家庭 Home

I have so much to tell of the events of the past few days, but forgive me if I wait to do that until a later post. I want this post to be about something I have been reflecting on for quite awhile now and I think I am ready to put it into words. Many of you are familiar with the idea that God speaks to us in ways that we often don't even see coming. In my own life, it is sometimes almost rare for me to hear God through the Bible (something I really need to work on), but more often than not someone, somewhere will say something and it will be a light bulb moment. "Aha! I get it!" and I send God a grateful smile or at least a nod of acknowledgement (usually when I am unhappy with what I am being told), and a word of thanks for making it so clear. These words have come to me from complete strangers, or random signs, but one of the cleverest ways God has spoken to me recently came from an American Idol winner whose number one hit has been all over the radio lately. At least in the States. By now I am sure that many of you know which song I am talking about, but for those of you who don't the song is called "Home" by Phillip Phillips. I will post both the song and the lyrics below for your perusal. I think as soon as you listen/read it you will know exactly why this song speaks to me so.

"Home" by Phillip Phillips

Hold on, to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home

Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home

Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home


I was told by many people, upon taking my current position in Japan, that there would be days when I would wonder what the heck I am doing. Those days came, on occasion, before leaving. And whenever they did all I had to do was hop in the car, turn on the radio, and lo and behold, sooner or later this song would come on. Its a song that makes me cry, and a song that makes me cheer. This song is one of the ways that God has reassured me, repeatedly, that He knows exactly what He is doing by placing me here. As the song says, "Settle down, it'll all be clear..." At the end of the day I don't have to have an answer to the question of why I am here. The only answer I have to know, absolutely, is that God placed me here. In time the why may become clear; but that's for Him to reveal to me when He chooses.

Today was a hard day. It was the first day I took the subway by myself. I was headed to a church, alone, to a service that wasn't in English, not knowing if anyone there spoke English, hardly knowing a word of Japanese. I played this song over and over and over again. I am listening to it now, as I write. It gave me the courage and strength that I needed to face this day, as it has many days before today. I will reflect more on church later, for it is important, but today I want to give thanks for an American Idol winning song, the man who sings it, and the God who gave it to me as a precious gift. Some may read this post and think I have lost my mind. Some may read it and say that's too simple, or its just a coincidence. Its not. Not to me. And really, that's what matters. I wonder if Phillip Phillips knows that he has changed lives with his song? Maybe I should send him a thank you card. "Phillip Phillips, thank you for the courage. Did you know God was using you? No? I never know when He uses me either. Funny how He does that, isn't it? Love from a fan in Japan." God has spoken to me loud and clear. He placed me here. He chose me. He has a plan for me. He knows EXACTLY what He is doing. I know I am not alone. And, without a doubt, He's going to make this place my home.

The First Week: (my brain doesn't want to think of a better title right now, forgive my lack of creativity)

"I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith." Ephesians 3:16

Hello dear readers! Greetings from Japan! Things have been pretty crazy since I last wrote, but I'll try to keep it a bit shorter this time. I won't bore you with the details of my flight, because, honestly, compared to Tokyo, what is there to tell? I will tell you that I was two hours late getting in, so it was a bit of a late first night. I was met at the airport and it was off to see my new apartment!

Laura and Morgan had both mentioned the apartment was small. That was an understatement. It's one room, a hallway, a closet, a shower room, and a toilet room. Totally cute though and, since it's just me, it works. I'm all moved in and settled now and I like my apartment. The view from my window is a little bit of sky and lots of buildings very close together. Very strange to a girl from the Midwest.

My first day was madness of the best kind. Tokyo is made up of wards and my apartment is in Shibuya ward. This means that I had to register with the Shibuya office and get a ID card. After that we went off to get a bank account and a cell phone. Paul Hoshizaki from JELA (the Lutheran Association here in Japan) was helping me with all of this and I am so glad I was not on my own. Things that would be so easy for me to do on my own in Omaha would have been incredibly difficult here, and the language barrier was just the start.

The amount of people in Tokyo... I had read all about it of course, and seen pictures, but absolutely nothing could have prepared me for it. The largest city in the States that I've been to is Chicago. It has nothing on Tokyo. You turn the corner and it is just a wall of humanity all moving in different directions. It is incredibly overwhelming, and, perhaps, will be one of the things that will take the longest to get used to. Riding the subway during rush hour is intense, but that is how I get to Japanese class in the morning. Luckily, I am riding close to the end of rush hour.

