for the glory of his name

Chasing the Wind

2009-09-12T09:24:00.003-06:00

I am sitting here in my Pronghorn gear, drinking Gatorade to hydrate, waiting for my friend to pick me up to take me to our first CIS season game. It's wild to me that I'm playing soccer again, and even wilder that I'm playing at this level. A few years ago I threw out all of my training shirts I never thought I'd wear again and moved my Sask Soccer and Hollandia windsuits downstairs to store for my kids who might find them neat to wear in 30 years. I came to the resolution of never being an athlete again time and time over through many tears and angry words directed toward God. Never did I imagine that I'd be competing again. I guess that's what happens when you follow the wind.
Working at Costco for six weeks this summer was the worst and best thing I decided to do in the past while. It was not a very entertaining or mentally stimulating job, but it gave me so much time to think and pray and give the direction of my life over to God. If I hadn't have worked there I would not be living in Lethbridge right now. It was there that I fully decided to be a teacher, to move to Lethbridge, to give up close friends and comfortability in Calgary; it's where the idea germinated to try out for the university soccer team. Those six weeks of praying and seeking and submitting absolutely changed my life.
Being here is not scary; it's like I'm finally stepping into what I'm meant to do. Almost every day I have confirmation that I'm supposed to be here; it's a thrilling feeling.
It was a flying leap of faith coming here; I moved here and was trying out for the soccer team before I was even officially accepted for school. But it's working out, things have been settling down; I even have a Lethbridge phone number and job.
I followed the wind to one of the windiest cities in Canada. When you are on the ground trying to run or walk or play, believe me, wind is so irritating and frustrating. But when you are flying, hang gliding, following, being led, it's the very thing that keeps you from crashing into the ground.

Silver

2009-04-02T20:46:00.003-06:00

There was a time when I would have been disappointed with losing out on the gold and getting awarded the second-place silver. That was when life was severely different.
This last weekend I was in Edmonton for provincials. We didn't come out on top, but I wasn't sad at all; instead, all I had was joy. I made it through a season; I haven't made it through a full soccer season in 5 years without ending up on a waiting list. But here I am, no surgery, no torn ligaments, no swollen knee. A small miracle if I do say so myself.
I've never been so thankful just to be able to play. I don't care if I score, I don't care if my team wins; I am just grateful that God has blessed me enough to put me back on a soccer pitch.
This is my shout out to God. He does care, he does know what we want, and he does love us enough to award us joy even when we lose.

Benjamin Franklin, Money and Me

2009-03-03T23:08:00.005-06:00

Benjamin Franklin said that time is money; I'm not sure I agree, but that might be because I don't like money. I do, however, like time. A lot. And I need it. A lot.

I learned a big thing about time last week: it is a gift and it is governed by God. We can use it selfishly or purposelessly and it will feel like we never have enough, or we can use it sparingly, hold is loosely, be willing to give it up and we will have enough time to do all that we need to.

Last week I had a Japanese placement test, two midterms, a research methods project and a group presentation, all scheduled during the same four days. The week before that was Reading Week, but I have no idea where that went. All I know is that I didn't work on really anything that I needed to. (I think all I did was decide my history term paper would be about the Berlin Wall instead of Cuba.) So I had all these projects, and not nearly enough time. That said, I was slightly stressed.

The weekend between Reading Week and the week from hell was a retreat in Canmore with my bible study. I didn't want to go because of all that I needed to do; I needed another week to prepare for school, but I found myself giving up the weekend to idleness and rest instead. Somewhere inside of me I felt that I needed to focus on God and find rest in my soul before I could even attempt to attack life in any sort of productive way. That part of me was right.

I gave time away and time opened up. God's got a weird economy like that. I kept getting random brackets of time I never have which I used to get all my studying and preparing done. I was allowed off work three hours early before one exam so I could study, a class the next day was cancelled, so I had that bit of time to prepare too, I prioritized between going to class Thursday morning or studying for a midterm worth 30%, and the presentation got moved from Wednesday to Friday, Time opened up. And the weird part was I wasn't stressed at all. I think I actually enjoyed fitting everything in like a puzzle.

I gave just a weekend of focused time to God and he made my life fall together. I was talking to another girl from bible study and the exact same thing happened to her. But it's a hard thing to do, to give up time. We hold time so tightly, feel like we have to govern it, control it. But we can't. God holds time; he can make the moon and the stars stand still, he can make the sun travel backwards, and he can open pockets of time we don't expect in order for us to accomplish what He knows we have to. It's hard to believe, but there is joy in life when you base it on surrender.

Maybe old Benjamin Franklin - printshop apprentice, diplomat, patriot, editor, General Postmaster of America, creator of libraries and fire departments, political activist, advocate for unity, writer, scientist, inventor, philosopher and benchmark of American history really was right, Maybe time really is money; it's a currency that we trade for growth in whatever direction we choose. Ben traded his time to many different themes, and see what he has become.

And ironically enough, isn't his face on every single $100 bill in the United States?

i am now scared for what saturday might bring

2009-02-09T22:46:00.004-06:00

I have had a string of Saturdays that are really, really abnormal. Last Saturday I was awakened by a phone call from the mechanic telling me that I need to spend another $400 to replace the brakes on the car that it is my possession. Then I fought off a bad mood as the rest of the day imploded in impatience and frustration from various things.

The Saturday before I went snowboarding at Nakiska; on the way home the car in my possession overheated and we had to get towed....but not after waiting an hour and a half in a frozen car with cars whizzing past on the very busy highway a mere foot away. No heat. The car completely died. I have a black toe... but it's actually from soccer a few days before, not from the cold. Unfortunately. It would make my story better. A story with a $768 price tag. It is not funny to me yet.

The Saturday before that was Floyd.

I was at work for nine and a half hours that day. Floyd sat passed out in a chair for one and a half of those. The security guard stared at him for 10 minutes of those. Anna and I wondered what to do for all of those.
The cops came. The ambulance came. They didn't do anything; they just kicked him out into the -30 degree winter night with nothing but a windbreaker and a ball cap and watched him walk away.
Floyd. The drunk man with black pants, a pink and yellow florescent/black jacket, glasses, a black cap with red on it, First Nations, 40 or 50 year old man. That was the description I gave to the police before they arrived. That is the description I saw while I was standing on the train platform ready to go home, watching my train come from across downtown.
I had a decision to make: miss my train and give him the muffin and scone I had in my backpack with my $1400 laptop, or pretend I didn't see him and go to my warm home and eat supper. I chose Floyd; I couldn't choose anything else. I had watched the city's authority figures walk away from this helpless man; I could not. I would not walk away.
I ran and caught up with him as he was stumbling across the road on a red light. Safe across I handed him the Good Earth bag of baking; all he said was "I'm cold. I want to go somewhere warm." My heart broke. His face was scabby from the cold, his bare hands were so frozen and fingers so stiff he could barely grab the bag I gave him.
I asked him if I could phone someone to help him. He wouldn't let me call the ambulance: "they're prejudiced," he said. And they are. I saw it earlier that day; I felt the weight of his words.
So I called a friend to come take Floyd somewhere where he could get help. Once we ungracefully got his drunk, stiff and cold body into the car we drove him to the drop-in center. "I'm a nobody," he slurred during a moment of silence. A nobody. What a sad state of the soul to actually believe you are nobody. I should have said more, besides that he is somebody, he has children, he is Floyd, he is somebody. I hope he remembers that. I hope he remembers the help he received.
Normally I don't do that kind of thing. But I felt absolutely no fear, just a deep compulsion to help this man, to feed him, to get him somewhere warm. I am not a good person; social justice just needed to be done. I was a doer, if only just for that day.

There are a lot of people society tries not to see. It's amazing how many people either drove or walked by Floyd and I, averted their eyes and completely avoided us altogether; nobody passing by even gave the slightest inclination that they perceived us in any way. I wonder what would have happened if I was actually in danger; I wonder if anybody would have even tried to help.

Why are we a society that refuses to see? Why is it that so many people refuse to help? Why is it that the justice system isn't in place to help those who really need it but to insulate from any intrusion those whose life is completely comfortable? Where will we be if we refuse to accept the Floyds, to help them in their broken place? What will be become if we continue to disown as people those who Christ died to save?

Busy Day...Ooftah (Yes I AM Norwegian)

2009-01-21T22:35:00.004-06:00

I'm finding it hard to go to sleep. I am dead tired but I can't find the will to call it a day. Maybe because my days and nights have been so patchy; the last 48 hours have been a continual day with various nap times.

Yesterday I woke up early to do some reading before class at 9:30, I was at school until 4, went grocery shopping on my way home, made supper, had an hour and a half nap, got up, did some more homework, then made it to the opposite quadrant of Calgary for my 11pm soccer game. After running around for an hour (we won), I took my sweaty body home for a shower.

By 1am I was in bed... but only for a brief time. Just before 6 that same morning (I let myself sleep in because of the prior late night) I woke up to get to work for 7. I made lattes for 5 hours (reading my required reading for the day at break) and took the train straight to school for class at 1. I had half an hour when I was supposed to get my Japanese friend to correct my speech that I had to do for a class at 3... but I had forgotten the notebook containing that speech at home. So I called my roommate who luckily also had class at 3 to bring it to me (I was grateful I wouldn't have to wing my speech...).

In leu of correcting my speech before 1, I went and bought the course pack containing the reading I have to do for tomorrow. I sat down for 10 minutes and started to read it while I shoveled down some banana bread (made the night before while reading about the Cold War, waiting for the late late hour I was to leave for soccer). Then I went to class... where I wrote my notes in the wrong notebook because I had failed to bring that class's book as well.

Next hour.

I sat in the library entrance by the vending machines and tried to remember my Japanese speech, writing out what I could recall, just in case my roommate didn't come in time. But she did. And I was able to call Sachiko to get the right Japanese for it. So 15 minutes before my 3 o'clock Japanese class started I had finished my speech. Lucky.

This is where I collapse.

No, not yet.

I came home and started to unwind, pay some bills, check email, that sort of home stuff. But 10 minutes into that my roommate called from Safeway and said she had bought too much to carry home herself. I figured I owed her one for earlier this afternoon and went out to fetch her and her food.

We made it home and I made yakisoba for supper... it was the first time I had made it in over a year and it was a little too salty...

I tried to buckle down and read some for school... tried 'Origins of the Cold War' and got about 5 pages in. I switched to Harriet Martineau's excerpt of 'Society in America'. No luck. I just can't concentrate.

And that's where I am now, at ten minutes to ten, with my roommate feeding me fresh-made cookies.

Today I also found out I got accepted to a group study program for May at Senshu University in Japan and my brain is trying to figure out the logistics of that right now...while all I want to do is sleep...

If only I could get up out of this chair....

Anomie

2008-12-15T00:10:00.002-06:00

Something that has always amazed me about humans is their adaptability. I'm not going Darwinistic and saying our necks (over generations) can turn giraffe-like if all our food randomly (over time) becomes only available at top-of-tree height; I am saying that our environment and situations constantly change, and we have been made so that we can change with it and find a new 'normal'.
I don't think there is such a thing as normal. Because life and relationships are so fluid there can't be a normal. There is only what we know of the past, our history, and what we think should be the future, our ideals. History and ideals, not normality.
One of the founding fathers of sociology, Emile Durkheim, labeled normlessness as 'anomie', referring to an eroding lack of societal structure which eventually becomes anarchical. But I think anomie is a constant state of life; it's how well you adapt to the change that prevents your life from erupting into chaos. A friend moves away, a family member dies, your job description changes, the semester ends and classes change, it snows. But it doesn't have to be the end of your happiness and stability.
I've always loved winter for many many reasons. Besides it being absolutely beautiful when it snows and the whiteness clings to the trees and blankets everything you see, I love how city life changes. In any other season you can drive as fast as you want to until you hit your fear threshold of being caught, you know which lanes will be the fastest, and you can predict the time within seconds it will take to get where you want to go. But in winter that all changes. A drive that used to take 10 minutes now takes 45, and you have no idea what bus, icy patch or accident you will run into on your way home.
Besides that, the lanes change. When snow is covering the ground you cannot see the lanes, the painted lines you are supposed to drive between. So you make it up. You adapt. You drive where you think you should. And when the friction from enough people's tracks melts the snow back down to the concrete, you can see how off you all have been. You discover you've been driving in the shoulder, you see that you are halfway in between lanes, either the white or the yellow, you see you've all been wrong. But it works. You adapt. You see the need for change and it gets changed.
Humans are so adaptable. We can live in plus 15 or minus 30 (even in the span of a week), we can live in the woods or on the prairie, on a mountain or in a valley, near a flowing river or in the middle of a desert. Our way of living and thinking can change.
Our lives certainly do. It may not look like our past, and it may not resemble what we had pictured in our heads but we are still in the middle of it, trying to make due with what we've got, trying to find joy and some semblance of prosperity.
Whatever happens, it's okay. We can learn to live anywhere, under any circumstances, in our constant state of anomie. God has made us that way so we can learn to depend on him for our stability, not any job, paycheck or friend. He wants us to thrive in diversity, not just hum along in comfortability.
Snowstorms will come but we will drive different.
And one day our food may relocate to the tops of cedar trees, but we will learn to climb them.

despite what they tell you, school is not easy

2008-11-18T22:03:00.005-06:00

Today while I was studying my midterm I overheard a girl talking. I overhear a lot of things when I'm pseudo-studying; I just don't tend to let on. Occasionally I wish I didn't have ears (at least ones I can't turn off at will). But in this case the girl wasn't talking about anything I really didn't want to hear, just about her work load this semester. So I decided to count mine.

- 4 smaller (up to 6 page) writing assignments
- 1 ten-page research paper (due Tuesday)
- 12 midterms (11 down, 1 to go...)
- 4 finals (yet to be completed)
- two other random bio assignments
- and the copious amounts of reading required to stay on top of it all (1-4 books per class)

And now I understand why my mind is so pooped; I feel completely justified with why I am bridging mental exhaustion.

After I counted my stress in the form of tests and papers, I continued studying for my midterm the next two hours, went to a different class, studied for another 45 minutes, and then wrote the test. I think I did okay. Yay.

Thoughts of Chess

2008-11-13T16:21:00.002-06:00

I have a chess set. It's glass and it sits on a glass table. Actually it's our second one (my roommate stepped on the first board and shattered it). So we are on our second chess set and how many times have we played chess? Well, we've played checkers. I won.
We don't know how to play chess. We've each moved a couple of pawns, and at one time we had it set up like we were in the middle of a game so we could impress all our house guests. But really, we haven't touched it.
There is no time.
This explains my life. No time to randomly do things that I would like to. Not that I don't like school. I do. But I'd like to branch out sometimes.
It's hard to balance life with school. It's so easy for life to become school, for the desire to excel academically to overcome any other passion, but I've discovered that's not healthy. Rest time is so important to keep up your energy and a positive mentality, not to mention a good relationship with God and the ability to actually retain the things you're learning in school. Rest.
I almost feel guilty when I'm awake and not doing something 'productive'. Like now. I just got home from a full day at school, including a 90 question midterm, and I feel like I should either be studying for my next one or working on my research paper. This is one reason I started watching The Office box sets - it's half an hour chunks where I will actually just sit down and let myself sit. Briefly.
Last week I saw a girl reading a fiction book on the train. Hardcover, nice big words, spaced out writing, no academic words... It made me really excited for Christmas when I will be able to read a book just for fun like that. And maybe I will pick up chess during the holiday season as well... as soon as I pick up a friend who knows how to play it.

The Economy of the Sea

2008-08-24T00:14:00.003-06:00

Life is constantly changing.

When I visualize that statement, life is a shoreline with the waves coming in and out in a constant cadence, the crash of change every few seconds. The waves bring with it life; seaweed, mussels, crabs and other sea life are always getting deposited on the shore. Children and adults alike scavenge this stuff, joyfully picking through the sand in search of treasure in the form of seashells that the ocean has brought empty for them to be found. In turn, the shoreline gives the ocean life. When the waves crash upon the beach, the motion mixes oxygen with the water which gets taken out to sea for the various life forms to breathe.

But the ocean also brings death. These waves can come too high, become too violent, and create fatality under the name of natural disaster. It is natural to have disaster; it is natural to have death.

We experienced that in our family this week. Though death is natural, it feels so wrong, like such a violation of life. Death, when it comes near, reaches its cold, bony fingers out and gives your shoulders a shake, forcing you to decide what is really important. Death shatters the norms you have created for yourself, and crumbles the ones that have been built up around you. Like the norm that grandma has nine children, like the norm that dad would stay out late having coffee with his brother, like the norm that Arlin would come home for Christmas and Easter. Those norms are no longer; they have passed into memory.

When I was sitting in the service yesterday (a few seats over from where I sat at Grandpa's funeral not too long ago) I didn't hear too much of what the preacher was saying. I was staring at the big pine box in front of me that contained my uncle, cold and lifeless. And then I thought of all the people around me, friends, family, and got an enormous sense of love.

Death, besides being death, can be an enormous blessing too. There are few circumstances that that many people gather in the same place, that family has the chance to come together and just be, to share a common feeling, to gain stronger bonds. Relationships are formed with time together, and when a growing family is continuing to spread over Western Canada, those chances for time together come very limited.

I'm by no means saying I'm thankful for the death that happened this week. I'm saying that funerals, without the death part, can be like impromptu family reunions; this is what I'm thankful for, the chance to again be with people I love.

Family is something that you can never take away. Those same people will always be the ones gathering with you at special occasions, eating beside you at Christmas and weddings, telling stories about you, sharing memories with you; those faces will be the same in your photo albums year after year after year, just a little older. And though you can freely give that up, nothing in life will be able to take that away.

Family is a joy of life, a blessing of God; family is like the foam on a latte. Without foam you essentially just have a glass of hot milk with a shot of espresso. But add foam and you have an experience; foam puts joy into the drink. Family is like the foam on a latte; drinking life is so much more satisfying when you have family around to share it with.

The sea brings life and the sea brings death. Tsunamis claim many lives, invoking fear in the ones who have scraped through.
When death takes someone you know, it leaves the rest of us to grapple with our feelings, to cope with loss, to cling to each other through the heartache.

But it also lets us see that we are not invincible, that God holds the hands of time, that he's the one that has our days marked, not us. Death tears back the veil of pretense and empty striving and lets us see what is really important, like being a family to the family we've been given.

Death took from us here on earth, sure, but it also gave to those in heaven, like the give and take economy of the sea. We lost an uncle, a brother, a friend by any other name, but not for forever; our family is simply being relocated, one by one, until we are all swept from the seashore and taken into the depths of the glory of God. And there we will be a family forever, a continuation of the blessing and joy we have learned and shared here on earth.

The Mercy of Scars

2008-08-06T23:36:00.003-06:00

I was sitting in church last Sunday, and again, God met me there.
During offering or something a song was sung that made me understand the last four years of my life. The chorus went something like, "heal the wound but leave the scar... it reminds me of how merciful you are." I sat there with tears in my eyes because I realized how true it was. I reached over both knees with my hands, feeling my two prominent scars, and I realized with force how merciful God had been to me when he allowed my ACL to be torn.
When I was seventeen the whole focus of my life was not God; it was nothing but succeeding in soccer and being good in other people's eyes. I didn't know where I fit in, spending the majority of my time with soccer friends who were swaying me to be and think one way, while all the while I had this inner sense that God shouldn't keep getting pushed aside. It was a civil war within my soul, and I waged it the entire time I played soccer.
I thought my life ended when I tore my ACL the first time. For the first time I failed to have the milestone of all my soccer achievements to define me; I had to find out who I actually was despite of any physical talent... God-given talent that was separating me from Him.
God was merciful enough to give me scars to save me from all my false and empty life and aspirations when I was seventeen. I had never thought of it that way before, and it hit me like a Mac Truck when I was sitting in the sanctuary on Sunday.
I used to pray with desparation and anger for God to heal me, to tie the tendons back in place and make the scars disappear. But now I'm thankful that I still have those gouges in my knees because they are drawn on with God's deep pen of mercy. What I didn't realize was that the real wounds were inside; the broken tendons were in my heart. And God took me around the world to heal them and to regain strength. I have scars to show that Jesus loves me. He has scars and I have scars, just to prove the mercy of his Father to me.
I just got home from a soccer game thirty minutes ago. I am astounded that after my long, four year journey of living life not based around being an athlete, I still have soccer talent. It is pure joy to run around on the pitch again, and probably even more so because it's something that has been taken away and given back again.
But this time around I will play for God's glory, not mine. He was the one who healed the insides of both my knee and my heart. He is the one who, in wisdom, healed the wounds but left the scars, just so I would have a reminder of how merciful my God really is.

Struck By Mortality

2008-08-05T01:05:00.000-06:00

I have been struck again tonight by the mortality of man. We are short, and if we aren't careful we can live for nothing.
One of the things I accomplished this past weekend was obtaining a library card for the Calgary public library system; I wasted no time and checked out several books right away, the one I finished tonight being among them. I was under the impression it was about five old college friends getting stranded on a tropical island on their way to do humanitarian work in some remote corner of the world - a nice, light story good for summer reading. But now I can't sleep.
In short, the book was metaphorical prose simulating hell. Now that I can imagine a little bit how horrible it would be to be stuck on that desert island, to be stuck eternally in hell, I cannot imagine. I don't want to.
I want my life to mean something.
In the book, all the characters had real-life visions or mirages of all their sinful moments and evil attributes; they stepped into various cave caverns and it played before them like a horribly real movie. The visions they had weren't even just of sins they had actually committed, it showed their motives, their spite, their jealousy, their greed, how it would look if you could see those crimes physically. Spiteful words spoken were like bloody slashes across the chest of the one they were speaking against, attitudes towards people and situations were played out in actuallity and became murderous scenarios.
We all have that in us. We do not have to hold a knife against someone physically in order to kill them; we can do that in our hearts, in our minds, in our attitudes, in our eyes. We all have malice, a sinful nature, and if we're not careful that can overtake us.
Life can be so empty if you can't see the real purpose of living. We can parade around in our plastic smiles and painted-on fame, but it can be useless if not for the glory of our Heavenly Father. Life can be so empty if you are living for yourself, for your own goals and your own achievements. I would trade all of that for the simple joy of living in step with my Father; I do not want to be stuck on that desert island.
After finishing the book tonight I opened my bible quickly before turning off my light with the intention of falling asleep. My eyes fell to the words 'you have been marked with a seal' or something to the effect of God, in Jesus Christ, marking me and setting me aside, sparing me from judgment. I am forever grateful for that promise.
But some are not so lucky. Some have not been marked; they are on the boat that will be shipwrecked on that tropical island where it is impossible to escape, the days never change, relief from constant thirst never comes and you can never die. Those are the people we, as a family of believers in Christ, need to worry about.
We are mortal. It is easy to forget that in our lives because we are surrounded by things that comfort us and situations that breed confidence in ourselves. It is only when these things melt away that we feel destructable, mortal...small.
When they are ripped away, we feel with such raw horror how little and meaningless the lives we have built for ourselves actually are.
Struck by mortality...
I need that every once in a while to re-evaluate my life and see how noble my goals actually are. But I welcome every opportunity that God sends a message in a bottle out to me here on earth, reminding me of what I am really here to accomplish, reminding me of Him.

