The end, I've found, has many angles, and they're all double-sided. Most people talk about ends from a hindsight view, which makes sense because most of the ends we experience don't let us know just when they're coming.
But, from the day we started this mission, the end date was clear. So now, I get the rare opportunity to write to you from the other side of the end--staring down the barrel of it, so to speak.
We leave in 5 days. It's hard for me to imagine it, but it's also easy for me to appreciate it. Every smile from my friends that I read with means that much more to me, and I'm always filled with an urge to leave them with something that lasts.
That's what this mission was about I think: reaching the end in a way that it leaves a legacy in everyone involved.
Maybe that's a bit dramatic--it certainly felt a bit dramatic to write--but I also think it's true.
From my experience, we don't often talk with each other about our dreams, our struggles, or how to make the world and ourselves a better. Here, we do that everyday.
We've had quite a share of trials while we've been here. Tragic and troubling things have happened in the lives of the members of the church, our readers, and even our team. I can't say that the end of our mission has also brought the end of the pain and worry of these events, but I can say that no one had to experience them alone.
From the start, we've been trying to love, as God does. Without faith, that would seem impossible, but we do believe.
And they do say practice makes perfect.
We're not perfect, all of us here, but we are making progress, and that makes me smile. Without a doubt, we've all grown closer to each other by the grace of God and by patient dedication to His Word each day.
What surprises me most, everyday, is how beautiful every person I meet is, and--even more--how beautiful Jesus Christ is. I think now, at the end, it's easier to see than at first.
That's the beauty of the end though. You get to reap what you've sown.
And, if you're given the wisdom, you can turn an end into a legacy.
We leave for home on the 28th of June. Please pray for our safe travels and the hearts and lives of the people we will leave behind. Thank you so much for all of the prayers and kindness that you've given to me and the rest of the team.
Peace.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Monday, June 15, 2015
The Beginning of the End
The beginning of the end is a time when you start to see things in larger ways than you had ever before. I think we all experience it; we've all realized, at one point or another, that a journey we're on is closer to the finish than it is to the start.
For me, it usually happens with a book or a TV series.
But now, at the start of the fifth week of our six-week trip, the beginning of the end is upon us in a much bigger way than my latest book.
We've had over 100 hours of reading time, close to 20 readers, and quite a bit of time to process it all.
This past week, I talked a lot about the death of Stephan and the conversion of the Ethiopian eunuch because, well, those were the lessons most of my readers were on. It's led to some pretty interesting conversations.
The questions are what I love the most.
I have readers that have asked if Stephan was God like Jesus was. It was a question I don't think I'd ever have gotten the experience of answering if I hadn't come to Japan. That question led us to talk about who God is and why Jesus died and why that sacrifice is powerful enough to be once for all.
Other readers ask about the culture and customs of the Jewish people, and I give illustrated history lessons (that I enjoy immensely).
And with other readers, the questions just flow. We talk about the who, what, when, where, why, and how of baptism, patience, forgiveness, mercy, grace, and countless other things.
With the help of my team mates and a lot of prayer, I've come to realize just how much the Gospel is impacting our readers. Many of them stay longer than an hour and ask deep and searching questions. Some, to be sure, come only to practice their English, but when the seed finds good soil, it shows. Please, pray that I would have the eyes to see it.
For many of my readers, I'm not the one doing the planting--that happened several years ago on another LST project to this same town--I'm watering. I feel so blessed because I get to see buds appear and leaves uncurl from a seed that someone else planted long ago.
But, I also want you to know how hard it is to be a Christian in Japan sometimes for the people that live here. Less than one percent of Japan's population is Christian, but it's easy for that to just be a statistic. What it means is, if you're a Christian in Japan, or you're someone who's heard the Gospel and is starting to really believe, then your friends, your parents and grandparents, your co-workers, and nearly everyone else you meet isn't a Christian. When everyone around you is living indifferently to the most amazing thing in your life, discouraging often doesn't begin to describe the feeling you can get.
Please, pray for the people here, and encourage them in any way you can. They're genuine, beautiful people that want to know God, and we will always be in need of each other's love.
Thank you so much for all of your support!
Peace.
For me, it usually happens with a book or a TV series.
But now, at the start of the fifth week of our six-week trip, the beginning of the end is upon us in a much bigger way than my latest book.
We've had over 100 hours of reading time, close to 20 readers, and quite a bit of time to process it all.
This past week, I talked a lot about the death of Stephan and the conversion of the Ethiopian eunuch because, well, those were the lessons most of my readers were on. It's led to some pretty interesting conversations.
