Listening

I think I'm getting a better sense of what it means to listen to God, to hear His voice. Lately all I do is make tons of individual decisions and overanalyze the possible outcomes. Choosing a new apartment, shopping for an entire new set of furniture, planning events like bridal showers or parts of weddings... It is easy to dwell on everything and get bogged down by "what if's" after the fact.

There is the fear that I'll make bad decisions - I am often terrified of my own inadequacy. But in doing so I am overestimating my own importance, and miss the fact that God is more than adequate. In my weakness, He is strong. And then I'm anxiously praying to God that He will part the clouds and in a thundering voice declare to me which apartment complex I should choose to live in, or at worst which TV model I should pick. (Hey, I want to be a good financial steward lol) Here I am, trying to pick the "right" answer off a list of multiple choice options. But it's all an exercise in learning to be content, and knowing that God is a powerful God who doesn't need me to pick a specific, particular choice for Him to work for my good.

In my grad school fellowship, there were two wonderful girls who always seemed to be speaking directly with God. This always cracks me up because they would announce to the group that God had given them a strong conviction and told them certain very specific things, and in my ridiculousness I would think in my head, "Ahhh!! I'm such a heathen, how come God is speaking so clearly to them but I can't hear His directions??" I felt like I was in one of those Peanuts cartoons where the adults would speak and all the viewers would hear was "WOOmp WOOOOOMP womp WOMPPPP" hahaha. "Excuse me, can you speak more clearly?"

I knew in my heart that God had called me to Japan, and I went, but while I was there I wasn't 100% sure why I was there. I felt like I wasn't getting enough done. My typical tunnel-visioned self thinks, "Aghh! Let's get some more bulldozers in here, we need to get more done!!" and then I feel disappointed and useless. But hearing O-uchi san thank us for coming all the way to Japan and showing them intangible, emotional encouragement proves to me again that all along God does know best and He is working for good even when I can't see it right away.

Sometimes God shouts, sometimes He murmurs. Whatever the case, there are few things that can match the joy and relief that comes from understanding that God's perfect plan always prevails.

Now what XD

And now I'm back at home on the East Coast a week after getting back to the U.S., solidly in the thick of helping with wedding planning and making arrangements for moving to my new apartment. It's so easy to get swept up in what is going on over here and become distanced from everything that happened Over There. But Here is not less important than There, and I'm learning to be at peace and trying my best wherever I am.

Thanks to the Internet, it's easier than ever to keep up to date with the other side of the world. Teams are coming and going. I'm still praying for CRASH regularly. I was so filled with joy to read the following update about Mr. O-uchi, whose farm our team helped clean:

"...[O-uchi-san] went into the green house and pulled weeds with us. He seemed at peace with the fact that he'll be able to farm again -I think at one point he believed he was never going to farm again. Before we left, we took pictures and [a team member] asked if he could shake O-uchi san's hand and then went in for a hug. O-uchi san was moved by this action and was teary-eyed. We firmly believe O-uchi san will come to acknowledge God's power."

I can only echo the sentiments of the wonderful girl who shared that update with me: "I'm so blessed that God allowed me to be a part of His will."

Followup

Coming back from the disaster area in Sendai was a little jarring. First of all, leaving base camp was an affair - we said goodbye to all our new friends, which was sad and also odd. We had just met them less than four days earlier, but we were so sad to part! We hugged, posed for photos, and exchanged contact info. On our last day, a new team (from Singapore) arrived just in time for praise & worship. Right afterwards we left, and it felt like we were tag teaming... At base camp the teams come and go, and I was filled with a sense of insignificance XD This whole experience has made me feel like an ant in God's kingdom, but an army of ants can carry a lot.

After getting back to Tokyo, I had four days left before I went back to the States. I felt a bit overwhelmed - wrapping up some documentation in the office regarding the trip to Sendai and saying goodbye to all the new friends in the house I stayed in. I only lived there for a week and a half, but a week and a half of late nights sharing and talking had created tight bonds. Some last minute bonding - we went to a baseball game (Seibu Lions), had yakiniku (Japanese bbq), and went karaoking with some coworkers. I felt so blessed - I never could have imagined that in venturing to Japan for these two weeks I would meet so many wonderful new friends who would make me feel so surrounded by family. I was sad to leave them but I feel like I will see them again.