The Cowboy, The Hooker, The Homeless Guy and The Best Man

2008-07-10T20:50:00.004-06:00

I have never been thankful that there are some people in this world who are gifted at breaking into cars. Until yesterday that is.
I locked my keys in my car outside of my friend's house in downtown Calgary last night. And oh what an adventure ensued.

We started off trying to jimmy the door with a metal coat hanger. It was definitely not going through that seal. Then I noticed that the back window was a squinchy bit rolled down (God's grace, no?) We tried the wire through there... but it was too long and uncontrollable, no matter how much I said you just gotta control the uncontrollableness.
A rough-looking guy ambles by and offers to try breaking in for us. He was kinda sketchy and we politely declined. A hooker or two walks by. Some people going home from the Stampede walk by. Funny how nobody questioned why we were breaking into a car or if it was even ours. That pretty much sums up the neighborhood... something appearing to be burglary isn't even questioned. I was surprised no cops rolled by and arrested us.

Back to the story. Homeless Man #1 goes away. So do Hooker #1 and #2.

Enter Cowboys #1 and #2. They were on their way home after a long day of Stampeding. Cowboy #1 offers to try his hand at it as his friend, Cowboy #2, sits on the grass to watch. Around the same time Homeless Guy #2 meanders into the scene. He said he would get in if we gave him ten bucks. At this point (about 45 minutes since we first started attempting to break into my car) we were ready to try anything. So we say, 'give it a whirl'. He was quite the character. I believe the words out of his mouth were: "I live on the streets, I do this all the time". He went straight for the front lock, jamming some suspiciously sharp metal object in between the rubber and the window when we weren't looking. Then he noticed the slightly lowered back window.
By this time Cowboy #1 is on the other side of the car with a different hanger; he challenged Homeless Guy #2 to a race. Homeless Guy #2 asked to see his hanger, claiming it was a different make than the one he was holding. Cowboy #1 says, "wow, you know your makes of hangers. There's no way I can win". And he left, leaving me and my friend with the homeless guy.

Homeless Guy declares "I need a stick". I thought he meant like a little twig or something. Nope. He struts over to the nearest tree (around where Homeless Guy #1 disappeared to) and just rips off an entire branch, proceeding to strip it of all its shorter branches and leaves. Apparently I don't know my 'sticks'. Then he tried shoving it in the small crack above my back window. I was getting nervous by now, wondering if I was going to have to pay more for getting my car back into functional order when he was done than the actual tow-truck would have cost. So I asked Homeless Guy if there is normally permanent damage to the car when he does this. He just kinda shrugged and kept lodging the stick in the window crack.

I gotta trust my homeless people better. This guy actually knew what he was doing. Apparently you can break into a car with a stick and zero damage.

It was such a happy day when the light from the inside of my car (meaning door ajar) streamed into that ever-darkening street. We gave him his ten bucks, and after giving me a lecture on how I can prevent this in the future he went on his merry way, and I was finally able to go on mine.

Apparently some people offer this world more than just good looks and money. Though that homeless guy had neither, I am thankful that he did have street skills.

And that is my story of the cowboy, the hooker, the homeless guy and the best man.

My Journey's Equation

2008-06-23T22:43:00.004-06:00

1 cruise-less car
1 person
1 ceramic garden gnome
1182 kilometers of cleared forest and hand-laid tar
3 freshly hit deer carcasses (all before Lloyd might I add)
2 dead porcupines (also in Sasky... these people can't drive...)
9 other random bloody furry messes
1 hamburger (not found on the side of the road)
5 abandoned cars roadside
2 Timmy Ho's stops
5 bathroom breaks
30 minutes lost in construction in Edmonton
$100 gas dollars spent
14 1/2 consecutive hours of my life spent like this (arms straight ahead, staring forward, road noise...)
about 30 text messages
1 pussy mosquito bite
5 others itching uncontrollably (I have confirmed the theory that human saliva is the best temporary mosquito anti-venom)
1 giant metal bridge that was not nearly as scary as previously warned
1 already burnt arm with continuous sun beating on it, the other without (yay for traditional pre-wedding lopsided tan)
3 really good cd's played over and over and over
1 near-death incident involving a large truck and a traffic circle in Edmonton
37 kilometers on the Alaska highway

almost 15 hours of peace and contentment spent with God - priceless

Phoenix Phun

2008-04-21T09:49:00.013-06:00

It has been about a month since I got home from Phoenix, so I think it's about time I posted pictures of it. I'll try not to be redundant with them. (I only took pictures on about three of the days I was there... my sister took the rest and hasn't sent me any yet.)
Our schedule there was this: wake up early, eat breakfast, go to the gym. Come back and go shopping with Uncle Phil and Auntie Gladie all morning. Come back for lunch. Hang out at the pool all afternoon. Come back for supper. Go to a miscalaneous production of some sort (Morman Easter play, Good Life drama crew, Organ Pizza, IMAX). Come back and have snacks and play either Mexican Train, Beans or Skipbo until late. What a life. It took me until... about last week to adjust to real life with responsibilities and no hot sunshine.

My sister and I with our IMAX glasses... we learned how to save the Colorado river... too bad we don't live there to implement all that we learned about water conservation in the desert

Uncle Phil, Auntie Gladie and Chantelle in front of a ginormous cactus (that looks like it's really hungry)

our clever posing technique to avoid the 30 degree sun from burning our retinas

we were definitely in the desert... as a kid from Saskatchewan, I just don't see cactus and Joshua Trees every day

I sat on a cactus... for real. I didn't mean to, but I kinda fell over when my sister took this picture (unrelated to the hole in my shorts...)

Grand Canyon!! We finally made it... but only after starting the world's longest game of Bingo, or in Auntie Gladie's words, Treasure Hunt. They need to make more red BMW's.

I liked to sit/ stand right on the edge of the Canyon... but I had to quit because I didn't want to be responsible for any heart attacks...

We are sisters ^_^

Panorama Trip

2008-03-10T22:06:00.005-06:00

Kels and I on the way to Panorama in front of Castle Mountain

frost on the car window outside Kels' aunt and uncle's place in the morning

waiting in line for the first run

we went straight to the top

Kels shredding it up

Halla!!

done for the day

Only One Thing

2008-03-04T08:23:00.003-06:00

A friend told me the other day, "it only takes one thing". God only needs to break one thing through, open one door; the rest is waiting time. There needs to be no lead-up time, no warning, just poof - He's arranged something and there it is. And He did.
On the weekend I had a small faith crisis; I was growing in dissatisfaction and distrust of all the things God has promised to me; I wanted to actually hold one and not have words, I wanted to see Him do something in my life. I wanted him to reveal just one thing, open just one door, to show me Himself.
I was talking to someone I haven't seen in a long time last weekend. They asked, "are you playing soccer?" Of course I said no, but I've been playing squash, swimming, snowboarding... anything except soccer. But it made me think, I think about soccer a lot, I sometimes have dreams about playing soccer again, why don't I? So sometime in the week I emailed Calgary Women's Soccer Association to find out more information for the summer season. They responded and told me to submit my player profile on the website so a coach can get ahold of me. I closed it without doing anything... until Sunday night in the middle of my distrust.
Less than 24 hours later I was playing in a game at the Calgary Soccer Center.
God is crazy.
He opened my door.
A coach called me around noon yesterday and after talking a bit, asked if I wanted to come try out with them that night at an exhibition game. I was hesitant because it was so sudden, but the phrase, "it only takes one thing" kept running through my head. And there was no way I could deny this one thing.
So I went. And 4 goals and 1 assist out of the team's 6 last night, I am getting signed onto their team in time to play the last two games of the indoor season with them, as well as all summer.
It seems so strange, so fast. But it was that one door. A day ago I wasn't hardly thinking that playing soccer again so soon. And now I'm on a team.
I am blessed. God has answered my prayers huge. And after tons and tons of waiting and crying and praying, it only took one thing.

Fluidity

2008-02-29T00:53:00.003-06:00

I'm learning that life is fluid. Relationships, plans, love between friends or family, anything you dream.
Fluid is a funny word for people made out of dust. But it makes sense. When you mix dust with water you get mud. And if you have dry enough mud it's called clay. And clay is what God molds out of. He makes us best when we are mixed with water. His word.
Fluid. Sort of like waves on a lake or any other body of water, but more like the sea of golden-ripe wheat I am now picturing in my mind. Anybody who has been to the prairies right before harvest knows the way the wind swooshes through the individual stalks of grain and creates an equal mass that moves as a body. It's beautiful. It's fluid.
Like life. God gives us direction, points us in a way, and we can have fun carving down through the powder on the run he's placed us, all the while discovering secrets he's saved for us. You can choose to go through the trees, you can choose to take the jumps, or you can choose to go straight down in a tuck position like a child who hasn't yet learned fear. The point is to enjoy. And grow. To be fluid.
Fluid like love. You are never going to be completely happy with one person all the time; there will always be one day, or minute or hour that you are displeased with them. But because love stretches it doesn't end when the anger or frustration starts. It expands to encompass somebody's flaws. There are no rules to say when love gives up or when it should be in full bloom. Love is love.
Rules are fluid. Any rule you make is always going to be broken by at least one person. The point is that you're trying to obey, that you're trying to live up to the standard you know you've been called to. There is forgiveness when you break a rule and you're free to start again. Rules are not fluid like water, but more like gel; their nature doesn't allow them to run freely.
Life is fluid, and within fluidity there is freedom. And Perfect Love is found in the midst of freedom.
Walking with God is a dance, not a march, and he's the perfect leader. He makes us as beautiful and graceful as that sea of wheat dancing in the wind, giving glory to its Maker.

Castle Mountain Adventure

2008-02-06T14:40:00.000-06:00

wind generators by Pincher Creek

Miriam, John and I on our way up the chair lift for the first time

catching snowflakes

we jumped in the snowbank... and got severely stuck

Miriam the snow monster

if only I had moved a little more to the left while taking this picture...

it cleared up by the end of the first day and we finally saw a mountain or two

we decided spontaneously to go to Waterton for supper

...and spotted some fat escaped turkeys on the way

everything was severely snowed in

no pizza for us here...should've had one of the turkeys

chair lift to... where?
navigating down was equally as exciting...aka good thing we didn't fall off a cliff

check out the degree of that slope behind me... and the waist-deep powder under me
what a thigh-burner, but so fun

a jump we found by accident but turned out good

Miriam and Carina

we didn't realize this view was here the day before because it was so cloud and snowy

The End

Thirteen

2008-01-25T22:28:00.000-06:00

I heard something today that has been ringing in my head ever since: "you can't be brave unless you're scared".
Brave isn't just fighting in a battle, because many warriors have no fear. Brave isn't just facing cancer, because not every patient is scared of death. Brave isn't just moving to a new town, because some people are stellar at making new friends.
Brave is not something you can be unless you're shaking in your boots. Brave consists of doing the very thing your racing mind and sweaty palms are screaming at you to not do. Brave makes you be strong because you're doing the very things you know you are weak at and could very well fail. Brave is not allowing yourself to back out because you know it's easier. Brave is doing the right thing even when everyone else is wrong. Brave is your will being strong when your body is weak.
I wish for my will to be strong; I wish to do things I know will stretch me; I wish to grow in a way you only can when you're brave.
I wish to be brave enough to be brave.

Weekend at the Farm

2008-01-14T14:36:00.000-06:00

Here are some pictures I took of the weekend I spent at my friend's farm. She will be moving into our house for March because Miriam is moving away.
I caught my first fish... you can tell I am a city girl from the look on my face. But I was thrilled... still am... and have quickly converted to being a country chick.
Sorry some of the pictures are sideways... I don't know how to fix that. If you do, please tell me.

The Never-Ending Battle

2008-01-10T14:21:00.001-06:00

Cleanliness is a luxury. I am now realizing that as I am fighting against a bazillion multiplying dust bunnies and 3 roommates who aren't aware that they are even there. I am going crazy.
It was nice being home for the Christmas holidays, but I got spoiled. For those 3 sweet weeks it was so easy to fall back into the life of no responsibilities, not having to make my own meals, and my mom's ever-clean house. A good smelling house I might add.
I came back to Calgary and my wonderful home had been turned into just a house that wasn't homy for me at all... the tenants downstairs had decided to start smoking in the house, so our upstairs smelled like an ashtray, and my roommates weren't expecting me home for another few days and they hadn't had a chance to clean up after themselves.
So now I know I have the title of 'cleaning nazi' among my roommates based on how many times they apologized for the mess and promised to clean it up 'soon'. I don't know if I should be flattered or not.
I now wish I hadn't taken for granted all those years I spent at home with my parents in a nice clean house, where the only battle was my mess. Not crusty dishes, not clutter that doesn't make sense, not sticky fridges, not crunchy floor, not crumby counters... just my stuff in piles in various places. No dirt underneath, just piles.
I'm not sure if I should continue cleaning their mess or if I should give in and concede defeat to the army of dust bunnies breeding in our house.
All I know is that when I have a house of my own it will be impeccably clean and I will be living with no one who ruins my efforts after 5 minutes of being home. I should be a hermit. In a very clean place... like a mental hospital.
On the plus side I bought an air freshener about the same time the people downstairs reprimanded from the landlord for smoking in a non-smoking house and I no longer get headaches from breathing in toxins all day.
Life is looking up. Maybe this never-ending battle has an end after all.

Things I learned during my first semester of university

2007-12-16T18:28:00.000-06:00

I learned:

- how to not learn (aka dull my inquisitive learning mind because there's no time for it)
- that is are more than one kind of knowledge in the world, but book knowledge is the only kind that is acknowledged or respected
- that book knowledge and the way they test it puts people's brains and personalities in a tiny over-generalized box and if you're not good at multiple choice tests you are hooped - they don't give you any other ways to show what you've learned
- that these people need Jesus
- that marks don't dictate how successful you are - you aren't any less of an amazing person if you get 60 as opposed to 90
- that they just teach you common-sense concepts labeled with big, hard to remember words so it sounds 'academic' and so they can charge you $500
- how to 'think critically' ... aka doubt everything you've ever heard and test it with the 'scientific method'
- that the mumps shot is overrated; if everyone around me gets vaccinated I don't need to
- that there are a lot more fulfilling things to do in the world than go to school to work for money so you can buy a lot of things
- that academia is futile
- that the bible's right when it says that the wisdom of the world is useless
- that I want to give up my own worldly expectations for myself and go where God wants me to go, which isn't necessarily the direction the world is moving
- that it's okay to choose your own path, to be different, and to do what you dream

In The Face of Mourning

2007-11-24T00:17:00.000-06:00

It's not just every day that you lose someone. If you did, it probably wouldn't hurt so much when they went away. God has graced us with relationships, with knowing people and their hearts for a certain amount of time. And that time with Grandpa ended last Monday.
I am back in Calgary, back to my normal life of going to school, studying, and spending time with friends, but I cannot imagine what it must be like for Grandma. After 57 years of marriage, raising nine children together, watching them get married, being involved in the lives of 22 grandchildren, their spouses and 7 great-grandchildren, and spending every day all day together, it must be horribly lonely without him there.
I got closure about Grandpa's death from two events. The first was during my sleepover with Grandma her first night back at her house alone. We folded laundry together, talked about family and what's important, read the bible and prayed together. She is a remarkable woman of God, and I think all the time about how I would like to be like her, so strong and steadfast, faithful to the God whom she serves out of love. I realized then that there is timing, God's plan that we cannot see but that is slowly being unveiled. I understand that death can be a way that God brings people closer to him in a way that might almost make our loss worth it, if even just one other person is found. The second event I got closure from was the viewing the next day. I thought that seeing Grandpa would be optional, and it surprised me that he was out in the open at the front of the room so much I had to force myself to keep walking to an empty seat. I didn't really hear much of what Pastor Art was saying, but just looking at Grandpa's face made me understand what he was trying to say: Grandpa wasn't really lying there in that box. It resembled him, but the core of what had made Grandpa, Grandpa, had somehow vanished. His face had a slight grin, letting on only a little to the perfect joy he was experiencing that very moment another dimension away. Grandpa is home with the lover of his soul, delighting every moment in the life of utter freedom and peace he now has. I am not joking when I say I'm a little jealous.
Loss hurts, but I decided sometime last week that I would not be sad because a very stable person in my life had disappeared; instead I would rejoice because that person, Grandpa, has been told "Well done my child, enter now into my kingdom" and now walks with Jesus on the same golden road and crystal sidewalk. Or maybe they run along the green meadowy hills outside of heaven's walls. Grandpa loves Jesus, and during his time on earth pursued this love even with his hours of unsleep in the middle of the night. How could I not be happy for a man who has met his passion, who has been reunited with people he loved on earth, with which he now awaits for those who haven't come just yet? Grandma is one of those people who Grandpa is waiting for, but it will only seem like a breath until he looks upon her face as though for the first and ten millionth time all at once.
Living with heaven in mind makes this life seem so short, so trivial, compared to what the joy stored up for us will be like. And for this reason I can be happy in the face of mourning.

Roommates

2007-11-20T21:08:00.000-06:00

I thought I would share some pictures of my roommates and I playing squash and playing in the snow. Miriam and I made snow angels in the middle of the road.

Fall in the Park

2007-10-14T22:10:00.000-06:00

I love fall; it's so pretty with the colors of the leaves changing from green to hues of red, orange and yellow. I especially like their crunchiness when they fall to the ground though. I feel like such a little kid when I'm walking to school with my backpack on, literally walking through the piles of leaves instead of the sidewalk just so I can hear them. I'm almost like a leaf monster. Sometimes I wonder what people think when they see me walking not on the sidewalk but beside it in the trench-like leaf-filled gutters, or walking zigzagged (more so than normal) just so I can land every footstep on a leaf with a crunch. It's just amazing to me how nature's resignation to death can bring me so much life and joy.
The pictures are from the park just across the street from my house...well over the wall and across the street. I especially like the ducks in the pond who just tip over and swim with their bums in the air to get the food from the bottom. It was a sad day last week when, on my way to school, found that they had drained the pond, and the ducks were waddling so confused over the rocks that, the day before, had been covered with water. They have since moved elsewhere, so now I need to find someone else to throw my bread crusts to.

The Other Side of Poverty

2007-09-15T22:39:00.000-06:00

It all started a month or two when I was praying. Crazy things tend to happen when we pray, and this day was no exception. Somehow I found myself asking God to make me poor so that not only could I experience what it's like, but to have my faith stretched as I trust in God to provide. Little did I know that God answers requests like these.
After a summer of travelling around visitng friends, working only enough to pay off bible college with a little to spare, and mostly relaxing, about three weeks ago I moved to Calgary in a financial position that no sane person would pack up and leave with; all I knew was that God, for whatever reason, had directed me to Calgary and that I would go - He would work out the details. I had a student loan all lined up and was set to be deposited in my account the first of the month so I wasn't worried.
I had also opted out of the 'get a job' option. I tried, but somehow it didn't sit right with me to be working. Sometimes I thought I was just being lazy, but it was really God giving me the opportunity to establish patterns in my day that formed life around Him, not me trying to fit Him into it somewhere. It was really enforced to me that I wasn't supposed to be working yet when one Monday morning, one of my roomates and I had the opportunity to share God's love with a severely distressed woman strung out on drugs; God whispered to me after we and the woman parted ways that if I were working, this never would have happened.
So no matter how little sense it made to me most of the time, I continued to rest, explore God, and let Him be the focus of my day.
But then the loan didn't come....and didn't come...and was sent in cheque form to my parents' house in Saskatchewan...and I was living off my credit card when necessary and the charity of my friends (whom I feel very blessed to have), trying not to panic. But that was the amazing part, whenever I started to stress about my finances and my lack of student loan in my account God would speak and say it would be okay, that He would provide, that I need to trust His promises, and that He would work it out. One day last week I was stressing to Him about having no money to even buy my university textbooks and He told me, "There's money in MY bank. I always provide for my children. You're where you're supposed to be, just someone's trying to make it look like you're not, trying to make you doubt. I've allowed it to improve your faith. You've never exercised this area quite like this before. But I will provide. I will triumph and you will learn." And slowly, everytime I started to feel anxiety, I learned to hand it over to God and trust Him with it, claiming His promises, convinced he would provide.
And He did.
Right at the point of not being able to afford a much needed $112 psychology textbook and an expensive phone bill (setup charges kill you...), having not yet paid rent for the month, an IOU for choir tuition being due in two days, living off the dwindling credit on my card, and trying not to forget that panic isn't the way to peace, my loan arrived safe in my mailbox in Saskatchewan, which my dad prompty deposited for me. Halelujia!
So abiding in God is not much more than an attitude; it's knowing not only where you stand, but who stands for you. It's learning all the disciplines that keep you sane, like refusing to worry or give in to stress, seeking God and listening for Him to direct you, giving Him the perfect times of your day, and the times when it's not, and generally living in the peace that He provides, no matter what's going on around you.
God is a lifestyle, not just an option.
And now I'm excited to learn the other side of poverty...charity.

Family

2007-09-05T17:04:00.001-06:00

"Family" is a word that evokes different emotions from everyone.