The questions are what I love the most.
I have readers that have asked if Stephan was God like Jesus was. It was a question I don't think I'd ever have gotten the experience of answering if I hadn't come to Japan. That question led us to talk about who God is and why Jesus died and why that sacrifice is powerful enough to be once for all.
Other readers ask about the culture and customs of the Jewish people, and I give illustrated history lessons (that I enjoy immensely).
And with other readers, the questions just flow. We talk about the who, what, when, where, why, and how of baptism, patience, forgiveness, mercy, grace, and countless other things.
With the help of my team mates and a lot of prayer, I've come to realize just how much the Gospel is impacting our readers. Many of them stay longer than an hour and ask deep and searching questions. Some, to be sure, come only to practice their English, but when the seed finds good soil, it shows. Please, pray that I would have the eyes to see it.
For many of my readers, I'm not the one doing the planting--that happened several years ago on another LST project to this same town--I'm watering. I feel so blessed because I get to see buds appear and leaves uncurl from a seed that someone else planted long ago.
But, I also want you to know how hard it is to be a Christian in Japan sometimes for the people that live here. Less than one percent of Japan's population is Christian, but it's easy for that to just be a statistic. What it means is, if you're a Christian in Japan, or you're someone who's heard the Gospel and is starting to really believe, then your friends, your parents and grandparents, your co-workers, and nearly everyone else you meet isn't a Christian. When everyone around you is living indifferently to the most amazing thing in your life, discouraging often doesn't begin to describe the feeling you can get.
Please, pray for the people here, and encourage them in any way you can. They're genuine, beautiful people that want to know God, and we will always be in need of each other's love.
Thank you so much for all of your support!
Peace.
Monday, June 8, 2015
The Middle
Every day, I ride my bike to a small, white building with a small, white sign out front with the words "大井川キリストの教会" (Oigawa Church of Christ) printed on it. There are birds nesting where the north wall meets the roof, and they fly away to a small field/garden as the my tires hit the gravel driveway.
I would say I spend at least 65% of my time (a very conservative guess) in this small white building. It's where I eat, read, have devotionals with my team, write to friends and family, and it's also where I meet with my readers.
Sometimes when I see the church building, this humble house in this humble town, I think of the words "we have this treasure in earthen vessels;" I think of what we do every day--read from the Bible with what is now about 20 different people; I think of what goes on in us and in our readers.
I can't say I know the full impact of what God is doing through us here, but we're often stunned by the depth our conversations reach with people that were strangers only 3 weeks ago. We have readers in Genesis asking the why's and what now's that come along with reading about the creation story and the sin in the garden. We have readers in Acts asking why the Church didn't fight back when they were persecuted so heavily. We have readers in Luke at first confused, and then intrigued by a strange man named Jesus.
The hour that we spend with each reader is always filled with genuine curiosity and questions that come from perspectives we may have never even considered. And to be honest, I often spend much more than the appointed 1 hour talking with readers about God or Christianity or even the troubles in their lives. Here in the middle, 3 weeks in with 3 weeks to go, I can't say that I have everything figured out. But then again, I don't think I could ever say that. I do know that our number of readers STILL continues to climb and doesn't show signs of stopping, and I know that all three of us have become very close to some of our readers as they continue to show a stunning sense of hospitality. I am content. I've been reading Philippians lately, and the part in chapter two about the amazing extent of Christ's humility is one of those descriptions that just gets stuck in my head. And here, in this small church, in this quiet town, it's become easier to hear the gentle breeze of God and the humility that it brings. Please pray that God could use that humility to transform us into vessels perfect not just for holding His treasures, but for pouring them out as well. Also, if you have any questions you want me to address, leave a comment and I'll try to give an answer in the next week's blog! Peace.
I can't say I know the full impact of what God is doing through us here, but we're often stunned by the depth our conversations reach with people that were strangers only 3 weeks ago. We have readers in Genesis asking the why's and what now's that come along with reading about the creation story and the sin in the garden. We have readers in Acts asking why the Church didn't fight back when they were persecuted so heavily. We have readers in Luke at first confused, and then intrigued by a strange man named Jesus.