Two major takeaways that I didn't "take away" until a week afterwards:

1) God is enough. I really struggled with how a loving God could "stand by" while people suffer and lose their entire life's possessions. Of course God mourns with us when we mourn, and loss is loss... but ultimately our God is more than enough for what we need. When our possessions are stripped away, we realize how fully God provides for our needs and perhaps we are less likely to idolize these material possessions. This is a chance to develop rock solid faith. I think about the photo of the Seaside Chapel's cross standing tall while everything around it has crumbled. (Day 7, bottom-most photo). It is emblematic of how amid the disaster and hurt, the hope found in Jesus Christ stands tall.

2) Let go and let God. (Shocker XD If I had a nickel for every time I've heard that expression... lol) Honestly, I spent a good amount of time at CRASH in self-doubt, wondering if I was helping things or harming things. One of my biggest struggles is feeling inadequate for being used by God. How could God use someone as flawed as me to do good things? However - this is a fallacy that threatens to keep me paralyzed and inactive. Do I really believe that God is not an almighty God who can work even through my mistakes? Is the sum of my individual decisions larger than the God of the universe? This is not to say that I should sprint forward without regard to my surroundings or those who surround me. However I realized that in worrying and stressing out about the consequences of my own actions I was failing to place my trust in God. God gave us free will so we could make our own choices. I will make my own choices and trust that He is ultimately the one who decides.

Japan Missions - Day 10 (Mr. Oouchi's house)

Following the previous day's intensity, today seems like a breeze. Today we are at Mr. Oouchi's home helping clean up. Things are messy, but there are no dead fish or maggots like yesterday. I spent the day before wondering if we were really accomplishing anything and if my coming here was a really a good use of resources.

And then we're able to sit down and talk to Mr. Oouchi, and my perspective shifts. Mr. Oouchi is a part-time fireman. When the tsunami came, he drove around in his truck shouting and warning others. He stood on the top of his truck shouting. The wave hit, and he rode his truck on the wave to his house. He rescued his dog, a chiba inu, on his way to the roof of his house. It was four days before he was able to get in touch with his wife. His fields are clogged with salt from the ocean and can't grow things for another year until the salt washes away, and his family members are now depressed. And yet here he is, sitting with us and answering our questions candidly. I ask for permission to take a photo of his calendar, which has stopped on March 11th. "Sure! Go ahead, that is certainly when time stopped, isn't it." He is so friendly and chipper, the kind of Japanese person who helped me so many times during my year in Japan. He politely tries our American snack, even though he doesn't particularly enjoy it lol.

At the end, he takes a group photo with us, and he has us sign our names in a guestbook of sorts that he is keeping. He thanks us for coming, and says that it means a lot that we have come from so far to help. It is the same thing that a local utility worker told my team leader after the fish house cleanup: "You came in spite of everything." At a time when many Japanese feel forgotten, and foreigners have fled the country amid radiation fears, the presence of foreigners come from far away to help is a great sign of encouragement. The fact that we have come shows that they have not been forgotten.

Our work is an offering to God - we should rejoice in the privilege of serving God and be thankful. Our God is a God of details and infinite wisdom - our vision is limited, and we don't know how what we do affects others. For certain, I know I have been changed and humbled so much by this experience. I am learning to shake this hero mentality, a messianic complex ... none of us can save the world. Only Jesus can =)

Japan Missions - Day 9 (Fish House)

Every morning we do devotionals. A girl from the California team shares about how she was tempted to measure her productivity and become frustrated when the numbers are low, but we won't earn our way to heaven. It is so important to simply have peace and delight in His presence.

I reflect that being here, volunteering with a Christian organization, is living solidly in a Christian bubble. It is so easy to dwell on God's goodness all the time, because everyone else around me is Christian. I think about how being in the workplace is the opposite, and hiding faith is the norm. It's hard to maintain faith when you're constantly hiding it from view. It's easy to forget it's there when it's out of sight.

As I'm dwelling on how easy I have it here, our team goes to help clean out a house in Ishinomaki that hasn't been touched in the three months since the disaster. When we get out of the car, the stench is overwhelming. There are flies everywhere. We put on masks and goggles, but it is still nauseating. We go inside the house where it is humid and stuffy, and it looks like there was a landslide inside the house. There are dead fish everywhere - on the roof, on the shelf, and the owner's personal belongings. Fortunately, the owner made it out safely, but is not coming back. We've been called in to help clear away the stench because the next door neighbors are staying.

The bright spot of the day is breaking bread with the other church, a group from Korea. I have a very confusing conversation with one of the elder members, who only sort of speaks English lol I only know a few Korean nouns that mostly didn't come up in our conversation haha. No worries, showing God's love is the best form of communication! They serve us their homemade noodles. We offer them our convenience store bought bentos. We got a better trade. It’s such a blessing to see God’s children serving each other. I feel a little bad to have them serving us their food, but they are so generous and are genuinely hosting us out of their kindness of their hearts. We all just met today, but we are all on the same team.



