics on the verandah outside my hotel room. (On the other hand, my roommate was traumatized by those three hours.)

Nevertheless, everything was different on Wednesday. “Now we’re going to hear the heart beat,” Dr. Sakamoto announced. And there it was: thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump. Any words I might have said were immediately caught in my throat and my eyes filled with tears that trickled down my cheeks. Bernie, to my right, had the same reaction as we stared, transfixed, at the sonogram monitor that introduced us to our first grandbaby, scheduled to be born in Tokyo around January 31, 2008.

Three days later, I continue to be awed by the miracle of life growing inside our daughter. Remembering the high possibility that Stephanie would not be able to conceive, I can only praise God along with King David, who declared, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be” (Psalm 139:13-16).

Thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump. It was a baby, alive and well, at twelve weeks and three days after conception. It was a most beautiful sound.

On Teaching the Children

Riding bicycles with our "grandsons"

The commandment
“…watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them slip from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them” (Deuteronomy 4:9, NIV).

Since March, it has been our joy to be honorary grandparents for three African boys: Tana, 8; Kuku, 4; and Anesuishe, 4 months old, whose name means Immanuel in the Shona language of their native Zimbabwe. “Our grandsons” are the sons of Gibson and Moline Chamboko, whose work brought them to Tokyo shortly after we moved here in 2004. (We got to know them through an English-language small group we attend weekly on Thursdays.)

Here’s how the “adoption” happened—our true confessions, if you please. One evening after supper, we realized that we desperately needed to make some lifestyle changes. After work, work, and more work (even mission work), we were tired, physically out of shape, bored, and surely boring, too. Visiting the Chambokos at Anesuishe’s birth gave us the idea of becoming adoptive grandparents—although we’re called uncle and aunt. We’ve enjoyed riding bicycles, throwing rocks in the river, kicking a soccer ball, playing on playground equipment, baking together, and more. Between loving and playing with these active boys and our joining a health club in May, we’re seeing positive results from these lifestyle changes. And, as Gibson once reminded us, we’re also partnering with them in raising their sons to love and obey God.

Kid’s Place
We’re also impacting the lives of other children through Cheryl’s work with Kid’s Place, a missions education program for preschoolers through elementary age children. Here’s an edited version of our blog report last week:

“No sirens were wailing, but it was an emergency anyway. With the infection spreading, Julian’s only hope was an operation. Preparing the toilet paper bandages and her plastic knife scalpel, the doctor prayed and the operation began on the young patient, one of 200 children who joined the Kid’s Place 2007 World Tour on the Anderson University campus during North American Convention, June 22-27, 2007, in Anderson, Indiana.

On the whirlwind three-day adventure, elementary kids wrote in hieroglyphics and joined in an archaeological dig in Egypt, learned origami paper folding and ate rice with chopsticks in Japan, experienced the challenges of living below the poverty line in the United States, met “real live” missionaries from Africa, fashioned kangaroo-like pouches for prayers and threw boomerangs in Australia, and prayed for persecuted Christians in Egypt, among other activities. At the same time, preschoolers traveled to India in Little Kid’s Place, meeting in Park Place Church of God, adjacent to the university campus.

While opening kids’ eyes to the mission field around the world, Kid’s Place is committed to challenging them to answering God’s call today in preparation for the time he may tap them to become pastors and missionaries in the future. Please pray with us for the nurturing of the next generation of missionaries, pastors, and church leaders.

By the way, Julian survived the imaginary operation in a medical clinic in Haiti, another destination on the World Tour. As a result, kids saw how missionaries share God’s love through preaching, teaching, and even medicine.

Looking ahead, Kid’s Place will travel to China for the Olympics in 2008. (Curriculum available by spring, 2008.) Additionally, curricula of past programs written and/or edited by Cheryl are available at minimal cost through CHOG Ministries (call 800-848-2464 and ask for Vivian Atkins, or e-mail Vatkins@chog.org). Easily adaptable for VBS, children’s church, or other kids programming, these curricula include studies of the 10/40 Window; Japan; Costa Rica; the southern cone of South America; Australia/New Zealand; the Micronesian, Caribbean/Atlantic, and Hawaiian islands; and more. A historical look at the Church of God also helped kids celebrate the 100th convention in 2006 through drama and interviews with church pioneers from bygone days.”

Tarumi Church, Kobe
Since March, we have visited Tarumi Church for a weekend (or more) each month. While we are happy to serve in this way, this added schedule is straining both physically and emotionally. (There is much discouragement as the congregation approaches the start of five years of seeking a Japanese pastor. Last month, a leading layperson also left the church rather unhappily, and this has resulted in division within the congregation.)

