Back in the Harvest Field

August in Japan means neighborhood summer festivals.

The charge
“The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field,” (Matthew 9:37-38, NIV).

We don’t know if these words in Matthew inspired William J. Henry in 1897 to compose the words and music to the song, I Cannot Be Idle: “I cannot be idle for Jesus says, ‘Go and work in my harvest today; And then at the evening when labor is done, whatever is right I will pay.’ Then away to the work I will go and join in the reaping of grain. And back from the harvest with beautiful sheaves, I’ll come with rejoicing again.”

But both Jesus’ charge and the words of this old Church of God hymn are reverberating in our hearts this morning, our first Monday back in Japan after a three-month medical leave of absence. It is good to unpack and settle back into the apartment we’ve lived in for the past seven years. It is even better to be back in the harvest field God first called us to in 1976. Even though we’ve lived in four different Japanese cities since then (Saga, Fukuoka, Kobe, and Tokyo), God’s call on our lives hasn’t changed. We thank him for his grace and call, even as we thank you for your prayers and other support that have enabled us to be obedient to God here in Japan. Please do pray with us that we will see the promise of a plentiful harvest fulfilled.

An update on Cheryl
During our three months in the United States, we visited M. D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston three different times. Our most recent visit in early August resulted in the good news that Votrient, the drug Cheryl began on June 10, is being effective in the fight against cancer. For the first time since she began taking anti-cancer medications in September 2009, the main tumor in the cavity where the left kidney was is dying on the inside. We had expected the medicine to work by shrinking the tumors. (In fact, the main tumor somehow managed to grow a little, despite what is happening inside.) But God can work any way he decides—and even without our understanding—so we are looking ahead in faith that come November (Cheryl’s next visit to Houston) the situation will be even better. Could it be the doctors will discover that the main tumor is dead and there is no evidence of any of the smaller tumors that are now in the abdominal wall? Please pray with us to this end.

By the way, we reported in the last newsletter that Cheryl was experiencing great difficulty in adjusting to Votrient. Praise God that this is no longer her situation. Although she does have some digestive issues and must be careful to conserve her energy, she no longer deals with pain, fevers, and the other more distressing side effects. Praise God for answering prayer and for working in Cheryl’s body through Votrient—something confirmed again by the most recent blood tests which showed all the important numbers rising into the “normal” range. Needless to say, we are rejoicing!

For your further prayers
Now that we’re back in Japan, our focus has shifted from medical treatments to the harvest field. As such, Bernie preached at Tamagawa Church on Sunday following our arrival late Friday, August 20. We were grateful to discover he’d not forgotten his Japanese during our long time away and for the warm welcome we received (in more ways than one). Not only were temperatures nearing 100 degrees that morning (we are SO grateful for air conditioning at church and in our apartment), but the typically reserved Japanese congregants were outspoken and demonstrative in their joy at our return. Please pray for us as we continue to pastor Tamagawa Church and mentor our associate, Fujiwara-sensei, until she is ordained and can lead the church herself.

The next day—today—Bernie was in his office at Tamagawa Seigakuin. September promises to be both exciting and busy for the school as it celebrates its 60th anniversary through a number of special activities. Pray with us that these will bring glory to God and serve as a great testimony of his love to all who participate, including the as many as 6,500 visitors who will attend the annual school festival on September 18 and 20.

We also look forward to resuming our monthly home meeting, Praise Time, on September 13. We understand a new woman will join the group that day. She has recently been diagnosed with lung and brain cancer. Please pray that Cheryl’s own cancer journey will be a witness of hope for her and lead her to accept the only true and lasting source of all hope, Jesus Christ.

Finally, please pray for Will and Mandy Johnson, our newest staff members in Japan. They too arrived on August 20. Pray for their transition to life in Japan, their teaching assignments at Tamagawa Seigakuin, and their service at Tamagawa Church.