Some think of family and feel rejection; others, complete acceptance.
Some feel adequate; some feel unworthy.
Some feel complete hate and abandonment; some feel unconditional love.
Some think they could never be good enough; others have always been told they are.
Some see it as a blessing; some see it as a curse.
Some wish they didn't have one; some wish they had more of one.
Some are blinded by it; some are blind to it.
Some are thankful for it; some refuse to accept what they've been given.
Some throw it away; some hang onto it with all that they are.

And those who hang onto it with their life realize that they are holding one of the biggest blessings that God could have ever given.
I am thankful for my family.

2007-08-29T13:43:00.000-06:00

It's been about two full days and I'm already getting sick of cold meals. I have no creativity when it comes to culinary arts, and not very much motivation. Good combination. Today's been a two-egg day; boiled egg as part of breakfast, and boiled egg as part of lunch. But I did go to the local grocery store and pick up some fruit. And saran wrap. So I'm a little bit eating healthy...except for the Wendy's I had last night with Andrea because we both didn't want to cook.
I need my mother to cook for me and feed me nice warm meals instead of the many granola bars I feed myself. Or I need more people than just myself to cook for. And a Meal-Planner to tell me what to make. And a Grocery-List-Maker to tell me what to buy. And a Financial Advisor to tell me what I can afford.
I also need a secretary, or just someone who plans my general day and schedules in everything that I need to do, a Day-Coordinator if you will. As well as a Room Decorator to remove the clutter of boxes and half a bed from my room. And a Certified Genious to help me with homework when I get it. And a personal trainer to help get me into tip-top shape. Unfortunately I can't employ all these people on my student loan. Any volunteers?

Un-Employed

2007-07-17T08:21:00.001-06:00

And the employed is now un-employed.
No, I did not get fired (though I was hoping I would be for quite some time); apparently you are only able to propogate trees for a certain amount of time, and that time is up. But, I am proud to say that I am either directly or indirectly responsible for the whopping number of 120 000 new bushes and trees being planted. My team and I are a well-oiled propagating machine.
And you know what? I actually started really enjoying it after a while. It was absolutley miserable to begin with, but one day I had a blue rubber band on my wrist from bunching twigs together, and I decided to not take it off and use it as a reminder to pray for work and the relationships there. Guess what happened? Me and mini-boss became friends (and I now retract everything I said about her), new people joined and livened things up a little, and work became a happy place. If that's not the power of God I don't know what is. It's funny what happens when you remember to pray.
I think one of my favorite days at work was last Friday, despite the 30 degree heat and working all day in it...and the 60 degree greenhouse. That was nuts. We were planting our freshly cut twigs outside, and every time we were done with a tray had to take it in there. But the temperature difference between the blazing heat outside and the greenhouse humidity was incredible, to say the least. Whenever I went in that greenhouse my glasses would fog up, like I was coming in from outside in winter, and when I got back out again I would be so cold and almost be getting goosebumps. That was ridiculous. And probably not so good for our health.
I got to drive a work vehicle that day, and not just the station wagon I had been priviledged in driving before, but...a bus! That's right, I drove a bus. What an exciting day that was. I was on a skinny road just wider than the actual vehicle between two rows of gallons and gallons of shrubs for selling. And if the pressure of not hitting them wasn't enough, I wasn't required to go forwards between them, but backwards. I finally found the reverse gear, started backing up, and then realized there was no rear-view mirror, so I had to rely on my two convex side mirrors, my cunning skills as a driver, and Hamilton (what an amazing name hey?) in the back kindly informing me (shouting) how close I was to the plants...and then Kyla, from outside, frantically gesturing right and left in those side mirrors when I kept overcompensating with the steering wheel, nearly hitting just about every pot on my way as I weaved by. What a day. What an adventure for the books. And no, I did not ruin any plants that day.
Then at break time I was cruising in the bus to go back to the offices where the break room is, and I had to turn a corner. Of course there were trees lining that corner, and of course you have to push the break petal in about a foot before it'll start working...and of course there were a few screams from the backseat, but again, nothing hurt, no lost money on broken trees, and no broken bones...or buses.
Kyla (former mini-boss) even bought Hamilton and I slurpees that day at afternoon break - 1 litre, monstrous slurpees. Talk about gut ache...and I only had about a quarter of it. Direct quote from Hamilton (holding his left over slurpee in his water bottle to take it home): "I am holding a big bottle of gut rotter." How true.
So it actually turned out to be a pretty fun place to work...besides the separate episodes of finding a dead bird and bloated, back-floating gopher with a hoard of flies swarming around it that we found yesterday. I thought I was going to be sick.
And now I am wonderfully un-employed and officially on full-time vacation.

The Rubber Boot Bandit

2007-06-29T22:47:00.000-06:00

An awkward thing happened to me that just proves how city I really am. My team at work took a fieldtrip to some random people's farm to cut the new twigs off their bushes in the fancy company schoolbus (aka floor caked with dirt, can hardly get it into reverse and goes from 0 to 60 in about 2 minutes). This farm just so happened to have a coop full of chickens that were just so enthralling to me. My first attempt at befriending looked like this: me running towards them through the tall grass with my hood up (I was cold) and my rubber boots making that rubber boot 'thub thub thub' noise...and I was probably clucking or whistling at them.
...They all ran for their lives to the other side of the pen.
A little bit later I got the urge to try once more to make some chicken friends, and I went more stealthily this time to show my friendly side. Things were going good, they weren't running away, and I got the brilliant idea to stick my hand through the fence to get them to come, like a dog. Chickens aren't dogs, and apparently, unlike dogs, they use electic fences to keep the chickens contained. ZAP! That was shocking...
I didn't know chickens had such bad escape habits that they required an electric fence to keep them retained...or maybe it's just to prevent predators (wild animals, Erikas) from invading their pen and flustering them - they might lay an egg or something.
And those rubber boots. I wear them because of the mud at work, but I think I'll remember them far past the day I quit, at this rate anyways. I have chafing. Major chafing. I have a red ring of rubber boot chafe in a nice circle all the way around both of my calves. How embarrasing. Not even children, in all the time they spend prancing in their puddles and walking to school in the rain, get a rash from their boots.
I'm gonna have permanent scars. From rubber boots.
That doesn't happen every day.
But at least my feet won't be muddy. In theory. Somehow at the end of the day I shake out a few clumps of dirt along with a tree or two.
I tell ya, the trees hate me. I think I have a special talent for killing them.
And from now on I think I'd like the name 'The Rubber Boot Bandit'. It has a cool ring to it...a ring around the lower section of my legs.

Employment

2007-06-23T16:38:00.000-06:00

Yay I have a job...
...Boo it's horrible.
This is what I do: I go to a field of bushes and cut new growth twigs off of them with clippers (I have only stabbed/nearly cut myself a few times), bundle them into groups of 77, and when we have about a million bundles of different random twigs we go plant them into trays. I didn't sign up for this. Well technically I did, but I had no idea what 'propagation' was before I went my first day. Why do I have to be so curious (or in desperate need of money)?
This job actually wouldn't be so bad because I get to be outside all day, getting tanned (or burnt and sunstroked) and learning random spanish from the small Mexican population that I work with (que pasa mama sita?). But there's the small issue of not being allowed to talk (says little dictator boss who's not really a boss) because we need to count to 77 over and over again. All day. To prevent my brain from turning to mush from the repetative, limited counting (I could be on Sesame Street - I can even count to ten in Spanish now) I decided to just clip a whole handful and count afterwards. That was seeming to work, and I was actually quite thankful for the quiet time outside I had to process what has happened in the last year and how it affects me now, as well as figure out what I'm supposed to do now, but now that's taken away from me as well. Apparently I cut slow (in fact I know I do...the Mexicans are like chop, chop, chop, bundle and I'm like chop, oh look at the nice blue sky, chop, oh there goes that one cuz I just snapped it in half, chop, what number am I at again, man I'm a tree killer, not a green thumb at all...plants hate me) and so I got in trouble from mini "look at me, I think I'm your boss but I'm really not" so I just sluffed it off, but then Big Boss comes and I really do get reprimanded for not counting as I go, so now I am not allowed to even think.
On Friday I was praying that I would get fired, but apparently I need a job because God didn't answer my prayers. So I've decided to just remember the Alamo, go for the gusto, and hopefully I'll make it to the next pay day at least.

Culture Re-shock

2007-06-13T10:25:00.000-06:00

There seems to be a difference in the way time passes in Japan and Canada. I've been in Canada for a month already; I remember in Japan how long that used to feel. Maybe part of the reason is that I've just been hanging out with friends and getting recharged.
I've also been learning how to interact with Canadian peers again. When I first went to Japan I had continually observe how people acted just so I wouldnt' do anything abnormal or rude. Now that I'm home I'm discovering that I need to learn how to make jokes and how to react to people in a Canadian way again (Japanese only comes out sometimes now...)
I've been home for a month, but I still can't get over the sky. It's just so big and so blue. I honestly just stare at it sometimes, amazed at how high up and blue it is. The difference between Japan and Canada in regards to the sky is like living in a snowglobe as opposed to being in a full-blown blizzard in the arctic; it's just bigger. (Not that Canada is snow and blizzardy).

There are also other little things that startle me along the way.

-There are Canadian bills that are red.
-We don't have to stop at every railroad track, and it scares me going over them at full speed because I think I will get arrested.
-We have to turn off our cars while we fill up with gas (though it caused me great anxiety the first time I filled up with a Japanese person who didn't turn off the car because I thought we were going to explode.)
-The vehicles are so huge (and rundown...in Japan you get a new car at least every 10 years) and the roads are so wide; I'm not quite used to having sidewalks and lawns in between the roads and the houses. It seems like in paving the roads, the construction people just slabed concrete down in a general road-area and painted the lines after.
-There is a lot of sugar in Canadian food...though I now find myself having things like cake for breakfast...
-There are substantially more fat people in this country (probably because they have things like cake for breakfast)
-Western humor incorporates a lot of insulting and hurting your best friends
-Pop bottles and chip bags, and things like the soft drink you get with your Subway are just so huge, almost like a meal in itself.
-I want Japanese sticky rice cooked in a rice cooker!!
-There is no humidity here and it's wonderful; I can walk around outside and not sweat profusely from the 100% humidity

So if you hang out with me please have patience as I am learning how to be fully Canadian again...and how to speak English correctly.

The C-train

2007-05-24T16:40:00.000-06:00

Today I went on a new adventure, this time in English. I met one of my friends from the camp I worked at a few summers ago last night at one of Kelsey's many wedding showers, and we decided to hang out today because she had it off. The thing is though, that she lives on the other side of the city, and to hang out I had to take the C-train.
It's really funny to me because I would've rather taken a train in Japan than the little C-train in Calgary. I thought about that for a bit and realized that in Japan I'm just big and white- I stand out,obviously not belonging, and because
of that it's okay if I get lost or ask for help or press the button that sounds out an ear-piercing security alarm. But in Calgary nobody knows I don't naturally belong, I'm just one of the crowd, and if I make a fool of myself then people, well, think I'm a fool (not that I care so much about what people think). It's the White Anonomity in Japan that allows you to goof up that I was missing.
But I took the train successfully and made it downtown; the only trick was meeting my friend. She wasn't where we had agreed to meet, and I kept waiting and waiting for about half an hour - until I realized I had her cell number in my pocket and thought it would be beneficial to call her from a pay phone and see where she was. And when I called her I realized she was literally 4 meters away (why is it that it always happens that way?)
Now looking back I wonder why I was nervous about getting lost on the C-train at all; there literally are only 4 destinations and two tracks (one going each way) in the whole city. The train system in Japan is much much more complicated, especially in Tokyo. Tokyo is crazy for trains with all the different lines and directions, and throw the subway in there and it's even worse. I figure if I can navigate my way around Tokyo no problem then places like Calgary shouldn't be a problem... if I could just remember which part of this huge city I live in.

Change

2007-05-23T07:51:00.000-06:00

I think there are two things that are sure about life: 1) things always change, and 2) you will eventually die. I haven't been thinking about death really at all, but having come back to Canada two weeks ago, spending nine days at home, and now living with a friend in Calgary makes me realize that life isn't always predictable.
I've decided that I like stability, but I've also decided that, outwardly, I don't have it right now. I don't know what I'll be doing for the summer, next week or even today, I don't know for sure where I'll be going to university in the fall, and it feels like there's a whole lot more of 'I don't knows' because I haven't had time to process all of the change that's happened in the past two weeks.
I also think that I like routine, at least until I get sick of it and want to change it. Right now I'm struggling to establish a routine, and that consists of continuing to study Japanese, doing CLBI correspondence courses, washing dishes, going to the gym and whatever else I happen to do with my friends in Calgary. But routine isn't always the fun way, I think. Without routine, each day is vastly different and leaves me open to all different options.
I've come to realize that God is really the only stable thing in life, the one who should be at the start of my routine and the only one who knows where my path is heading even though it's twisting through the overgrown jungle and I can't see anything but an occasional flash of sunlight through the thick bush. It's exciting an almost scary to walk with your eyes closed, but I have a promise that when I'm allowed to open them it will be absolutely beautiful.

Back in Town

2007-05-08T08:19:00.000-06:00

I'm finally at home in Canada, no longer lost in Asia, though they were a little reluctant in letting me go. I took the first train out of Takanosu early Saturday morning to catch the shinkansen out of Akita City at 8:02am; I wanted to get into Tokyo earlier than I needed to be to catch my flight so that I could spend some time with my friend Yuki, who moved there with her family last month. After having lunch together we decided to go to the airport super early, which turned out to be a super huge blessing.
I had finished packing my bags the night before - apparently too well because a few of them were quite dense. I was about the first one in line to check in for my flight, because it was still 3 hours until takeoff, but wow did I need that time. First of all, one of my carry-on's was a couple of kilograms too heavy so I was ordered to try to repack my bags to rearrange the weight a little. So I did, displaying everything from my blowdryer, Japanese textbooks and a pink and white stuffed dog Atsuko's sister gave me in the process. I get back to the counter to try to check my bags again, and one of my other suitcases is too heavy. Luckily I had taken enough weight out of my one carry-on that it was now light enough that I could put the extra 1 kilogram worth of stuff into. So again, over to the side and out come all my things. I felt pretty confident that my bags were ready to board the plane, so I take them back to the counter where everything is weighed again, showing they are the appropriate weight limits, only to be asked the question, "Do you have anything breakable?" I point to my one bag and tell them I have sesame oil in it in a glass bottle. The bottle wasn't the problem, the problem was the fact that oil apparently has the ability to combust on airplanes so it had to be removed. One of the check-in people at this time inserted the joke, "open sesame!"; I thought it was amusing. So after digging through my bag that had been opened for the third time, produced the oil, gave it to my friend in remembrance of me, asked if my sesame dressing would be okay to take, got it cleared by about three staff members, and closed up my bags. By this time quite a line had formed, Yuki and I had seen the contents of my bags many times, and our faces hurt from laughing.
I go up to the counter for the 4th time in the past hour and the guy who had joked about the sesame oil decided it would be funny to tell me one of my suitcases was now 2 kilograms too heavy again. I laughed a little whimper, groaning fakely that I was just trying to go home, and then I realize they're all joking and my bags are actually in perfect flying condition. We laugh again jollily and I'm on my way.
I had been assigned for an aisle seat; I hate aisle seats so I asked if any window seats were open, but no, all full. I say goodbye to Yuki-san and hike the twenty minutes to my gate and sit an wait the short time until boarding. The one of the ladies who was helping me for the past over-an-hour to get my bags under control, the one whom I had asked about the possibility of getting a window seat, comes over to me and tells me that she could maybe get window seats for me now. And bless her heart, she got me window seats for not just the flight to Vancouver, but the flight to Saskatoon as well.
And now I'm home, embarking on the next phase of my life, and it seems it will be a good change...and a little pricy: yesterday I misjudged the distance between my car and the curb and had to choke up 100 dollars for a new tire (the old one was leaking air so fast it sounded like a sprinkler).
So give me a call, I'm back in town...at least till next Monday.

Seasons

2007-05-02T03:23:00.000-06:00

Packing. It is now a word that I've come to dislike. It seems like I've been packing for days, yet my apartment still looks completely lived in... I've just gained a few impossibly dense bags.
It's weird to think that I'll be in Canada in 3 more sleeps; it feels like I'm going to be where I am right now for forever. But no matter what it feels like I've still spent the last two weeks saying goodbye. I hate long goodbyes, and this is like a goodbye marathon. I think one thing that helps my coming home feel real though, is the way my thoughts about people have suddenly yet naturally slipped tenses - from present to past. Even though it's hard to say goodbye, it actually feels like it's time to go, time to come back home.
I got a sneak preview of home today. I went with a couple of friends to see the cherry blossoms. This place is different than all the other famous places I've been to in the past 4 days for hanami (flower viewing) - it's a long long road lined by canola and cherry trees. The stark contrast from the yellow ground to pink trees is quite amazing. As we were driving I rolled my window down and it smelled just like what I remember Saskatchewan smelling like.
These past few weeks really have been a changing of seasons, not just externally but internally as well. And I've come to realize, from inside and out, is that the freshness of spring and summer is what makes the cold winter season bearable, and even almost beautiful.

Friday

2007-04-20T20:46:00.000-06:00

Yesterday morning I had my last class with one of my favorite classes (next Friday is technically my last class but we're going to HIrosaki to see the cherry blossoms instead of studying). Before ending the class early to have okonomiyaki we wrote a story together. First we chose words for every letter of the alphabet, then attempted to put every single word into one story that made sense. Yesterday's story was a continuation of last week, where there was a crying baby whose diapers were too small, a mom that was doing too many things to care, and a famous x-ray doctor who came home and told the family they were going on vacation. I thought I would share this week's story because it's hilarious (I think anyways) and we all shed a couple pounds laughing as we made it up.

On Vacation in Okinawa (continuation)
...They sailed on a YACHT and watched the WHALES. In the yacht there was a kitchen UNIT so they could eat ICE CREAM. THey took many PICTURES. The next day they went to the ZOO with the mother's SISTER. They spent a lot of MONEY. The father lost his JACKKNIFE there. When they were looking for it, they saw two men having an ARGUMENT in front of the elephants. They looked like BUSINESSMEN. Their faces were RED. The father said to them, "Have you seen my jackknife? It's my TREASURE."
"No we haven't," they replied, "We were arguing about which is better, CANADA or the United KINGDOM."
Just then they heard a gentle XYLOPHONE sound. A GENTLEMAN came closer to them. He said, "The QUEEN will be coming shortly, please be quiet."
She wore a FLORESCENT dress and was carrying an OCTOPUS, so her HEART was not so NATURAL. She said, "Today is VICTORY Day because I caught an octopus for the first time. I will be doing an EXAMINATION about animals and all of you can take part. Bless our country's DEVELOPMENT."
The End

How's that for a great story? I think it should be published...no just jokes.

Tomorrow is my Farewell Party at the church. We're having a barbeque and then I'll be doing a testimony/ talk about my year in Japan as well as singing a song for them. I just finished writing my speech yesterday.
Every Friday I take the train to Odate, and about twice a month I see the same lady; we've become friends over the year of riding the train together. Yesterday was the last time I would see her, so we went out for coffee in the afternoon. I asked her to help me with my talk by correcting my Japanese. It was actually a brilliant plan on God's part because she heard the gospel (written in my speech) in a way that was just her helping me. And she had to understand what it was about to get the Japanese right. She seemed to get it too, as she kept saying, 'oh, I see!' Also she talks in a pretty loud voice, so I'm pretty sure that everybody in Mr Donuts heard about Jesus that day too too. She got really excited about helping me with my Japanese speech, and even told me where to bow and how to speak where. When we left I gave her a New Testament (which God had prompted me to put in my backpack for her earlier this week), telling her that she could read it not read it, but she'll find out more about Jesus by reading it, whom she had said earlier she knew nothing about.
We'll see how the actual speech goes; you can pray along with me that many other people will see Jesus in it too.

Smiles Come For Free

2007-04-14T22:41:00.000-06:00

It's funny how the days where you have nothing planned always seem to fill up unexpectedly. That's what happened to us (Kaila and I) today. I slept over at the church last night so we could watch a movie. (We've discovered how to turn the sanctuary room into our own personal movie theater by moving the alter, taking down the cross, covering the windows, hanging up a big white sheet and hooking Kaila's computer up to the projecter.) So after watching Mr and Mrs Smith, a Kaila who wanted to either dance or go shoot people (spy movies do that to the average civilian), a small mishap with an exploding necklace in the dark, and an almost sleepless night because of the continual rain pounding on the roof, we got a call from our friends wondering if we wanted to go to a dolphin show. After jumping out of bed, converting our personal movie theater back to a sanctuary and having a few fresh cinnimon buns, we were in the car headed for Aomori, a city on the north coast of the main island.
We got back to Takanosu with half an hour to spare before our supper arrangement (only because the Kaneda's were late in picking us up). We had such a feast; I ate more than I have eaten since I can remember (aka Canada) and I still hurt now, about two hours later. There was corn soup, a fruity coleslaw type salad, various kinds of vegetable tempura, special shrimp and mushroom rice, a carrot loaf and mountain vegetables, followed by tea and apple cake, followed by more tea and things like cookies and nuts. Too bad I'm out of season to hibernate because I think I've eaten enough to last for a couple of long winter weeks.
Tomorrow promises to be a busy day as well with going to church in Odate in the morning and Takanosu in the afternoon, followed by a tea time and my last visit to the onsen. I think I have mixed feelings about that one...
It's weird to start thinking about going home, writing a farewell speech and planning all these activities with people as a last hurrah before I leave. It's weird to think that the life I have gotten used to is suddenly going to change again, that what I used to think was normal (Canada) will maybe suddenly not fit and I'll have to find a new normal.
But something I've learned over the last year is that to create a new normal you only need three things: a camera, bible and guitar.
Smiles come for free.

kaeru mitai ne (Looks like I'm coming home)

2007-04-04T23:50:00.000-06:00

It's now official: I'm coming home. I now have a flight to get me from my new home back to my old one. I'll be leaving Tokyo on May 5 at 7:00pm (Tokyo Time) and then and after a short stop in Vancouver getting into Saskatoon at 4:39pm the same day. Weird. Like a Time Slip. It'll be like I never got on the plane in the first place, I'll just be home.
And it's great because, mom, I'll be home for supper.
I don't have anything else exciting to write about today, but I just thought you all should know when I'll be coming home so you can plan your schedule in advance. I vote you should come to the airport to maximize my shock at being home again.

