Lectures to myself.

I just finished my first week back to work of the new school year.

It's hard to explain how it felt...

Spring break was exactly what I wanted for a break, a chance to calm my heart, be refreshed, and experience peace and joy.

First week of work had me experiencing all the things from the previous year all compressed together.

That's a lot to process.



Over the course of the week, I had many things to learn and experience.  It's good to know that even the teacher is still a student.  ;-)


The first point I pondered was about the meaning of fear.  You know how we are often told in the Bible, "Do not be afraid," and even more confusing "Fear the LORD your God."

As a kid I always wondered about that.  Why should I have to fear God?  Isn't He supposed to be good?  So if I love Him, why should I fear Him?

Out of curiosity I looked up fear in my handy dandy electronic dictionary (a must for living in Japan!).  It was kind of lacking, so I decided to look it up on the internet instead.  Here is what I found:

noun

1. a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid. Synonyms: foreboding, apprehension, consternation, dismay, dread, terror, fright, panic, horror, trepidation, qualm. Antonyms: courage, security, calm, intrepidity.

2. a specific instance of or propensity for such a feeling: an abnormal fear of heights. Synonyms: phobia, aversion; bête noire, bogy, bogey, bugbear. Antonyms: liking, fondness, penchant, predilection.

3. concern or anxiety; solicitude: a fear for someone's safety.

4. reverential awe, especially toward God: the fear of God. Synonyms: awe, respect, reverence, veneration.

5. something that causes feelings of dread or apprehension; something a person is afraid of: Cancer is a common fear.

verb (used with object)

7. to regard with fear; be afraid of. Synonyms: apprehend, dread.

8. to have reverential awe of. Synonyms: revere, venerate, honor.

9. to consider or anticipate (something unpleasant) with a feeling of dread or alarm: It's about to snow again, I fear.

10. Archaic . to experience fear in (oneself): I fear me he will ne'er forgive us.

verb (used without object)

11. to have fear; be afraid: I'll go with you, so do not fear!

12. to feel apprehensive or uneasy (usually followed by for ): In this time of economic instability, I fear for my children's future.

Idioms

13. for fear of / that, in order to prevent or avoid the risk of: She is afraid to say anything for fear of the consequences.

14. put the fear of God in / into, to cause to be greatly afraid.

 

“What we, following the Scriptures, call the fear of God, is not terror or dread, but an awe that holds God in reverence.”
—Martin Luther, The communion of the Christian with God: Described on the basis of Luther's statements, by Wilhelm Herrmann, transl. by J. Sandys Stanyon, revised by R. W. Stewart (1906)

 (It even came with citations!  cool!)

I had been told before that it does mean honor, but even though I know this, it still didn't always make sense.

But thing I was thinking this week...

I'm not really someone who fears many things.  Sure I get a scare when I'm in a dangerous situation.  I mean, I react if there was a near miss with a car.  I'm not a big fan of cockroaches and I have a nagging fear of being single forever.  But a lot of the things that other people are afraid of, I'm not.  Well, physical things.  More than the fear of being single forever is possibly my fear of intimacy.  Fear of relationships.  Fear of not being good enough.  Fear of failure.  These kinds of fears I have in spades.  And they haunt me.  Oh how they haunt me.

And somewhere in the midst of thinking about my fears, I realized something...  When you fear something, you give it power over you.  You have given it the power to change, shape and sometimes even define your life.  The more you fear something, the more power it has over you.  This seems to me to be the conjoined twin of idolatry.  Fear gives power.

Actually, when you think about it, it's not so much of a surprise.  I mean look how often it shows up in the epic stories.  The hero must always battle fear before he/she can prevail.

So fear is the second cousin of idolatry.  This could be a good reason why God kept telling us not to do it.

But as I was thinking about it more, it dawned on me...  Fear is not just an emotion that we have to battle with:  it's at the core of our sin!

If, when we fear something, we give it power over us, we have not honored God.  In fact, we are not trusting God.  Remember: fear means that we are anticipating something bad.  So we give power to something else, because we doubt that God a) is strong enough to save us, b) is good enough to save us or c) cares enough to save us.

We don't trust God.

So we fear.

Isn't this the first sin?  Eve doubts God's goodness.  She thinks that God might be holding out on her.  When confronted with doubt, Eve gives fear power, and in her fear that God was keeping something from her, she took it herself.  Her sin was not eating the fruit that God told her not to (yes the action is also sin, but I'm talking about the heart of things.)  Her sin was not trusting God.

And this is the legacy left to us.

Our world has been invaded by fear.

When I fear that I will never get married, I accuse God of holding out on me.  I don't trust His love for me and His words that everything is for my good.  I accept that "my good" does not always equal my happiness.  I am not trusting God with my life.

When I fear to love people, when I fear that they will hurt me, I am not trusting God to validate me, to comfort me and that His love will sustain me.  I have given others the power over my happiness and sense of worth.

When I fear I will fail, I am not trusting that God can redeem all things and work through them for my good and the good of others.  I have given myself the power over my destiny and the responsibility.  I no longer look to God as my King and ruler, but as a judge on the sidelines with the power to raise or lower my score according to my performance.

When I fear pain, I allow it to rule me.

When I fear loneliness, I allow my actions to be dictated.

When I fear taking chances, I demonstrate that I do not trust God with my future.

When I fear, my heart builds up walls to lock myself up behind.

Fear is a prison.






So I guess the lesson I learned was:  Fear gives power to the object of fear.  It is almost the same as idolatry.  So the only thing I should fear, should be God.  God should be the sole object of my fear because fear is a form of respect or acknowledgement.

So now, for me, I can see that my fear is my sin.  Giving up fear frees me to love and live life in true freedom.  Perhaps this is the "life to the full" that Jesus promised, that has ever eluded me.  I have held too much fear in my heart to allow life in.

So for now, I would like to calm my heart and mind, and stop expecting or giving power to the bad things and bad possibilities in life.  If I trust God, mountains can be moved.  God is more powerful than all these things.  And God loves me.  So me cowering in fear is just stupid and stubborn.

The Power of Jesus to Transform our Hearts

 Let's return to the place we left off, in a world without Jesus and the sorrow and confusion and desolation of the disciples (and others who loved Jesus.)

It's been Friday night, and all of Saturday.  Now it's Sunday.  How soon does the numbness wear off I wonder?  Are they able to eat yet?  Are they arguing about what to do next?  Go back to their respective homes?  Forget these past 3 years?  Have they started looking forward to a life without Jesus?

I'm sure their hearts are still heavy, still seeped in the deep sorrow of loss.


And then there is a loud commotion outside their locked room.

A hysterical woman. 

She's claiming to have seen Jesus!  That he's alive!  Your heart soars for a second and you can hardly hear anything over the beating of your own heart.  Can it be true???  But wait.  You watched him die.  Your heart plummets.  Be careful, your heart warns you.  Don't get your hopes up.  You agree, you have already been crushed once.  Someone please take that woman away.  Doesn't she know how much it hurts???

But.....


Something inside won't be still.  Something deep in your heart has been brought to life by this idea.  Jesus... Alive...  Is it possible????  He did raise people from the dead....  He did say he was the son of God....  Maybe......

The pounding of your heart nearly drowns out everything else.

