1) A huge bouquet of orange, yellow, and white flowers
2) A lovely simply bouquet of greens, two pink tulips, and three daisies
3) It is the first week of my entire time in Japan that there has been enough touch
4) I got to hold Mirai's baby (Kentaro) off and on all afternoon.
5) Playing "Life Stories" is an adequate lesson plan for any level of class when it's the last week.
6) I get to give away a couple Bibles with verses in them
7) God gave me one class with two Chinese students (no Japanese students) this term, and with them I can really rejoice about my future even as I'm saying goodbye.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
The End of an Era
Yesterday morning there was a mini-prayer summit at the Assemblies church close to mine. The day started at 9:30, and it took every ounce of courage I had to get myself in the doors at all...it was 11:00, just half an hour before the end of the prayer meeting. So much courage was necessary because these people have only seen "Pamela with a Tokyo-wide vision". And I knew that if I went I would have to tell them what is now the truth: I am leaving. And at the moment I can make no promises that I will ever be back.
If I could have teleported straight from giving them that news to an airplane, I would have done it.
Many other people have accepted my leaving with a calm lack of surprise. But this group is, of course, different... A Brazilian pastor said to me, "I'll keep that in prayer. Maybe God is calling us to start off from your prayers without you...but I hope not. I think you have the same heart [for prayer in Tokyo]." It sums it up well. These are the people I found when I felt all alone in my vision...we encourage each other just by existing at the same time in the same city. And it seems like people are finally starting to come together so that it's more than a vision...something is beginning to be built.
I keep thinking back to the IHOP prayer seminar a few months ago, and one experience in particular. I had dragged a number of friends along to the seminar, and they were all sitting in the back of the room. I had been dragged to the front and given a microphone to help lead harp and bowl worship. But the distance between me and the Lutheran missionaries was driving me *crazy*. I had the strong, strong urge to be sitting next to Jenae in particular. Finally, I set down my microphone and did it, earning me a strange look from the other girl who was leading.
Yesterday, they announced the time that they are going to start holding prayer meetings in the hope of building something bigger. It will be 1st and 3rd Saturdays from 2-4. Now, let me tell you something amusing. There are 52 hours in a week. There are exactly two activities I have felt a responsibility to be involved in during my last months in Japan: the building of a house of prayer and the building up of our fellowship group called Key. What do you suppose the odds are they would be in direct conflict with each other? Sigh.
But the decision was really made a long time ago at that prayer meeting where I moved out of the front to sit with Jenae. Key will keep my loyalty for the remaining months that I am here. The decision makes no sense in terms of greatest numbers, greatest efficiency, greatest value...it only makes sense in an upside down world where Jesus is King, where love is the greatest law, and where "important" is defined by that law and His calling. For now, a precious vision has been given back into His hands. And as Stan said yesterday, "Well...He is still King. And He's not surprised."
I sent in my application this afternoon.
If I could have teleported straight from giving them that news to an airplane, I would have done it.
Many other people have accepted my leaving with a calm lack of surprise. But this group is, of course, different... A Brazilian pastor said to me, "I'll keep that in prayer. Maybe God is calling us to start off from your prayers without you...but I hope not. I think you have the same heart [for prayer in Tokyo]." It sums it up well. These are the people I found when I felt all alone in my vision...we encourage each other just by existing at the same time in the same city. And it seems like people are finally starting to come together so that it's more than a vision...something is beginning to be built.
I keep thinking back to the IHOP prayer seminar a few months ago, and one experience in particular. I had dragged a number of friends along to the seminar, and they were all sitting in the back of the room. I had been dragged to the front and given a microphone to help lead harp and bowl worship. But the distance between me and the Lutheran missionaries was driving me *crazy*. I had the strong, strong urge to be sitting next to Jenae in particular. Finally, I set down my microphone and did it, earning me a strange look from the other girl who was leading.
Yesterday, they announced the time that they are going to start holding prayer meetings in the hope of building something bigger. It will be 1st and 3rd Saturdays from 2-4. Now, let me tell you something amusing. There are 52 hours in a week. There are exactly two activities I have felt a responsibility to be involved in during my last months in Japan: the building of a house of prayer and the building up of our fellowship group called Key. What do you suppose the odds are they would be in direct conflict with each other? Sigh.
But the decision was really made a long time ago at that prayer meeting where I moved out of the front to sit with Jenae. Key will keep my loyalty for the remaining months that I am here. The decision makes no sense in terms of greatest numbers, greatest efficiency, greatest value...it only makes sense in an upside down world where Jesus is King, where love is the greatest law, and where "important" is defined by that law and His calling. For now, a precious vision has been given back into His hands. And as Stan said yesterday, "Well...He is still King. And He's not surprised."