Back in Town

2007-04-03T22:49:00.000-06:00

I went to Sendai (a city 4 hours away of about 1 million on the east coast of Japan) from Friday to Monday. A couple who teaches english with the same program as me live there and were amazing and hosted me, Kaila, and two others (who teach in Akita City). It was great to get away for a bit, and do things like have real pizza with real pepperoni (for the first time in over a year), walk around downtown Sendai and shop, hear live Mexican entertainment while eating an enchillada, and go to a salon. I hadn't gotten my haircut since the end of August before I got it cut on Sunday; it feels so good to not have split ends anymore. They also had free services like hand massage and pedicure. It was a really good price too, despite having to buy nail polish remover on my way home last night (I just couldn't handle light green sparkly nails with glued on gems any longer...)
I had a shyuji lesson today. One of my students (my oldest one actually, at 75) has been teaching me the art of Japanese calligraphy for a couple of months now. It is way harder than I thought it would be; even though I know the strokes and stroke order with a pencil, it's very hard to make it look nice with a big paintbrush.
It's been one of the ways that God has so greatly blessed me over here. This lady, who is like a grandmother to me, takes me to her house after the english class and feeds me (normally curry rice because she knows it's one of my favorites), and then takes the time to teach me. She told me today that it gives her great joy, that she's so glad to be able to teach me shuji; I was happy to hear that and also expressed my joy to be learning from her...I also told her that I've turned half Japanese, and she just laughed at me.
Maybe I'm not quite Japanese yet, but I definitely do have a heart for them now, for them to know and love God like He wants them to, and I hope they've seen God's heart through me over this past year.

The 2-Month Fetish

2007-03-22T07:40:00.000-06:00

One thing that I have come to realize about myself over the past year is that I attack life in spurts. Well not necessarily Life life, but the things inside of it. I walk the same way home for about a month or two and then get bored of it, so I change the route a little; I find something I really like at the grocery store and then buy mostly that until I get sick of it, and then I start regularily eating something else; I start a pattern of how I spend my days off, but then the lack of variety starts to eat at me and I do something new.
I've come to the conclusion is about the glowing and fading of different passions we have; without the lack of passion about something for a while we would never appreciate it in the first place (ie. Hamburger Helper, a favorite song, relationship with Jesus).
Right now one of my favorite things to do on Friday afternoons is hang out at Mr.Donuts. I previously never had a fettish for this restaurant and I don't even particularily like donuts, but now I always look forwards to going. It might be the growing list of memories I have in that restaurant of sitting and talking with a friend, playing Super Mario, reading a book, doing homework and writing letters that I've come to be so fond of. It may be the atmosphere of comfortability and no time restraints.
Another great possibility for my recent addiction to Mr. Donuts is their point card. I have no idea how those points work, as the range of points I have received goes from about 8 to 42 for the purchase of roughly the same things; it's almost fascinating to me. I try to come up with theories of why some days I get more and some days I get less, but none of those theories last longer than it takes me to get to the next Mr. Donuts.
I am not complaining, though, about the way my points have accumulated in the last two months, as I am quite nearing the point of being able to receive one of their ever-changing point prizes. My new goal is to be able to bring a Mr. Donuts bath towel with me when I go back home to Canada. I would use it proudly as a member of the 'Misdo Club', even though it would be on foreign soil.
'Misdo' is another classic example of Japanese throwing together a few english words and coming up with something they proudly display as a legitimate english word. (It's Mr. Donuts put together).
Another example would be a product called 'Creap'. I would like to, at this time, begin a poll and see what you all think something like 'Creap' could be, besides that person you have a restraining order against.
Hint: "Would you like some Creap in your Blendy?"

An Amazing Thought

2007-03-07T07:15:00.000-06:00

I have just gotten that much cooler; not only do I live in Japan but I have now lived through an earthquake.
It started off as a normal day, teaching, planning, waiting for classes to begin, eating a few times, but it's now a day I don't think I'll forget for a while. My classes had just finished for the day and I was absolutely starving (having mostly salad for two meals in a day does that to you...) so I started rooting through my candy stash I keep in Kaila's room trying to find something to satisfy my belly. Then Kaila brought up the option of making baked apples that I voted for. We were just sitting on her bed finishing them up when one wall started shaking, then two, then the whole building. At first maybe I thought just a loud truck was driving by, but I soon realized I was sitting in a natural disaster. Kaila and I clutched onto each other, our eyes wide; if my face looked anything like her face I probably looked pretty scared. And then all at once it was over.
It is a weird feeling to suddenly realize everything you've thought was stable suddenly isn't; stability is something I think we all take for granted. It's easy to get lost in our own worlds, thinking we're in control, but that's really not the case; we live in a world that has a Sovereign God, and when he reaches his hand down into our world and exercises his power through things like earthquakes it makes you feel really small. And this God who controls every earthquake, who sees everything in the world and holds the universe in His hands knows me, little me, and loves me with everything He is.
That is simply an amazing thought.

Not Much of Anything

2007-03-04T22:48:00.000-06:00

I don't have anything particularily... particular anything...not much of anything to say.
I could write about how warm it is this year (last year at this time I was sleeping with eight blankets, as well as socks, long johns, sweats, about three shirts and a hoody and sometimes a touque and I was still cold, while this year I only have four blankts), how my classes are trucking on as normal (or not so normal because it's the start of the new school year in Japan and everything will be changing soon), how I'm still bringing new Japanese worship songs to the church and leading them every Sunday (I started a new one today that I had never heard before and I practiced it last night...sketchy...), how I just got back from Odate and I went to Baskin Robins again and got my same small double in a cup (the people who work in that store know who I am and they laugh at me every time I come), how my house is still gross and dirty (but Kaila agrees that there's a weird dust in this country that gets everything covered again right as soon as you clean), how I've been trying to write a song but it won't come out (I'm still frustrated even though I've come to realize they're not my songs and I really don't control the pace God decides to give them to me...), how I'm starting a Jeremiah correspondance course with CLBI tomorrow and there's so much work it's overwhelming (if I was doing school full time I think it would still take about two weeks to finish), how me and Kaila are going to the Toyomura's house tomorrow for okonomiyaki (they are my amazing Japanese parents who have decided they're coming to my wedding and doing a speech...not that I'm getting married anytime soon...and who are oh so close to getting baptized, thus declaring themselves as Christians in this country), how I've been speaking a lot of English lately and my Japanese is getting lost (this also is frustrating but I've noticed a pattern of intense learning and then platau-ing, so I'm hoping I'm on a platau)
... so like I said, I don't particularily have much to say (which might be a good thing because it's time for bed).

My (Incomplete) List

2007-02-20T10:24:00.000-06:00

I have been tagged in a game I was not aware I was a part of, but since I'm such a sport I'll play too. What I can gather is that people who are tagged make a random list up to five...or something like that. So I will make a list. Here I go.

Things I'm looking forward to about going home:

1) being close to my family and friends (by close I mean a physical closeness where I can see them most every day...I've found an uncanny level of the other sort of closeness with people while I've been halfway around the world...)

2) going to church, singing to and worshiping God from the heart with many other people and just soaking for a while

3) being in a culture where it's not weird or awkward to touch someone or give them a hug

4) the smell of fresh laundry, a drying machine, and stepping out of the shower and using a towel that doesn't stink (or into a room where I can see my breath)

5) I honestly can't think of another thing. I've been learning to be satisfied with where I am and what I have and who I don't have during my time here in Japan; therefore, (yes I did just say 'therefore') nothing else comes to mind.
I can't think of really any food because I love Japanese food, and maybe now even prefer it to what I've grown up with (yay vegetables, rice and tofu!!!).
I know even in saying it'll be nice being around my friends and family at home, I'll miss the people I've come to love in Japan.
I don't miss the flatness of Saskatchewan too much; it's absolutely gorgeous living in the mountains among the rice fields and forests.
I can't say I'll love being back in my native tongue all the time because Japanese is addicting to me and I'll miss not hearing it all the time (even when I have a day in Japan without much Japanese I start to get antsy and want to hear it again...).
I'm tempted to say I'm looking forward to having no responsibility, but you can't escape responsibility; it's a part of growing up and being human in this world. Even when I go home I'll have responsibilities, though they might seem easier from over here (the grass is greener mentality).

So that is my list of 5, no matter how incomplete it is because it only goes up to 4.

Two Conclusions and Some Questions

2007-02-17T00:41:00.000-06:00

I'd like to start off by saying that I taught an entire class today with a piece of rice leftover from lunch stuck to the front of my shirt; there's no point in this story other than the fact that I find it really funny.

Another thing I'd like to say is that my suspicions have been confirmed: I really do live in a group home. I've had this chanting neighbor for a while now, and anybody I ever see in the halls is a little...not normal...and there's a building across the parking lot that actually says 'group home' on it, so I put three and three together and came up with the conclusion that a group home had moved in around me; it's a conclusion I've been trying to tell myself for the past couple months is incorrect and that I should stop labeling people in my head, even if they do seem skittish when I see them or if they chant and laugh at two in the morning. But then one day a few weeks ago Arnie was dropping me off at home just as the group home van (as was written on the side) was pulling out and he said, "looks like the group home's going on another excursion", to which I pointed and said, "hey! There's my neighbor!" who was in the van. So that's it; I now live in a group home...and I'm only 20.

I went to Mr Donuts today, got some endless refill coffee and sat down to read some C.S. Lewis. I didn't particularily like the coffee (not enough sugar) but I somehow felt that those refills were like my ticket to staying seated at the table for 4 my things were sprawled out all over; I ended up having two and a half cups. Conclusion: there's nothing like sitting down with a cup of something hot in a place somewhere warm with a book written by C.S. Lewis. I think I have a lot to learn from that man.

I've been doing chapels for the last couple weeks in three of my classes about the rich young man who came to Jesus and asked what he needed to do to get eternal life. Considering I'm attempting to do it in another language I really should put more preparation into it, but this is how it goes: when I pull out the book with the story in it I say, "Jesus, can you please help me with this?" And then I dive in with Japanese that's not mine, praying the entire time. More than once I've felt like someone just trying to sell eternal life or someone that's part of a cult telling others they can live forever if they just do such and such. What's the deal about eternal life anyways, and why am I trying to convince people who say they don't need it that they actually do?
So I try for other approaches. I ask them questions and don't necessarily wait for the answers; I just want to make them think. I ask what they think is after death, and after a long pause where they think about this question they've never thought the answer to I confront them with two options: eternal life and eternal death. I ask them what they think heaven is like, which leads to questions like 'what kind of god is God?' which leads to conclusions like 'eternal death is existance without God, and existance without God is an existance without love'. Then I ask them which they would prefer. I ask them what they think someone needs to do to get into heaven. They respond with things from the story like following the commandments or selling everything you have and giving it to the poor. Then I lead them back to the story and point out that that's not even enough. This week we ended off with the disciples' question of 'who then can be saved?' They don't know, but I'm hoping that they will be thinking of that question until their next class where they will see the answer as 'everyone, even you, not because of anything you can do but because of what Jesus did'.
So please pray for my students in those three classes that have a chance to hear from God themselves, and that they will listen to the voice prodding to them in their head.
The only thing that I can do is ask questions and trust that God will give them the answers as they draw conclusions in their own hearts.

Valentine's Day Rhapsody (Blues)

2007-02-15T07:00:00.000-06:00

It's the Boxing Day of Valentines Day today. Happy Valentines Day to me. Kaila and I had a splendid time making about 90 cupcakes for the kids to decorate in the classes yesterday and today...by that I mean....we should both not cook. Or attempt to. It's funny because we used box mixes and things still went all haywire. We decided to color one of the batches so the dough would be all pink and festive, but it turned out looking on the nuclear side of inedible. Those were the underbaked pink ones. There were brown pink ones and lightly tanned pink ones as well. Then there were the white ones which varied from white to hardly able to distinguish that they're supposed to be white.
We had all of the sprinkles picked out that the kids would use but then we realized that we needed something to stick them to the cupcakes. We checked in the Nordaas' fridge, and alas, no whipped cream; we checked the cupboard and oh no, no icing sugar; we checked the clock and oh wow, gotta make something up quick cuz the kids will be coming. So we decided to make buttermilk icing (a double recipe) which did not turn out so well - it's quite orange and tastes like pure butter. And now we have to figure out something to make that uses 8 egg whites.
But the kids enjoyed it and said they were good, even though me and Kaila were secretly grimicing inside and praying that no one would get deathly ill.
Oh buttermilk icing, angel food cake and Valentine's Day. We ruined all three in one go.
And Kaila gave me sembei (rice cracker) for Valentine's Day, and we ate on the heated carpet as we mourned.
But things are looking up because we're going snowboarding on Monday. Oh and Starbucks, where things always seem to feel normal.
And now we will attempt to get home safely and not get blown off the bridge into the murky depths below. I've never heard such hard consistent wind before or seen horizontal falling snow...hard chunky rain-snow.
Tomorrow must be better cuz it's Odate Day...and Mr Donuts Day.

2007-02-13T07:13:00.000-06:00

Us looking at the Hina Dolls in the Odate museum and being paparazzi-ed by the newpaper men,

Yuki and Heather in front of the candy trees,

us in $10 000 kimonos,

and Heather using the "please use freely" glasses at the train station. Love the face. We were told they are for the old people, but why don't they bring their own glasses? Question of the day...Answer?

2007-02-13T07:04:00.000-06:00

Some other random Tokyo pictures...the endless sea of lights from the highest observation deck in Tokyo Tower, Disney Sea pictures (us on a kiddie ride making it look scary, wearing special glasses at the Magic Carpet Theater before we were supposed to, the no fish smoking sign at Mermaid Lagoon, our Indiana Jones ride survival picture).

SumoTown

2007-02-13T04:50:00.000-06:00

Here are some pictures of the sumo tournament we got to go see in Tokyo last Sunday. It was amazing. They actually only fought for like 5-20 seconds, but the whole fight preparation took forever, like 3 minutes. They threw some salt, went into the ring, squatted, faced each other, left the ring, drank some water, threw some more salt, went back into the ring, lifted their legs and squatted again. Talk about a warm up and a half. What a day.
And a sumo carrying a briefcase just for fun...

2007-02-13T04:44:00.000-06:00

Here are some random pictures from Tokyo...me and Heather in the world's largest ferris wheel in Yokohama, us in wooden cutouts in Asakusa (Heather's a playing god and I'm a singing god), and Fumiko and I playing with sunglasses while we were waiting in the mall for the movie to start.

Highlight Reel

2007-02-10T22:53:00.000-06:00

Here are a few highlights from the last couple of days:

-getting to go see a sumo tournament in Tokyo...and then taking pictures with them outside

-being a kid again at Disney Sea, where it's cool for grown men to wear Mickey Mouse ears (or Minnie) and hang big pink buckets of popcorn from their neck...and having my glasses cleaned by the rollercoaster misting water at me at high speeds

-trying on Gucci sunglasses in the Ginza store without shame

-wearing a $9000 kimono... and then taking it off the same time as Heather to reveal to everyone in that high-class place we already felt awkward in our matching t-shirts that say in bright kiddie lettering "Love Tokyo Tower" right on the front

-hearing my neighbor chant and seeing my breath in my apartment (just kidding about this one...)

-discovering the Japanese version of crepes...though we haven't found any as good as the first one we had in Shibuya

-receiving scented toilet paper that teaches you Japanese (or English), not once but twice. Right now I'm working on learning about sea life... the picture of the sea otter (rakku) is my favorite so far. Soon I'll graduate and move on to something else like classroom supplies or vegetables.

-discovering what it's like to laugh with your whole body again

-eating a parfait as big as your head...with your mouth open

-drinking tea and stretching in the morning

-getting filmed by a tv crew in Tokyo while I was listening to rocks (some relaxation thing they invented during the Edo period about 300 years ago)...and then not even a week later getting photographed by the Odate newspaper when we were looking at the Hena Doll (Girls' Day) display

no title

2007-01-31T06:33:00.000-06:00

It's amazing how life can change in one day...by that I mean you wake up one morning and walk to a bus station early in the morning, wait for a bit (of course listening to music) and then all of a sudden one of your best friends who you haven't seen in almost a year is getting off a bus. And then you continue to do all the same things that you've done every week of the past year but it all feels new because that person is with you now.
Weird.
But I like it.
And we're going to Tokyo on Friday. How exciting.
Life is so different around here, starting two weeks ago when Kaila came to begin teaching. It's almost hard to describe what it's like to have people my age around and be able to laugh and just hang out again.
So I've been thinking about what I should do when I come home. If I should work, and if so where; go to university, if I do, what to take; run off and join the circus, and if so, which circus is the most reputable...
Any suggestions?
I need my own personal life counsellor...and a maid. Maybe I could be so lucky as to aquire a 2-for-1: both of those in the same person. Apply here.

Some Random God-Thoughts

2007-01-24T00:22:00.000-06:00

I've been thinking lately about a lot of things, but here are some of the things that have run through my mind:

-Christians need to starting learning how to dance with their hearts instead of just teaching each other how to play Dance Dance Revolution. In other words, we need to stop reducing the gospel ( which is essentially a love story) into formulas and facts and start focusing on their current place with God, the reality of who we are in Christ and what he wants to do for us and what we should do in response to his love.

-You can't quantify a religion based on love. What counts more than how much or how long you read or prayed is that you wanted to do it at all, that you fought through everything else the average busy daily life is shouting at you to do and spend time with Jesus. Love can't ever be quantified.

-God teaches people to swim by throwing them in the deep part of the ocean, not studying strokes in the classroom. The most effective way to learn is to fail.

-God is just as concerned with saving people individually as he is the whole world. I tried to categorize him and figure out what exactly he was trying to save, if he's more of a universal savior than a personal savior, but he told me that I was separating him too much, taking him out of one box to put him in another when really I should be taking out my cardboard partitions. God encompasses all and therefore can have more than one purpose; therefore, God is equally concerned with individual people and the whole world being restored to him.

There's a lot of things that I have yet to learn, and there's a lot of things that God has opened my eyes about. It's easy to lose perspective sometimes, but sometimes it's almost easier to gain perspective by removing yourself from the situation; it's like being able to calculate the trigonometry of the distance between Pluto and the sun of you move the third point out far enough. God's been doing that to me.
What I've discovered is that the world is ugly. People go to places like India and are shocked by the blatant display of idols everywhere when really it's the same in the western world; they're just blinded to what they're used to. The West if full of idols like celebrities, things, image and it shouts at you from everywhere relentlessly, and we've just become numb to it. Just because we don't have mini buddahs, shrines and temples, alters to the sun and fertility gods on every corner doesn't mean our culture is not steeped in god-worship, in desecrating the very God who died to try to open our eyes, or actually to enable our eyes to be opened. It's sad how people don't see the great chasm that separates them from God; the sparkle of things on this side distracts us from seeing how deep and endless the pit really is.

another Ten Minutes

2007-01-11T15:05:00.000-06:00

Here I am, sitting in my semi-heated apartment, cold but not wanting to leave. In ten minutes I must go out into the wind and snow (which is really quite mild to what it sounds like it's like in Saskatoon these days...we actually got snow that stayed this week) and walk to the church to plan my lessons for today and tomorrow. I hate planning. If I've learned one thing this year is that I'm a horrible planner, and I need a mother with me everywhere to sit me down at the beginning of each month and write out a schedule for myself.
Maybe it's not just that I hate planning, but I hate the fact that I have something to do. This week is my first week off of holidays, and I was just starting to unwind and relax, only to be thrust back into this endless cycle of teaching and learning and frustration.
I am also getting antsy to come back home; it's been almost a year since I've been gone. I'm ready to step back into the life I've called mine since I was a child, instead of constantly being stretched into someone that is so totally foreign to me. I had the first Japanese lesson I've had in almost two months this morning, and my teacher re-checked with me that I was still planning on going home the first week of May. I was like yup! - all happy that it's almost May (despite the fact that it just turned winter here...), and then she threw me off by saying, 'good! Another half year!' and I just about choked. I was just starting to think coming home was close, and then I get blindsided by the thought of being here for another half year. Even though in reality it's only another four months, it was a good reminder to keep my head in Japan while I'm here.
But at least I have things to look forward to in this never-ending coldness of winter in Japan. (It's not that it really gets any colder than freezing, it's just that every room you live in is about that temperature too, so you never completely warm up.) Kaila is coming as a teacher, getting into Japan tomorrow and coming up to Takanosu on Tuesday; it will be nice to have someone my age around again. And by the time I start finding fluency in English again by conversing with Kaila, Heather will be here, for which I am eternally excited (whatever that means...it just sounded good :) )
But alas I have gone three minutes past my ten and I now have to complete the rest of the day in teacher mode, back to teaching real classes because Christmas play practice is behind us. How disappointing.
Another day in a string of days that become weeks and months that I must think about only one at a time.

The Last Installment of Tokyo Pictures

2007-01-05T07:32:00.000-06:00

This is the famous Kaminari-mon (gate) that we and a million other people all picked the same time to go see. This little old man just happened to walk in front of my camera as I pressed the 'take picture' button, but I love him for it. The other one is just a regular tourist picture of me and Atsuko.
We went searching in a very quiet place in Tokyo (it being the university town and all the students had gone home for New Years) to take this picture. Unfortunately the coffee shop was closed that day, but one day I wanna go back to see if I get a free drink.

And the last random picture is taken out of the second floor window of McDonalds into a building across the street. We had earlier gone in search for sumo wrestlers because I wanted to meet one and get my picture taken with him since we were in sumo-town, but no luck. We had just given up and stopped for a snack at McDonalds when I looked out the window and saw these huge men lumbering around in the building across the street, stretching and giving each other massages. It was amazing because I actually got to see one, even if it was just in the creepiest way possible (for them) because I was peeping through the window at them. And to make the story better, the song that was playing on the radio just that minute was something like, "I just wanted to meet you..." We had a good laugh.

