Joy in Tokyo

"There's nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered." ~Nelson Mandela

When I returned to the States two years ago, it seemed that this quotation was always in my head. Fitting into American culture, or being useful, or appearing loving seemed absolutely impossible. I feared a little as I crossed the ocean back to Japan that it would be true again.

We spent our first two weeks in Japan in Fukushima, which is where we will be living. This past week, God blessed us with a trip back to Tokyo, my old stomping grounds. Joel will be in Tokyo until July 9th getting training to be an English teacher. I get to stay with him in Tokyo until my English company calls me back to Fukushima for visa or teaching purposes (so, it could be tomorrow or not until Joel comes back on the 9th).

This quotation has been in my head again as I've wandered around Tokyo for the first time in two years. Not because it describes me this time, but because of how markedly it doesn't. I feel as though I've been reunited with the Pamela I lost when I crossed the ocean last time. The one who is passionate, extroverted-ish, and warmly loving. (I have many flaws too, but these stayed with me when I crossed the ocean, so I didn't need to reclaim them. ;) ) The past week in Tokyo has been a time to rest by remembering.

Over the past few days I've sat around meals with a few of my dearest friends from the Hongo. Etsuko was still as fiery as Japanese women come, speaking passionately about her hopes that our student center would result in baptisms and in people coming to know Jesus. We got to sit and brainstorm how to keep their ministry alive if funds are cut. Ken quietly and sincerely talked about his hopes for the future. All of them questioned Joel about when he knew he wanted to marry me and what he liked about me--I think it was the fiercest interrogation the poor guy has received during our relationship.

A past student, one who came very close to being baptized, ate with Joel and I later. At one point he had seemed very open to Christianity, and then suddenly something had changed. He had been at every church activity, and then suddenly he vanished. Conversations about God that he had hungered for suddenly seemed an unbearable strain to him. I hadn't known if I would see him again. But Joel and I got to sit with him and hear about his life. He's in the same stage as many friends from the last time around, which is trying to pass major exams that will qualify him for his desired job. I think he's busy enough that he won't think much about God for the time being, but being able to encourage him, gently remind him about God, and reconnect was a blessing.

This afternoon, I got to sit with another friend for a few hours, and the conversation has left me just bubbling over. My dear friend Ayumi was baptized a little more than a year ago, and I hadn't heard from her since then. I emailed her to find out we could meet, and it turned out that God carved out about three hours in her busy medical residency life for us to see each other. We both rejoiced in the miracle of time. I got to hear her whole story about how she came to be baptized. She has always been a joyful person, but hearing her express joy about God instead of doubt was amazing. Some people convert because other people convince them to, but Ayumi shared a story that was one of those, "I came because I met Him" type stories. I cannot express the joy that I feel at seeing God call Japanese people to be rock-solid for Him.

Also, as Ayumi is possibly becoming an ob/gyn, so we were able to talk about childbirth in Japan and America, and doulas in Japan. It sounds like it might even be possible for me to work as a doula if I were in Tokyo. So, not now, but maybe someday. I was greatly encouraged by this.

In addition to childbirth, we talked about abortion in Japan, and possible Christian responses. I'm super passionate, though I haven't had the chance to live the passion out, about ministries that counter abortion not through political tyrades, but through supporting the expecting mothers. Ministries that are both truthful and merciful. Abortion is not an often discussed subject in Japan, but Ayumi confirmed much of what I suspected. There are many, many abortions performed here. I was surprised to learn that the biggest group is not teenagers or college students, however, but women in their 40s. Ayumi suspected that affairs (she said it more subtly and gracefully than that) might be the reason for it. We didn't come to many conclusions about how a ministry might reach these women, as the abortion is usually kept ultra-secret, but being able to begin to brainstorm possibilities brought so many things I'm passionate about together. I would need Japanese about 5000 times better than my current Japanese to do anything with a ministry like this, so maybe now this will remain just something to pray about. But I hope someday I can do more.

The hard part of being in Tokyo is realizing how different it is from Fukushima. I'm very excited to have the opportunity to serve God in a place where people are scared, and hope that by being there I'll be able to share some of the peace God has given me when facing things like death (and radiation, and earthquakes). But the journey into Fukushima is a journey even deeper into Japanese culture. I had no idea how much I ministered in English until this trip back to Tokyo. It suddenly makes sense why the amount and level of Japanese needed in Fukushima has been a bit overwhelming. And then there are simple little things like the fact that all the food in Fukushima seems to be Japanese. Tokyo, which once seemed so homogeneous, suddenly has turned into a diverse city in my mind. There are ethnic restaurants here. On a bigger scale for me personally, Tokyo is diverse enough that I could possible continue to pursue my doula career while living in Japan.

