がんばって

Back when I was in middle school and part way through high school I was really quite reserved. I've never liked to call myself shy, but I was certainly more quiet and reserved than I am now. When it came time to stand in front of the class and give a presentation my nerves always got the best of me. With bright red face, sweaty palms, and rapid speaking I'd make it through. I always knew that really in the long run it didn't matter, but I couldn't convince myself of this enough to really calm down.

Somewhere along the way on this journey toward adulthood, I broke through they shyness. Sure I'm still rather quiet, but I'm not all that shy...I just don't feel the need to fill space with talk all the time. I'm incredibly thankful for how God has changed me to make me less self conscious and more confident. During my last year of undergrad I had to take a communications class. If I had taken that class freshmen year, I would have hated it, but by the time I got around to taking it I realized that one it didn't matter if I made a fool of myself, and two I could do a decent job of speaking in front of people.

Today I somehow reverted to my old self. Japanese class intimidates me like none other. Today we gave speeches in Japanese. When I woke up this morning I thought to myself, it doesn't matter. I will stand confidently before the class and stumble through the Japanese with grace, I am an adult and I no longer have to get nervous about these things. A few hours before class began I lost control of these logical ideas and became incredibly nervous. I had practiced enough to know I could read all the words, but my short two page speech took me nearly 10 minutes to read through! There was a realization that I would be standing in front of a silent class, slowly stumbling through words that some class members could breeze through.

Walking into the classroom I kept reminding myself to take deep breathes, it would be over before I knew it and would have no greater impact on my life. I tried to grasp the fact that it really didn't matter in life even if I completely botched the whole thing and bored the class to death. I sat down at the table and tried to relax. A kind Japanese woman, a teacher, sat next to me and tried to make conversation. Then my Japanese/Spanish speaking friend from church walked in. He doesn't attend class, but his dad does and I guess he came to watch. I couldn't decide if this was good or bad... on the one hand he would witness me working on my Japanese...whenever he asks me what I learned in Japanese class I have no response because I don't have the language skill in Japanese or Spanish to tell him. On the other hand, he would be witness to me stepping into the shoes of a child stumbling through their phonics book. Ashley, Drew, and Josh witness this every Wednesday, and then we talk in English and they are still aware that I'm an intelligent human being. It's humbling when you have no way of demonstrating intelligence through language and there are times when you simply must let whatever assumption about you be what it is.

After a painful waiting period the speeches began. We went around the room and I was near the end. I listened to some speak with ease and others struggle. When it came to me I didn't feel quite as intimidated, but still could not keep my face from flushing a raspberry red, or my hands from shaking my papers. The beginning of my speech went pretty smoothly and then it was simply a matter of forcing myself forward. My mind would start to tell me that I wasn't going to make it, that I'd forget how to pronounce the word, but I wouldn't let myself dwell on it and just kept reading regardless of if I said something a bit funny. I made it to the end, sat down, and allowed all my muscles relax into a state of utter exhaustion.

Today I spoke more Japanese than I ever have in my life. I said coherent sentences though I'm not certain of the meaning of some. This was an accomplishment.

Being humbled is healthy. Character building I think. I'm glad I gave the speech, and I think I'm even glad the experience felt so humbling.

My speech!

Our class book of everyone's speeches.

Walking to work in the snow.

Dear Snow,

I am writing to inform you that our relationship has changed. When we were kids I always trusted your gentle flakes. You’d cancel school and gather all my friends to play. Sometimes you’d come for just a minute, to remind me of your beauty and purity, and when you really came for a visit, you’d stay at least one day, but lately I’ve noticed you’ve changed.

This year each time you come, you disappoint me. The first time you came it was like you were taunting me. I walked with you to work that evening and then you just up and left. I figured you’d be back for some more quality time later on, so I didn’t mind cleaning up after you the next morning. The second time you came was worse. Your flakes falling heavy on the wet ground, quickly turning to brown dirty mud. Why’d you even bother? I didn’t even try to hope for a day off from work, playing with you. But this last time was the worst. You were just so darn cold. Last night when you showed up, I didn’t even bother going out. I didn’t bother looking at you. The way you’ve been taunting, I didn’t want to see you, but you stayed outside my door. You called my friends out into your beauty and so I gave in to you once again.