Not a Chance Encounter

Emma. I met her poolside, overlooking the beautiful ocean of Mexico’s Cozumel resort island where we were vacationing. We were unlikely conversation partners: she, in her mid-twenties, on her honeymoon, and holding a can of beer in her right hand while occasionally drawing in from the cigarette in her left; me, enjoying the solitude and quiet of the sinking sun whose pink, red, and orange hues were gradually transforming the western sky into an exquisite palette of breathtaking beauty.

Actually, I wasn’t in the mood for talking with anyone, especially one so obviously “different” from myself. Only a short time earlier, I’d given into the tears that had threatened all day. It was the last day of our vacation, but more than that, it was only one week before we were to return to Japan. (It’s always hard to say good-bye, no matter how many times we do it since returning to Tokyo means facing a lifestyle and locality I’ve never yet in seven years grown to appreciate. The transition never comes easily.)

I’d been ignoring the reality of the passing days and what was coming, but with only a week remaining, I couldn’t pretend time didn’t matter any longer. So the tears had come, first only a couple escaping down my cheeks, and then suddenly a torrent was shaking my shoulders. Bernie sat with me on the couch, delaying his snorkeling to stay with me until the flood subsided. Shortly, I made my way outside to be comforted by the approaching sunset.

Alone and drinking in the peacefulness of the landscape, I was reminding myself to hold it close to my heart so that I will be able to conjure up the comforting memory when I feel irritated by 27 million people soon crowding me unmercifully in Tokyo. And here came Emma.

“Buenas noches,” she greeted me cheerfully. I smiled and responded, “Hi,” in English, signaling that I wasn’t Mexican and couldn’t converse with her in Spanish. Apparently she couldn’t have gone much further herself because she breathed a sigh of relief and immediately switched into English. Sitting down on the edge of the elevated pool area, she struck up a conversation. One topic led to another and before long I was answering an oft-repeated question when someone discovers we’ve lived in Japan for 30-plus years.

“Wow! That’s a long time,” Emma marveled at our tenure, telling me that she was only 26 years old herself. “You must have been really young when you went. Wasn’t that scary?”

“When you’re young, you never imagine there’s something you can’t do,” I replied with a laugh, even as a voice inside told me not to miss this opportunity to share the real reason we went to Japan. It wasn’t just that we were young—I was 21 and Bernie 22—and looking for adventure; the main reason was God’s call upon our lives.

“Actually, we’re Christian missionaries,” I told Emma. “That’s why we went to Japan and that’s why we’ve stayed so long.”

As I expected, there was a momentary pause in the conversation as if Emma was wondering what she’d gotten herself into and evaluating whether she wanted to go any further. To my surprise, she proceeded to tell me that she is an agnostic who wonders whether atheists just might be right about the non-existence of God. Nevertheless, she is very curious about religion and has her own repertoire of religious experiences, including infant baptism in the Lutheran church and rebaptism in a Pentecostal church as a teenager.

What in the world can I say that will make any difference to Emma? I prayed silently as we conversed. In the end, I shared with my new friend that knowing God is not about religion, but about relationship. I urged her to continue keeping her ears open because God so desires an intimate relationship that he is pursing her, even through our talk. I also thanked her for our conversation after she thanked me for not judging her.

“It was a gift to me,” I assured her. Noting the quizzical expression on her face, I added, “It’s been a tough day, but the God I believe in and trust just used you to encourage me.”

Whether or not Emma can understand, I have no doubt that this was not a chance encounter. Through a confused agnostic, God reminded me of his desire to use me as his hands, feet, listening ears, and heart—even in Mexico. And most especially in Japan.

You've Got to be Kidding!

Bernie and Cheryl, grateful for times with our grandchildren

“You’ve got to be kidding!” That’s the first thought that crossed my mind when I stepped on the scales at the doctor’s office and discovered I’d lost another two-and-a-half pounds since my previous visit two weeks earlier. I wasn’t happy with the news. In fact, my shoulders sagged with discouragement and tears welled up in my eyes—a really amazing reaction, considering that I’ve counted calories and worried about my weight all of my adult life.