You have lost all "common sense."  And suddenly you are running out the door, the chance that it is true is just too much to take.


You run with all your might, not caring at the people who are staring at you.  You run until your lungs start to burn and your muscles feel like they will turn to water.  Now you regret not eating anything for the past day.  But you find the strength somewhere and keep pushing forward.

And finally you see it!  The place were Jesus was entombed.  And it's open, just as the woman said.  And a man in shining clothing...  Jesus is no where to be found!  It's true!

But where is Jesus???  Why can't I see him?  Why didn't he wait for me?  But he is alive.

You wait to catch your breath, and return back to the room to tell the others.  It's true.  Jesus was not in the tomb.  But where is he?  What does it all mean?  Who cares?  Jesus is alive!!!

Suddenly your heart is alive as well.  In that short time, everything is different.  Jesus has transformed your heart again.  You have known true sorrow and loss.  And now you have known true joy and restoration.

Then it comes.  You are in the room, talking of nothing else but Jesus, when suddenly he appears!  It's like a dream.  The door was locked, and suddenly he is there!  Before you know it, tears are on your face.  He's alive!  He's alive!  He really is alive!  All you want to do is run and cling to him and never let go.

Jesus is alive!!!




This Easter, in the routine of the holiday, in the dressing up, and hunting of eggs and the eating and the stress...

Remember...

It's not just about celebrating externally.  This Jesus has the power to transform our hearts, and give us true Joy.  Try opening your heart to let the emotions and the experience of Jesus in.

And pray for those who are still living in the darkness.  Pray for Japan, that the people here may one day also experience the joy of a living Jesus who appears behind the locked doors of their hearts.  I pray that Japan may one day be a country full of empty tombs!

Life without Jesus...

 I'm not much of a holiday person since becoming older.  So it's hard for me to get all worked up for holidays like some of the people I know.  But sometimes...  I think about them.

This year is the first time in a while I have been off for Holy Week and Good Friday.

It doesn't really feel like Holy Week or anything, so it's hard to get into the spirit of things.

But today I had some time to myself that allowed me to meditate a bit on Good Friday.
 I was thinking, have you ever put yourself in the disciples' shoes?  Imagine for a second what it must have been like...

First you run across this man who completely changes your life.  He's amazing.  He says things you have never heard before.  He does things that should be impossible.  And he draws you to him with a force you don't understand.  He inspires you.  This is a man you would leave your job for.  Heck, you'll take an "extended vacation" from even your family just for the chance to travel with him.  He's that amazing.

Since living in Japan, I've learned what it means to be a fan.  A real fan.  I had students who would travel all over the country to go to every single concert of the band they liked.  They spend insane amounts of money, time and energy on whatever it is they are a fan of.

At one time I would have thought they were crazy.  But I'm learning more and more what this looks like.  After all, I follow my own little band now.  And they have invaded my life, and changed it.  If they suddenly weren't here anymore, I can only imagine how empty my life would become.

And so I look at my own small obsession, and think about "What would happen if you were that obsessed with Jesus?"  And I think...  "I would probably look a lot like the disciples."

They followed Jesus for 3 years.  (This was back when "following" someone involved more than just a click on the internet.  "Following" someone meant action and consequences.) They ate with him, traveled with him, listened to him, lived with him...

That's devotion.

They threw in everything to be with Jesus.  This man was their hope, their purpose, their "Messiah."







And then he died.








I've never had someone close to my heart die.  Perhaps I don't allow enough people close to my heart.  So I can't really understand this fully.  The best I can do is imagine what that must have been like....

Jesus.  The man I left my home for. The man I've been following.  I believed him.  He said he was the son of God.  He was supposed to save us.  He was supposed to change the world.  So...  Why?  Why did this happen?  I can't believe he is gone...  I can't believe this happened.  Why???  Why???  What do I do now?  Where do I go?  How can it just end like this?  It's all over...  I don't know what to do anymore.....



At some point, I'm sure your mind just shuts down.  You can't eat.  You can't sleep.  You can't think.  You are too stunned even for tears to flow.  The muscles in your body can't seem to hold you upright anymore.

Everything is gone.

Just like that.

One minute we are celebrating the passover.  We were laughing and having a good time.


Now we are in the same room...  lifeless.  hopeless.  Jesus-less....





I can't claim to love Jesus with the same love that the disciples must have had.  I can't claim to understand what it must have been like to know him in person.  And I can't even begin to understand what it was like to loose Jesus, to watch him die, to spend a day without him here in this world.


But even with my limited imagination...  I can feel the hollowness.  The emptiness.  The fear.  The feeling of abandonment.


From the hour of Jesus' death, to the morning of his resurrection, how did the disciples live without Jesus???

I doubt they did.  They locked themselves and their hearts in the upper room, too shell shocked to do anything else.  A loss that great, you can even begin to rationalize it yet.


So empty...



As I was thinking about all this, I thought about those I love, the people I know, and the country I love, all who don't know Jesus.  They live their lives everyday without Jesus.

I can't understand it at all.  Just imagining a life without Jesus paralyzes me.  It's too much of a shock.  I'm not strong enough to go through this world without Jesus.

And my heart breaks for those who do.  Japan has the highest suicide rate in the world.  Is it any wonder?  They work long hours under obligation, and their free hours are spend sleeping, eating, and chasing after anything that might fill their empty hearts: shopping, drinking, hobbies or even their favorite "celebrity."  But they are tired.  And they are numb to the emptiness inside of them.  If they stop for even a minute, the hollowness might consume them.

Japan is stuck in the twilight after Good Friday.  In a world without Jesus.



If my heart breaks this much when looking at the people here, how much more must Jesus' heart break for them?




The disciples suffered Friday night and Saturday with no Jesus.  But Sunday morning brought unbelievable news and joy.  Jesus was alive!  The impossible had happened!  Their joy must have been in proportion to their sorrow.  What a roller coaster of emotions they must have had!  The shock of loosing Jesus must have been enormous.  The joy of getting him back must have been indescribable. 


So I thank Jesus that he came back, and that I have never known a world without him in it.

And I pray that those I love will one day experience a Life With Jesus that will fill their hearts and heal their souls.


(If you are wondering about the pictures, they are of a building in Fukushima City that was damaged in the Earthquake {I'm assuming}.  I visited some friends who live in Fukushima last week.  The pictures seemed to capture the emptiness of life without Jesus, the brokenness of life without hope, the sadness of structure with no life.)

The power of choice

An important friend of mine came to visit last night.  It was a wonderful, refreshing visit.  We had good conversations, and I was blessed by her honesty and vulnerability.

And we sharpened each other.

As I was walking back from taking her to the train station, I was thinking back on our conversations, and all the things I had realized about myself.  Yes, I have a gift for speaking clear, sharp Truth.  But sometimes (make that oftentimes) I just have a sharp tongue that I have been waving around carelessly and pridefully.  I have injured people very dear to me many times by the sharpness of a tongue that is not discerning.

I realized the self-righteous pride that fills me.  I react to people in irritation or disdain instead of love and mercy.  And I learned what it feels like to be on the opposite end of that, and still love and reach out to the person who very clearly disdains you.