You were so enticing sitting on the trees, covering the dirty ground with your brilliant white, sparkling surface. Last night it was like we were kids again. I was bundled in warmth with you and my friends, frolicking in the freedom you’d created. Last night I left you at the door trusting I’d see your gentle flakes in the morning. Trusting you’d do like old times and get me a day off to play with you, but you were so very rude. Leaving in the middle of the night like that. Leaving me with a mess to shovel up in the morning. Cold, dirty, slush for me to tromp through. I’m loosing faith.

If you come again, don’t let me down. You must make your visit longer. Give me at least one day of real, quality snow time, because my trust in you is wavering.

Sincerely,

Sara

Fear Not

I think one of my greatest sins may be my tendency to allow fear to creep into my life. I look at God's faithfulness in my past, I look at His word, and I see that there is absolutely no reason for me not to trust him, and yet I find myself once again moving in fear.

Many of you now know of my plans for this coming year. While I have thoroughly enjoyed being in Japan and am confident that it was where God wanted me for this time, I feel led back to Southern California this coming fall. After moving to Japan I came to a place where I seriously considered the possibility of a God calling me to this place long term, but what I ended up with was a very strong sense that this was meant to be only for a short time. The Lord has been preparing me for some time to be in a place where I can be a voice for those not usually heard--a voice of hope, a voice of unity, a voice of love--and at this point God seems to be suggesting that that place is in Southern California. So it is with confidence in God's direction that I begin to prepare for the transition back. Initially I felt excitement. My last year in SoCal the Lord proved faithful as he provided for me in school, work, and relationships. It wasn't until then that I had ever even considered staying in SoCal.

When I left for Japan, I left believing that the Lord would provide for me here. I wasn't sure of my financial situation, and I wasn't sure I'd make substantial friendships, but I chose to trust. I now sit utterly overwhelmed by God's provisions. Exceeding, abundantly, beyond what I can ask or imagine is what Ephesians says. I think I understand a little of what that means. I have hardly been lonely here at all, having people that are always here to listen and process with me. That's more than I can say for many periods of my life, where I learned to count loneliness as a bit of a blessing that forces me to hold tightly to Jesus. I am supposed to be making pennies, but again, God has provided for me beyond my expectations, and allowed me to take what he gives and share. I've said it before, but the words just don't do this justice...I am SO very very blessed!

So how is it that I can find myself in this place again, this place where I fear what is to come? I doubt my ability to fulfill what God is calling me to, and I fear I will not find again the blessings God has given. A few days ago it just hit me that eventually I am leaving. All of a sudden there was this weight of sadness realizing all that I will leave here. There are friends here that simply won't ever be replaced. There is excitement and adventure here that is specific to this place. I have felt a peace and rest that I hadn't experienced in a long time and I doubt my ability to find it when I return. But how foolish I am to think that after all this, all this preparation, that God would just leave me to suddenly fend for myself. Yes it will be different, and in a sense I will need to start over, but the only thing that has made this experience so sweet, is God's presence in it. I must choose to trust that the Lord will continue to provide for me. I must trust that even if things turn out completely differently from any of my expectations, that is only for the better because if God is in control and leading, there is nothing better I could be doing. And so I will choose to release my fears and wait in excitement for whatever is next.

Now comes major fear number two. As much as I fear disappointment in the areas I already mentioned, a fear that I find much more difficult to release is a fear that I will not be able to fulfill what God is calling me to. I have always been drawn to students that other teachers would like to give up on. I desperately want to convince students of their worth and capabilities. I want them to experience love in a way that they never have. I want them know me as someone who refuses to give up on them because I care too much about them to let anything, even themselves, get in the way of them recognizing their value. I want to say this to the kids that don't hear it, in the schools so many teachers avoid. God has also spent the last several years revealing to me the depths of prejudices and racism in the US and I want to be a voice of unity and reconciliation. I want people to see that the love of Jesus does not divide or judge, it unifies and forgives. So as I've come to realize my need to return to SoCal, I also realize that when I return I must live intentionally. I don't want to just settle into a life of comfort an ease, I want to live a life like Jesus did. This idea seems nice. Whoopdeedoo. I can be an inspiration. Ha! See I have this vision and then I also see reality, and then the devil takes the reality I see and haunts me.