Speaking of subway stations, they are so confusing! I don't know that I will ever fully figure it out. However, I do know how to get to class. Church is another story because I have to switch from the subway to the train at one of the busiest stations in Tokyo. We got lost the only time I went. Hopefully, I will manage okay the second time. It's the stations that are the worst for me. I have no idea where to turn! The signs help, but there are so many! Plus, the people around you are moving so quickly that it is difficult not to get swept along in the rush.

I have made my first social gaffe as well. I met the Executive Director of JELA, Mr. Morikawa. He handed me his business card and, thanks to Grandpa Keenan, I was well versed in how to handle this situation. I took it with both hands, bowed, read it thoroughly, thanked him, and put it in my card case. Only problem was I was so nervous and so concentrated on not messing up, that I accidentally used the informal thank you, the one that you use with family and friends, and NOT the Executive Director! I was very embarrassed, but I think he understood.

This weekend I went to an English Bible Camp. We took a bus across Tokyo Bay to Chiba. My first trip to the ocean! I had seen the ocean from the air of course, but it is not the same as being there. It was so windy! We were a small group, only about seventeen counting myself, but we had a great time. I can officially state that I have attended a worship service at a squash court! It was pretty funny trying to pray with people playing squash and celebrating squash victories next door. Not to mention the ping pong in the room in front of the squash courts. I am so happy to have met such good, new friends. One of the women I met, Sachie-san, told me as I was getting off the bus at the end of the weekend that we were family now and it made me so happy! Knowing that you have people to turn to makes all the difference in the world. It was a weekend of trying new foods (least favorite: tofu, most favorite: everything at the BBQ from pork to eggplant!), meeting new friends, and taking a new look at familiar Bible verses.

For me, one of the highlights of the weekend was telling the Christmas story to a new friend of mine who was hearing it for the first time. It was harder than you might think because, while she spoke English very, very well, some of the familiar phrases we use, such as Wise Men, or even worse Magi, didn't work well. Sachie was listening and she said, "Are those the three Scholars?" and so the Three Scholars they became. Which totally works and I think I may use from now on! Tauna, another new missionary in Tokyo, had started telling the story and when she saw I was listening she asked if I wanted to jump in. I did starting from the shepherds in the fields. Telling the story in such a place and to someone who had never heard it before reminded me of what a dramatic story it really is; it is a powerful, moving tale. I got choked up (not that I think anyone noticed) when I talked of the angels coming to the shepherds. The retelling gave the story a whole new meaning to me and I, once again, thank God that He put me here. I think, at the end of the day, I am not the missionary. The people I am surrounded by are the true missionaries. They have so much to teach me and I have so much to learn. Being here has given me fresh insight into old tales and verses that I have heard since I was a child. Looking at them again through the lens of another culture is a beautiful experience.

I will end with one last small anecdote of something that happened to me last week. It is something I have thought about every time the language barrier gets me down. Laura, Morgan and I had gone to the Daiso, or the 100 Yen store. It was pretty busy, as you might imagine, and after awhile I got sensory overload and told the girls I would meet them outside. While I was waiting an elderly woman with a walker came out the door. She left her walker at the top of the stairs and started to move down the stairs holding on to the rail with both hands. I figured she must have someone to help coming right behind her, but I kept an eye out just the same. She reached the bottom and just stood there, holding on with both hands, and no one came. I was nervous, not being able to say anything, so I bowed, gestured to her walker, and went up the stairs to get it. I was kind of worried that someone would come out of the store and wonder what this weird foreign girl was doing with their mother/grandmother's walker, but no one did and I carried it down to her. What followed was a lot of bowing by both of us. She thanked me and I said "You're welcome" before remembering that I totally know how to say that in Japanese, which I promptly did. We were both beaming at each other and with one last bow and a big smile she started down the street. Laura and Morgan came out, and, as we were heading home, I noticed a young man helping the woman into a car. We smiled and I bowed and walked on. You don't need to be able to speak the same language to connect with people. You just have to have the courage to open your heart. God takes care of the rest. Till next time!

New friends! At Chiba Bible Camp

The J3's: Morgan, Laura, and I

If you look VERY close you can see Fuji-san! My first glimpse across the sea!

A visit to the sea wall with Mae-san and Min-san

Hanging out the the J3 ladies and Sachie-san

Playing darts. Neither of us really knew how to play so it was an entertaining game! Mae-san totally won.

BBQ time! Look at all that good food!

Squid, pork, chicken, scallops, and soba noodles!

Yay for grilled veggies!