A few years ago, at a gathering of our "sisterhood in arms" forged in Japan were we asked the question "What do you want to get out of this time together."  (We are very intentional in our time together.)  My answer was, "I want to see myself reflected in your eyes."  I had been away from these women for so long, I longed to see who I was in relation to them.  I guess what I really wanted to see was the affirmation of love from them, that I was a person who was chosen and loved by these women I respected and loved.  Only, you really do have to be careful what you wish for.  Because I was shown myself reflected in their eyes.  And it almost shattered me at the time, the shock was so great.  Because true reflections of ourselves are often ugly and deformed.  We find our sin staring back at us.  At least that is the reflections we will find on earth. 

I realized later that what I should have desired was to see myself reflected in God's eyes.  God's eyes, while truthful and showing us the severity of our sin, are also merciful and hopeful, showing us the beauty that is still within, and the beauty that should be.  They are overlapping.  Because God loves us for who we are now, sin and deformity and all.  And God loves us, and longs for us, for the people we will become or were intended to become.

So the last time I was confronted with my reflection in the eyes of those close to me, it nearly tore me apart, because I wasn't expecting it.  Or rather, I was expecting something totally opposite.  I shut down and couldn't bear the truth of my sins.

It was a painful time for us all.

This time was different.   So while I was walking home and reflecting on all that was said, I thanked God that he was rebuking me so gently this time.  There were no deep gaping wounds, no tears, no pain.  Just acceptance.  So I joking commented to God that He must be babying me lately.

And the reply I heard was:
"It's not babying.  This is what happens when you choose to have a teachable spirit."

Brilliant.

I thought about that, and it makes a lot of sense.  I mean, imagine trying to teach a young child to do something correctly.  Rebuking toddlers can be challenging.  Many hate being told no, or being told how to do something only one way.  They want to do it their way.  And if you interfere, there will be screaming and throwing of feet.  (much akin to weeping and gnashing of teeth.)  The child hates it, you hate it, the people around you hate it.  It's miserable.  Because the child refuses correction.  But some children have teachable spirits.  You correct them once, and they accept it.  You smile, the child does not feel condemned or unloved, and you praise the child for correcting their behavior so quickly.  Simple, painless, joyful.  It's wonderful to teach children with teachable spirits.

And it reminds me that it all comes down to how we choose to accept rebuke and correction.  We can scream and gnash our teeth, and it will be painful, and not just to us.  Or we can calmly and quickly accept our correction, and it is simple and joyful even.

And I promise, it is a choice.  It is a choice I did not make cognitively, but for me it was a process of events that helped me mature to a point where I could allow my spirit to be teachable.  But now that I know that's what it is, I can choose it on purpose in the future.  When faced with rebuke, I can choose to accept it calmly and with grace.  It's my choice.

Choice is a powerful thing, is it not?

But I still think that God is "babying" me lately.  ;-)

Cliche, but true

"Tis better to give than to receive."

Yep, it's an instant eye roller. Anytime someone quotes it, you feel like you've been there, done that, rolled around in it's hollow hypocrisy and then crumpled it up and threw it away.

Well, maybe that's just me.

I tend to dislike the commonly quoted "feel better" quips. They feel so hollow and dishonest.

But they are quoted for good reason. Many of them are true. I just hate hearing them in most situations. But of course, it's perfectly fine for ME to quote them when they suit my purpose. (yep, no trace of a double standard here.)

In any case, this is the "new" revelation of the weekend.

This week we had a Valentine's chocolate making event at church. Little kids decorated chocolate filled cups, and older kids and adults learned how to make an AWESOME truffle recipe. (And when I mean awesome, I mean insane-blow -your -socks- away,- can't -stop- eating -til -they're- gone awesome. And I'm not that huge of a chocolate fan. Huge yes, chocolate fan, no.) We had an insane number of participants. (someone commented that we had more people come for the chocolate than came for church...) But it all went rather smoothly. (Thankfully I become "Super-Event-Coordinator-Amber" when there are tons of people and little details to cover. Also thankfully I had a small army of volunteers who had no idea what was going on, but did their best to follow my spastic direction giving.)

So this had me thinking about Valentine's Day. (well, I had to give a message, so I have to think about it. ;-) )

I remember in America, I hated Valentine's Day. I'm not sure hate is a strong enough word. Loathed, dreaded, hoped, cursed... (descriptive verbs are fun.) Why would I do such a thing? What did the poor innocent holiday do to deserve such wrath?

Oh so glad you asked.

You see... I of course had no boyfriend. (I'm sure you are shocked. I was also shocked at each passing year of singleness.)

Recently, it feels like America is a culture of entitlement and receiving. I am a woman. Therefore I deserved to be romanced. I want to receive someone's love and attention (preferably tall and handsome with a great smile and good sense of humor). Oh and don't forget the presents. Presents are good. I'll even take a box of chocolates, even though I don't really like them all that much. (It's the thought that counts you know. ;-) Or maybe just the act of getting a present.) Oh yes. Gimme gimme gimme.

(Hmmm, when kids do this to me, I have the greatest urge to not give them whatever it is they are so strongly demanding. And then tease them with it. .... hmmm.... maybe I shouldn't be teaching kids...)

I hated Valentine's Day because I was so caught up in myself (and what I wasn't getting) that I couldn't see anything else.

Then I moved to Japan.

In Japan the tradition is for women to give men chocolates. (and there is a whole system of obligation in place to re-enforce it. Japan is a marketers dreamland.) This of course was shocking, because of course women are supposed to GET chocolate. Right?

Second shock was the discovery that women often HANDMADE chocolate to give to special people. Heck I didn't even know you could make chocolate at home. (Actually at the time I was confused, because I thought they were making chocolate from complete scratch, you know from the cocoa bean stage. I was really impressed that people went that far. Then I found out it was just using chocolate to make chocolate desserts.)

So for several years I was happy to be a foreigner outside this insane system of obligation, and outside of America where I wasn't bombarded with the need to "get."

Then I started making friends and building relationships. And suddenly for the first time, I WANTED to make a whole bunch of chocolate to give to people important to me. This was a huge revelation for me.

Fast forward a couple of years and lets do a quick topic change.

Fall and winter is Birthday season in the Band. First we have October, followed by December and then February comes too soon after. Since the band members are all important to me, I spend lots of time and energy thinking about what to give them. And after the first few years of being asked hopefully "Is this homemade?" I got the hint that homemade gifts are treasured, and started hand making gifts every year. (good thing I like crafts)

Every birthday we also have a party with all the fans. There's a cake that we all eat together, we sing and then give presents to the birthday boy. Everyone really gets into it. Usually the cakes were bought, but this year, both the October birthday and the December birthday got homemade cakes. Wow.

There is one Birthday left, so it would be sad if he didn't get a homemade cake for his birthday. So I decided that I would make one for him. (It's not obvious at all who my favorite is... nope, not at all.)

So I asked my mom to send me a couple of boxes of my favorite cake mix and some frosting. The Birthday boy in question likes "American taste" so I figured this would be a fun treat for everyone. (My favorite mix is Spice Cake by Duncan Hines I believe.) This is my first time baking a cake in Japan, so I was a little worried if I would be able to get it right. So I wanted to practice a bit before hand. Then I was worried I wouldn't have enough cake to practice with, so I asked my roommate to get a couple more boxes when she went back to America. She also got me a stash of pecans (hard to find here!).