I question my ability to persevere through challenges. I question my ability to be heard as a genuine caring voice when my face screams white privilege, misunderstanding, and judgment. And I just flat out question my ability to be the teacher I want to be. Just a few days ago I was filling out part of an application for a school and when I asked a colleague for input, he pointed out how my answers didn't show a lot of faith in myself. That is because faith in myself is lacking. This isn't because I have failed in similar difficult situations in the past, it is just because I had let in all these stupid lies. The last couple years have been spent choosing to trust the Lord in various situations and reciting to myself that His strength is made perfect in my weakness. Man, I'm such a fool. If indeed I'm being called to work in these areas, then God will provide what I need, and if I do fall flat on my face, it is only because He has something else in mind and needed me to experience whatever kind of failure for some other reason.

Anyway....fear it's a sin I fall into. I'm tired of it. I am not to worry, He will provide, for His strength is made perfect in my weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly when I face trials of many kinds. When I am weak, then He is strong!

A Beautiful Blanket of White

Last weekend I went to the mountains with the church for a retreat. For the first time in my life, I was only moderately excited about visiting the snow. I've always loved the snow (as something to play in, and something that puts life on pause when it comes to Portland), but after months of feeling constantly cold, the idea of being in a colder place with snow, wasn't as appealing as it's been in the past. However, I had nothing else to do over the weekend and figured, if nothing more, it'd be a good time to hang out with people I usually just see briefly. So I packed layers and joined the group for a short trip to the mountains.

Every so often I decide that I ought to do something that stretches me. Last year I learned to Scuba dive which is something that pretty much terrified me. I think one of the worst ways to die would be by drowning, so the idea of being a number of feet underwater, breathing through a tube, just didn't sound fun to me. Turns out, it is quite enjoyable though. Anyway, living in Japan for the year I've ended up doing lots of things that are stretching, but one thing that I've always kind of avoided is skiing. A couple years ago I went cross-country skiing, but I've never really wanted to go down hill skiing or snowboarding. Speeding down a hill, out of control, I find quite horrifying. It probably doesn't help that I had a previous encounter with a tree while on snowmobile. Anyway, before the retreat I was talking with my friend Nao and she told me that she wanted to try skiing, so I decided I should make an attempt at conquering my fear, and agreed to do it with her.

We arrived at the mountain for the retreat on Friday evening. Lots of beautiful white and a nice warm lodge place. It even has an onsen (Japanese hot spring bath)...delightful. We played games, ate a tasty meal, and had some time of Bible study. I went to bed early and woke up ready to head to the slopes. Once I got in the car my excitement turned to extreme nervousness and I began asking myself why on earth I was going to go do this. Well by that time it was simply too late to change my mind so I "ganbare"ed (worked hard-persevered) and just went with it. Rented my skis and got told by the rental guy that I had on too many layers and would get hot. It was really pretty funny. I'd done something wrong with my boots so he came to show me something and then went to put my snow pants on the outside of my boot, but realized then that underneath that water proof shell was three additional layers :) I was determined to stay warm. Anyway, got my gear and then accompanied Nao, and Angel and Jonathan (our senseis) to the bunny slope. Jonathan showed me how to put my skis on, told me about turning and stopping and then led me onto the tiny little hill. White knuckled I held onto those poles and gritted my teeth. You know what? I didn't die. We worked our way up to slightly steeper hills, went on the lift, and picked up some speed, and I didn't die!!! I actually didn't fall much, and once I realized I could somewhat control my speed and direction I had a lot of fun! I got a lot of funny looks from people when I first started, probably because the look on my face must have been pretty interesting as I was muttering cuss words to myself hoping I could slow down the rate of speed was I gaining. Eventually though, I was able to relax a bit. I still don't know what I'd do on longer, bigger slopes, but in general, I think I can say I got over my fear.