More Tokyo

2007-01-04T22:42:00.000-06:00

The city with an identity crisis... This little guy was part of my New Year's feast

The creepy doll display in the window of the Gucci store...and the crowded-est street I've ever been on, the market area in Ueno. There's just not people like that in Takanosu; I think the entire town of Takanosu could fit on a Tokyo train, and the town (including the mountains and rice fields) could take up the area of one of the airports.
The Fuji Television building, one of the craziest buildings I've ever seen.

Things in Tokyo

2007-01-04T05:00:00.000-06:00

We went to the Imperial Palace but could only get this far; there was a man standing there guarding the bridge to get into the grounds.

We went to Tokyo Tower and climbed the 600 stairs to the top (but it still cost the same price as taking the elevator - I think there should've been some sort of price break for using the stairs...) On the way up we watched the sun go down right beside Mt. Fuji; once we were un-seasonally sweaty from the climb, we had an ice cream cone and watched the city lights blink on and form an endless sea of lighted city.... and then we climbed back down because the elevator line was too long. haha.

There's a picture of the ceiling of a crazy building in Ginza that looks like a boat, like Noah's ark or something... a rich, style-sensitive Noah.

And then just a regular picture of the main street in Ginza at night.

2007-01-04T04:55:00.000-06:00

Somehow the gingerbread house got left out so I put it in, along with a Lego viking I found in a mall one day and a picture from Christmas dinner.

Christmas Memories

2007-01-04T04:22:00.000-06:00

The amazing Christmas cake I had with my Friday morning ladies' class; me and my high school student finishing our gingerbread house; angels, shepherds and wisemen before performing their play. Happy Week-After-Christmas.

Another Christmas Past

2006-12-29T05:36:00.000-06:00

It has taken me four whole days to get around to writing this blog. It's hard to write about Christmas when it feels like it was a few months ago instead of just a few days ago. Actually, Christmas this year was quite anticlimatical; on the Japanese calender it's just another work day, another school day, that you might get a present or two and eat Christmas cake - as soon as it's over, it's over. There's no Christmas leftovers like Christmas lights hanging on the houses until February, no growing piles of Christmas trees in mall parking lots, no family get-togethers and no Christmas sales. You just blink and it's gone. I actually got a late Christmas card in the mail yesterday and I felt really weird opening it, like it was completely the wrong season.
But none-the-less I thought I would share some Christmas memories with all of you that I did not get to share in the yultide with in Canada this year.
-Of course there were all my little Japanese-Israelite children speaking poorly accented English. We did the Christmas story play in two towns, so we had performances on back to back days, which was quite hectic.
-I unexpectedly got a gingerbread house kit from home; it was amazing. I would open the box and the scent of gingerbread and cinnamon came wafting out. What a good Christmas smell. I built it with my one high school girl during class. She had never made one, and most people who saw it after had never really seen anything like it in real life and were all fascinated by it. I'm a little embarrassed to say this, but that candy was sooo sweet!! I could hardly eat it. I was saddened by how much my mouth's capacity for sugar has changed and I wonder if it'll ever work back up the tolerance I had to sugar that I had before. Then we all ate it on Christmas Day after Christmas dinner.
-Bonita and I made the traditional Christmas dinner for the people in our church (which is not huge). We made turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, glazed carrots, a baked squash dish, buns, broccolli salad, a danish kringle, and my grandma's kringle. None of the 9 Japanese people that were there had ever had anything like it in all their lives, and it was really funny watching them eat and comment on things; it's interesting how different cultures just take different things for granted, like how I took all those Western Christmas traditions for granted. Bonita kept saying how everything was in America, and how it was a traditional American meal (while I shouted in my head "Canada!"...I'm patriotic that way) and how it felt just like home. I couldn't help but disagree with her. There was nothing about it that felt like home; everybody was talking Japanese. (Actually, I'm not gonna lie, it felt like Christmas all day until the Japanese people showed up.) So for Christmas Day there was Christmas decorations and Christmas food, but the atmosphere was nothing like Christmas at all.
-During a Christmas party in my Friday morning ladies' class we sang a couple of carols. When we were singing Joy to the World in Japanese one of the ladies started making a ruckus. We all stopped singing and asked her what the heck was going on. Through her laughter she told us that she had confused the meaning of the chorus. In Japanese it's "shuwa kimaseri", which means "the Lord has come". It's pretty straightforward, but she had always thought it was written in one alphabet instead of another, which completely changes the meaning. So instead of it being the Lord coming, written in old honorific Japanese it turned into someone coming yelling a Japanese comic hero fighting noise. Think ninja noise and picture fighting hands and then say this word: 'shuu-WA!'. And that's how Jesus came. I laughed everytime I sang that song for the next two days. I hope I remember it next for year.
AND...OH WOW. I'M ON A JAPANESE FRIEND'S COMPUTER AND I JUST ACCIDENTLY HIT SOME SORT OF CAPS LOCK BUTTON BUT I CANNOT FIND FOR THE LIFE OF ME HOW TO TURN IT OFF. BEATS ME.
BUT, AS I WAS SAYING....
AND THOSE ARE SOME OF MY CHRISTMAS MEMORIES OF THIS YEAR. AFTER SPENDING TWO DAYS IN AKITA CITY WITH DIFFERENT PEOPLE, THEN SPENDING TWO DAYS ALL BY MYSELF AT HOME IT'S TIME TO GEAR UP FOR NEW YEARS. I'M LEAVING TOMORROW MORNING FOR TOKYO FOR FIVE DAYS. THAT'LL BE A CHALLENGE IN ITSELF, THE LONGEST STRAIGHT PERIOD OF TIME I'VE EVER SPENT IN JAPANESE. I THINK I'LL EITHER COME BACK FLUENT OR SEVERELY DEPRESSED. THERE'S NO CHANCE OF BECOMING FLUENT, SO I'LL TRY HARD TO BE SATISFIED WITH TALKING ABOUT WHERE WE'RE GOING AND WHAT WE'RE EATING.
SO...I GUESS THAT'S THE YEAR. AND NOW I CAN ALMOST SAY "I'M COMING HOME THIS YEAR".
HAPPY NEW YEARS! (HAHA THAT ALMOST DOESN'T NEED AN EXCLAMATION MARK BECAUSE IT'S ALREADY CAPITALIZED)

The Christmas Typhoon

2006-12-23T22:51:00.000-06:00

I have just survived a storm...
How do I explain the busy-ness? Yesterday was Christmas in Odate, which was busy, but that now seems like a holiday in Hawaii compared to what today was. Yesterday was only a Christmas party with my ladies class in the morning, decorating cookies with all the kids before they put on their Israelite gear and rehearsed their memorized English lines in the afternoon, then the adult party at night. Today was....wow.
I rolled out of bed at 10:15 (forty-five minutes after my alarm went off), and, after taking an hour for myself instead of hurrying to be on time (justifying it because I hadn't even been home for twelve hours yet), left for the church. There we spent a frantic two hours getting ready for the next eight hours of endlessness. We decorated cookies with about 60 kids, then did the English play (I will insert that all the kids did amazing and I now know what a proud mom or dad feels like when they see their kids do well), had a tea time, an ocarina concert, a candle light service, another tea time, pizza making, song singing, and then finally cleaning up and going home.
It is now 10:15. My jacket is still on (mostly because it's freezing in here), my house is a mess (I have absolutely no time to even clean it even a little) but thankfully my neighbor is not chanting tonight; that's enough to make anybody happy.
I will note that I never want to have Christmas with this level of franticity (if that's a word) ever again.
One of my responsibilities was the candle service. I took the Christmas story portions of the bible and highlighted them into parts, like 'angel', 'narrator', 'wisemen', 'King Herod', so it wouldn't be boring for everybody listening if they just read the story straight through. Then I had it all arranged into sections so they do a little reading, then we stop and sing a carol, do more reading and sing again, and so on. Then I gave the members of our church parts last week, which we practiced a few times. But today the narrator decided not to stop in the middle of the Matthew account to switch into Luke, and it got read straight through, despite my reminding him right before he started. And there was nothing I could do; I tried stopping him during the first few verses of the magi story, but he just kept on plugging through the story. Consequently, the wisemen showed up at the stable before Jesus had even been born, and even before Mary and Joseph had travelled to Bethlehem; a song or two also got cut out because of the mistake.
I was more than a little frustrated that the story got messed up so badly, but mostly because my apparent lack of being able to communicate. But alas, it was one of those things I just had to let go and let happen, and go on with singing 'Joy to the 'World'.
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve...so the calender says. My calender says church and then an English Christmas party in Aikawa (which I am obligated to attend and I really don't want to go to). Maybe Christmas Day will be less busy; Bonita and I are just making Christmas dinner for some church members. Boxing Day: going to a doctor in Akita City early in the morning and who knows what else in the afternoon. The next day: going to Akita City again with a friend for shopping, Starbucks and puricura. The day after: collapse... and don't feel the least bit guilty for not leaving my house (haha or even my bed).
So yes this is Christmas. A perk to being 'abroad' for Christmas is that every day you come home there's mail in your mailbox...even if you have no idea who it's from...I'm definitely not complaining.
I'm sure this is a Christmas I will remember years and years down the road. It's like 'Baby's First Christmas', except in my situation it should be called 'Adult's First Christmas'... my Christmas typhoon.

Christmas as Mary

2006-12-16T11:51:00.000-06:00

There is something that is just so cute about little Japanese children dressed up to look like Israelites.
Yesterday was the dress rehearsal for the English Christmas play in one of the cities I teach at; the performance is next week. A little Joseph pulling little Mary in a cardboard box donkey to the painted sheet stable; little shepherds warming their hands over a flashlight and tissue paper fire and little angels appearing to them in tinsel and white drapes singing hallelujah; 4 little wisemen (one of who's Magi hat keeps tipping over) following a star taped to a broomstick handle to King Herod's chair (where the king keeps untying his servant's costume so it falls off), and bringing three fancied up cookie tins from Tokyo Disneyland to a baby doll Jesus. I think this is how Christmas is supposed to be, never perfect and always a lot of fun.
But I made it through the week and once again it's Saturday. On Monday night I was seriously wondering how I would be able to function for the next five days; I was sick from a head cold, had absolutely no energy and was fed up with teaching. I showed up at the church to lesson plan on Tuesday morning and was fighting the whole time to not cry because I was so burnt out. But I'm under amazing missionaries, and they offered to teach my night classes for me so I could go home after the morning class. God gave me just enough energy to not collapse during that class, and then I went home and spent the next two days in bed. I think I've had more rest this week than I've had in the past two months; I can't remember the last time I was at home for so many consecutive hours. It was really weird, but amazing all at the same time.
Next week is full of Christmas parties and Christmas play practice, and then it will be over and I'll be in Tokyo...and then it will be next year.
But I will not think of that yet. For now, for today, for this weekend, I'm just content to be doing much of nothing and not having much responsibility.
I've decided that it's so much easier to me a Martha in this world, and it feels like heaven when you actually have time to be a Mary.

Stalling with Kisses

2006-12-10T10:24:00.000-06:00

So here I am Sunday morning, eating Hershey Kisses and stalling because I don't know what to wear today. From what I can tell so far, today's going to be a good day. I can see a little blue sky through my bevelled balcony door/window, this morning I could actually get out of bed without much trouble, I can't see my breath in my apartment today, and my neighbor didn't chant very loud for very long this morning. All in all, so far a good day.
I went to Hirosaki yesterday with one of my friends and her family; there is a Christian book store there with a little coffee shop and she wanted to check it out. So we got dropped off at this tiny place while her husband took the kids to the onsen. And we continued to sit there and sit there, look at the books, eat lunch, eat dessert, look at the books again, and sit and sit and sit; I just about went crazy. Yesterday was one of those days I had more the attention span of a kid than an adult, and being trapped in this tiny place for over three hours with someone your conversations are very limited with was a great test of patience for me. And a little frustrating because I'm not fluent yet. But alas, just another day in Japan.
I was in a couple newpapers last week. How exciting. The Christmas 'Concert' out at the ski hill last Sunday night attracted TV cameras and newspaper reporters, and I happened to be in the pictures that made it in the newspapers. One is of me, sitting down playing the guitar and singing with a lady from New Jersey (she went home last week). It's quite an odd picture because it's from the back, and you can only see Nancy's arm; I think they were aiming for the crowd shot. Nonetheless it appeared on the front page. But the TV special is on the 22, and I'm hoping someone will tape it for me. I'm practically famous. Just kidding.
But in the process of stalling I've proceeded in becoming excessively late. I must get out of my pajamas now...And so it will be just another Sunday in Japan, going to two church services, two fellowship times, and going out with the church at night. Busy, busy, busy...and today's a rest day.
God's peace to you all...and a reminder to not take all the friends around you for granted, and the hugs that you receive every day. Japanese don't give hugs.

(Sing:) It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

2006-12-03T21:47:00.000-06:00

It has been snowing for a few days now, and it's perfect because Christmas is in three weeks. I was wondering if we were going to have a white Christmas over on this side of the world, or if it was just going to keep raining eternally. It seems like winter came overnight; one day it was rainy and I was still toting my umbrella, then the next day this Japanese countryside was turned into a snow-globe.
I just got home from a Christmas party and have Christmas songs running through my head. That, together with complete peace in your heart, is enough to make anybody satisfied. My church went to a community party at a ski hill and did a special Christmas 'program' - the poster that was distributed falsely advertised us as a 'concert'. Basically we sung carols, and did a candle service. I also sang and played one of my songs that I wrote less than a month ago. It was amazing to me because we were in a big concrete ski lodge with high ceilings and I was concerned about my little voice carrying...but I asked God for a supernatural mic, and wow, yeah, you could definately hear me. I just hope the 70-ish (non-Christian) people who were there heard not just another song, but a little bit of Jesus too.
Yesterday, after the ladies' Christmas tea at church, I went to my friends' (Japanese parents') house to decorate the Christmas tree and sleep over. It was a lot of fun; we laughed a lot, and I laughed inside a lot too. Christmas here is so different than at home, mostly because I'm not attached to any traditions here that I've grown so used to from a lifetime of Christmases. We decorated a small (but large by Japanese standards) Christmas tree with a string of lights, a string of gold star garland, and a small (not even grocery size) bag of tree ornaments...compared to the huge tree and 2 moving boxes full of ornaments at home. There were only about 4 different kinds of tree ornaments, including balls that I think look like cat play-toys, cotton ball fluffs and plastic red apples.
Christmas will definitely be different this year, but different in a good way. Because the only way I'm going home for Christmas is in my dreams, I will have to adopt where I am now as home, complete with their Kentucky Fried Chicken and Christmas cake. But with the way things are going now I will have no problem with adopting this country as home, because they are quickly adopting me.

A Second Chance at Thanksgiving

2006-11-25T22:43:00.000-06:00

It turns out that I did get Thanksgiving after all. It figures... why not go to Japan to celebrate American Thanksgiving? I got invited to go to Akita City with all the other LBWM English teachers and we had a feast together, complete with a turkey imported from Minnesota for the occasion. I honestly had no craving for that kind of food, and it didn't excite me so much to see the stuffing and mashed potatos and everything sitting on the table waiting to be eaten; I think if given a choice now, I would choose Japanese food over Western food. But after saying grace and taking my first bite, I remembered why this meal has become tradition, and why it turns ordinary people into gluttons (though I did not eat too much, I just got comfortably full). I had forgotten what turkey tasted like, how wonderful stuffing is, and how creamy mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie are.
It was a cozy day with fun people.
A cozy day where I spent most of my time trying to take over the world; I think I spent about five or six hours playing Risk. I just didn't expect to stay in the game so long, as I've only played about twice in my life and I was playing with a bunch of men. But much to my surprise, by the time we stopped I had control over three continents and was winning the game. Who knew. I bet I did so good because I started out with 'Alberta' (which geographically was BC, Alberta and Saskatchewan); really I was just defending my hometown.
I am very thankful to have the life that I'm living right now, and thankful for all the blessings that have been pouring down on me. And just one of those blessings was celebrating Thanksgiving with a bunch of friends and amazing food in a warm place when I originally though I never would be able to.
I guess when you give things up and decide to be content living without them, sometimes they get given back in a way you never thought of.

So This is Goodbye

2006-11-14T22:20:00.000-06:00

Today I became shockingly aware of how uncertain life really is. This afternoon while doing my CLBI homework, waiting for another class to start, the pastor of the church I was at came in; he told me that one of my students had died on Sunday. I didn't know what to say; she wasn't even 40 yet. She went to sleep Saturday night and just like that, this world had seen the last of her.
It's weird to think that just a week ago she was sitting in my class, struggling with my other students to understand why English is the way it is, and now she's just a pile of ashes in a clay jar, waiting to be put in a grave.
It made me wonder if I had done all that I could for her, or given her all that she needed to take. I wonder if I had smiled at her enough and brought her enough of God's joy. I wonder if there was more that I could've done for her and if I had been as loving towards her as I could've been. I had no idea that last Tuesday would be the last time I would smile at her and ask her how her day was.
But now she's having the best unending day of her life as, thankfully, she knows God. That at last leaves peace as an aftertaste, instead of the raw bitterness of death.
But it makes you wonder. You never really know when the last time you're going to see somebody on this earth is going to be. You don't know if, when you leave your house you'll ever come back, when you say goodbye you'll ever say hello again, or in this case, when you go to sleep if you'll wake up in the morning.
Did you leave a good impression with every last person you talked to? Did you act in God's love to everyone you made eye contact with? Did you sacrificially give the time to someone you knew needed it, right when they needed it?
I can only pray that I do this to each of my students, no matter how frustrating it is to try to communicate with them, and each of the people I see when I'm out going places every day. What kind of impression am I leaving? Do I let them hear heaven every time I laugh, leave behind a fingerprint of God every time I smile, and give them a heartful of peace and joy every time I talk to them?
Peoples' eternity weighs on the way we, as Christians, treat those around us. We are God's billboards...but what kind of message are we leaving?
So this is goodbye to a student, and a fellow sister in Christ, who knew God's love and pursued knowing Him despite everything she was faced with. May the memory of her in people's minds be another billboard shouting God's grace.

My Garbage and a Beast

2006-11-13T17:26:00.000-06:00

I've decided that cleaning is just not my forte. I find it impossible to keep my apartment clean. Don't get me wrong, I do clean it (I'm not that unhygenic), but it never gets completely clean, It's a mystery to me; it's like there's a beast living in my apartment...and it's not me. No matter how well I clean the floors I always see more dirtyness, glistening in the sunlight that's shining in through the window, not even five minutes after I've finished. And more often than not it's hair. Not only am I living with a beast, but it's a hairy beast, an invisible hairy beast that must be almost bald by now. I think I've collected enough hair now to donate to cancer and make a wig.
But that's another problem. I've always wondered if hair goes in the 'burnable' garbege or the 'unburnable' garbege. Japan likes to make garbege collecting more difficult than the average country, I think, and you have to think hard before you dispose of your unwanted rubbish: seperate the plastics, but bottles go in a seperate bin (as long as you take off the labels), and if it doesn't have the 'pura' mark, put it in the regular trash; the regular trash can take most paperish items, but put styrofoam in a completely different container, only after washing it thoroughly. There's a three month calender they distribute so you can coordinate your schedule with the garbege pick-up days; some days it's burnable, some days it's non-burnable, sometimes newpapers and magazines, sometimes cans and bottles, tins another. It's quite complicated for me. I just want to throw my garbege out when it's full and stinky... but if it's not that kind of garbege day it gets to hang out in my apartment and make it stink for another few days.
So back to the hair...it can burn, but it's not such a pleasant smell when it does, so do I put it in the unburnable? You can't really make anything out of it, like a wheelchair, a handrail, or a plastic bucket, so I guess that demotes it back to the unburnable...
I think the beast should just move out. Along with my new neighbor that just moved in (I didn't used to have anybody on either side), and the guy downstairs and to the left that likes to chant/sing every morning. You can hear everybody do everything in this apartment, including the grocery bags rustling when they come home from Itoku and every time they clear their throat. I feel sorry for the other people in the apartment because of my noise though: the guitar playing and singing (sometimes at 10:30pm because I'm not home the other hours of the day), the miscelaneous thumps from the things I drop, the music I play and the phone calls at awkward times of the day. But I guess they'll survive...and I'll survive too, my never-ending adventure in this crazy country of small little things.
And when I come home and eventually have my own house I'm getting a maid.

Heiwa no Hi

2006-11-04T14:50:00.000-06:00

Today is Saturday and it's such a beautiful day. It's almost 12:30 and I'm still in my pajamas and I have nothing to do all day, except for rest. It's wonderful. I can't remember the last time that I had absolutely nothing to do or nowhere to go for a whole day. I think I was definitely starting to get burnt out mentally, emotionally and spiritually, but I'm learning the importance of rest, even if it's just 10 minutes in your day where you sit with God and get recharged to keep going for another five, seven or ten hours.
It's apple season in Japan; I've never had such such delicious apples in my life; they're just so big and red (or yellow) and juicy. Yesterday I went apple picking near Hirosaki (about 2 hours north in Aomori Prefecture) with some friends. The actual picking took only about half an hour, but we managed to stretch it into a 12 hour day together, including the drive. After we got our sack full of apples we went into the 'Apple Park' restraunt and had apple curry rice for lunch. I'm not going to lie, I was a little bit skeptical about it at first, but it was amazing. Then for 50 yen we could get fresh-squeezed apple juice by sticking one of those huge delicious apples into the stainless steel juicer and pumping it by foot. My apple was especially huge so I got one and a half cups of apple juice, all frothy and foamy on the top.
After an afternoon of shopping we went to a shrine where there was a concert at which they played ancient and rare Japanese musical instruments. I cannot even describe the sound they made because I have never heard anything like it before. Some instruments played 4 notes at once and some played one, but they were never on what we would call a 'real' note that you would find on a piano; they always seemed to be in between. What they called harmony I would've called a wrong note. There also wasn't a strong beat that I could find, the music just kind of floated. It was a little eerie, but I'm glad I got to experience it. It was almost a relief to my ears to go back to the car and listen to 'normal' music.
After that we went to Yoshinoya restaurant and I had American beef for the first time in almost nine months. The cow boarders have been opening and it's a big thing here in Japan to have American beef now. I never thought that I would forget what beef tasted like, but apparently I did (I mostly eat pork).
And now I must continue my day of rest at the side of the mighty God who fights for me in everything that I can and can't see.