So I started my baking adventure. (enjoyed by my students and my roommate, who got to help me eat the end results.) After two practice cakes (spread out over several weeks) I finally figured out how the cake was supposed to be done. And yesterday was the big day. I woke up, baked all day, decorated and went to the live concert where we could celebrate.

And I have to say. Giving that cake, having the person in question enjoy the cake, and having people I care about sharing the cake together... Yeah. That's when it sinks in. It really is better to give than to receive.

I have more fun every year on his birthday, when I am working hard to make a special day for someone, than on my own birthday, when I want the day to be special for me. (I want others to make it special for me.)



Today our Bible verse for our event was the famous "Love God with all your heart and all your soul and all your mind and all your strength." And "Love your neighbor as yourself."

You think it's about obligation, or that it's difficult to do. And sometimes it is. But sometimes, it's the best thing in the world to be able to love your neighbors, and putting all of your effort into it.



And so today, I was still basking in the warm fuzzy feelings from yesterday. But then during worship it struck me. I worked so hard to make that cake (and present) for someone special to me. But that is a person. When was the last time I worked that hard to do something for God???

That was a question that stopped me in my tracks. And suddenly I really wanted to bake a cake for God. Well, when I think about that, I'm not sure how that would work. What would I do with it? Giving it to someone else seems wrong, and just throwing it away seems wasteful. So maybe a cake is not the way to go. But. I really would like to be able to love God so much to devote that much time and energy into making something just to give to God.

I'll be thinking on this.

For now, I'm enjoying the afterglow of giving. :-D
(Here is the cake made of awesomeness. I was told it looked very American. I was also told it looked very "Amber-like." I guess everything I do comes out looking "Amber-ish")

And the birthday boy while we sing "Happy Birthday" to him.

Heart-Stones

"Be careful, however, that the exercise of your freedom does not become a stumbling block to the weak." - 1 Cor 8:9

At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, "Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now, what do you say?" They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him. But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, "If anyone of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.

At this, those who heard began to go away, one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. Jesus straightened up and asked her, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"

"No one, sir," she said.

"Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus declared. "Go now and leave your life of sin."

John 8:2-11

When I was a child, I learned the lesson "We do not throw rocks." This is an important lesson when one has a little brother (who you often fight with) and when every inch of West Texas is covered in potential ammunition. Rocks are dangerous. Never throw rocks, especially at other people.

Yet for some reason, I really liked rocks. I liked to search for pretty rocks and sometimes I would keep them. Sometimes I liked rocks for their shape or color, but sometimes I liked the rocks for their weight. A nice smooth rock, with a nice weight to it: just perfect for throwing. I liked to hold rocks like that, just feeling the weight in my palm, bouncing it a few times, testing it. Such a satisfying feeling, carrying that rock. A feeling of power and confidence. Imagining that rock flying, the feeling as it leaves my hand, and the ever so satisfying "thud" as it lands. Indeed, some rocks seem made for throwing.

But throwing rocks wasn't allowed, so I often just carried them around, feeling the weight and thinking about throwing.

Even now, as an adult, I still like rocks. I like the texture and shape of rocks and things built with rocks. When I take pictures, they are usually of flowers or rocks. Great joy is found when I can take pictures of both!

Unfortunately, I noticed something else this week. I like stones as well. Not stones as in the physical, synonym to rocks kind, but as in the "let he who has no sin..." kind. (see above Bible passage) The judgments, condemnations, jealousy against others, the desire to somehow punish the other person for living in a way I don't approve of. Petty, judgmental stones of condemnation.

Oh yes, I like these. I have quite the collection. I gather them up and look at them with pride, self-righteousness and the knowledge that I am "right" in my views. But somehow I've intuitively remembered that long ago rule "we do not throw rocks." given to me as a child. So I rarely throw these stones at the person in question. Sometimes I throw them in a tirade of self-righteous opinionating, but they are pretty heavy and don't go too far. So after I've had my bout of complaining and feel satisfied with the many "thuds" of my stones, I bend down and gather them all up again. After all, they are too nice to waste. I might want to use them again.

So I walk around in daily life with my heart full of stones I don't want to put down. And I wonder why I feel so heavy inside. Why is love so elusive?

....

.........

.....

This week, while I was examining some of my precious stones I was struck with a gentle rebuke from a trusted friend (who also happens to be my roommate, which gives her better opportunities for such things as encouraging and rebuking.) The stone in my hand suddenly falls to the ground with a resounding "thud." But this time it is not the thud of satisfaction, it is instead a thud of shock and shame.

Reality comes pouring in. The Voices of Reproach stumble over each other in their eagerness to make their accusations heard.

"What have I been doing all this time? Why in the world have I been carrying around such STUPID things?!? Who do I think I am, judging people as if I were better than them?!?! How arrogant can you get?"

(yes, the Voices of Reproach tend to lean on the dramatic side... They can also be called Drama Queens.)


Suddenly I can understand the people in John 8 a little better now. I wonder how many of those men walked away in anger, frustrated because they weren't able to throw their beloved stone? How many took their stones home and buried them in their hearts? How many heard Jesus' words, really heard them, and put down their stones right then and there, leaving them behind and embracing repentance?

The hearts of those men are only known to God, but the stone free heart of Jesus has been made open to us.

If only we would notice.


I'm thankful for a roommate who can challenge me with questions like "Why is it your responsibility to judge or punish that person for their lifestyle choices? What right do you have to do that?" I'm thankful for accountability in a world where conservative Christianity is associated with hate, judgment and unforgiveness. I'm thankful for a Jesus who says "then neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin."

And I'm thankful to be burdened with one less stone in my heart today.


In the Old Testament, back in the days of Abraham, Issac and Jacob, altars were made with natural, uncut stones. You gathered up a bunch of big ones, then made a big pile that was flat on top. Then you offered your sacrifice upon it.

I think I'd like to make an altar of the accumulated stones in my heart, and then use it to sacrifice my pride and self-righteousness that I have been holding so dear.

Maybe that would help me not pick them back up again.


Here's to a future of putting down stones and building altars instead of carrying them around.

Prayers for us porcupines

I just finished a long overdue conversation with a dear friend. She is the only person who I have really known and connected with my entire time in Japan. We started out on AIM chat before I came to Japan, and we have seen many different aspects of our relationship. She has seen and shared almost all my struggles in Japan. It's easy to take people for granted and forget how important they should be to you. And I'm thankful that tonight I remembered that she is one of my "important people."

In the course of our conversation, I was struck again at our condition. I have a group of very dear friends here in Japan. We are all battle scarred by our time here. We have struggled and fought and gotten lost together. We get confused, and go off track together. And we laugh and cry and fall down together. And many times we do the same things apart. Half the time we aren't sure if we even like each other. But we always, always come back to each other. We are spiritual sisters, tied with bonds of love and grace and faith and pain that probably couldn't be cut even if we tried.

We love God, we love Japan, and we love each other. We often don't know how to express our love, and sometimes we allow it to get warped, but we do love.

It's good to remember sometimes.



But in all of this, we all struggle with our human condition. We each have our own personal struggles, the pitfalls unique to each of us. We are each attacked at the very core of who we are with deadly precision by our common Enemy, who wants nothing more than to tear us down, demean us and render us in-effective. We each have our Arrows, designed to wound us so we are unable to Live.