I also realized in the midst of this all that my Japanese is improving! It's still terrible, but I was sort of talking with my friend Angel who speaks Japanese and Spanish, and I realized that we were talking in about an equal amount of Japanese and Spanish. Now when I say talking, what I really mean is Angle was talking and doing all sorts of crazy charades teaching me Japanese and Spanish, and I would respond with wakarimasu (I understand) or wakaranai (I don't understand) but communication occurred, and I understood more Japanese then I used to. It's quite fun attempting this kind of communication.

Too eclectic...untitleable...

I've had an enjoyable last few days. Not too long ago, it was actually warm outside. Now, I'm not sure what temperature now tells my body I'm warm, but I do know that I was outside without my jacket! It was amazing! Oh, these long winter months, I'd forgotten the feeling of the warm sunshine on my skin. A couple friends and I rode our bikes to the river and then just walked around soaking up the warmth. I couldn't stop smiling. Sunshine makes me happy. It was also rather interesting because there was one spot near the river where there had been a small homeless community. There were fort-like structures, mostly collapsed, made out of logs. It actually reminded me a lot of the beach in Oregon that my family visits. When I was a kid, I'd build forts out of driftwood. But these weren't forts to play in, they were homes. It's interesting here because a lot of times I hear about how the Japanese homeless are different. I hear that they didn't really used to exist before the economy crisis, or how some of them prefer homelessness because there are fewer demands and less pressure, or something like that. I'm not sure what I think of this. Maybe it is true. Maybe returning to a simpler way of life is what homelessness can be here, and indeed some prefer to be homeless. Maybe, but I'm not so sure. It is possibly that a small percentage of the homeless just decided one day to be homeless and escape the typical cares of the world, but I have a feeling that the majority did not choose to be homeless. When I saw this deserted community, my heart broke, and what I saw was a connection in humanity. U.S. or Japan, there are the same struggles and the same pain.

Back to happy thoughts, yesterday was some sort of national holiday. I'm not sure what was celebrated; all I know is that I had the day off. It was superb. I slept in a bit, though not so late that I felt I'd wasted my morning, and then I just got some work done for the online class I'm taking. The house was quiet, and the work wasn't too difficult. I then decided it was time to bring back the old coffee shop way; the coffee shop way in which I buy a cup of coffee and then sit at the table for hours with a book or a friend or both and just slow down and relax. The other day I complained to my friend about the lack of coffee shops here and how it was going to be detrimental to my study habits in my class because that is simply how I study, and my friend reminded me that there is a coffee shop/bakery in the department store near our house. So I took my roommate and my book and spent a few hours mostly chatting, little reading actually occurred, in this peaceful place filled with the aroma of fresh bread and coffee. It was delightful. However, the coffee wasn't very good.

The second part of my holiday involved a concert in the city. One of my friends is hugely into music, randomly breaks out into song all the time, songs of various genres mind you, and he told me he was going to a concert with a group of friends. Deciding this sounded like a fun Japanese experience, I didn't even bother to ask what type of music and agreed to go along. Back when I lived in Portland I had a couple friends I used to go to small concerts with. We'd go see the bands that were something unique on their way to becoming cool. The venues were always small, you could usually hang out and talk with the band after if you wanted to, and it was a lot of fun just being in that atmosphere. The concert yesterday was something similar except with a bit of Japanese flair. There were four or five bands, mostly falling under some sort of rock/punk category. The place was small, and terribly smoky, and a lot of fun. There was a band with a singer who'd had a bit too much sake, and a drummer that wasn't wearing normal attire, and there was an all girls punk (I think that would be the way to describe them) band whose lead singer was both hard core and very joyful at the same time who spit her water on everyone. Interesting variety. None of the bands were ones I'd listen to just for the heck of it, but they were great concert bands, providing music sufficient to let yourself get a bit lost in. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy an occasional concert like this.

On a totally different note, I started a class online a couple weeks ago. I've been surprised at my feelings of enjoyment. Last semester was the first semester I've not take a class, since I think I was about five. Being away from academic demands was very good, but also allowed me to realize that I actually do like to have a little structure that forces me to learn and process through information. There is also something to be said for taking a class that I actually have time to really invest in it, not to suggest I'm not still a terrible procrastinator. I've never taken a class that was not accompanied by other classes and all sorts of other business. It's a new experience. This class ought to be particularly interesting because it's a classroom research class. This is also my last class to be done. Woo hoo!