Outside of Shinjuku Station

The Great Wait of 2012

"For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord..." Jeremiah 29:11

Hey all! I am now two days away from moving to Japan where I will be teaching English for the next two and a half years as a missionary for the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, ELCA. You will frequently see me refer to this as J-3, meaning Japan three year. I am going with two other ladies, Morgan Dixon of Georgia, and Laura Fentress of California. In later posts I will discuss how this all came to pass, but for now let me explain the insanity of the last two months.

The original plan was for the three of us to leave on September 25th. With this in mind I was commissioned by my church on September 2nd and had a big going away party with family and friends. Shortly afterwards we (Laura, Morgan, and myself) received word that there was trouble with our visas and our leave date might be delayed for a month and a half at most. And so the Great Wait of 2012 began. Okay, allow me to admit something. I do not wait well. I have plans. Always. Frequently ten years in advance. When I find that a huge life change is not going according to plan (I know, like it ever does?) I don't always handle it well. This was no exception. However, there was a chance, however slight, that we might still leave on the 25th. So I continued to pack and plan, and by the Saturday before Leave Day I was ready. We still hadn't received any word, going or not, and on Skype that Saturday night we had no clue what to think. Word came on Monday that we would not be leaving the following day and the Great Wait of 2012 continued.

I had quit my job at the library at the end of August in order to give myself some time to prepare and I considered going back. However, the reality of the situation was such that we had no idea when we would be flying out and it could be any day. First coping mechanism: buying things. Clothes, travel oddities, DVDs... it was, frankly, ridiculous. I wasn't buying big things, and they were all things I "needed". Another pair of slacks for teaching, a laptop bag, an outfit for church, a pair of black pumps to go with the new slacks, you get the picture. I thought I had room. And according to my understanding of excess baggage limitations I did have room. My understanding was very, very wrong. But more on that in a minute. I think more than anything I was shopping to get out of the house. This whole shopping spree thing didn't last long, but it did some damage. The full extent of which I was to find out later. While in the house I was often studying Japanese, finding things to do in Japan, studying Japanese history, etc. etc. I'm sure I actually retained more than I think I did, but as of right now I feel like I can't remember anything I spent so much time studying in the past month and a half.

Claire, my younger sister for any of you readers who might not know, was home with me during all of this (except for this last week cause she got a job! Whoot!). She was spending her time filling out job applications like crazy. In reality we were terrible for each other. When one was all ready to get things done, the other was being lazy, which usually led to both of us lazing around the house and, in general, being rather pathetic. Then my parents would get home from work. I was driving my family batty. All I could talk about was Japan and I hadn't even gone yet. I felt like I had no life outside of preparing for Japan. My other friends had all begun their new graduate jobs and were insanely busy, most being first year teachers. So I stayed home and talked about Japan and made my parents and my younger sister want to scream. Anna (older sister), my dear, consider yourself lucky to have escaped the madness. I think I should mention that the thought that I might leave any day prompted MANY "final" goodbyes. Honorable mention goes to: Alicia, Jenn, Sarah, and Lauren. I can't tell you how many times I hugged friends and family and we expressed that we actually hoped that this would indeed be the final goodbye.

Around the second week in October I had enough of waiting. Which brought about the second, more healthy, coping mechanism. I didn't think going back to work at the library was an option with the thought of leaving any day still there. So instead I called both branches that I had worked at and asked to volunteer. I went for my first day on Friday. It was great to see everyone again and spend a few hours in productive activity. That Friday night I was home alone and started to have stomach pains. It wasn't terrible, more of a mild annoyance and I ignored it. By Sunday afternoon I was not doing so hot and I resolved to go to the doctor first thing the next morning.

My family doctor couldn't find any of the usual causes of stomach pain of this kind to be the case and scheduled me for an abdominal ultra sound for the next morning. She left me with instructions to call if the pain got worse. Lo and behold it did and Monday evening found my mom and myself in the ER at Methodist Hospital. They promptly sent me in for a CAT scan to make sure it wasn't the appendix. After "ruling that out" they injected me with lots of pain killers and sent me home. Monday night was awful; I was in so much pain I couldn't sleep.

My doctor called the next afternoon with the results of the ultrasound. They thought they had a diagnosis, but in order to be sure they wanted to do a laparoscopy. Minor, outpatient surgery, I was told, with a recovery time of about two days. It was scheduled for Wednesday, October 24th. This phone call came too late in the day for me to call the ELCA and I resolved to do so first thing in the morning. And I bet you know what comes next.