I sent in my application this afternoon.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Fathers
A couple snapshots from church yesterday:
-It was our annual meeting and a very heated discussion was going on. Something to do with how many people are on the church council, whether we are mistreating people by electing them over and over again, etc. One of those times when everyone has gotten very serious. In the middle of it all, Aaron's daughter Cassidy started drawing a picture on the white board. She didn't know Aaron was watching her, but in the middle of all this debating, he was distracted completely from the task at hand. Just looking at his daughter's art with a smile. Sometimes, it doesn't seem like other people are recognizing our work, but often I think God is watching it, secretly and silently from behind us so as not to distract us, but with a huge grin on His face.
-After the meeting, we came out to the office to discover that the pastor's son had been doing some "art" of his own. That is to say, there were now permanent marker "signatures" all over the chairs, desks and table. Once most of the church members had left, the pastor sat his son down, showed him the damage, and let him know why it was damage. Yuki began wailing in the middle of this, but his father continued to patiently and persistently tell him what he had done. After that, the rest of their family went back upstairs (home) and Yuki and dad remained, clean up tools in hand. Yuki is three years old, so I know he wasn't actually helping so much. But the two went around side by side until all the marker was erased.
It's interesting to me that other people are often the first ones to confirm the fears in our head that we are not doing any good, or to confirm that our greatest efforts are actually increasing the mess instead of decreasing it. There is this truth that we as Christians have to come face to face with at some point: God does not need us.
Some of us stop there. Some refuse to believe it and stake their entire identity on the fact that they are needed by God...their ministry looks frantic, and they have a lot to lose if something goes wrong. Others hear they are not needed and drop out of the game altogether...if God doesn't need them, what's the point? Still others understand but not fully...they feel a contradiction between the truth that God doesn't need them and the truth that God calls them to obedience. Fear of God and failing keeps them "in line", but they haven't understood the whole picture.
The truth is that God wants us with him. I believe we can make him smile. The Bible tells us he rejoices over us, and the Hebrew for that word actually means "spins around in circles". I love to think about God getting all "improper" and spinning around in circles of joy over the little actions, the small prayers, the heroic sacrifices of a moment that are made in his name. He knows we make messes sometimes, but isn't that what being a kid is? I remember another time when one of Aaron's daughters was upset and she cried to him, "But you're the dad, and that means you can fix it!" Human dads can't fix everything. But our heavenly Dad really can and does bring all things around for good. Often by handing us the cleaning supplies and cheerfully saying, "Let's get to work. I've got just the thing for this stain."
-It was our annual meeting and a very heated discussion was going on. Something to do with how many people are on the church council, whether we are mistreating people by electing them over and over again, etc. One of those times when everyone has gotten very serious. In the middle of it all, Aaron's daughter Cassidy started drawing a picture on the white board. She didn't know Aaron was watching her, but in the middle of all this debating, he was distracted completely from the task at hand. Just looking at his daughter's art with a smile. Sometimes, it doesn't seem like other people are recognizing our work, but often I think God is watching it, secretly and silently from behind us so as not to distract us, but with a huge grin on His face.
-After the meeting, we came out to the office to discover that the pastor's son had been doing some "art" of his own. That is to say, there were now permanent marker "signatures" all over the chairs, desks and table. Once most of the church members had left, the pastor sat his son down, showed him the damage, and let him know why it was damage. Yuki began wailing in the middle of this, but his father continued to patiently and persistently tell him what he had done. After that, the rest of their family went back upstairs (home) and Yuki and dad remained, clean up tools in hand. Yuki is three years old, so I know he wasn't actually helping so much. But the two went around side by side until all the marker was erased.
It's interesting to me that other people are often the first ones to confirm the fears in our head that we are not doing any good, or to confirm that our greatest efforts are actually increasing the mess instead of decreasing it. There is this truth that we as Christians have to come face to face with at some point: God does not need us.
Some of us stop there. Some refuse to believe it and stake their entire identity on the fact that they are needed by God...their ministry looks frantic, and they have a lot to lose if something goes wrong. Others hear they are not needed and drop out of the game altogether...if God doesn't need them, what's the point? Still others understand but not fully...they feel a contradiction between the truth that God doesn't need them and the truth that God calls them to obedience. Fear of God and failing keeps them "in line", but they haven't understood the whole picture.
The truth is that God wants us with him. I believe we can make him smile. The Bible tells us he rejoices over us, and the Hebrew for that word actually means "spins around in circles". I love to think about God getting all "improper" and spinning around in circles of joy over the little actions, the small prayers, the heroic sacrifices of a moment that are made in his name. He knows we make messes sometimes, but isn't that what being a kid is? I remember another time when one of Aaron's daughters was upset and she cried to him, "But you're the dad, and that means you can fix it!" Human dads can't fix everything. But our heavenly Dad really can and does bring all things around for good. Often by handing us the cleaning supplies and cheerfully saying, "Let's get to work. I've got just the thing for this stain."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)