The hour that we spend with each reader is always filled with genuine curiosity and questions that come from perspectives we may have never even considered. And to be honest, I often spend much more than the appointed 1 hour talking with readers about God or Christianity or even the troubles in their lives. Here in the middle, 3 weeks in with 3 weeks to go, I can't say that I have everything figured out. But then again, I don't think I could ever say that. I do know that our number of readers STILL continues to climb and doesn't show signs of stopping, and I know that all three of us have become very close to some of our readers as they continue to show a stunning sense of hospitality. I am content. I've been reading Philippians lately, and the part in chapter two about the amazing extent of Christ's humility is one of those descriptions that just gets stuck in my head. And here, in this small church, in this quiet town, it's become easier to hear the gentle breeze of God and the humility that it brings. Please pray that God could use that humility to transform us into vessels perfect not just for holding His treasures, but for pouring them out as well. Also, if you have any questions you want me to address, leave a comment and I'll try to give an answer in the next week's blog! Peace.
Monday, June 1, 2015
The End of the Beginning
Nearly three months ago, a man that I'd never met before led a prayer over a group of us that were headed to many different countries for Let's Start Talking projects.
One line from his prayer touched me so deeply that I remember it even after these many weeks. He prayed, "Your love has changed us."
I hear it every now and then from a voice inside my head, "The love of God has changed you." It never comes to my mind as praise, but rather, as encouragement. I hear it most often when I feel that the opposite is quite true instead.
Sometimes, I feel that I've hit a wall, come to a plateau, gotten lost in a doldrum--however you want to say it; I feel like all my effort has gotten me no where. And when you feel like this spiritually, it can be crushing.
Whenever this feeling comes around, I've learned to take my frustration to God in prayer (it's a lesson I often relearn). The conversation usually goes something like this (for the sake of your time, I'll make it a very short summary):
One line from his prayer touched me so deeply that I remember it even after these many weeks. He prayed, "Your love has changed us."
I hear it every now and then from a voice inside my head, "The love of God has changed you." It never comes to my mind as praise, but rather, as encouragement. I hear it most often when I feel that the opposite is quite true instead.
Sometimes, I feel that I've hit a wall, come to a plateau, gotten lost in a doldrum--however you want to say it; I feel like all my effort has gotten me no where. And when you feel like this spiritually, it can be crushing.
Whenever this feeling comes around, I've learned to take my frustration to God in prayer (it's a lesson I often relearn). The conversation usually goes something like this (for the sake of your time, I'll make it a very short summary):
Me: I just feel like I'm so weak and helpless...
A Small Voice: Aren't you, though?
Again and again, I'm taught that God's power is perfected in weakness. It's not realized in my ability to perfect myself (a rather silly notion when I reflect on it), but in my submission to the simple disciplines: Seek God; love others.
When this thought crosses my mind, the words of Paul usually do as well. "I am confident...that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus" (Philippians 1:6). God began this work in me--a humbling realization--and it's He who will perfect it, not me.
I say all of that to say that this week has been a week of God shining through (and in spite of) my weaknesses.
I am an introvert. Long conversations, which I am responsible for maintaining the continuity of, exhaust me.
In fact, even the thought of long conversations, which I am responsible for maintaining the continuity of, exhaust me.
There are times when anxiety and exhaustion build and a devil on my shoulder whispers how much he hopes this next reader won't show so I can get some rest.
Those are my favorite times to pray.
I pray for patience; I pray for kindness; I pray for peace; I pray to be re-centered on the reasons I came here: because I love God and I love these people. Mostly, I pray that I could become less and that He could become more.
He's never disappointed me. Not once.
This past week I've had conversations with readers about the meaning of "spiritual rest," the nature of the Holy Spirit, the differences/similarities between Judaism and Christianity, God's plan and purpose for us, and so much more.
Every time, God has given me the love and joy to teach these things. But it's not just a love and joy that He puts into me; it's a love and joy that He draws out of me. I'm humbled by my weaknesses, but even more so by the Holy Spirit moving in me and speaking through me.
The end of the beginning has come. It's a time when you find your footing in an unfamiliar circumstance. I don't know why I ever lose it when I always find it again in the same place, in the simplicity of devotion to Jesus Christ, the Rock.
Despite my introverted nature, I'm overjoyed to be here and to be able to serve God and talk with people the way that I am; I hope I can encourage you with that. When you let your love for your God and Savior become your focus instead of your weaknesses, you stop trying to fix every thing that may be wrong with you. God can work with that. Let Him perfect you. You keep your focus on Him, not you.
We now have 18 readers with more on the way! The numbers keep rising and so does God's blessing. Our first weekend party was a success with 20+ people in attendance (including readers, their family/friends, and church members). We made cookies, small hamburgers, and we played party games like pictionary and got to know our readers on an even more personal level. We often eat meals with readers and are continually blessed by their generosity.