By the evening I've had a little more time to process the day's events, and I realize that I am solidly bummed out. I volunteer to share a prayer request, and before I know it my voice is breaking and I am all out crying in front of everyone. What a loser. XD But hey, God made me this way. I can't even watch other people cry without tearing up. I am overwhelmed by seeing the destruction, the slow pace at which recovery takes place (it takes 20 of us swarming all over one house for a full day to help the situation, but how many houses like there are there across Japan?) I am emotionally drained by picking personal belongings out of rubble all day, seeing maggots crawling across rotting objects, and comprehending what is like to have one's life as you know it suddenly wiped away. Sure these are material objects, but we grieve with those who grieve, and loss is loss. I apologize later to my team leader for crying, but he says, "I'm glad you can cry, because I can't cry anymore."

Japan Mission - Day 8 (At Sendai Base Camp)

Camp Morigo Base Camp is in the middle of the woods, as it used to be a retreat center. It is beautiful. Recently, a retreat for pastors was held here so they could have a break from the stress they've been dealing with. When we arrive there, three other teams are already there - a local Japanese team, a German team, and an American team. In total there are probably 50-some people.

Today I wake up all raring to go, but it ends up raining so all work is called off for the day. I feel ridiculous – we came here to serve, and instead it turns out… we are kind of just hanging out at the base camp. And eating awesome food. And learning German words from the German team, words which I promptly forget after saying them. Our day passes spending quality time with another team here, a team from California.

I sit in on a meeting between base management staff here and visiting other base management. It is so important for CRASH to maintain its relationship with the local churches, since that is its method of connecting with the locals who are in need of help. People call the churches when they need assistance. Helping victims is no simple matter - it is extremely important to be sensitive about the fact that some disaster victims are not using to seeing foreigners in their small fishing villages, and it can be disconcerting. On the other hand, some Japanese are more likely to receive the gospel when it is presented to them by a foreigner.

6pm is debriefing and praise and worship. We sing “Shout to the Lord,” and the people here sing in three different languages – Japanese, German, and English. We all sing at the same time, but it doesn’t matter, God understands all of us. He is truly a God of the nations. Prayer time is trilingual – the person speaking is translated by two translators in a quiet murmur. It’s like being at the United Nations headquarters.

There is a little aftershock in the morning, and a pretty big aftershock in the evening during dinner. We are eating dinner when the room starts to shake. The woman next to me, who is stationed at the base for the summer, says one of the biggest ones they’ve experienced. After dinner there is a card game with Germans and Japanese, but apparently Uno transcends any language barriers =)

Japan Missions - Day 7 (Heading up to Sendai)

We got the okay to go and then it was time to get ready. The girls in the CRASH house are so generous, lending me all the things I don't have. (Hat, long sleeved shirts, long pants, sleeping bag...) They send me off with a prayer. It turns out Marisa and Jordan, two of the individual volunteers at HQ who joined our team, spent a lot of time in Sendai since their family owns a vacation home at the beach there. They are the perfect addition to our team since they both grew up in Japan and speak Japanese. Praise the Lord.

On our way up to Camp Morigo in Sendai, the epicenter of the earthquake, the rest stop looks pretty normal, but the presence of Japanese military is our first clue that things aren't like they were. They are walking around in their camouflage uniforms. We pass through Fukushima Prefecture, and a thought runs through my head - uhm... are we close to the Fukushima nuclear disaster site? ...Oh well. Already here.

It's a long drive from Tokyo to Sendai (five hours), and I'm a little sleepy when we arrive in Sendai where the tsunami hit. I bolt wide awake when I open my eyes - I can't believe the devastation around me. Cars are shriveled and flattened, upside down, houses look like their walls have all been punched out by some angry giant. The only word for this is "ravaged." In the rubble there is everything - a trombone, pages from photo albums, tea cups, a bottle of tea... I want to cry but I don't (somehow it doesn't feel real), and instead I feel nauseated.







We pull up to the former location of the Seaside Chapel in Sendai, and miraculously the church's cross was still upright after the disaster. (To be fair, it was a little crooked, but still upright.)



I wonder if we're allowed to be here, do we look like disaster tourists? Our team leader says no, people are allowed to come. Some people are looking for their belongings. We have a CRASH sticker on our rental car. Bulldozers are doing cleanup, but from where I'm watching, it looks like a snail's pace. The bulldozers, relatively few of them, swing slowly from one pile to the other, sorting individual pieces of scrap. Good grief, this is going to take forever.