Let's see, some last thoughts. God is pretty much amazing. Blessed...I feel blessed all the time. I also tend to feel confused and uncertain and frustrated and torn, but underlying it all is a feeling of peace and hope and blessing. I have a very faithful God. He takes care of me. Not in the typical American dream style, but I think simply his gift of hope is a way that I'm taken care of. Also, it's been pretty cool being at Grace church and school and being able to invest in the youth of both places and coworkers, church members and friends. Sometimes God allows me insight on someone's life, either through them sharing or just general insight, and this usually leaves me feeling quite humbled. Being someone that somebody else allows in and allows you to carry maybe just a small part of their burden is a kind of gift. I'm so undeserving, not sure what made God allow me to take this role at times. Blessed. I am blessed.

Things you wouldn't know unless you live without central heating...

So many of you know that experiencing a Japanese winter has been a bit shocking for my SoCal acclimated body. Some of my very favorite things right now are my long underwear, my electric blanket, and my blanket sized scarf. I'm not quite sure how Japanese people do this winter after winter without central heating. Hypothetically it makes sense to only heat the room you are in, instead of wasting money heating the rest of the house while you aren't in it, but the implications of this are much more far reaching than you'd think. So I thought I might enlighten you.

When your space heater lives in the living room:
*Toothpaste gets very cold and is much harder to apply to your toothbrush.
*It is unnecessary to worry about putting dinner left overs away quickly for the kitchen is near the same temperature as the refrigerator.
*Motivation to do things such as laundry, involving being in an unheated part of the house for any length of time, is incredibly low.
*It is very difficult to thaw frozen foods by simply setting them out of the fridge.
*Nail polish becomes much thicker as it reaches temperatures near freezing.
*If you wish to ever leave the living room, slippers are essential.
*A heated toilet seat is no longer an awkward feeling, but a necessary one.
*Drinking a truly hot beverage is difficult unless sitting near the heater.
*Money spent on tissues increases due to the constant change between hot and cold between rooms causing a constant drippyness.
*My straightener beeps continuously when initially heating when it does not start at room temp.
*You no longer have to worry about keeping the front door open.
*Getting out of bed in the morning is beyond difficult, but it is very handy to keep a warm throw on top the bed to immediately wrap yourself in.
-I will likely add to this list in the future...

You know, Japan is not really all that cold compared to many places like Illinois or Minnesota, but when you live in the states you drive everywhere, no walking or biking in the frigid cold (a couple days ago I rode my bike while snow was falling to get to Japanese class). Then when you arrive at your destination, you can look forward to walking in the front door into a warm room.

All I wanted was a whiteboard eraser.

A couple days ago I took a trip to the store with my friend Drew. Our classes are in desperate need of new white board erasers and we thought it might be nice to get in a little bike ride as well. So we hopped on our bikes and headed for the home goods store about 25 min away. This store is huge and has a little bit of everything from lumber to puppies. We took our time browsing and then decided we really ought to find the erasers. Upon entering the stationary section we noticed an older Japanese man who walked to the end of the aisle at about the same time we entered it. Moments later this man yelled something down the way. Neither of us were paying too much attention, assuming he was simply yelling for a family member. But the yelling continued and he got a more irritated sound in his voice. After no one had responded to his first few yells he looks directly at Drew and yells something with such intense anger that Drew walks over very close to me and we decide we ought to relocate. So as we walk toward the other end of the aisle he yells again and Drew then tells me, "he thinks we are spies." We both give a nervous laugh and continue to walk away from this crazy man. (You may want to note that no one around us is responding in any way to this scene.) We exit the aisle and start walking left, and the man walks parallel to us and continues his angry yells and accusations of us being spies. So we attempt to lose the man and walk to the back of the store, near the tables that have heaters under them to keep you warm. It appeared that we had lost the crazy man. We spent a couple minutes in the back of the store, in a bit of shock, commenting to each other about the absurdity of the situation. Figuring the crazy man must have moved on to complete his shopping, we move toward the front of the store, constantly looking over our shoulders and peeking around corners as we go. To prove the point that indeed, we are not spies...we were unsuccessful at being inconspicuous and were spotted again by the crazy man who again pointed and yelled in fury. This motivated us to move very quickly back to the back of the store. After cowering by the bedding section for a while we decided we really should attempt an escape and this time were successful at making it to the cashier and exit without being spotted, although we had no erasers in hand. It was quite the interesting visit, being incredibly odd, quite frightening, and also very funny.