As we are struggling with our own Arrows, it's easy to forget that the ones we love also have Arrows of their own. I know I forget all the time. I assume I'm the only one who doesn't have my act together, I'm the only one who falls down like this and I'm the only one with this pain inside that I can't get rid of. And so I get frustrated when my community isn't there to help me, or doesn't have the answers or can't support me. It's easy for me to think "forget it." and cut off my lines of communication. Or question whether I'm actually part of the "group" or not. I devalue myself, and my sisters. And the Enemy smiles in triumph.

But tonight I have been graced with a small window of clarity. A vision of our reality.

I see a battlefield, and my and my sisters are on it. It's the aftermath of a battle. We have survived, but not without wounds. In fact, we all look like porcupines, we have Arrows sticking out of us in many directions. A couple of us are walking, holding on to someone who can support us just a little. A couple of us are down on our knees, unable to move because of the wounds we can't reach ourselves. And we are all unable to really help each other. Any attempt we could make to remove each others Arrows would only end in the Arrow being moved around and causing a greater wound. Those on the ground can see those walking, and feel the jealousy or feelings of betrayal. "Why can you walk? Why can't you help me? What did I do to deserve this?" Those walking can see those on the ground and feel fear and frustration and hurt. "There's nothing I can do for you. Why can't I help you? I'm barely standing. Why can't you see that I'm injured too? What do I do when I can walk but you can't?" Only none of us realize that our vision is clouded, or even if we do, we can't change our feelings.

It's frustrating. It's painful. It's full of questions we don't have answers to. We all scream out at one point or another "Why God?"

And in the midst of this vision, I see a prayer for my sisters and I (and for others who live in the same reality.) I see the gentle figure of Jesus, walking among us. And He stops beside each of us, and places His hands gently upon our heads. And He offers us healing, and helps us to stand. Beside Him is the Spirit, who has come with new armor (to replace our battered ones, or to give us new were we had none at all.) Our tears flow again, but this time with joy. Our wounds have been addressed, and we have been filled with life. And being filled with Life, we can become Life givers to those around us. Restored, we can finally be who we were meant to be. Instead of porcupine pin-cushions, we are realized as Brides of Christ. And we can embrace each other fully and joyfully for the first time, because there are no longer Arrows in the way. This is Life. This is my prayer.


I debated a bit if I should post this or not. This is a deeply personal image, not only for me, but for my sisters, who I know will read this. And careless words can wound deeper.

But this is a needed prayer. We need healing. We need deeply personal images. We need hope.

So in hope I will post this, more vulnerable than usual. And in hope I will pray, that someday this vision will become reality. I pray for the healing of my sisters. I pray for the future of Japan. I pray for our wounded hearts desperately seeking life to the fullest.

I pray from my heart, for the first time in a long time. I pray with passion for those I love. I pray to hear the voice of Jesus asking "What is it you want? Do you wish to be healed?" And I pray for a season of Joy to refresh us all and the arm of Blessing stretched out over us, for we too are children of Abraham.

And today I rejoice, because today I have a prayer to pray and a God who hears.


And I Remember that I have already been blessed, with such beautiful sisters, whom I love.

Conveying Love

Happy New Year!

Usually my New Year's is busy, full of meeting people and doing things. This year I welcomed the new year alone for the first time, maybe ever.

I actually had a good mix of being able to go out and see many people, do karaoke, and feel blessed by the people who wanted to be with me. Then I had about 5 days or so where I was completely alone, not bothering to leave the house except to get food. (being completely alone reverts me back to my "original state" of complete sloth and messiness. I accomplish far less when I have infinite free time than when I am busy and stressed. But it was nice to be able to do nothing for a while. I am however tired of it now.)

With so much free time on my hands, I did what any lazy, unmotivated person would do: caught up on watching my anime. :-D (Japanese study???)

The course of the week showed me how terrible some anime are out there, that 90% of anime seems to be school dramas, unrealistic and after a while, boring and tedious to watch. But then again, anime is a medium and not a genre, so I could say similar things about American TV and movies (except America isn't quite so obsessed with High School.) I spent quite a lot of time trying to find a new anime to watch that wasn't about boobs, harems or just plain violence. I did find a few. ;-)

The best one so far has been "Kimi ni Todoke." (I would also credit a blog commenter of mine for mentioning this on her blog, I read the manga and loved it.) This is a bit of a difficult title to translate. I've seen "Reaching You" or even "From Me to You."

The whole point of this story is about trying to convey your feelings to another person. It's a very sweet, innocent love story. The great thing about this story is that I find myself grinning like an idiot every time I read/watch it. It's deep, but not too deep, funny, sad, real, but fairytail-like in it's simple innocence. It has all the great elements that make "Cinderella" such a compelling story.

It's a classic, out-cast girl meets popular boy story. The boy, who has the greatest smile ever, is popular with everyone. He doesn't judge people based on their looks, or status. He accepts them for who they are. And he's known for the fact that he cares about the weak, or the downtrodden. He goes out of his way to include everyone.

Then we have the girl. She is easily misunderstood. She looks like the really creepy character from the movie "The Ring." She has poor social skills, because no one will talk to her. Yet, she is actually a very sweet girl, who only wants to help people. She is so innocent, that she never even resents the fact that people don't speak to her, or seem afraid of her. She merely accepts it as normal, and does her best to not upset people. (Only she is rather lacking in social skills and is rather shy, which just makes her seem more scary to the kids around her.)

They meet on the way to school on the first day. The boy is a little lost, so the girl points out the correct path. The boy, smiles naturally and says "Thank You." The girl is surprised because this is the first time someone has actually thanked her for trying to help. The usual reaction is fear and an apology. Her usually tense, scary looking face, relaxes for a moment, and she smiles a true smile.

The boy becomes intrigued by this quiet girl. At school she is nervous and unable to communicate well with her classmates. There are many rumors of how she can see ghosts and curses people around her. She is difficult to approach, and everyone just assumes she wants to be left alone. The boy also begins to come to the conclusion that she doesn't like him, because she is always so stiff and runs away from him when he tries to talk to her or include her.

But really, she just doesn't know how to convey herself to those around her.

Eventually, they both learn how to communicate. The boy learns how to think about the other person and their feelings, instead of just his own. He learns how to face his own jealousy and possessiveness and tries his best to deal with the frustrations of loving a very dense girl.

The girl learns that it is not "natural" for her to be alone. She is not worth less than other people, and she should have more confidence in herself. If she tries, she finds she is able to communicate with others, and they can understand her. She finds friends and learns how to become open to the world around her. She learns about joy and love and friendship. And finally, she learns how to accept love from others, something she always believed was never possible for someone like herself.

Both of them liked each other the whole time, but because they couldn't communicate so that the other could understand, there were many misunderstandings and frustrations.

It's such a good story, with so many things to think about. Like why we try to confess our feelings. Are we trying to manipulate the person into loving us back? Or do we just want to be understood. Why don't we confess our feelings? Are we afraid of being rejected, embarrassed, or feel like we don't deserved to be loved and we have no chance, so what's the point? How often do we think of the other person's feelings or circumstances? I mean REALLY think about them? Do we just assume things and never think past them? "Of course he can't like someone like me. So what's the point?" "I'm the only one that's suited for that person." etc. How often do we really allow the other person to choose for themselves? If we don't convey our feelings how can they choose? If we only assume things for that person, is anything really accomplished?