Please keep praying for us as we also thank God for you in our prayers.
Peace.
Monday, May 25, 2015
The Beginning
Where do I begin?
Currently, I'm sitting in the main room of a building about the size of an average house that serves as the church building with my two other team mates. At the end of today, Bailey, Jon, and I will have been in Japan for nearly one week.
I don't really feel the time though. So much has happened in that one week that you could tell me I've been here for three and I might believe you. Then again, I sat down to write this blog and surprised myself: "Has it really been a week already?" It's fast and it's slow. That's what life is like, I guess.
We touched down safely in Shizuoka, Japan around 6pm on Tuesday (local time). Thank you to everyone who prayed for safe travels. With roughly 20 hours of total flight time, we needed it.
We wouldn't make it to our destination until about 9pm because I had gotten pretty sick on the last plane ride. Some bad food poisoning from the airport in Taipei and the exhaustion from the trip had me spending an hour or so without the strength to stand. I'll spare you the details, but suffice to say, I had enough sickness symptoms to merit the assistance of the quarantine nurse.
She tested my temperature, asked me some questions and watched me for a bit. After a while she declared me okay (at least as far as needing to be quarantined goes).
In the process of my sickness, I'd ruined my favorite tie and a nice pair of khakis (not to mention what I must have smelled like). My own imaginations of a good first impression had dissipated, but the people of Japan were about to make theirs.
I was wheeled around the airport in my wheelchair (that I refused once, then humbly took after stumbling my first two steps) by a kind air hostess from our flight. In fact, I had my own entourage of security guards, flight attendants, and other caring people helping me through customs and even filling out some paperwork for me (as my hands were too shaky to write properly).
Brother Kawasaki and Brother Yoshida were waiting eagerly in the arrivals lobby. One look at Brother Kawasaki (the missionary in Oigawa), and I could tell he was a kind gentle man. He had a quick conversation in Japanese with the hostess pushing my chair while I did my best to catch what they were saying (those two semesters of Japanese have really come in handy).
I was rolled outside into a cool refreshing air. Even in the dark, my first look at Japan was beautiful. Stars faintly lit the sky down to the darker background of mountains in the distance. We got in the car and drove past rice fields and rivers on a gently winding road that most Americans would claim was too small for one car, let alone two.
Sick though I was, I felt loved and welcomed from my first moment in Japan. That fact still holds true a week later.
We spent the next day with Brother Kawasaki. At the beginning of every day, our team leads of with a short time of devotion to God. We'd started this day out of a devotional book that used Luke 21:19, "By your patience possess your souls," as its key verse for the day. We had no idea how much patience we would need that day.
Our goal was simple: Change some money, buy some groceries, and get Bailey a phone card. Complications arose, and hours were added to our outing. We were all still jet lagged (when your night time becomes your day time as quick as ours did, your body doesn't react well) and I was still feeling sick, especially towards the end of the day.
I was glad for the opportunity though. I think the times when we can most show patience are the times when we're able to see and grow the most as well. Patience brings out the best in everyone. It not something a suffer through anymore; it's rather something I enjoy getting the opportunity to exhibit and especially to see in others.
We made it through the day intact, and that evening, we had our information meeting where we met our readers for the first time. At the start, we had 12. In three days of reading, we gained 3 more. I hope the trend continues.
I have 4 readers myself (all assigned to me by the drawing of lots). Their names are Sone, a 68-year-old man who is a Christian and speaks often of his grandchildren; Miyoko, a 42-year-old woman with all the energy and interest of a child; Himeno, a shy, 16-year-old high school student who wants to practice her English before she goes to Canada in August; and Kinuko, whose age we didn't get around to because we spent so much time talking about other things, but she's the sweetest older lady you'll ever meet.
After three days of reading, I can tell I'm going to miss them a lot when I leave. For now, I get to spend nearly everyday talking about what I love the most with my newest friends.
Since Oigawa has been hosting LST missions for around 14 years, we have an interesting mix of readers who have been coming for many years and have a good knowledge of the Gospel and new readers who sometimes have never even heard of Jesus.
Life becomes something else when you speak the Gospel every day. All Satan can do is fill you with anxiety in all the moments before because he knows the moment you start talking with people about the most powerful things in the world--things I've grown up with, things I love--all the joy of the simplicity of devotion to Jesus Christ comes bursting through.
I hope everyone reading this can take that to heart.
I'll be sure to write to you more about my readers next week when I have more stories to share. For now, things are beginning. There's still much more to do, see, say, and hear. Please keep us in your prayers, and thank you for the many that you've said already.