But really...language barriers, and getting used to new levels of Japanese eating are smaller barriers than they seem. And while it hurts to give up the immediate chance to work comforting mothers who are delivering babies, God has blessed us with many things in Fukushima too. There is a "pre-assembled" Christian community. We've been praying many times a week with Haidee, Cindy, and the Nomuras--all old friends and people I love seeking God alongside. I've also learned that traveling to a new city with a husband is drastically less lonely that appearing somewhere new all alone.

Then there is the feeling that I can't operate or communicate at the needed level to reach people in Fukushima as I want to--truly, this is the same feeling that led me to fall on God in Tokyo at the beginning of my ministry there. But God transformed it: it is so clear now that I am back in Tokyo after two years. God has done and is still doing much in the lives of the Japanese people I came to love. That initial feeling of inadequacy led to God showing me that Tokyo, and my ministry here, with all its weaknesses, could be holy with His presence. Perhaps inadequacy is the place that all true ministry flows out of: that realization that God's plans are impossible for anyone but Him to carry out, but somehow He has invited us along to be His body anyway.

Joel and I are still waiting in many ways...waiting for visas, waiting for His vision for how He wants us to serve in Fukushima, waiting to see what dear friends He will bring into our lives this time around. But I am strengthened as I remember what God has done before. And strengthened to learn that sometimes, when you return to a place that remains unchanged, you find old parts of yourself that you desperately hoped were still alive.

One Hundred Thousand Changes

I don't know how many people read this blog who don't know about what is going on with me already. It's been awhile since I've had words to update. Here are the cliff notes:

In January, God told Joel and I that we would go back to Japan this year. We believed Him just enough to think about it for a couple weeks and then continue with life as normal.

In February, I decided to take a doula training course and experiment with the career path of helping moms birth babies. The Christian community house and I prayed about whether to stay together after Joel and I got married.

In March, "the big one" hit Japan. Wedding preparations seemed to take over life. But the question hung behind the busyness...would this earthquake mean that God actually was going to send us back to Japan this year?

On April 2nd, Joel and I got married. :D

We drove to the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee and had a lovely time of a honeymoon. And, on the way, got an email from a good missionary friend. She was seeking Christians who would fill English teaching positions in Fukushima City and praying that God would send witnesses and build Christian community there.

Despite all of my longing to go to Japan, I found myself wrestling a lot before I could say 'yes'. It was hard to imagine how my single missionary life and my new married life would come together. And was it best to put this kind of pressure on our relationship right at the beginning of our marriage?

Our car broke down while Joel and I were avoiding the questions. We got it to a shop, and a repairman drove us to a park where we walked in circles, laid in the grass, watched the river flow, and asked each other what we thought about this opportunity for the three hours while our car was fixed. We realized that, while we had much to be afraid and worried about, we had seen little to show us that God was *not* calling us to Japan, and much to suggest that He was. Surrender together as a couple is a pretty cool thing.

I think for awhile I thought having a husband would mean that there would be someone who would pull me along...someone who would ease the burden when those hard surrender moments come so that I didn't have to dig deep into my unwillingness and turn my heart over to the Living God. Not that I ever would have said it in words like that. I more would have said, "I want him to encourage me! And be bold in following Jesus to draw out my own boldness and courage!" But then, there is the realization that it is somehow sweeter to be scared together and to lay our lives in His hands, neither one of us knowing or understanding fully what it will mean.

May has given us quite a few more curve balls, which I don't seem to have words for right now, but all of those aside, we are flying to Japan on June 13th. We'll be living and working in Fukushima City, which is a little bit outside of the evacuation zone from the nuclear power plant. We've both been in touch with a different English school, and are working out the final details to be employed.

It's kind of funny to think about Joel and I wandering through the park on our honeymoon, afraid of what might come. A chance to love on the Japanese people during one of the greatest trials they've known. A chance to live our own lives and struggles towards God, not only because I need His goodness and provision in my life, but because I have the chance to show that to a people who are also much afraid, and whose lives have also been shaken. A chance to continue watering the seeds in Japan I have already sown and prayed over. A chance to shake my heart out of the complacency of ordinary life and back into a life where the need for urgent prayer is right in front of my face. A chance to see God's light shining in darkness, yet again.

I cannot help but smile. God is good.