"And being mindful of the time..."

During my first year of university, I distinctly remember visiting a church where the pastor was speaking about a text from Romans...something about being mindful of the present time...anyway, the pastor was talking about the sense of urgency that we should feel when we reflect upon the time that God has given us to speak to people about His love and draw near to Him. People often talk about faith, love, hope, joy...even obedience, and discipline, but I was struck by the pastor's talk about urgency, and the fact that I so often think of this world as being all there is...forgetting that man's life "is but a breath" and that it's eternity that stretches on forever...

Anyway, this is not meant to be an exposition about a sermon that's several years old. :)

Pamela came to visit me last Friday, and it was wonderful to see her again...wonderful for many different reasons. One of those reasons was simply because it was good to not feel like the only crazy person around... :) Anyway, Pamela and I hung out for awhile with my older adopted grandmother, who was in the beginning not very happy with my decision to go to Japan. I haven't really undertaken any deep faith discussions with her, but have reflected often upon the fact that even though she doesn't get the world view of sending the gospel to the nations (my opinion, obviously...I can't see her heart!), she has a simple sort of faith that I really love. Since coming back to Japan, I have made small comments about Japan, but she has not seemed interested at all in hearing about the country or my time there...and seemed to hold the opinion of, "Well, you've done your dirty work for the Lord...now you're back where you belong."

Until yesterday, when she started asking Pamela a few questions about Japan. Pamela and I shared in the answering of the questions, and somehow we ended up quite naturally on the topic of religion. My adopted grandmother was kind of perplexed a little bit at our discussion of Buddhism and Shintoism and the like, and finally asked me very bluntly, "Do you think that all those Japanese people are going to hell?" I stopped with my mouth open, not wanting to answer her, but finally managed a rather weak, "Well, they don't believe in Jesus."

The next several minutes held one of the most beautiful pictures of "being mindful of the time" that I have ever seen...my grandmother's face changed from perplexity to pain as she said, "But you can't tell many people in such a short time! What about the ones who don't know about Jesus? What do they do?"

It was as if she finally caught the idea that there are people dying without salvation...people who need it. And, being a woman of faith and relationship with God, she responded with urgency and love...

Pamela and I assured her that we weren't the only missionaries in Japan :)...and that God had plenty of Japanese Christians working for Him too...and that God's heart is for the salvation of Japan...

It was so beautiful to see the realization come across her face...a good reminder that God is raising up pray-ers from all generations and peoples...and a reminder to me that yes, even though I am back in America right now, there is an urgency and a pain that comes from opening our eyes to the spiritual chains surrounding so many...an urgency that should not just be pushed away or shelved for missionary work, and is not just for a specific people group...an urgency to pray that God would move mightily, and touch people's eyes and ears and hearts so they can experience His salvation...

men...

Maybe it was because of Ryoko-san's comment, "Now you can get married, and come back here to visit." Maybe it was because of people saying things like, "You'll go back to school, get married, and start to forget about Japan..." Maybe it was because I knew I was moving from an almost 100% female program to a home and friendships with a lot of guys... Maybe it was simply because I knew my own personality and my weaknesses...

Either way, I came back from Japan saying firmly, "No men!" And I meant it...still mean it.

But, in spite of my best intentions, today I became aware of the fact that not just one, but three guys have somehow entwined their fingers around my heartstrings...sigh.

No, it's not as bad as you think. The guys are three brothers--two twins in kindergarten, and their brother, who's older by a couple years. Because of my after-school daycare job, I've gotten to know the boys, and we play things like mikan wars (without mikans), Junkan, and other things that I learned in Japan. We also play imaginary Star Wars fights and Shrek 2 games. :) They are always eager to learn and will come running up asking me loudly, "What is this in Japanese? Do you play this game in Japan? Will you teach me my name in Japanese again? Saisho what??" :) Or, if they are playing "the Shrek game" they'll come running up to me, tug my hand and say loudly, "Haidee, I need you!!! Can you read this card for me?" Even while I'm telling them they need to ask politely and be quieter, my heart feels healed simply from their confident trust and their need. If we are playing a game and they are sitting next to me, they sometimes just nestle into my lap, waiting for their turn to be played, and the older boy will just come up next to me and give me a half-hug while he's lining up or inbetween running around.

Somehow, being with them has been a place where I can feel "fully me"...a place that affirms my past and my memories, but also affirms the present. Most days, before I go to work and after I go to work there are always things that trigger memories or bring some sadness, but while I'm at work, playing with the boys and trying to keep them from killing each other, I'm...content and happy.