They are all really good questions for me. I struggle a lot with how to communicate. I don't want to become a nuisance to others. Or rather, I don't want them to think of me badly, or irritate them. I often feel like my affections would be unwanted or out of place. I don't want to "overstep my station" or become too arrogant. So I hide in false humility, devaluing myself in fear or uncertainty.

When I was young, in school, I often heard that boys liked it when girls confessed to them. So, being the slightly oblivious child I was, I confessed several times to boys I liked. This of course resulted in rather uncomfortable situations, where the boy was embarrassed that someone like me confessed. I fortunately have good taste in boys, so none of them were mean to me, but none of them wanted to go out with me either. The boys probably didn't know what to do, and I put them in an awkward position. Eventually I learned that confessing just made things awkward. (I was a bit slow, it took me a while.)

But in the story, at one point the popular boy is confessed to, and he gently tries to reject the girl (since he likes a different girl). The girl knew she was going to be rejected, but still wanted him to know her feelings. In the end, through her tears, she asks, "Were you even a little happy when I confessed to you?" And he says, "Yes, it made me happy. Thank you."

This was a new idea for me. Before whenever I thought back to my past and how I just confessed obliviously, I became very embarrassed for being such a clueless dork. I assumed that I only created an awkward situation, and the boy was just troubled. Of course having me confess didn't make him happy at all. But when you think about it... Even when someone you don't have romantic feelings for, confesses to you, you feel a little happy, don't you? Somewhere you get a little puffed up from knowing you are loved, even if you don't return the love, and it makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

I hope the boys in my past felt that way, if only a little.


Looking back at things now, I can see a little more clearly. Before, I thought that my confessing was stupid, because I was stepping outside of my appointed station. I was an outcast, in the lower social rankings, so all the boys I liked were outside of my range. Of course I had no chance. That's why it was silly for me to confess. Until recently, this is what I believed, and it is a belief that still shapes how I interact with those around me today.

And it is a lie.

I still think I was clueless, but now I can see the real area I was clueless in. I was trying to manipulate people into loving me back. If I confess, then maybe he will love me too. This is how I thought. It's how I still think sometimes. I was confessing for my own convenience. Trying to manipulate the situation in my favor. Trying to "get" the prize, the perfect boyfriend that would make my life better.

But that's not what love is.

Love is thinking about the other person. Love is wanting happiness for someone else. Love doesn't put down people, (yourself included.) Love isn't about making the other person love me back. When I confess, my goal should not be to convince the other person to love me back. The goal should be to let the other person know how I feel. Communication. I love you. I don't need anything in return. I just love you.

Isn't this how God shows us His love? He isn't trying to manipulate us with His love. He doesn't show His love to only the "good" people or the "Christians." He loves everyone. He loves even when He knows He'll be rejected. He tells us He loves us in the languages of our hearts; in the beauty of a sunset, in a moving piece of music, in the quietness of a clear night, the majesty of the mountains or the charisma of the sea. We each have our own way of receiving love, and God speaks to us personally though that. But we, often don't hear, or refuse to understand. (Like the girl who no matter how hard the poor boy tried to convey his feelings, remained convinced she was unlovable.)

I think that learning how to love, is learning how to communicate. Learning how to think about the other person instead of assuming things about them. Learning to listen and understand what the other person is really saying. Learning to receive in honesty.

"I love you" should be a way to build up and support another person, not manipulate them into fulfilling you.



I'm very thankful for stories that help me learn more about myself and life.

If you ever get a chance to watch or read "Kimi ni Todoke" I highly recommend it. (I recommend having two completely empty days if you want a marathon watching though.)

I feel like I have a little bit of a head start on the new year now.

When the sky clears

It's been rainy and cold lately here. I've been very thankful so far for our new apartment, which is MUCH much warmer than my last house.

Tonight, on my way home from the doctor, I was able to catch the sunset. On clear days you can even see Mt. Fuji. I hurried home to grab my camera, and went to a pedestrian bridge near my house to try get a few shots. Unfortunately, the bridge is right over a major road, so it's not such a spectacular view, but I thought I'd put up some pictures anyway. I've been slacking off in the picture area lately, so here are a few shots of my new neighborhood. :-D








From the bridge looking towards Mt. Fuji, it's small, but you can see it.


















The stairs leading up the bridge. Notice the flat area in the middle for bicycles.

In the middle of the buildings to the upper right is where I go for my foot rehabilitation.










A few closer shots of Mt. Fuji.



























The dusk sky in the other direction.











There is a park in between the one-way roads. Many people take their dogs there for walks. I've played my guitar there once late at night. :-D

It stretches for quite a ways.








And the last picture is of the skyline opposite from Mt. Fuji. Even north of Tokyo, we have our fair share of skyscrapers.

Celebrating together

It's been a while since I've written a personal update. So here's what's been going on.

A few weeks ago, I was able to take off my walking boot on my broken foot and stop using crutches. This has helped reduce my stress a lot. It's amazing how having an able body changes your ability to deal with things. My legs are getting stronger again, and this week I wasn't as tired as before.

I'm still going to rehabilitation weekly, and I wear a wrap around my foot to keep the ankle stabilized, but it's good to more mobile again.



We are getting used to life minus one roommate. So far, we seem to be making due. My other roommate is getting enough work to meet ends on her side of things, and with a little change in my schedules, I'm managing to manage my finances as well.

I've started cooking to take my lunches for work. This is actually a bit of a production, since I'm at work for about 10 hours a day 4 days a week. (plus about 3 hrs commuting time) So I eat lunch and dinner at work. So I have to make two meals to take with me. This has translated into me coming home from work, making an evening meal for the next day, and then waking up early to make rice balls or sandwiches for lunch. My roommate is happy because I make enough for her too, and this cuts down on the amount of cooking she has to do. I managed one week of it, so we'll see how long I can keep it up.

My headaches have been increasing a bit in intensity, so I finally got my butt in gear and scheduled an appointment with a doctor to get more medication. With the broken foot, it had been difficult for me to make it to the head doctor, so it's been several months with no medication. I'll go tomorrow, so I'm looking forward to have medication again.

Yesterday we celebrated with the band. There were two birthday's, one member had his first daughter born, another member was able to come for the first time in several months, and we saw some old faces we hadn't seen in a while. It was a good evening, with home-made cakes, laughter, and fellowship together. To top it off, we watched the lunar eclipse together.

Many happy memories were made, at least by me.

Today I'm thankful for life progressing on. (and warm fleece!)

Father Abraham

In the Bible classes I'm teaching, we read Genesis 15 this week. (Take a second and read it)

Well that's a simple enough story right? Easy to understand...

riiiiiggght (insert rolling eyes here)


(Ok, enough eye rolling)


(serious face)

I've noticed many times when I read the Bible, I just don't get the point. Why was that even written? What is this trying to teach me? Is this supposed to make me love or understand God better? So confused. (insert confused face here)

I've read this passage before, I've taught about this passage before. But I've never really thought about it before.

I'm like that. I quickly read something, but then don't think about it too deeply. I like things to be spelled out for me. Too much thinking takes too much effort.