Health Insurance Japanese Style

2006-11-02T01:38:00.000-06:00

Today I checked out the Japanese medical system. My right ear has been weird lately and I've been kind of wondering about it. Then on the weekend there was stuff gooping out of it and the inside was all swoollen, so I decided to go get it checked out. Today was the day.
We ended up going about half an hour before the clinic opened after the lunch break because we missed the part of the sign that said "thirty" after the 2. I was wondering why we were the only people there. They finally opened and took me in. I was the first patient to be beckoned into the back room. The deep dark back room. No just kidding. It wasn't that bad. But I walked in and there were about 5 or 6 doctor type employees all just standing there, watching me. Then they led me to the big chair in pretty much the middle of this wide open room with all these masked and garbed people standing around. I felt like a bit of a specimen.
There was also a huge big screen TV in there, a couple of feet away from my big chair. I wonder what it is for. Maybe the ear doctor sits in that chair on his lunchbreak and watches TV while he eats his obento (boxed lunch).
It was really neat because after sticking ordinary tools in my ear and poking around, they stuck a camera in. So I got to see the inside of my ear today. (My ears are a little bit hairier than I had imagined...) I even got to keep a picture of the grossness they found inside of it.
So I have some sort of something trauma inside and some sort of something medicine I have to apply twice a day (which only costed about $2.00 - yay health insurance).
Somehow I seem to find the doctorish places in every city I live in, but the clinics here in Japan are no different...except the hospitals here have flower arrangement vending machines (which I think would be a real hit in Canada) and there are no Sports Illustrated and People magazines to read over and over.
I'm finally making good use of my Japanese Health Insurance.

another day, another challenge

2006-10-23T15:52:00.000-06:00

Even though today's my day off, it's super busy. (It started at 5:30am by yet another person calling who has trouble with the 15 hour time difference...but I don't mind; people can call anytime they want.) I just got back from going out with some friends for lunch and boy am I stuffed. In typical Japanese style we each got a whole big tray of food with about 7 different dishes; my one friend even got a mini wall on her tray with two different levels. Maybe it didn't help that we baked both a blueberry upside down cake and banana bread and ate some of each before we went. So I baked and ate at my house, then I went to a restaurant and ate, and now I'm sick of eating.
Tonight will be intersting though. One of my friends teaches hip hop dance, so starting tonight I'm her newest student. haha. I cannot picture it in my mind or know what to expect, so I just have no idea how to prepare myself mentally for that one...it'll be...an experience. But maybe by the time I come home I'll be cool and be able to dance haha.
The leaves have been changing color here, and kind of like the cherry blossoms in the spring, people get really excited about it. Yesterday morning I took a gondola up Moriyoshi Mountain with some friends, and then hiked the two hours or so to the top and back down; apparently you could see 100km away - it was absolutely beautiful. But maybe I would've appreciated it more if my legs hadn't been hurting so much. I do nothing for excercise (I can only say that for a couple more hours until my first hip hop lesson haha...) so it was a little humbling climbing the steep part of a mountain and realizing how un-strong I am now. But there's nothing like eating your lunch outside on a mountain; it makes it taste so much better I think.
Just a side note: I had gone up that same mountain (just not to the peak) in the winter when there was tons of snow. Yesterday when we were there, we went into this little two level warm up/information shack; last time we were there there was so much snow that we went in the door on the second level...I didn't even know there was a door on the bottom level because it was covered with snow. (I can't wait for that snow to come again...)
But I'm off...I need to start on my Hawiian Quilting potholder. I am obligated to make it because one of my students owns a Hawiian business and gave it to me to make...and I teach her tomorrow... so today is the day I begin yet another challenge.
Wish me luck, so I don't lose too much blood from the holes poked in my hands or break a leg while I'm trying to find my rhythm. :)

My Thanksgiving Resolution

2006-10-09T23:08:00.000-06:00

So today is Thanksgiving...I'm not gonna lie I had totally forgotten about that holiday; I only remembered it was this weekend because some Japanese friends were asking me exactly what it was. I did not have a feast of turkey, I did not glutton on pumpkin pie, I did not sit around and digest an overly full stomache with friends and family, but strangely enough, it was a good holiday for me.
My Thanksgiving Day consisted of driving out to Hachimantai (a Japanese-sized mountain about two hours away) and walking around; it's at a higher level than Takanosu so the leaves had started changing already; it was quite beautiful. There were natural hot springs there, but like the ones that if you go in you get boiled to death (accurately named Hell). And sure enough they did boil eggs at that place. I got one and ate it, discovering to my chagrin that it was probably only in the boiling water for about 30 seconds; the white wasn't even completely cooked yet. But I didn't die. And on we went to the top of the mountain (which was quite disappointing because it was basically flat and just covered with trees) and back down again. (Note to all you hikers out there: don't try to eat large bits of chocolate while hiking - you might accidently inhale all the extra saliva you've generated from eating and start to choke.) Then we went home and had our chestnut rice, I guess om English you would call it.
Yesterday we spent our afternoon climbing random chestnut trees in the forest, shaking them, trying to avoid all of the fist-sized porcupine balls that were falling on our heads, and searching for the nuts that had exploded all over the forest floor. It was quite an adventure. (And I picked a good day to wear white shoes and a while jacket, traipsing around in the forest like that...) Chestnuts are a lot of work to eat; the next time you get a chestnut craving, if at all possible, buy them in the store so you don't have to go hunting for them. After collecting a bag full of forest grace, we went back to the house where another two hours of work began. We had to shell each one by hand, and then shave them with a knife to get another layer of nut shell remains off.
And today we consumed our hand-picked goodness after a full and satisfying day out in nature.
So this year's Thanksgiving wasn't your typical Candian Thanksgiving, but it's a day, or weekend, I am thankful for non-the-less. In all honesty, it didn't feel different than any other day. But shouldn't that be the way Thanksgiving is? Shouldn't we be thankful everyday, no matter what's written on the calender? Thankfulness is a thing I think we often overlook and something we seldom do. (I'm becoming much more aware of being thankful after 7 months of immersion in this culture where you say thanks for weeks after somebody's done even just a small thing for you; I notice it's not so much in Canadian culture to be thankful all the time.) Shouldn't our thankfulness to others be something that's just so engrained by us, driven out of our thankfulness for God's unending mercy?
We have a lot to be thankful for, and I think we would all be better off doing what God tells us to do in the bible and make it a habit of being thankful.

A T-shirt

2006-10-06T23:31:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I went out for lunch at the new French restaurant in town. It was like being in...not Japan...except for all the Japanese people. But I'm not going to lie, I wasn't feeling so adventurous so I didn't order the cow stomache (and no one else in there ordered it either while we were there...). It was weird to have rice that wasn't sticky, and I've discovered that I can no longer use a fork; I had to switch back to chopsticks.

They are renovating some of the stairs on the platform at the train station in Takanosu. I go there every Friday morning at the same time, so I guess the workers have figured out my schedule. Today they all poked up over the tall fence/wall they were working behind and just waved so happily at me. (I know they were waving at me because I was the only one on the platform at that point, and they said a cheerful "good morning!") What a priviledge to stick out so much...

One of my friends took me to rent some movies this afternoon. I ended up with an English movie and a Japanese cartoon of Anne of Green Gables, at my friend's request. People over here just love Anne of Green Gables, and they think that because I'm Canadian I must love it too. In all honesty I've never seen the movie, read the book, or even been all that interested in doing either. But as of right now, from a couple of different Japanese friends, I have both the book and the movie just waiting to suck me into Anne-world at my apartment. How exciting. I think I'm learning how to be Canadian while I'm here in Japan.

The weather is changing drastically. It feels really cold now, and it's 13 degrees, definitely not quite weather temperature...I'm going to die. It's so hard to believe that just a few weeks ago I was wearing shorts and t-shirts and sweating, a few weeks before that unable to wear much of anything and sweating, and today I wore two short sleeved shirts, a long sleeve sweater and my down vest, pants, socks and slippers and I was still cold. It should be illegal for the temperature to fluctuate so much so fast.

Today I solved a Japanese riddle. Actually I totally just made that out to sound better than it actually is. My friend's son and his friend had this riddle book, and they were reading them to us. Really they're just grade three level problems but still...I'll share the riddle with you in English: What has only one entrance but three exits?

Home from Hokkaido

2006-10-04T01:25:00.000-06:00

It's been three days since I got home from my adventure and I think I'm fully recovered now. I went to Hakodate in Hokkaido (the northern Japanese island) with two of my students early Friday morning and we got back Saturday night. It's rather embarrassing how exhausted I became considering their ages...69 and 75. I blame it on a combination of lack of sleep leading up to getting up before 6am two days in a row, and living my entire life in Japanese for two days and a night.
We took the early train from Takanosu up to Aomori (a harbor town on the top of the main island, Honshu) and from Aomori took the train up to Hakodate...which is quite a trick considering it's a seperate island. Japanese and their engineering feats...the train went under the ground at the bottom of the ocean, so as of Friday, I've been under the ocean in a train. (But they should get rid of all the mountains before that tunnel because everybody in the train thought we were under the ocean like 3 times; by the time we were in the right tunnel under the ocean it was quite anticlimatical.)
We got to Hakodate and went straight to Onuma (a lake with a bunch of little islands in it created by the volcano spewing things into the river and blocking it off 300 years ago...so beautiful), Goryokaku (a 'Western Style' fortress/castle in the shape of a star from a couple hundred years ago...it's really only the moat and the park left, but we took the elevator up like a small CN Tower and could look at the star shaped castle grounds and the whole city), the Trapestine Convent (I never thought I would ever go to a nunnery in Japan...), stopped at the airport to go to the bathroom, went up Hakodate Mountain to watch the sunset and the city lights when it got dark (this night view is the third best in the world according to our taxi driver, next to Hong Kong and Naples, Italy...I personally thought the sunset was much better than city lights...). Then we rushed back to our hotel (which was on the ocean) for our buffet reservation. They dressed me in a yukata and we went and feasted on many things Japanese. (I think it's funny how they call a buffet a 'viking' in Japanese...all you Scandinavians can share my joy at that one...) I then had a bath and went to bed on my futon on the tatami floor.
Then next morning I woke up and had a bath again, had another feast, and left in the pouring rain for the day. We went to a famous brick shopping place on the harbor that used to be old warehouses, and then we went to board the ferry. By this time the weather had turned absolutely gorgeous for the four hour ride across the ocean from one island to another.
The whole weekend was supposed to be rainy; on the Tuesday before we left they were telling me about these dolls you hang outside to bring good weather - I told them I didn't need them because I have God and I can just ask him to bring us good weather...so I did. And we had beautiful weather. Then Saturday morning they asked me to pray for good weather again because it wasn't looking so good...so I did. And it turned absolutely beautiful. Maybe this was the biggest witness I could give this weekend, just the fact that I pray for seemingly trivial things like having good weather and God would care about me to answer, that we can pray about anything and it won't be stupid.
So we took the ferry home; they slept and I wandered around the ship, mostly outside, looking at the amazing scenery of mountains and ocean and cloud splattered sky.
I can only hope that anything that they possibly learned about Jesus in those two days will stick and grow in their hearts to a faith that will change the world around them.

Japlasian

2006-09-22T23:12:00.000-06:00

RIght now is Friday night. In approximately 36 hours I'll be standing in front of a Japanese sized congregation giving my testimony. Normally that's not a problem. Most of the time I don't plan what I'm going to say and just trust for God to give me the words as I open my mouth. That's because most of the time I don't know I'm doing it until five minutes before. But I've known about this one for about three weeks. I'm a procrastinator so of course I'm just writing it now. There's one thing that throws me off about it and makes it harder than any I've done before...it's in Japanese. What a gong show. What a need for God's grace and ability to think like a Japanese.

None of my testimonies end up being real testimonies, as in telling specific time periods in my life or how I became a Christian. I always just end up preaching and throwing random bits of my life in for details. This time is no different. I'm talking about God's love, and apparently his guidance. I didn't plan to, it just happened. I had no idea where to start, not even in English. So I prayed and then started writing and Japanese came out...kind of. Half of it was real Japanese, half of it was Erika-ese. I talk like a two year old, not even. But I guess that's really what God wants from us, to be like children, to have childlike faith. These people on Sunday will definitely be hearing childlike faith because I don't have the vocabulary or sentence structure to talk like an adult. I suppose that's fine with me if it's okay with God.

I finished writing my testimony today and had one of my Japanese friends check it. What a humbling experience. I realized that you can have like a whole language in your head, but nobody else may be able to understand it. (I think it would be fun to make up a language and then teach it to your children; your family could have their own secret code language...might mess them up for their first year of school though...) But that's a little what it felt like. Or like that whole stereotypical situation where you hand in a paper and it comes back bleeding red and has arrows pointing everywhere except in the direction you thought was right. Only about half of my sentences made it through unscathed. But that doesn't really matter. The only thing I hope for is that the message of God's love and guidance will come through. It doesn't matter if they hear all of it or not, just the fact that God loves them individually, and that my life has been changed by God enough to get up there and speak to them about this amazing love I've received...in another language, their language...one I'm definitely not fluent in. But by God's grace He will speak to them through it.

That will be the other challenge though: actually getting it out, reading Japanese in front of a bunch of year-weathered failing ears in a voice that allows them to hear. I need to install a microphone into my voice box. Maybe God will do that for me, if not for just the ten minutes I'm speaking on Sunday.
This is definitely a stretching experience for me, this whole Japan thing is...but it's all an experience I wouldn't trade for the world.
And please pray for the people hearing my God-given words of a child on Sunday.

My Fridge and a Sea Urchin

2006-09-17T13:39:00.000-06:00

I'm officially domesticating, but just in the food department. All for Lael. She's here and I decided that maybe she would not like to eat rice and tofu every day, or just whatever happens to come from the deli like I normally do. So I'm finally learning to cook for real. It's an adventure. An adventure that takes a lot of work and thinking, hurts the pride because I'm not so good, but (mostly) tastes good in the end. One day I grilled these Japanese perogies for us. We both decided we liked them better when they were a little burnt (like the first time I had made them) so I tried to do it again. And yes I did succeed in burning them. For real, who TRIES to burn their meals? Apparently I do. But since I got it the way that I was aiming for, does that mean I'm a good cook?
There's so much food in my fridge it's ridiculous. I've never had a full fridge and freezer and shelves like that since I've gotten here. So many choices for every meal. It's like trying to decide what to wear, but I guess trying to decide what you're going to digest. It's wonderful. I opened the fridge yesterday and thought that one of the lights had burnt out because it didn't cast as much light into my dark kitchen as it normally does. Then I realized there was just too much food in the way of the light. What a day.
On a side note, we went for sushi yesterday with Lael and three of my friends. It was amazing; all the food travelled right before your eyes on a conveyor belt and you just had to pick off what you wanted to eat (yes there were desserts on it and yes I did take one). When I grow up and get my own house I'm installing one of those things in my bedroom so I can just sit in bed and all this amazing food travels by, homecooked by my husband who's making everything in the kitchen. No just jokes. But it's a good thought. Of course I ate raw fish, but I also ate weird things too, like jellyfish, crab brain and sea urchin.
Oh speaking of sea urchin...I am convinced that God makes me blurt out Japanese that's wrong, just for the entertainment factor. Absolutely convinced. It's not unusual for me to substitute the right word with any one of hundreds of wrong words. And I normally know these words that I'm trying to say; I think God changes the connection in my brain in the last moment before the word comes out of my mouth. It's definitely right up to that point. Last night we went bowling after the sushi restaurant...and another restaurant.....and we were all saying goodbye and going to our cars. Now, this has never happened to me in my life, and I'm pretty sure I know the difference between when it's light outside and when it's dark outside, but when everyone was saying 'goodnight, goodbye!' I blurt out in a really loud voice, "Good morning!" And I was like, what the heck did I just say...and why did I not say goodnight like everybody else. And we all laughed.
And the sea urchin story. I should maybe tell that one. The Japanese for sea urchin is 'uni'. I have no idea why, but whenever I try to say 'uni' I end up saying 'unchi'...which may or may not mean 'poop'. So there I was sitting at the sushi bar watching those poor little sliced fish and other random sea things sliding by on the conveyor belt, someone brought up the fact I had said I was going to try uni. You only live once right, so I was like, Yeah, I wanna try some uni. But...this is where the story gets horrible. Of course I opened my mouth and out came, I wanna try some unchi! And of course I had to say it in a louder voice than normal so all my friends and everyone around us could hear, and of course the sushi man was standing right in front of me. So again, I was the entertainment of the night at my expense. In my defense, driving home last night, my one friend told me that uni and unchi look the same. I agree with her...but I shouldn't have had to say it in the restaurant.
Yeah, what can I say, life is a whole lot more interesting when you're trying to live in a different language.

Talk of Battle

2006-09-06T00:09:00.000-06:00

I have just become aware again of how important armor is when you're in the middle of a battle. And by battle I mean every day life. And by armor...I'm not sure what I mean because I don't understand it exactly; I don't know what it tangibly looks like or exactly how it works, but I do know that it consists of a belt of truth, breastplate of righteousness, shoes fitted with readiness to share the gospel of peace, a helmet of salvation, a shield of faith, and the sword of the spirit. And what I also know is that it works - but maybe more importantly: you need it.
It almost seems ridiculous or sci-fi to me that we, as humans, are in a war every day of our lives, whether we are awake or sleeping, able to see it or not, or even if we're aware of it or not. Most people aren't. Most people would say that the things that you can see with your eyes are what's real; I'm almost tempted to say that the things you can't see with your eyes are what's real. And these things that you can't see are constantly waged in a battle for your soul, either driven by the God of Love or the Lord of Hate.
In the real world, or the world that we can presently see with our physical eyes, you would be a fool to step onto the battlefield without any sort of weapon or protection; you'd get seriously injured or killed instantly. But often that's what we do as both Christians and non-Christians. The only difference between those that know God and those that don't, on this level, is that we've been told about this war. But the thing that I don't understand is that if we've been given the heads up, why do we numbly read it and go on to the next page, why do we numbly hear it and go on like the way we've been living? We have this advantage but we don't do anything about it.
God told us about this war and he told us about the armor he gives us, the armor that makes it impossible for the enemy to penetrate when we're wearing it. And if God told us obviously it's important. But why don't we listen? It would seem to me that if someone knew of a battle they would do something, anything, to protect themselves and their family. And if it meant putting on armor and fighting, most people would do it.
Even if you're a Christian you're not invincible. Your heart may be saved by God and inhabited by the Holy Spirit at it's very core, but satan is very clever at getting that core to be so enbalmed with sin and darkness to a point that it almost becomes ineffective. That's his goal for our lives, to make us ineffective Christians. And making us ignorant about the spiritual battle and the armor of God is one way he does it, paralyzing our soft heart of flesh with coating upon coating of fear or any other sin is another. We as Christians are not invincible; we need to call out to God for help all the time. Better yet, we need to live every minute of our day with God, covered in the armor he gives, and let him stand there and fight for us whenever we approach anything harmful.
Satan hates us. He hates that we are Christians, and he hates that God loves us. He's doing his best day and night to pull us away from this love and make us unresponsive to it. So of course you're going to have battles and feel the effects of them. It's like riding in a motorboat; when you're moving the boat bounces up and down on the waves as you drive over them. Reversely, if you're not moving at all in the boat, you don't bounce. It's like our lives as Christians; if we're feeling the waves and being bounced up at down it's a good thing - that means we're moving. But if we are not feeling anything, whether it be growth in our relationship with God or opposition from the devil, that's no good; it means we're not going anywhere in our faith and satan is succeeding. When you start to become an effective Christian, loving everyone in your path and sharing God's joy with everyone you see, satan will start to fight you back. He'll fight you back and you better be wearing your armor. Good thing it's free and good thing it's 100% effective. Put it on every day, if not only for the great deal that it is.
But what are you going to do, keep sitting there numbly, or put on your armor and fight?

2006-08-28T00:06:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was quite the exciting day. I have firework remains stuck to me and smell like something blew up in my face (yes it is 10:30 the next day and I still haven't had a shower...) but it was worth it. I went to Omigari with three friends yesterday. Omigari, for those of you uneducated in Japanese festivals (I don't know how you could ever be educated on those things because during the summer it seems like there's a different festival every day), is one of the biggest firework competitions in Japan. Thirty companies were competing for the title of having the best fireworks, and every year tons of people come to that one town/city to watch it. I say town/city because I'm not sure what it's like without all those people. Apparently the population is only around 40 000, but every year about 700 000 people come to watch these fireworks. I have never felt more like a fish in my life. A very white fish in a very asian sea. (I think it was not unlike what the Exodus would look like.)
Our train arrived at around 3 in the afternon and we followed the masses the 30 minute hike (in the intense heat) to the firework grounds where we found a place to sit and wait for the afternoon fireworks to start. I had never heard of afternoon fireworks before either, but apparently some genious figured out how to make it work. It's really just a lot of colored smoke and bright flashes in the sky, but it was pretty neat. Then, when it got dark, the real fireworks came. Canada Day in Sasky has nothing on these fireworks; it was quite the show. Someone figured out how to make shapes with the fireworks, so sometimes, amongst the already amazing fireworks you could see cats, or angels (really they were some sort of edible sea creature that look like angels...), stars, hearts, apples, the Qoo drink mascot.
And, someone way back figured out that fireworks are much better when they are choreographed with music. (One set even featured the Aladdin song "A Whole New World" which I may or may not have sang along with really loudly just because I knew the song; and hey, it was Aladdin, who can't help but sing to Aladdin? And all the people around me may or may not have been staring...but hey. I'm white. I can get away with a lot in this monolithic society. And I told the people I was with that gaikokujin are just naturally louder than Japanese people; they agreed.)
Occasionally the wind would bring firework shrapnel the way of the crowd. When it first started coming I was like, 'I want to catch a piece!' and then literally 10 seconds later a big one came to me, falling from the sky, and I snatched it right out of the air. I was elated. It's my newest souveneir.
But just one thing I was a little disappointed at. Fireworks are really hard to take good pictures of I've discovered. And finally after over 4 hours of taking pictures, reviewing them, erasing them, waiting for a good shot, taking it, and then erasing it because it was horrible, my batteries finally gave out. ...Right before the big finale. How disappointing. None of you will ever get to see what it looked like, but trust me, it was amazing.
There is one advantage about living in the country: not many people live there. When the fireworks were over, the train station staff were coralling people according to what train they were taking to what city, the lines were absolutely overflowing with people...except our line. Us countryfolk got to just walk straight through, past the hoards of people, straight up to the front doors and onto the train. I have never felt more like a movie star or some other famous person in my life. All these people held back behind metal gates while you get to prance right by them and into your mode of transportation. But that was definitely a train-full of countryfolk. I'd hate to see the other trains.
At a little after 2am I finally got safely home (with only a minorly exhausted head from hearing and speaking Japanese for over 15 hours straight)....just to wake up a few hours later to go to church. But it was amazing.
And I think tomorrow when I wake up I'll have a shower so I don't have to smell like a bomb anymore.