This incident did leave me thinking a bit about racism. The last 4 years of my life God has shown me a lot about how racism is still quite present in the states and is ever so present among Christians. I have begun to see how my thought processes were influenced by growing up in a society that really still favors white middle/upper class in many ways. My heart has been opened to see the need for those who follow Christ, to come along side one another and support and encourage those of all races in such a way that truly allows us to be one body of Christ. I have realized that I can not simply not be racist, I must be willing speak against those who are. But there is a part of me that knows that while I can sympathize with my "minority" brothers and sisters, I can never truly empathize. I grew up white in a safe suburban neighborhood with an intact family receiving a middle class income.

When I first got to Japan I heard about how the Japanese love to have tourists, but aren't too keen on more permanent foreigners. They are polite, but not necessarily welcoming. It occurred to me that here I might have opportunities to gain a better understanding of being a minority. Now I imagine it would be quite different if I lived here for 20 years and was still having people treat me like a stupid gaijin (foreigner), but at this point I find myself realizing that I will never truly understand what it is to face systematic and personal racism.

I got stopped on my bike by the police once because I'm white. It was when I had first come to Japan and I was a new foreign face in the neighborhood. But aside from arriving to my destination a few minutes later than if I had not been stopped, I was not really even inconvenienced. The officer was incredibly polite and seemed genuinely curious about who I was and why I was in Japan. The other day I got in line to wait for a train and the girl in front of me (the only other person in line) switched to a different longer line moments after I stood behind her. There was an open seat by me on a fairly crowded train and a couple friends who got on the train clearly had a difficult time deciding who ought to sit by me and who would sit in the seat across the way. I clearly made them feel uncomfortable, and not until I closed me eyes, pretending to doze, becoming a less threatening person, did any of them sit down by me. I got angrily accused of being a spy and no person intervened. But I still will never understand. You see in all these situations, there was no doubt in my mind that I am a valuable person. For 23 years of life my family, friends, classmates, and society have communicated to me that I have worth, I am intelligent, and I am worthy of respect. I have always been taught that I am just as good and capable as any other person. Heck, I grew up in Portland so I was taught that I'm not even limited by being female. So when someone calls me a spy with such an intense anger I don't doubt he may come after me, I never doubt my worth or my significance in the world. It rolls off all the years of positive messages and is left as a funny, yet adrenaline increasing experience in my mind.

I never will really understand. Part of me almost wanted to have this crazy man convince the security guards that I was a danger, so that I would be unjustly taken in and then treated unfairly etc etc so that maybe I could taste a bit of what it is to live out being discriminated against because of my race, but then again, that would have been incredibly scary and I'm very very grateful that was not the ending, and even then I'm not sure I would have understood what it is to live under racism daily. I never will be able to understand. Even when people treat me as a stupid foreigner it's something like, "oh wow... she can use chopsticks? how did she ever acquire such a difficult Japanese skill?" I don't know what it is to have to prove myself when applying for a job simply because I'm black. I don't know what it is to have people accuse me of being an illegal immigrant and taking American's jobs, because I am Latina. I don't know what it is to have someone call me names and tell me I'm a horrible criminal because I'm Latina and my family chose to escape the poverty or maybe even war in a native country and come to America. I don't know what it is to be the nameless "other" on the survey box as an Asian, or to have people assume my intelligence or interests based on my race. I don't know what it is to have police or FBI frequent my restaurant, "checking in" because my family is Middle Eastern. I will never understand. I want to be a voice of compassion, reconciliation, change, unity....but I am the face of those who persecute and I grew up being the favored "majority." I will never really understand, and I can't blame the minorities for fearing to place their trust in me.