OK, I'm just lazy I guess. (I spent more time being frustrated by being made to interpret or find the hidden meaning in English Lit classes than actually thinking about things.)

But if I repeat things enough, sometimes I get it. In this case, I've experienced enough that I finally get it. Let me re-tell the story for you: (some 13 and 14 thrown in for background info...)

Abram is God's friend. God likes Abram a lot. God sent him to a new country, made him rich and powerful, he's got a beautiful wife, powerful friends, a bit of a stupid nephew and stuff like that. Well, his stupid nephew went to live near a rich, but not so "nice" city (Imagine Las Vegas on speed, minus the flashing lights). The king of this city and his four friends went and rebelled against a different king. This causes all kinds of problems and the big king gathers up his three friends and decides to teach them a lesson. A whole lot of people get captured and taken away, including Abram's nephew. One guy escapes and tells Abram, who has no choice but to talk to his two friends, gather up his 318 men (plus friends' men) and go get his nephew back. Abram, who is being backed by God, of course wins with no problems and rescues all the people. Only now the stupid king wants to bribe Abram and get him under his thumb. Abram wisely refuses, and goes back home.

Now Abram is understandably stressed out. So God, concerned about His friend, comes to comfort him. "Don't sweat the small stuff Abram! I've got your back! You know I'm always gonna be there for you!" But Abram's feeling a bit down, and he's kinda feeling the years. And he thinks back, and realizes he's been in this Caanan for a while now, and all these big promises God gave him 5 or 6 years ago still haven't happened the way he thought they would. So he lets a bit of his frustration show. "What are you talking about God? You promised me that I would be come a "great nation" and all that. But I'm still here living in tents with no land of my own, and no children to populate this great nation. I'm getting old and I don't even have an heir. Heck my servant is going to be the one to inherit everything when I die! I mean he's a nice guy and everything, but he's just not the same thing as a son you know... So what do you want me to make of all this stuff?"

God smiles and says "Don't worry. You won't have to give your servant all your stuff. You will have a child from your own body. I'm gonna give you all this land. Check out the stars. Try to count them. This is what your future descendants look like. Nice huh?"

And Abram believed. God's happy that Abram believes, but notices that Abram is still feeling a little uncertain. Abram see's the present, and can't imagine how it will become such a future. God's got a hidden plan, but Abram can't see all that. All Abram can see is the fact that he's a foreigner in a land full of all these violent tribes, and he has no children to boot. (and he's been pretty patient too...) So, God, in His compassion, decides to show Abram how much He loves him.

"Hey, tell you what. I'll show you how serious I am. Let's do that ceremony, you know the one the leaders do when they promise something big. You go get the animals and get them ready."

So God performs this traditional ceremony (which basically means, "If I break my promise, then may I end up just like these animals, cut up and torn apart") which is kinda like a conditional curse (the big scary ancestor of "cross my heart, hope to die, poke a needle in my eye") and then even tells Abram parts of His secret plan, 400 years in the future. (Your descendants will become slaves in a foreign land, but don't worry, I'll punish the nation, and bring them back rich. Then I'll give them this land here, while punishing the people who live here at the same time. It's a great plan don't you think? All these crazy, violent people here, have 400 years to get their act together, before I punish them. And then I'll give you this land I've been promising you. Just be more patient. Oh but don't worry, you'll die an old man peacefully here.)

Wow. That's pretty awesome. God did all of that for Abram. Abram must have felt very humbled, very loved after that big production. Wow.

And that gave Abram the strength to wait the next 15 years until he could see God's promise, Isaac for the first time.

20 years of waiting. But God was with Abram the whole time. God kept supporting and loving Abram the whole time (even when Abram messed up!)

This has become one of the most awesome stories ever! (super excited happy face here)

I always get excited when I come across revelations like this one. I can look back on my life, and then I can see where God was with me, and all the things He has done for me. When I get frustrated because life doesn't seem to be going the way I thought it would... When I mess up, or loose my confidence.... When I wonder if God even likes me.... It's easy to loose sight of God's love. But if I stop, and really remember.... Yes, there was that time when I felt completely loved by God. And there was the other time when God encouraged me in this way.... There are so many!

And I can calm down, stop thinking only about the way things look now, and remember that God is always with me, and always loves me, even if things don't always happen at my pace.

Although I'm kinda glad God doesn't show me His love by splitting apart animals anymore!

The Lord Giveth and the Lord Taketh Away

Three years ago, God gave me something I didn't really want. I'm an introvert, and becoming more of one as years pass. Too many relationships make me tired. So many of them I have to put so much energy into making them work. So three years ago I was at the point when I didn't want anymore relationships. I was about to leave the missionary program I was working in, so when the new missionaries came in, I didn't want to have anything to do with them.

But God had other plans.

God gave me a new relationship anyway. She was one of the new missionaries, and she chose me. (I think she felt sorry for me, because I complain a lot, and my site was more isolated than other sides, so I was also frustrated at the time...) So she began "shadowing" me. She came to my events, she came to my church, she came with me to the band. She stayed at my (insanely dirty and scary) house sometimes. I started calling her my duckling because she was always walking behind me.

And somewhere, I let my stubborn walls down. And she entered into my heart. Her struggles became important to me. I wanted to fight for her, and help her. She wanted to fight for me and help me. We were "nakama." (friends, comrades)

When her circumstances changed, she moved in with me. We lived together as roommates for two years. I had been praying for a roommate because of how terribly lonely it is to live alone. And God gave.

Then this year we met another girl, and by some strange turn of events (I can only say this was also by God's prompting, since it was out of character for all of us.) we invited her to move in with us. This meant we had to find a new apartment and move.

Then things started getting worse at Duckling's company. (I had already quit the company and gone back to working for the church.) It was a rough half year. There was also earthquakes, tsunami's, nuclear reactors thrown in there as well.

New roommate moves in, and we begin learning how to live as a community. We tried our best to make it work and affirming for all three of us.

And then the Lord takes away what I didn't want taken away.

Week before last, I had a week off from work. It was perfect timing to spend one last week with Duckling before she went back to America. We went out everyday, doing things together, taking pictures, meeting people, having good-bye parties. Taking care of details.

Last week I had to go back to work. Thursday, Duckling went back to America. We helped walk her to the bus stop with her luggage. (my other roommate, who scorns all the names I try to give her, had to help carry the bags, because I am still on crutches, and therefore useless as a helper) I said good-bye at the bus stop, and left early to go to work.

But I was given good students on Thursdays, and they helped me through a difficult day (even if they don't know it.)

God gives and God takes away. But God is always good.

I have to trust God for my life. I didn't know why God gave me something I didn't think I wanted. I don't know why God took the thing I wanted to keep away. I don't know why we were called to move, and then have one third of our community taken away in less than a year. I don't know what opportunities God has for us. But I can only trust. There is no other option. Trust and pray and be thankful and hope. This is what blind faith is. Even when we don't understand. Even when we don't like it. We never turn away from God.

So I think I should not only be grateful for the things God gives, but also for when He takes away. I'm thankful for the mercy He has shown me, and the time with Duckling. She supported me and helped me greatly. And I pray that this time of "taking away" is a blessing to us both.