I Wonder...

2006-08-21T23:48:00.000-06:00

I sometimes wonder what I'll turn out to be.
I wonder what my life will be like when I get older, and where I'll end up living and what I'll be doing. I have lots of dreams for myself, but God has dreams for me too.
I wonder how they'll intersect, and what kind of super-life that will be.
I wonder who will still be my friends in 10 years, and I wonder how many countries I would have visited.
I wonder what God is doing in me here in Japan, and if I'm even accomplishing anything for Him by being here.
I wonder if I'm making a difference at all, or if I'd be just as useful at home.
I wonder why God called me here, the boonies of Japan, when I was still just a teenager.
I wonder if I'll end up coming back and living here for a long time, and I wonder why that scares me. I wonder what's actually going on in the spiritual realms right now; what battles are being fought, and which ones have already been won, which ground has been gained and which is still under attack.
I wonder what earth really looks like under all these false pretenses.
I wonder what a real Christian would look like, who wasn't scared of being different and who loved God with their whole heart.
I wonder how religion would change if Christians started acting like Jesus instead of just pretending.
I wonder how many people could be saved if just twice as many Christians as are doing it now stepped out and started living for God and not for themselves.
I wonder how the world would change if everybody wasn't so greedy with what they have, or don't have but want.
I wonder what the world would look like if everyone stopped living for themselves and actually thought of other people.
I wonder what the world would be like without fear.
I wonder what good God possibly sees in my heart and how he's going to make it more like his.
I wonder how many people I've told about God without even realizing it.
I wonder if it's just the easy way out by saying that we don't need to say anything to tell others about Jesus, that they see Him in the way we live.
I wonder if there's more I could be doing here, or even in this world.
I wonder why my main job here seems to be to teach people how to say "I like blue" instead of "Jesus loves me".
I wonder if I'm doing all I can for God right now, or if I'm really only doing part of what He wants me to do.
It's been quite the day...

J[esus]ack-in-a-box

2006-08-17T00:01:00.000-06:00

I am writing this for the sake of those who do not believe in miracles, and for the sake of God who deserves to have things like this told in his name.
Last year I got the pastor of a church in Camrose to pray for my knee to be healed, for my ACL to be restored. The elders prayed for me, but it wasn't my ACL that got healed; a few years before I had apparently pinched a nerve in my back playing soccer and my right hip was an inch further back than it was supposed to be. That was the thing that God wanted to heal that day. So as we all prayed and thanked God we watched my right hip rotate back to where it was supposed to be. And it was healed.
But then a month or two ago I noticed that it had gone out of place again, and my hip was back where it was before it had been healed. But I never really thought anything of it.
I was in Sendai for the last 5 days. On one of those days (Saturday afternoon) I was talking to Hannah and I showed her how out of place my hip was by the position of my legs, and told her what had happened before and how frustrated I was because my ACL didn't get healed when I asked for it to be. And then I didn't think anything of it again...until I was falling asleep that night.
I was laying there on my back on the futon, just talking to Jesus before I fell asleep when I felt my right leg start moving on its own. At first I was confused because that's not a very normal thing, but then I flashed back to last year when I was at that church, surrounded by elders, being prayed over for healing, and how my leg moved the same way. I started thanking Jesus for healing me; then I would start doubting and wonder what was going on, and my leg would stop moving; I would start thanking God again, and it would start moving again. Then it felt like someone grabbed my ankle and was pulling on my whole leg. Laying on my back, my hands were on my belly; with my hands I could feel the position in my hips changing. And then when it was done, still not quite believing, I put my knees up and checked if they were level or not (that afternoon they were definitely not level) and I had been completely healed!
Hannah was laying beside me, not quite asleep, noticed me put up my knees, and asked what I was doing. I showed her the difference in my legs and then told her God had just healed me; she was absolutely amazed - so was I; I still am.
Hannah and I talked for a bit until she fell asleep, and then God decided to fix my right shoulder as well (I had no idea anything was wrong with it). All of a sudden it was moving around and jerking, rotating up and down and up and back, getting into the perfect place; I could see it with my own eyes. Then God did the same with my left shoulder. And then my entire spine. It was like it completely straightened out; there was one place in the middle of my spine where it just, released, for lack of better words, or opened. If you could feel yourself growing I'm pretty sure that that is what it would feel like.
So I experienced God's healing smorgasbord, and I wasn't even asking for it. It was absolutely incredible, and it still doesn't feel real when I think about it. I would doubt the whole thing completely if Hannah hadn't have been there to see it.
I don't know why God chose that moment to heal me, heal me without me asking, and heal things I didn't even know were a problem. But I do know without a doubt that it happened. I have a big God, one who loves me and cares so specifically for me, even as I'm lying on a futon on the floor of a church in Japan, so far away from all I know as familiar. And I believe that miracles like that aren't supposed to be an oddity; they only are because we've tried to put God into a box on a shelf in a closet we rarely open.
But God definitely opened his box and jumped out, and I'm in no hurry to put him back in. You should open your box as well, Jesus wants to come out and play.

Kanto festival pictures

2006-08-09T19:22:00.000-06:00

Here are some pictures of the Kanto festival in Akita City on the weekend. These tall many-lanterns-on-a-stick are supposed to look like rice stalks. The streets were just full of them.
And this one man was just so happy to have his picture taken with me. It makes me laugh inside whenever I see his face; he was quite the proud Kanto-er.

I See a Monkey

2006-08-09T02:16:00.000-06:00

It's the monkey!! How exciting. Too bad the one of the monkey on the fence is blurry...
And I'm glad we didn't get monkey mauled when we got out of the car.

Nebuta

2006-08-08T02:05:00.000-06:00

Here are some pictures of the Nebuta festival I went to in Aomori on Friday night. These huge floats are handmade out of paper, and then handpainted. Then teams of people pulled them around, going faster or slower, and turning them so everyone in the crowds could see. It was quite incredible. The whole festival had a lot of energy with so many people drumming and dancing.

Mission:Monkey...check!

2006-08-08T00:35:00.000-06:00

On Saturday I went to a festival in Akita with a couple of friends.; Kanto it's called. It's a festival where especially talented people balance long long bamboo poles with branches almost, with many many paper lanterns hanging off of them. These things are like 20 feet tall, and have a width of about 6 or 8 paper lanterns across. (They're supposed to look like rice plants right before the harvest, with lots and lots of rice on them to encourage the gods to give them a good harvest.) But these amazing people balance these things on their hands, their shoulders, their heads, their hips, and it's just incredible. Hundreds of them do it all at the same time, filling this one street, while thousands of people are watching. After the professionals finished, normal people could try to balance the kanto. And I did it!! I got one balanced on my hand! Just on a kids' one though, not nearly as tall or hard to do as the normal sized ones, but hey, I'm proud. I even have a picture to prove it. One of my friends I went with got it balanced not just on his hand, but on his shoulder! It was crazy.

Then I went to another festival tonight. Japan's crazy in the summer for festivals; I've been told it's in between the rice planting and harvesting, plus it's not cold, so they plan all their festivals for the summer. It was fireworks, but with live Japanese drumming behind it. There's something that makes fireworks so much more exciting when there's drumming too.

And I have an amazing thing to report: one of my missions is complete. I wasn't even hunting, and I found a monkey in the wild!! Yesterday we were driving to Odate for supper, and a monkey popped out of the bushes. We slowed down the car and Kaila rolled down her window. The monkey may or may not have almost jumped in the car... it was a big and ugly monkey. It stared at me with its wrinkly eyes. We kept driving because there were cars behind us, but I asked if we could turn around so I could take a picture. So we went on an impromptu monkey hunt. We got to take some pictures, and then it disappeared into the bushes again. I don't know what possessed us to do this, but me and Kaila got out of the car to go look for it. We kept the car door open in case of an emergency, and clung to each other out of fear of getting monkey mauled. (I was the kind friend and held her in front of me as we walked.) What an amazing day that was. God gave me a monkey, even though it was big and ugly and had a red bum and wrinkly eyes.

Oga Peninsula

2006-08-06T08:38:00.000-06:00

Here are some pictures of the day we all went to Oga Peninsula. There's one of me at the top of the lighthouse, but that was in a little different place than the others, like half an hour away.

This lookout was absolutely beautiful. I've decided that a photograph just doesn't capture an atmosphere or an environment. But here is my attempt to show you God's beauty. It was one of those places where it was almost irreverent to speak.

2006-08-06T08:28:00.000-06:00

I went to an aquarium a couple of weeks ago with one of my old students. I saw penguins and a Canadian polar bear. For Japanese people, I think going to an aquarium is not unlike going to a grocery store. At almost every single tank the lady I was with said that what was inside looked delicious and that she wanted to eat it.
And there was a tank full of Finding Nemo characters, like Dory and Gill (Nemo was in a seperate tank). But it made me happy.

Water Queen

2006-08-03T22:27:00.000-06:00

These last couple of days have been so busy. But good busy. I like good busy.
Monday I went to the beach and swam in salt water for the first time in the Sea of Japan. How exciting. It was so calm it looked like a lake, but the water tasted disgusting. I got severely burnt. I think me and Kaila will be good candidates for skin cancer in 20 years or so.
Then we drove around the Oga Peninsula, which was absolutely beautiful. We got to climb up a lighthouse that was right on the tip of the peninsula. It's kind of a tourist attraction, so you had to pay 150 yen to go up. I pretended to be a tourist and didn't speak any Japanese to the money lady...or the girl at the top we got to take our picture. I'm a horrible person...but it's a pretty fun game. I kinda made us look like idiots though because when we went back down the lighthouse, I started speaking Japanese to the money lady who was closing up for the day. I forgot I was playing the tourist game.
Then we drove up a mountain to the most beautiful lookout I have ever seen. It overlooked the whole peninsula, and there was ocean on three sides. It was one of those places where a photograph just doesn't do God any justice.
Then Tuesday...oh Tuesday. I went to Sendai for a youth retreat. This is how my day started: me waking up to the phone call at 6:00am from the people who were coming to pick me up and take me to the bus station in five minutes; my alarm hadn't woken me up. And I conveniently hadn't packed the night before so I just had to throw a couple things in a bag and go. So I got on the bus and sat there falling asleep peacefully (as peacefully as I could with a horrendously sunburnt back), until I realized I didn't know what to do or where to go when I got to the bus station in Sendai; I had failed to receive a few important details like that. Four hours later I got to this city whose sidewalks are wider than the two lane streets in the town I'm used to (not unlike going from Rosetown to Calgary) and was completely lost. I phoned the Nordaas for help, but it didn't help much, besides learning that apparently I needed to take a train to the right suburb that the seminary is in. Once I got on the seminiary side of the train, I walked around lost, over and over, past the same buildings and down the same streets, trying to find this place hidden in these impossible Japanese roads. Two hours later, with the help of the 6th person I asked, I found the seminary. I was a little grumpy by the time I got there.
But the rest of the retreat was super fun. I played soccer a little, with cones and bare feet (my knee only hurts a little...). We got to play with fireworks (which were, in my opinion, just like glorified birthday cake sparklers, but fun). I was the female MVP of WaterWorld (like an afternoon of water games). I'm not sure I did so much to be amazing, but I was crowned Water Queen or 2006. How prestigious. I got flipflops and a tierra. I also had a fan club (it was only a couple 15 year old girls but still, it's a fan club none the least). One of the girls started crying today when I told her I was going home because I'm pretty sure I'll never see them again. The people there were so amazing; they had so much patience with my pitiful Japanese, and helped me understand things. I am very thankful for them, and I'm glad I got to go and meet all these new people; hanging out with people my age is very refreshing.
So what have I learned these past 4 days? God is definitely teaching me patience right now. These fruits, they're tough to get if you don't go to the right store. But good things Jesus is the manager of that store, and he gives the fruit free of charge, just a little growing pain here and there. But I guess it's worth it in the long run, as long as you get to be a little more like Jesus. And who would expect any less of the most recently crowned Queen of Water?

Kids' Camp

2006-07-28T23:39:00.000-06:00

So the kids' camp is over and now I'm at home alone, watching Totoro (a popular kids' cartoon... Totoro looks like a cross between an owl and a bunny and makes bear noises, and the cat turns into a bus...) The kids' camp was from Tuesday afternoon until Thursday afternoon. We played games, learned about animals and what they can do, learned a bible verse in English and Japanese, as well as Awesome God, had a campfire, did crafts, had a waterfight, and just generally had a good time. Oh and I can't forget...we also did Silly Songs with AJ. It was hilarious to watch a couple certain people do the actions....
At first it was really weird to start playing the role of camp counsellor and friend because I am these kids' teacher, but I eventually learned how to play with these kids and still keep their respect as a teacher, I think. They're all good kids. I like them. It was also a trick getting 6 little boys excited about doing a cheer about our small group mascot, the snake.
I stayed in a tent with 5 little girls ages 6-9 and it was a lot of fun. I had to solve a lot of problems like missing toothbrushes, pajamas and sleeping bag bags (which almost always ended up being in the kid's bag...). The littlest one, the first morning, woke up and blew her nose for like 10 minutes straight, using almost 2 packages of kleenex; her older sister said that she just wanted to go to the hospital.
It's kinda funny because it was the kids' English camp, but it was like a Japanese camp for me. It was the last thing I heard at night, and I got blasted with it first thing in the morning (5:30am). It became so that even when the 7 Canadians started talking to me, I would respond to them in Japanese. They would just look at me like I started growing a third head until I realized they weren't understanding a single thing I was saying. Not that I have a second head...But my Japanese surprised me that way.
After the camp was over yesterday, I went rowboating on the lake with Kaila and Alex from Calgary...quite the adventure. When our hour was up, we rowed back to shore where the little old man pulled us back in. We wished we had stayed out just a little bit longer because he had brought a megaphone down to the shore with him (in the front basket of his bicycle) in case we didn't come back in time. Maybe the funniest thing about that whole hour was how that little man rode his bicycle the 30ft from the boat shack to the water, and how he dismounted and walked when he came to a little hill. After discovering melon spoons at a sushi bar, a few of us went and did kareoke. (We are much better at Boni Jovi than Celine Dion...)
It's been really good having these 7 Canadians here; I realize now I had started getting dull. It's good to be getting back to the side of myself that's not so serious and mature all the time. I like laughing and sharing life with them. I'm getting fond of these people and will be sad to see them go.

Conclusions from a Monkey Hunt

2006-07-24T00:20:00.000-06:00

I am amazed at how much a person can change in five months...namely me. Seven people from Calgary came in last night and will be here in Japan with us (the Nordaas' and I) for almost three weeks. Last night we sat around and had supper together, immersed in English conversation. It was overwhelming. I kept wanting to reply in Japanese.
And you'd think that now, by hearing my own language regularily again, I'd finally be able to understand what's going on. Nope. I have become oblivious to sarcasm and don't understand humor. Other people's humor. Canadian humor. It's not that I haven't been laughing; I laugh a lot...it's just always at myself and the stupid foreigner things I do, and my ridiculous Japanese. But all these native English speakers are really quite overwhelming. It's funny because I went home last night after being with these people for about 6 hours straight, and I was craving Japanese, so I turned on the TV and just sat there, reimmersing myself in the familiar of not understanding. It's really quite weird.
And that's only after five months...think of what it'll be like after a year!!
A quick change of topic...
For those of you that were wondering, no, I never got to see a monkey in the wild. How disappointing. I saw monkey poo, but no monkey. But I did make a little asian friend. I was at this nature center on the way out into the country to go monkey hunting, and this little girl walked up to me and just stood there, staring at me. Apparently I'm rare in these parts. The two Japanese people I was with told her that it was okay to talk to me, that I understand Japanese. I told her they were lying and that I don't understand much at all. But that didn't matter to her. She took me all through this nature center, showing me these exhibits of things I don't know about even in English, chattering the whole time. I think I only got about 30% of what she was saying. So maybe I was the monkey that day.
These two Japanese people I was with are becoming pretty good friends; they're about 6 years younger than my parents. They are convinced that everywhere I go I turn famous, just because of who I am and what I do (I'm big and white, and I reguarly do things unintentionally that get attention...like accidently turning a drinking fountain into Old Faithful, shooting water 2 meters up into the sky...) They have motorcycles. I told them I would like to come to their house and ride one one day. They said sure, but were both kind of hesitant about it. They're like, 'but you turn famous wherever you go' (their way of saying I'm accident prone and it probably wouldn't be a good idea for me to drive a motorcyle). I saw their point and we agreed that it would be best if I just rode on the back.
So from all this I conclude one thing: I'm not changing a whole lot, at least the parts that matter. If anything, who I am is getting stripped down so all that's left is genuine. I can't try to fit in with the crowd, because I'm the only one of my crowd. I can't hide behind language or sarcasm because no one will understand. And I can't hide what my personality is, even in another language. It's funny how you often have to have every comfort zone taken away to find out who you really are. And it's funny how you often have to go so far away from home to find out what really matters.

The Adventure Chronicles

2006-07-17T00:45:00.000-06:00

This past week has been full of adventures of the Japanese kind. Last Sunday I went deeper into the wilderness than I've ever been in my life. There's a mountain range about an hour away from my town, the Shirakami Mountains, that are a World Heritage site, so the Nordaas', a couple from church and I decided to go. Japanese roads are quite narrow and windy to begin with (they have convex mirrors all over the place so you can see if there's anyone coming), but this was quite unlike anything I'd ever seen. We were always on the side of a mountain, with lush lush green all around (hiding what a steep dropoff it was). The road was barely big enough for one car (two-way roads like that should be illegal...and then when you add the potholes... I thought we were gonna die). We'd turn a corner, and I thought there was no way possible you could go further, but then 15 minutes later we were still driving. It was slow going on the paved roads at 40km/h, but then it turned to gravel road and we had to go 20km/h. It was not unlike bushwacking in a car.
We finally got to the top and I was very surprised; there were actualy other cars there - we weren't the last people at this end of the earth. After hiking through some meadows (more like sauntering and taking pictures of the lilies and white mushrooms that looked like flowers) we emerged back into the parking lot and there was a bus! I have no idea how that bus made it without tipping off the side of the mountain; we were all quite mystified. On the way down, the narrow paved road seemed so much wider, almost like a luxury. In the words of Bonita, "The Japanese all love nature, but not many venture THIS deep." Well put, I think.
Yesterday I went to a festival at a shrine. Takanosu has the biggest drum in the world, and every year they use it at a festival to call on the harvest gods to send rain or something like that. I actually don't know how to describe this festival; this too was like nothing I've ever seen. There were different sets of dances and drumming routines, for lack of better words. It lasted an hour and a half. But there's nothing like a good festival that brings the foreigners out of the cracks of Japan. I haven't seen that many white faces I don't know for five months; actually just that many white faces. It was almost like culture shock in my own habitat. There were 6 new people I had never seen before, and I have no idea where they came from, but they're definitely not from around here.
Tonight I had more of a domestic adventure. Now that I think about it, it was probably more me just trying to live up to my past reputation. I went out for supper with three people from church and after two of us wanted ice cream. I was kind of full, but I reassured them of my seperate stomaches, and we went to Baskin Robins. This is the last week of the 'buy a double get a triple' deal, so of course I had to "Challenge the Triple" as the poster put it. So I was with three people (granted with asian size bellies) and they shared a small triple. They told me I wouldn't look too piggish if I got a triple too, and so I went to order the small size like they got. But my cup ended up being about twice the size of theirs because I ordered 'regular' (the big size) instead of 'small' (the regular size). Needless to say, I don't think I'll be eating tomorrow.
Oh and that brings me to my next adventure. Tomorrow I'm going monkey hunting. For real. (But with cameras, not guns...I'm not cruel like that).
I guess I'm living up the the motto I adoped way back when I got to Japan, as soon as I learned the word for 'adventure'. It's "Every day is an adventure". (Basically I just said it whenever I did something stupid.) Back then it stemmed more out of my ignorance than anything, but I think it still applies, no?

From the "Teacher" File

2006-07-10T23:20:00.000-06:00

I think it's kinda funny how God puts us in places way out of our comfort zones and gets us to learn new things. I'm kinda in a weird place right now because I've had no education on how to teach, and yet I'm teaching people, and they're expecting to learn. Probably about half of my students are older than me, and until two weeks ago, I was still technically a kid in their eyes. Must be humbling for them I think.
But I would like to share with you all some things you can laugh with me with about my new job as a teacher.

-> About a month ago I was teaching a joint adult class, because Arnie was somewhere for some pastor's meeting, so for that class I used different textbooks that focus on listening. It came up in the text, something about 'finding a girlfriend'. They kinda looked confused so I asked them what they thought it meant. This one guy who is 50 but looks like he's about 30 jumped in and was like, "HUNTING!" And I just about lost it. And the funny thing is he was being serious.

-> In my beginner kid's class right now I'm teaching them, well pretty much everything, which includes how to write the alphabet and what the letters are called. They were having problems with remembering "w", so I explained that it was like a double "u" and drew it like that on the board. The kids started laughing and I didn't know why. Then one kid came up and took a marker and drew how the Japanese people draw poop. It's not my fault I draw my "w's" the way the toilet companies print people bums on the toilet buttons. I will never draw a "w" like that for a class of 7-year-olds again.