Despite great diligence on my part, weight has always hounded me like ants drawn to the sticky sweetness left on a picnic table after a mid-summer watermelon feed. Born with a sweet tooth, I’ve been especially susceptible to chocolate, a delectable delight that has always lured me like a siren’s song. In fact, I’ve often quipped that I’d have to die in order to lose weight. That joke doesn’t seem so funny anymore—too close for comfort, I’m sure.

And besides, I’m quite alive and well, thank you very much. But, without much appetite and battling some digestion issues (side effects of the cancer drug I began in June), sometimes even the thought of food is enough to nauseate me. Needless to say, eating has become a chore—necessary, I know, but downright hard, nevertheless. Even ice cream and chocolate no longer have allure for me!

Off the scales, I entered the examination room, had my vitals checked, and then waited for the doctor. That he was only running fifteen minutes behind schedule wasn’t the only surprise I encountered there. Being told that my blood work showed I’m malnourished and that he wanted to prescribe an appetite-stimulating drug was far more shocking than either a mostly-on-time doctor or further weight loss.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” I mumbled to myself, shaking my head in wonder. After all, I am familiar with appetite suppressors, have even tried some—without success, I might add. But appetite stimulants? They are as unknown to me as Russian or Arabic.

All of this is to say that the cancer journey continues to be one of new and unexpected experiences, only some of which I understand and none of which I control. I am reminded of the psalmist’s thoughts:

“Oh Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue, you know it completely, O Lord. You hem me in—behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain” (Psalm 139:1-6).

And I am grateful that it is enough that God knows, even when—especially when—I don’t.

Lessons through My Grandson

Waiting for the apples to turn red

Being a top student was always important to me in my school years. If I wasn’t going to win awards for my athletic prowess, my musical abilities, or my inventive genius, at least I could stand tall when grades were handed out. And I did.

Which is why it’s such a surprise to me that I’m so slow in learning some of life’s most important lessons—not the ABCs, but far more valuable things like trust, patience, and perseverance. The Lord, using my two-and-a-half-year-old grandson, is determined that I have every opportunity to catch up where I’m behind in my lessons.

“Coco, how’re you feeling?” Little Ben asked me as he walked into my bedroom where I was sitting, exhausted, in a chair.

“Not so good,” I responded, adding, “That’s why Coco’s a little sad today—because I don’t feel good.”

Without missing a beat and with all the certainty of an experienced and learned elder, Benjamin continued, “Jesus will help you.”

Smiling at my grandson for reminding me of such a fundamental truth—no matter the pain, how could I have lost my focus?—I hugged him and said, “You’re absolutely right! Jesus will help Coco feel better so I don’t have to be sad.”

“That’s awesome!” Benjamin returned. I wanted to hug him again, but he giggled as he escaped my reach and ran out of the room. End of the lesson, but I was left with a warm glow that, I suddenly realized, had uplifted both my sad spirit and my tired body. I knew I’d been visited by the Lord himself to restore my trust in him and his unconditional love and perfect plan for my life.

A few days later, it was time for yet another lesson. Benjamin and I discovered an apple tree at the back of the apartment complex where our families are spending the summer—and it was loaded with fruit. Benjamin wanted to begin eating immediately, but I explained that since the apples were still mostly green, it was too soon to pick them.

“Well, let’s wait,” he replied matter-of-factly. “We can wait till the apples turn red.”

“But that happens a little bit by a little bit,” I protested. To which Benjamin responded without the slightest bit of frustration as he sat down on the concrete parking block in front of the tree, “Little bit by little bit. We can wait.”

How long will you wait? I wondered to myself as I sat down beside him, facing the apple tree and its not-going-to-be-red-for-a-long-time fruit. What patience! More than that, what trust! With little concept of time, Benjamin was willing to sit and wait expectantly simply because he believed me when I told him the apples will turn red little bit by little bit. No doubts in his mind that what I said was true—just because I said so.

“Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see,” we’re told in Hebrews 11:1. I think of God’s promises of healing and answers to prayer—for all of us, for me. I realize again that I need to sit quietly more often—even on a concrete parking block—and wait patiently for the Lord to fulfill his words. If a two-year-old can do it, why can’t I?

Cycling in the Mountains

Johnson family reunion--first of two family reunions this summer

Words of uplifting
“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).

We’d lived in Japan for less than three months when we took our first bicycle road trip. Young, naive, and still believing that anyone with enough determination can accomplish anything, it never occurred to us that we couldn’t read Japanese (and thus, not a map in Kyushu, the southernmost main island of this country). Perhaps, if we’d thought it through ahead of time, we’d have considered that our lack of language and our hand-drawn (and definitely not-to-scale) map might be less than helpful during this 10-day cycling adventure through the mountains, rice paddies, and pottery villages of northwestern Kyushu. Perhaps this experience set the positive tone for the following 30+ years we’ve lived in Japan. Although we ran out of money before we made it back to Saga, our home and starting point, we discovered the graciousness of the Japanese people doesn’t allow them to turn their backs to needy strangers who appear at their front doors.

Not only did funds challenge us, but the never-ending mountains did, too. I clearly remember one day when it seemed we did little but cycle upwards. Flying down the roads once we’d finally cleared the passes was exhilarating—but this joy was always short-lived. Mostly we strained to keep up enough momentum to continue pedaling and to keep our eyes on that next bend in the road; surely the elusive crest would be just around the corner. But the vista at the turn revealed only that the mountaintop hasn’t been reached yet. Again and again, the next corner became the next goal where usually we discovered another challenging curve to conquer. Was victory even possible?

While he wasn’t on a cycling trip with us in Kyushu, Joshua certainly could have understood our feelings as we battled the mountains, exhaustion, and doubts that our hopes and dreams could be realized. Would he be able to lead the children of Israel to victory? Or would defeat be his legacy?

An update on Cheryl
Today, nearly 35 years later, we’re identifying with all these emotions and questions once again. During the month since we’ve been in the United States for medical leave, we’ve heard, “This medicine isn’t doing what we’d hoped it would” (the second anti-cancer drug), “but there’s another new medicine we can try.” Then, “We don’t think your cancer is metastatic, and surgery could leave you ‘cancer-free.’” Followed by, “This is morbid surgery—very invasive surgery with difficult side effects, including paralysis.”

At the same time, since beginning the new medicine on June 10, Cheryl has been in near-constant pain in her lower abdomen and left flank while also running daily low-grade fevers; she’s experienced dizziness, nausea, and other side effects that she’s not dealt with to date (but no mouth sores!); and general to overwhelming fatigue has become her constant companion. (A blood transfusion in Houston gave her some color once again, but didn’t do anything to restore her energy level.) Needless to say, the questions and doubts have been more evident of late. Thank you for standing with us in prayer and for helping us keep going in the midst of the sometimes confusing array of emotions and questions that we’re confronted with day by day. Please keep praying.

Looking ahead
Currently Cheryl is being seen by a local oncologist for the day-to-day questions and concerns that arise. At the same time, she is a patient at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, where she’ll be seen on August 3-4 for follow-up testing and consultations. The big questions to be answered at that time will be: Has the Votrient (anti-cancer #3) been effective in suppressing or reducing the tumors? Should surgery be scheduled to remove the tumors? If so, when? If the Votrient isn’t working, what should the next step be? Please pray for us to have wisdom in facing these (and other) questions.

But there are some less weighty things we’re also anticipating. We’ll be participating in activities of North American Convention, June 25-30, here in Anderson and look forward to meeting many of our prayer supporters there. We’re also eager to see the debut of In a Besieged City, the 15th in a series of international testimonies books Cheryl has compiled and edited since 1993, as well as publication of the soft-cover edition of Into All the World, first published in hard back in 2009. A Barton family reunion in mid-July and spending the month of July with Stephanie, Donald, Little Ben, and Hosanna will also be joyful and renewing experiences for us. Thanks for your prayers to surround and support us through all our times in Indiana, Missouri, and Texas.