In an interesting parallel... I had a horrible migraine yesterday, probably caused by the rain. It starts out bearable in the morning, and then gradually gets worse. By the evening I'm feeling sick and light bothers me. I seem to make it through the kids classes (although yesterday I wasn't very "genki") but then it worsens before my last adult class. Last time I had a headache like this, I threw up in class and had to cancel. I ended up sleeping at the church because it was too difficult for me to go home. (trains are very very bad for movement sensitive headaches.) This time I made it through class (although we had to cancel chapel and we ended 10 mins early). I had been as ready to go as possible before class, so I finished getting ready to go, which means quite a bit of bending over and such, and manage to make it down the stairs before I empty my stomach. I was actually glad I was able to throw up before getting on the trains. Makes less of a mess later. Since it was Friday night and no school the next day, I really just wanted to go home. I figured I would put up with the trains, and then take a taxi home from the last station. So I set off to the station, very slowly. (having to walk on crutches is a great excuse to walk really slowly and not have others get really annoyed with you.) I made it to right outside of the station, when the movement of walking caught up to me and made sure my stomach was really empty. Once again, I was glad to do that BEFORE getting on the train. I get on the first train and find a seat and cover my head. (I'm sure somewhere in all of this I was desperately begging God to help heal me, but I'm not sure if I really believed it or not.) So the train starts moving, and I find it's not making me sick like I thought it would. I figure it's just because I had covered my eyes or something, but then I managed to make the transfer between trains with little problems. On the second train I'm feeling noticeably better. By the third train, there is no more nausea and the headache is down to manageable size. By my destination station, I feel perfectly fine and I am able to walk home as normal. Now, the reason this is so amazing is because I've had these kinds of headaches before. This kind of headache, after it has reached the throw up stage had NEVER gone away in less than 12 hours! And I usually have a left over headache the next day. To have it go away in such a short time, under heavy movement circumstances is nothing short of a Miracle! God also takes away things we need taken away.

As I thought about that on the way home, I felt that it was OK to hope again. God reminded me once again of His goodness and provision. Just a small thing like that was enough to give me strength.

I still have a long way to go, but it's good to remember that I'm not going alone. The people around me might change, come and go, But the ONE I need will always be with me.

The Lord Giveth and the Lord Taketh Away. And I shall Praise Him.

Transforming Sarai's heart

¹⁵ God also said to Abraham, “As for Sarai your wife, you are no longer to call her Sarai; her name will be Sarah. ¹⁶ I will bless her and will surely give you a son by her. I will bless her so that she will be the mother of nations; kings of peoples will come from her.” ¹⁷ Abraham fell facedown; he laughed and said to himself, “Will a son be born to a man a hundred years old? Will Sarah bear a child at the age of ninety?”

¹ The LORD appeared to Abraham near the great trees of Mamre while he was sitting at the entrance to his tent in the heat of the day. ² Abraham looked up and saw three men standing nearby. When he saw them, he hurried from the entrance of his tent to meet them and bowed low to the ground.

³ He said, “If I have found favor in your eyes, my lord,^[e] do not pass your servant by. ⁴ Let a little water be brought, and then you may all wash your feet and rest under this tree. ⁵ Let me get you something to eat, so you can be refreshed and then go on your way—now that you have come to your servant.”

“Very well,” they answered, “do as you say.”

⁶ So Abraham hurried into the tent to Sarah. “Quick,” he said, “get three seahs^[f] of the finest flour and knead it and bake some bread.”

⁷ Then he ran to the herd and selected a choice, tender calf and gave it to a servant, who hurried to prepare it. ⁸ He then brought some curds and milk and the calf that had been prepared, and set these before them. While they ate, he stood near them under a tree.

⁹ “Where is your wife Sarah?” they asked him.

“There, in the tent,” he said.

¹⁰ Then one of them said, “I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife will have a son.”

Now Sarah was listening at the entrance to the tent, which was behind him. ¹¹ Abraham and Sarah were already very old, and Sarah was past the age of childbearing. ¹² So Sarah laughed to herself as she thought, “After I am worn out and my lord is old, will I now have this pleasure?”

¹³ Then the LORD said to Abraham, “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Will I really have a child, now that I am old?’ ¹⁴ Is anything too hard for the LORD? I will return to you at the appointed time next year, and Sarah will have a son.”

¹⁵ Sarah was afraid, so she lied and said, “I did not laugh.”

But he said, “Yes, you did laugh.”

I can't imagine how hard it was for Abraham and Sarah. Well, maybe it wasn't so bad. I mean, they were rich, good looking, powerful... But they were still waiting for a promise from the Lord. For a REALLY long time.

I feel for Sarah, I really do. She lives in a time where women gain value through giving birth. Even though she is beautiful (beautiful enough for leaders of other countries to take her away), she is childless. She is incomplete as a woman. And even though she has a godly husband, he is a husband who fears her beauty, instead of becoming inspired to protect it. In the end it was God protecting her when she was abandoned by Abram.

Yes, of course her heart would turn bitter and cynical. The thing she must want the most, the thing that has seemly been promised to her years ago, never came. Now she is too old to have children. She is a failure. Dare she even hope for it anymore? How much easier to shut away your heart, and assume that it won't come true.

I feel for Sarah, because my heart is the same. Only I'm not even near 90 yet.

I wonder if her heart was able to laugh with joy after Issac was born, instead of bitterness...

It's so easy for me to get caught up in what I don't have yet. It's easy for me to look at the past records and think it will always be that way. My heart turns bitter, and when someone suggests hope for me, the laughter contains no joy.

How many times have I shot down other's encouraging words, because my bitter heart did not want to be tortured by "false" hope?

It's hard for me, because I can't say that I have "heard" a direct promise from God to me about my life. Maybe if I had one, then I would be able to cling to that and believe. But then again, I would probably doubt it over and over.

My faith is not enough. I do not trust God with my heart. I do not trust God with my future. I look at my past, and my present, and I distrust what God has planned for me. I resign myself to following God, knowing that of course it will be "good," but what is "good" for me is not always "fun" or what I want. I follow because there is nothing else for me to do. But I do not follow with joy or hope.

How sad.

When I teach, I love it when kids are learning because they like learning. They are having fun, they experiment with the things they are learning. Class is a joy for me too. But many kids are there because they have to be. Those classes are not so fun. It's like pulling teeth. No matter how hard I try to make class fun and interesting, if the kid is only doing it because they have to, it's no fun. There is no joy, only frustratingly slow progress.

Both kinds of kids learn, but only one kind enjoys it. The teacher is the same. Only the children's attitudes are different.

When God changed Sarai's name, He gave her a symbolic new start. My notes in my Bible say that both names mean "princess." When I think about it, I guess there are two kinds of princesses. The first, is the spoiled rich-girl kind. You know, the ones that only think of themselves. The second is the elegant, kind, responsible princesses. The ones who are rescued and live happily ever after. Did the transformation of Sarai's name to Sarah also give her a transformation of heart?

I also want to transform my heart. I want to find hope in the future instead of bitter laughter. I want to believe in the possibilities, instead of giving up, believing that I am not worthy of receiving such things. But most of all, I want to be a person who believes without doubting the Goodness of God's heart and intentions toward me. When God tells us to "be joyful always" maybe He is telling us the secret to having "life to the full."

So now, I'm trying to remind myself of these things when the doubts and the negative voices assail me.

Maybe someday I'll get a new name too.