Today, however, was my last day that I'll see them for a few weeks, until our regular summer daycare program starts up, and when the oldest brother was saying goodbye and said, "See you Monday, Haidee," and I had to explain to him that I wouldn't be there...seeing his face, hearing his, "That's sad. You're fun."...and then watching him shrug a little and get into the car... I stood there with my heart simply aching, remembering my Friday night boys in Japan that I love so dearly, remembering trying to choke back tears as I gave them their last pieces of candy (from me) as they walked out the door. And suddenly I realized that I've "adopted" these three boys into my heart just as I did for those students...as much as I came back into America with walls up around my heart, I've already been blessed with people that I can love.

Painful love though, because now I know what it means to say goodbye. Even the 6 times that I've watched these boys over the last 3 weeks has made me feel like they are part of my family, and today was just a very good reminder that no matter what feelings are present, in the end, they'll go home to their real Mom and Dad, and I'll go...on. Even after a whole summer of feeling like family, I'll go...to another place, another life...wherever God is leading. Ouch.

How to put into words the mixture of thankfulness, pain, and love I feel right now? It's life. Today was full of reminders of where we get our stability and real relationship from...from the One who never-changes, and who's always there...

Practicing rest and accepting grace...

I hear You say,"My love is over. It's underneath. It's inside. It's in between.

The times you doubt Me, when you can't feel.
The times that you question, 'Is this for real? '
The times you're broken.
The times that you mend.
The times that you hate Me, and the times that you bend.

Well, My love is over, it's underneath. It's inside, it's in between.

These times you're healing, and when your heart breaks.
The times that you feel like you're falling from grace.
The times you're hurting.
The times that you heal.
The times you go hungry, and are tempted to steal.
The times of confusion, in chaos and pain.
I'm there in your sorrow, under the weight of your shame.
I'm there through your heartache. I'm there in the storm.
My love I will keep you, by My pow'r alone.

I don't care where you fall, where you have been. I'll never forsake you, My love never ends.
It never ends."
- from "Times", by Tenth Avenue North

Stumblings in a search for rest

So, today as I was biking back from my new part-time job the thought hit me: I haven't just sat down and written for myself in awhile. I say the thought hit me because honestly, it was as if I had forgotten that such self-processing methods even existed...I have been engaged in a lot of emails, a lot of communication, phone calls, even skypes, etc. But time of just "going to Gusto" or Saizeria or Royal Host, sitting with a drink bar and my computer or a notebook...just hasn't happened since coming back to the states.

People seem to have a pretty common opinion regarding my schedule these days:
"Oh, you must have a lot of free time now that you're back from Japan."

But I usually respond to that comment by saying something like, "I have no idea what it means to be busy anymore. I can't really judge my schedule very well these days."

And probably no one has a clue what I'm talking about. Oh, well. How can I possibly explain to people that I feel busy all the time, but feel completely meaningless while I'm doing things? Even when I'm trying to relax, I feel as though I should be--there's the dreaded "shoulds"--getting things done, whether it's studying Japanese or helping out my family...I hate shoulds. Whoever invented the work ethic anyway? And why is it that while so many people come back from Japan and can't find jobs and such, I feel as though I've come back with just as much if not more communication "jobs" to do, a family to reconnect with, and a part-time job?

Ok, in the midst of this ranting, I have to confess that my family really has been chill with me, and I know that they don't expect things of me...it's more my expectations for myself. And my part-time job is seriously...part-time. Not a big deal. But I still feel the heart racings like I would feel during a really busy time in Japan, and I still find myself repeating this self-talk monologue: "Ok...hyperventilating...now...just...slow...down...Haidee..."

What makes rest so difficult? Is it the pedestals that other people put me on? The pedestal I try to stand on myself? Am I running from the ache that continually threatens to catch up with me from what I've left behind, or am I simply experiencing the "foreigner's" stress that comes from being in a "new" place? Is it because suddenly I am void of dreams, void of purpose...trying to catch some sense of meaning in the daily life that I seem to screw up so often here? Is it trying to balance too many relationships? Why does God give me all these open doors that feel sometimes like they are cages rather than openings?

Darn it. Now I remember why I wiped the thought of typing on here out of my mind before...my eyes are getting suspiciously moist.

Some people think that rest is a learned thing that people grab onto, and they say that if I don't learn how to rest now, my entire life will forever be screwed up (what a joyous outlook)...maybe this is the learning process...