Peace.
Currently, I'm sitting in the main room of a building about the size of an average house that serves as the church building with my two other team mates. At the end of today, Bailey, Jon, and I will have been in Japan for nearly one week.
I don't really feel the time though. So much has happened in that one week that you could tell me I've been here for three and I might believe you. Then again, I sat down to write this blog and surprised myself: "Has it really been a week already?" It's fast and it's slow. That's what life is like, I guess.
We touched down safely in Shizuoka, Japan around 6pm on Tuesday (local time). Thank you to everyone who prayed for safe travels. With roughly 20 hours of total flight time, we needed it.
We wouldn't make it to our destination until about 9pm because I had gotten pretty sick on the last plane ride. Some bad food poisoning from the airport in Taipei and the exhaustion from the trip had me spending an hour or so without the strength to stand. I'll spare you the details, but suffice to say, I had enough sickness symptoms to merit the assistance of the quarantine nurse.
She tested my temperature, asked me some questions and watched me for a bit. After a while she declared me okay (at least as far as needing to be quarantined goes).
In the process of my sickness, I'd ruined my favorite tie and a nice pair of khakis (not to mention what I must have smelled like). My own imaginations of a good first impression had dissipated, but the people of Japan were about to make theirs.
I was wheeled around the airport in my wheelchair (that I refused once, then humbly took after stumbling my first two steps) by a kind air hostess from our flight. In fact, I had my own entourage of security guards, flight attendants, and other caring people helping me through customs and even filling out some paperwork for me (as my hands were too shaky to write properly).
Brother Kawasaki and Brother Yoshida were waiting eagerly in the arrivals lobby. One look at Brother Kawasaki (the missionary in Oigawa), and I could tell he was a kind gentle man. He had a quick conversation in Japanese with the hostess pushing my chair while I did my best to catch what they were saying (those two semesters of Japanese have really come in handy).
I was rolled outside into a cool refreshing air. Even in the dark, my first look at Japan was beautiful. Stars faintly lit the sky down to the darker background of mountains in the distance. We got in the car and drove past rice fields and rivers on a gently winding road that most Americans would claim was too small for one car, let alone two.
Sick though I was, I felt loved and welcomed from my first moment in Japan. That fact still holds true a week later.
We spent the next day with Brother Kawasaki. At the beginning of every day, our team leads of with a short time of devotion to God. We'd started this day out of a devotional book that used Luke 21:19, "By your patience possess your souls," as its key verse for the day. We had no idea how much patience we would need that day.
Our goal was simple: Change some money, buy some groceries, and get Bailey a phone card. Complications arose, and hours were added to our outing. We were all still jet lagged (when your night time becomes your day time as quick as ours did, your body doesn't react well) and I was still feeling sick, especially towards the end of the day.
I was glad for the opportunity though. I think the times when we can most show patience are the times when we're able to see and grow the most as well. Patience brings out the best in everyone. It not something a suffer through anymore; it's rather something I enjoy getting the opportunity to exhibit and especially to see in others.
We made it through the day intact, and that evening, we had our information meeting where we met our readers for the first time. At the start, we had 12. In three days of reading, we gained 3 more. I hope the trend continues.
I have 4 readers myself (all assigned to me by the drawing of lots). Their names are Sone, a 68-year-old man who is a Christian and speaks often of his grandchildren; Miyoko, a 42-year-old woman with all the energy and interest of a child; Himeno, a shy, 16-year-old high school student who wants to practice her English before she goes to Canada in August; and Kinuko, whose age we didn't get around to because we spent so much time talking about other things, but she's the sweetest older lady you'll ever meet.
After three days of reading, I can tell I'm going to miss them a lot when I leave. For now, I get to spend nearly everyday talking about what I love the most with my newest friends.
Since Oigawa has been hosting LST missions for around 14 years, we have an interesting mix of readers who have been coming for many years and have a good knowledge of the Gospel and new readers who sometimes have never even heard of Jesus.
Life becomes something else when you speak the Gospel every day. All Satan can do is fill you with anxiety in all the moments before because he knows the moment you start talking with people about the most powerful things in the world--things I've grown up with, things I love--all the joy of the simplicity of devotion to Jesus Christ comes bursting through.
I hope everyone reading this can take that to heart.
I'll be sure to write to you more about my readers next week when I have more stories to share. For now, things are beginning. There's still much more to do, see, say, and hear. Please keep us in your prayers, and thank you for the many that you've said already.
Peace.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)