-> Mountain vegetables are very popular here. Side story: One day I was hiking on a mountain with some people and there was a whole lot of rustling in the bushes beside where we were walking. Since we were in bear country we were all quite scared...until we figured out it was just a grandma picking mountain vegetables on a nice summer day. Next time she should go to a more convenient spot where she will not be mistaken for a wild carnevorious bear.
Back to my english story. People like to translate things straight across from Japanese to English. There is a popular mountain vegetable here called takenoko, which is a baby bamboo shoot (I actually really like them). One day in English class I was talking with the HUNTING! man, and he's like, "Have you ever eaten bamboo children?" haha. I couldn't help but laugh. Poor guy. Makes sense in Japanese, but worth a laugh or two in English.

-> One day I was doing an activity with the months in a kid's class; they were in two groups with month cards, and they had to race to put them in order. We did this more than once though, because it doesn't take very long, so they had to mix them up in between. The Japanese word for 'mix' is 'mazemas'. I don't know why I said this, other than to make it fun for both me and the kids, but I started saying "mazeh-mazeh-mazemas", kinda rhythmically. (It's quite fun to say; try it yourself.) But then I heard the kids talking amongst themselves. They were like, "Why is she saying that? It's baby talk." So then I was a teacher, saying the equivalent of "goo-goo-gaa-gaa" in the middle of class. Sigh. Just another time my language skills are challenged by an eight-year old. But laughable now, in hindsight.

All in all teaching is an adventure, quite a stretching adventure. But times like these perk it up a little and add joy to my day..and my days after, when I think about these stories and laugh to myself.
If you didn't laugh, you probably had to be there...

the dark side

2006-07-08T15:26:00.000-06:00

I've gone over to the dark side. It was a gradual slide, but now there's no going back. I now use an umbrella.
I have loathed umbrellas my entire life; I've always thought they looked goofy. Once the 2 meteres of snow melted here in Japan, it started to rain, and the umbrellas came out, I vowed never ever to use one. In fact if someone had told me two weeks ago that I would be using an umbrella in 14 days, I would have told them they were lying.
But there comes a time when necessity overtakes pride. And that day came for me.
It's so stinkin humid here; you sweat just by sitting and it doesn't evaporate. And then when it's raining and you're walking to the train station for a full day of teaching, there's no way anybody in their right mind would want to wear a rain coat and start their day all hot and gross.
It began by just carrying my umbrella when I was going places, just in case it started to downpour. Then I discovered I liked having that safety cushion against getting soaking wet, and plus it's fun to walk with a cane-like object in your hand. I think I violate every Japanese umbrella-carrying rule.
Then came the day when it started pouring when I was conveniently carrying my umbrella; I was very thankful. And I don't think I'll ever go back.
But there are definitely downsides to umbrellas; the number one reason being the restriction of necessary vision. Good thing Takanosu's streets are not teeming with traffic; I'm sure I would have been run over by now. Basically you can only see a 1 and a half meter radius around you, and if you walk at a pace of 3/4 of a meter per second, it severely limits your reaction time when foreign objects come into your range of vision. And I have not yet learned to compensate for the extra width I take up. I'm not gonna lie, I have hit a few Japanese people with my umbrella.
But I guess when you're in a country where it's cool for even guys to have umbrellas, I can suck it up and use one as well. And when it's so ingrained into a culture to have an umbrella that there are umbrella racks in every store and bathroom stall, and a special place to put them on shopping carts (not unlike a child seat) I suppose I can learn to adapt. And then when I come back home to Canada I can judge how Japanesied I have become by if I still carry an umbrella or go back to wearing a rain jacket.

A Train Full of Thoughts

2006-07-04T23:38:00.000-06:00

I came home from Akita on the train last night. Trains make me sad. First of all, I realize that I'm probably the only person who knows Jesus on that whole train. All these people do the same thing every day, and don't even realize they are focusing on the wrong things. It's also weird to think how much of an individual everyone is. I like to look at the people, just the variety, and see their personalities through their clothing, facial expressions, and what they do on the train. Everyone is just absolutely different.
And everyone has cell phones. And on every cell phone people have different screen savers, different rings, and different little dangly things. Yesterday I was thinking about what's inside the cell phone, the pictures. No one else gets to see them, just the person who uses them. It seems like a waste of personality to me, that not everyone gets to see who everybody else is. You can't be known by everybody, and you can't know everybody. That makes me kind of sad. There's a whole lot of neat people in this world you won't get to know, a whole lot of perspectives you won't get to see, and a whole lot of personalities that won't be an influence on you.
Why are people so different if they don't get to be shared with everybody? Maybe there should be a limited number of personality groups, so that you can get to know each type of person. But that would get boring.
Maybe there should only be 6 people in the world, and they could all get to know each other quite well. But that's an empty earth if I've ever seen one...also boring as well.
There are so many personalities because it's another way God communicates with us. His character, who he is, is so diverse and all encompassing that we can't possibly understand it. And God can't fit all he is into one person. He created us in his image, and each different person reflects him differently. It seems like part of his glory would be lost if he reduced humanity to a set number of ways a person could think and act. It seems like his creativity would be downplayed if there were only 6 people in this world.
Just because I can't understand how people can be so diverse doesn't mean it should be that way. If God made everything so that we could understand, we may as well be God too.
It may seem like a waste not to get to see everybody's cell phone picture, or not get to talk to absolutely everyone on the train, but we can impact people one at a time. One by one people need to be plucked out of this ever-moving, ever-changing sea of humanity so they can be shown the only real constant in this world - Jesus. And one at a time they need to fall in love with the One who made each of them so uniquely different. And God, one person at a time, is completeing his mosaic of humanity that will forever proclaim his glory.
And at the end, we WILL get to know all these people, be provoked to thought by the way they think, laugh at the stories they tell, be intrigued with their views on life, and spend countless hours finding out what fragments of God they represent. All this from not just spending time with the people, but unlimited hours with the One who created all of them.
So this array of humanity is not a waste, as we view it with our earthly eyes. If we are able to not just see the now, but the later as well, we can see this diversity as something to look forward to, and something we will be blessed by as we spend eternity in heaven.

A Day in The Life Of...

2006-07-01T00:58:00.000-06:00

So today I think I'll write about something mundane, like my day. Today was not an abnormal day, but just the fact that it's a normal day for me in Japan makes it something abnormal for you. So if I process mentally like that, I think maybe my day will be something worth reading about.
Today I woke up at 7:30. Maybe a little too elementary, no? Every Friday I go to a city that's 20 minutes away, Odate, to teach, so I have to catch the train; it takes me about 20 minutes to walk to the train station from my apartment. One day I missed the train by literally 10 seconds (you could set your internal clocks by Japanese trains - unless they hit a tree - so it was my fault for missing, not the train's), and I ended up having to take the expensive train and being late for a class of worrying mothers. And there just happened to have been a couple murders in the area that week, so that made them worry all that more. That whole experience was just plain inconvenient, so now I go to the train station super early.
My first class was from 10:30 until 12:00, a pretty advanced ladies class; basically I just chat with them for half, and teach for half. We're doing comparisons right now, and a few weeks ago they told me that George Bush isn't as faithful or polite as samarai, and that chickens aren't as ferocious as dragons. Who knew?
Every week after class we have a tea time, so basically it lasts until 1:00.
One of my students brought me homemade onigiri (rice balls) so I had some for lunch, then one of my friends picked me up at 2:00 and we went to the new supercenter, because it has Baskin Robins. Right now it's buy a double scoop and get a free triple, so we did that. She's the lady I was with when I pushed the green button, and we were in the same place; today she told me to go push it again. I didn't. So we chatted and ate huge cups of ice cream, and after I played mini air hockey against her 2 year old daughter. I let her win. After we went to the hundred yen shop because I needed to buy some envelopes.
Then I went back to the church, and watched Bonita's class, which I will be teaching starting next week, along with about 4 other extra classes of hers.
At 5:30 I had my class of grade 4-5's. They're fun. Right now it's just four girls because four of the (noisy) kids are busy with manditory school clubs - part of the crazy Japanese school system. We're doing a clothing unit. Next week I'm getting a new student in that class.
Then I ate supper, which the pastor's wife at Odate church makes for me and the Nordaases every Friday. Always a feast.
Then I had a class at 7:30, a junior high class that is two girls. They're a lot of fun too.
I got another birthday present today from one of Bonita's students, so it really is the 12 Days of Erika.
And we got to go home early today (9:15) because Arnie's students didn't come. Normally we leave about an hour later than that. So we drove home.
I did some laundry, kinda cleaned up a bit, made some plans for this weekend because I'm going to Akita, and now I'm waiting for the Germany/Argentina game to start.
And that is just another average day in the life of Erika.
And now I must go rescue my laundry from getting wrinkled...

The 12 Days of Erika

2006-06-26T23:38:00.000-06:00

So now I'm officially an adult for the second time of my life. I've been one for 24 hours now and it feels...just like being a kid. I still laugh at the same things, and do stupid things, and am exactly the same person...just now it's in another language. Kinda.
I had four cakes. My birthday has been like the 12 Days of Christmas. Last Sunday I had my church birthday party, and had sushi cake. It was like a meal in a cake, with two layers of rice, and tuna in the middle like a filling. Then on Saturday morning Bonita made an angel food cake for me, and when I came back to the church wearing the kimono, me and all the people that had come to see me consumed it together (with tea of course). Then that night me and 5 of my friends went to this place to eat honey bread - basically like a loaf of honeyed toast with ice cream on top. They brought these ridiculously long candles and shoved them in everywhere. It resembled something like a hedgehog. A hedgehog with tall burning spikes. Quite funny. And yummy. Then today I went to Odate to have another birthday meal with 5 other friends there (one of them is the lady that was with me when I pushed the green button). We had this double layer white cake with whipped cream and huge strawberries and peaches all over it.
I have no idea why I just described all these cakes to you.
But basically I had an amazing birthday. I've had some pretty good birthdays in Canada (going to the lake with friends - swimming back to the cabin to eat Hamburger Helper and McCain's Deep and Delicious cake from the middle of the lake dragging a half sunk canoe behind me, going camping and forgetting things essential to successful camping like an ax and cooking pot) and I really didn't think it could get better. But I guess when God blesses he blesses. I have friends over here, and I can actually communicate with them. Enough to have fun and laugh with them. Be myself.
And I must tell you another thing. We are in the middle of rainy season where it's supposed to rain like all day every day. Other parts in Japan have gotten up to 20 inches of rain in one day. Here we've had blue sky every day, and sunshine. Just gorgeous weather. Very abnormal. But just another way God is bringing me joy.
Back to the 12 Days of Christmas. Or should I say the 12 Days of Erika. I'm getting to be pretty good friends with one of the couples from church; on kimono wearing day I wore the wife's kimono, and the husband took off an entire day of work just to come take pictures and hang out and eat cake. Maybe not eat cake, but just special for my birthday. He drove me home after, and he told me this on the way. I was absolutely blown away. Work in Japan is super super important, and to have someone take a whole day off just for you is crazy. I told him we should make it a new holiday, like Christmas Eve...just Erika Eve. He liked that. I told him to go home and write it on his calender.
In fact I think everyone should add it to their calender next year. June 24. We could do things like eat ice cream and go go-carting. Hang out with Jesus. Maybe have a hedgehog cake. And burn an exhorbant amount of calories from laughing. I should call the head of the Calender Association and put in for a new holiday.

The Big Green Button

2006-06-17T14:51:00.001-06:00

I'm a curious person. I'll be the first to admit that. I don't always give into my curiosity, but when I do...oh dear. But that's what makes memories hey?
I learned a valuable lesson yesterday: don't ever push buttons if you don't know their function. Especially in the bathroom.
Japanese bathrooms are really something else. The first time I went to the bathroom on Japanese soil I had to stifle the chortles so people wouldn't wonder what was happening in my stall. They have buttons to push to make water noises so other people don't have to hear you. They have buttons you push to get hand sanitiser. They have buttons to push so the toilet sprays you with water when you're done, and buttons to air dry after that. (These toilets are particularily fun...they have quite the range if you're not sitting on the seat.) And apparently they have buttons you push if you're having a small crisis in the bathroom.
So yesterday I was in a mall food court bathroom and was looking around the stall. After pressing the hand santizer button repeatedly cuz I couldn't see what it was doing (only a small puddle developed on the floor after it slimed down the wall- in all honesty I was expecting the water noise), my eyes wandered to the big green button to the right. I'm no Japanese expert. All I could read was 'button' and 'please'. So I pleased the button and pushed it. I certainly got my noise. This super loud alarm went off, and no matter how many more times I pushed that green button, it would not go off. I could hear it echo all in the food court too; this was no small sound. After sitting there stunned for a little bit, I realized I had better move, do something. I got out and washed my hands where the lady I was with met me with this priceless expression. She's like, 'are you alright? What did you do?" And the alarm is still echoing throughout the foodcourt, not unlike a fire alarm.
So I'm laughing and trying to tell her what happened, when a mall lady came in. I was like, 'sorry, sorry, I made a mistake!' And then a male security guard showed up. And I'm still laughing and telling them, 'sorry, I can't read Kanji, and I just wanted to push the button!', the lady I'm with is laughing, the mall staff are not looking to impressed, and the alarm is still providing nice background (minor emergency) music.
I can only imagine what people were thinking of me yesterday when this huge alarm goes off from within the depths of the bathroom, mall staff come running to rescue the person that might be dying, and this white person stumbles out, just laughing. I think I'm the only person in that whole place who could've gotten away with it.
How was I to know the entire mall was wired to my bathroom stall?
And we sat down to have Baskin Robbins (to feed my second stomache, as my Japanese friends dubbed it yesterday) and killed ourselves laughing some more.
Moral of the story: In life you should push all the green buttons; they add a whole other dynamic to the mundane. (And secretly I think Jesus puts them there for his own entertainment.)

The Grocery Store Saga

2006-06-12T21:20:00.000-06:00

Japanese grocery stores are tricky...mostly cuz they're Japanese. I like how the one I go to has samples. Kind of like Costco. But instead of tasting samples of the latest pizza or mocachino mix, I get to try things like deep fried tofu and squid baked so that it looks like an onion ring.

I think I'm one of the most indecisive people I know (I think it runs in the family) and grocery stores are where I shine my indecisiveness the best.
I hate spending money, so I price check everything. That takes exorbant amounts of time because I don't read Japanese as fast as your typical asian. So I stand there in the aisle staring at these things, trying to decide which one to purchase. Then I remember something I saw on the other side of the store, change my mind, and wander back over there. I can only wonder what the other people in the store are thinking as they see me wander back and forth from one side to the other with my empty green basket.

Especially today when I was shopping for my supper. They were baking fresh cakes in the cake shop conveniently located in the middle of the store, and that threw me off. I'd walk one way, set on getting something on the one side, then I'd get a whiff of the fresh cakes and I'd get hungry for something else and forget where I was going. So I'd wander back where I came from, still proudly carrying my empty green basket.

And then after all my indecisiveness and all my pacing, I end up leaving the store with maybe one or two things. And always just weird combinations. Like butter and soup mixes; carrots, mini Cappacino Aero bars, and seaweed; tofu and cherry blossom flavored KitKats (just to try); supper from the asian deli and enough ice cream to last a week...just to name a few.

Last week I discovered the bakery. That was a mistake. I went to the grocery store at the time when they just happened to be stocking the bakery and it smelled amazing. I wandered over with my empty green basket and to my delight discovered they had samples of just about everything. So I stood there and sampled maple bread, melon bread, chocolate bread, fruit danish, melon bread with cream, a piece of pizza (I didn't steal it, it was a sample). After about my fourth sample I started feeling guilty. I don't exactly blend in. People could look over and see that I was eating my free lunch in the bakery. They wouldn't just look over and say, "oh, there's just another hungry asian."

All in all, just another adventure of living in Japan. I'm glad I'm in a place where I can look so confused and out of place 90% of the time and not feel stupid - I can just blame it on being a gaijin (basically, white). So I hold my head up high and walk with confidence in my step...I just may be walking by again in 10 or 15 minutes because I'm lost.

Random pictures

2006-06-10T02:34:00.000-06:00

Here's some more good Japanese advice: You must guard against overweight.

Curious George with the chopsticks has nothing to do with that...I just liked the picture.

Day of the Cookies

2006-06-05T21:17:00.000-06:00

First I would like to say thank you to my amazing sister, Chantelle: thanks buddy!! She sent cookies in a jar to Japan with the CLBI team. I've been watching that jar for a month, with the flour and sugar and chocolate chips. It sat on top of my TV just tantalizing me. It's crazy how humid it is here; I could see the humidity sinking the flour and sugar deeper and deeper into the jar week by week. Today when I made them, I had to pry the contents out with a chopstick.
Mixing the cookies was another challenge; my apartment does not come equipped with a big spoon. So I tried mixing them with a rice scooper, then a teaspoon, a wooden spoon, and then finally my hand. Then to bake them. Let me explain my oven to you; it's 3-in-1, with a range, grill and oven all in one (it's about the size of a microwave). Once I figured out which buttons to press in their right order, and converted the temperature (properly the second time after I wondered why my cookies weren't baking), I was set. I turned on some music real loud (I may or may not have sung and danced by myself), ate dough, and made cookies. (Yes Chantelle I got more than one sheet of cookies haha.) Then I put the cookies into ziplock bags provided by the bank (when I signed up for an account). Good old Japanese gift-giving custom...who knew the bank would one day help me bake cookies.
All in all a good day, after talking to my parents for an hour, another friend for three, getting a package from Germany, listening to cd's burnt by friends, making cookies and hanging out with Jesus.
And from it all I've come to a conclusion:
I think it's crazy how people that are living 15 hours and an ocean apart can still affect each other. I spent my day physically alone, but it was like I was almost hanging out at home (except for the hour I spent in a rice field this afternoon). It's crazy how relationships can almost get stronger when you're not together, how hearts get closer the farther you are apart. It's crazy how when you give your fears to God (like losing all your friends when you're in Japan for a year), he'll reassure you and show you you have nothing to be afraid of. And it's crazy how milk tastes better when you drink it out of the carton.

My Favorite Things #1

2006-06-03T14:56:00.000-06:00

I thought I'd share with you some of my favorite things from here in Japan:

New drivers get a big 'spring leaf' sticker to put on their car that's yellow and green; old drivers (over 70) get a orange and yellow 'fall leaf' one. (There sure are a lot of fall leaf stickers around here...)

All the students here have these vinyl sports bags that are just ridiculous - big and shiny and...vinyl.

The cars here are just tiny tiny tiny. And cubic. There's actually a vehicle called the 'Cube', though I'm not sure what it is. Everything here pretty much clumps into the category of 'car'. Or 'small moving thing on wheels'. There's also these little white trucks that are especially popular around here, and they remind me of Tinker Toys. I wonder how they'd do on the HotWheels market.

The public phones are bright neon green. I think Matrix 4 should be made in Japan.

There's an AstroBoy on my bankbook. (Everything's cartoonish here.)

I'm convinced any one of these old Japanese people could run a marathon. In North America, old people pretty much shut 'er down when they're 65 and retire. Japanese just keep going. When I got here in February there was still over a meter of snow left, and every day they would be out shoveling so it would melt faster. Now they're all planting their rice fields. And I've never seen so many old people ride bicycles before. Scratch the marathon. These folks could do a biathalon.

Umbrellas are 'cool' here.

I saw the longest rubber boots I've ever seen in my life last week. At a good one meter long, they'd be huge on any average person; on a Japanese they would probably swallow their legs. They should just attach a rubber bodysuit and a snorkel to them and they could go scuba diving.

Till next time...

Sheep Island

2006-06-02T23:25:00.000-06:00

Here's a quote from a book I've been reading for school. Actually it's more like a section of the book, not a quote...
I'll let it speak for itself.

"In a dream I found myself on an island -Sheep Island. Across the island sheep were scattered and lost. Soon I learned that a forest fire was sweeping across from the opposite side. It seemed that all were doomed to destruction unless there were some way of escape. Although there were many unofficial maps, I had a copy of the official map and there discovered that indeed there is a bridge to the mainland, a narrow bridge, built, as was said, at incredible cost.
My job, I was told, would be to get the sheep across that bridge. I discovered many shepherds herding the sheep who were found and seeking to corral those who were within easy access to the bridge. But most of the sheep were far off and the shepherds seeking them few. The sheep near the fire knew they were in trouble and were frightened; those at a distance were peacefully grazing, enjoying life.
I noticed two shepherds near the bridge whispering to one another and laughing. I moved near them to hear the cause of joy in such a dismal setting. "Perhaps the chasm is narrow somewhere, and at least the strong sheep have opportunity to save themselves," said one. "Maybe the current is gentle and the stream shallow. Then the courageous, at least, can make it across." The other responded, "That may well be. In fact, wouldn't it be great if this proves to be no island at all? Perhaps it is just a peninsula and great multiudes of sheep are already safe. Surely the owner would have provided some alternative route." And so they relaxed and went about other business.
In my mind I began to ponder their theories: Why would the owner have gone to such great expense to build a bridge, especially since it is a narrow bridge, and many of the sheep refuse to cross it even when they find it? In fact, if there is a better way by which many will be saved more easily, building the bridge is a terrible blunder. And if this isn't an island, after all, what is to keep the fire from sweeping right across into the mainland and destroying everything? As I pondered these things I heard a quiet voice behind be saying, "There is a better reason than the logic of it, my friend. Logic alone could lead you either way, Look at your map."
There on the map, by the bridge, I saw a quotation from the first undershepherd, Peter: "For neither is there salvation in any other, for there is no other way from the island to the mainland whereby a sheep may be saved." And then I discerned, carved on the old rugged bridge itself, "I am the bridge. No sheep escapes to safety but by me."
In a world in which nine of every ten people is lost, three or four have never heard the way out, and one of every two cannot hear, the church sleeps on. "How come?" Could it be we think there must be some other way? Or perhaps we don't really care that much."
-Robertson Mcquilkin