Please pray for us as we spend three weeks in Kobe from August 10, that we may both encourage and help with healing that needs to take place there.

Kid's Place Visits the World in 2007

"Surgery" in an imaginary Haitian medical clinic

No sirens were wailing, but it was an emergency anyway. With the infection spreading, Julian’s only hope was an operation. Preparing the toilet paper bandages and her plastic knife scalpel, the doctor prayed and the operation began on the young patient, one of 200 children who joined the Kid’s Place 2007 World Tour and traveled in Hartung Hall on the Anderson University campus during North American Convention, June 22-27, 2007, in Anderson, Indiana.

On the whirlwind three-day adventure, elementary kids wrote in hieroglyphics and joined in an archaeological dig in Egypt, learned origami paper folding and ate rice with chopsticks in Japan, experienced the challenges of living below the poverty line in the United States, met “real live” missionaries from Africa, fashioned kangaroo-like pouches for prayers and threw boomerangs in Australia, and prayed for persecuted Christians in Egypt, among other activities. At the same time, preschoolers traveled to India in Little Kid’s Place, meeting in the facilities of Park Place Church, adjacent to the university campus.

New this year to the 25-year-old children’s program was a daily full group worship experience in Byrum Hall, the original camp meeting venue of more than 100 years ago. While opening kids’ eyes to the mission field around the world, Kid’s Place is committed to challenging them to answering God’s call today in preparation for the time he may tap them to become pastors and missionaries in the future.

“It’s awesome to see the ways God showed up at Kid’s Place,” declared Michelle Parker of Laurel, Mississippi, program director. “We’re expecting the same thing next year when Kid’s Place travels to China for the Olympics.”

By the way, Julian survived the imaginary operation in a medical clinic in Haiti, another destination on the World Tour. As a result, kids saw how missionaries share God’s love through preaching, teaching, and even medicine.

Curricula of past Kid’s Place programs written and/or edited by Cheryl are available at minimal cost through Church of God Ministries (check the Church of God Web site, call 800-848-2464 and ask for Vivian Atkins, or e-mail Vatkins@chog.org). Easily adaptable for vacation Bible schools, children’s church, or other kids programming, these curricula include missions studies of the 10/40 Window, Japan, Costa Rica, Thailand, the southern cone of South America, Australia/New Zealand, the islands of Micronesia, Hawaii, and the Caribbean/Atlantic region, among others. Additionally, a historical look at the Church of God helped kids celebrate the hundredth camp meeting/convention in 2006 through drama and interviews with church pioneers from bygone days.

Please pray with us for the nurturing of the next generation of missionaries, pastors, and church leaders.

On Change

Sagging--in all its splendor!

“Shitsureishimasu,” she announced suddenly.

Roughly translated as, “Excuse my rudeness,” those words are a hallmark of Japan’s traditionally genteel manners that make it possible for people to get along here despite the fact that this is one of the most crowded nations in the world. (For example, there are more than 14,000 people jam-packed into every square mile of Tokyo, where we live.) Perhaps times are changing!

Before I had a chance to respond or even understand what she was really saying, the athletic trainer-to-be grabbed my right hip in her hand and gave it a firm squeeze. Then, to my growing surprise, she declared loudly enough for everyone in the gym to hear, “Just as I thought! Your hips are sagging!”

Recovering slightly, I joked back, “At this age, everything is sagging!”

To which she responded, but without the slightest hint of jest, “Hmmm,” meaning—and not at all subtly—“I agree entirely.” I was joking; she wasn’t, not even a bit.

So there you have it—a one-word evaluation of my physique at 52 years of age: sagging. Whether it’s the bags under my eyes that exceed the allowable size for airplane carry on pieces, the soft undersides of my arms that wave like flags in the wind, or other less noticeable (when fully clothed) areas of my body, the word with which I was branded is unfortunately as specific and accurate as the nutrition facts labels on food products. But then again, isn’t that why we joined the training gym? Believe me, it’s not because we’ve got an excess of spare time to kill!

Sagging. And to think there was a time when one of my biggest worries was how my mini-skirt or striped bell bottoms looked on my still slim legs and how my floppy suede hat appeared on my back-length, straight, yet-uncolored brown hair. (Yes, I was coming of age in the late 60s.) Reading this morning’s headlines, “Hamas takes control of Gaza,” I thought about how times and appearances—and worries—have changed.

In this day of change, I am so glad that, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8). He is the one constant on whom I can depend.