The morning of October 17th I got on my email with no thoughts other than to get the Global Mission's HR phone number. I had over the last several weeks restricted myself to checking my email twice a day, at noon and at five. I broke that rule and hopped on early in the morning to get the number I needed and, naturally, the email I had been waiting weeks for was the first thing staring me in the face. There may have been a bit of screaming. I opened it with shaky fingers and breathed a sigh of relief. Our visas were on their way and we would fly out the week of the 29th. I had time to get the outpatient surgery and still go with Morgan and Laura. I called the ELCA and filled them in, stressing that I would be fine and would of course be able to leave with the others. HA!

I went in to "outpatient" surgery on October 24th at the Methodist Women's Hospital. I was nervous, but incredibly thankful that I was still at home when it happened. The first thing I heard upon waking up after surgery? "They ended up taking her appendix out," I heard a nurse say, presumably to another nurse, right next to my bed. All I could think was, "Wait. Are they talking about ME?!" and then I went back to sleep. Yes, they were talking about me. My dad called the ELCA for me and let them know of the changes and I spent the night in the hospital.

I emailed Laura and Morgan and we set up a Skype chat to discuss the fact that I would no longer be flying with them. I was torn. On the one hand I was so thankful that it had happened while I could recover at home. On the other I was incredibly upset at the delay. On Halloween, the day that Morgan and Laura flew out, I had my turn around day. I was glad I wasn't on the plane though, because I still felt pretty sick as the day started. The following day I got the okay from the doctor to leave, and the day after that I was told I would be leaving on Sunday, November 11th.

This past week was a flurry of repacking and re-goodbye-ing. Which leads me back to my earlier point about excess baggage. I was prepared financially to pay $252 in excess shipping costs. The area of my two big suitcases was over the 106 inch limit (really lame as each of my suitcases is a standard 61 inches but whatever) and each weighed more than the 50lb limit. No big, I thought. The ELCA gave us a shipping allowance, and I was moving for two years. I had already had a major lesson in materialism when I got rid of a ton of clothes, shoes, and books before packing the first time. I was about to get my second lesson. It's not an easy thing to pack you "life" into two suitcases, a carry-on, and a backpack that has to fit under an airline seat, but I accomplished it and was rather proud of myself. I thought I had better check the excess baggage fees for Singapore Airlines one more time. And about had a fit when I realized that it wasn't $84 each time your bag was too big. If it weighed to much it was THREE TIMES the number in the above table. Which meant that I would now pay $588! I'm not entirely sure how I missed this the first time. I even called Singapore Air the first time to make sure I was okay. Whatever. Point being, I had to lose five pounds from one bag and a whopping twenty five from the other. Please note: I considered fibbing that last bit as it is embarrassing to admit that you bag, which was supposed to weigh 50lbs, actually weighed 75lbs, but I did not.

Bag one lost two pairs of shoes and (this is the most distressing) my beloved Archeological Study Bible. I had a travel bible in my backpack and, have you ever seen the Archeological Study Bible? Its massive and probably weighs like five pounds on its own. However, I will probably ship that in a box before I go as it is really important to me. Bag two. Oh bag two. All of my books. I had been so proud at the amount I was taking (hardly any in my opinion, but you'll note I am not telling you the real number), my DVD case, and most of my toiletries. I had to chastise myself on the last one. I am going to Japan, they have it there. I was in tears at the end, both because of what I was getting rid of and also because I was in tears over what I was getting rid of. I felt so selfish and materialistic. So many people don't even have enough possessions to fill my suitcases and here I was in tears because I couldn't take DVDs. I was joining a long history of missionaries who went to these incredibly remote places around the globe and I was upset because I couldn't take my favorite books. I had a Kindle! It wasn't the end of the world, but in some ways it really felt like it. I was trying to surround myself with my stuff, like that was going to make what I was about to do easier. Nothing can make what I am about to do easier, nothing but faith that this is all according to plan.

I will say goodbye to my family on Sunday morning at Eppley Airport. There is a chance that I will not have another hug from them for two years and four and a half months. That thought makes me want to bawl my eyes out, but we don't talk about it because it won't change anything. This is a dream I have been after my whole life. My family knows that and I know they are proud of me. I am blessed to have such support behind me as I set off. Thank to everyone who put up with my insanity for the past few months. I couldn't be here without you, you know who you are.

Once upon a time my parents gave me a necklace with the following quote on it from Shakespeare's A Winter's Tale: "To unpathed waters, undreamed shores..." Let the adventure begin!