As you may have figured out, we didn't have internet access while we traveled to Misato... and then we had the challenges of jet-lag upon our return to America and I am just now sitting down to write again. I didn't feel "done" with this blog yet. It was greatly missing the "rest of the story." So, while you'll have to miss much of the day-to-day stuff, I still felt I needed to capture (if for no one but myself) what I learned in the last portion of our trip.
Our return to Misato was awesome. There were so many different emotions that flooded my heart, but the overwhelming emotion was
completeness. I may have mentioned in an earlier blog that the easiest way for me to explain to Japanese people why we came to volunteer was because, while we live in America, our hearts live in Japan. When we returned to our "other home," we were finally complete in a way we hadn't been in two and a half years. (Granted, when we live in Japan, a part of me doesn't feel complete because I ache for America in different ways... It's a very tricky conundrum and lends to lots of internal struggles, regardless of where I live!) However, knowing that we had four days to cram in as much of our old lives as possible (with two small kids in tow) was a bit overwhelming. We obviously didn't get to everything, but we did as much as we could!
Highlights of that week included meeting old friends again and lifting several "kompai" (cheers) to our (albeit temporary) return to Misato, shopping at some of our old local haunts and in downtown Sendai, and getting to indulge Kai - the biggest thrill for him was riding the Shinkansen (the bullet train). He and Dan rode it from Sendai to Furukawa (only about a 15 minute ride) and then took the local train back to Misato (another 20 minute ride). But standing on the platform checking out a few different models of the high-speed trains that he has sported on his backpack for the last three years was really cool for him. Dan got video of him bouncing in excitement. Perhaps hovering would be a more apt description! :o)
To be totally honest though, parts of our return to Misato were difficult. There were definitely visible changes in the community - the community center (for me, the place I most feared being when an earthquake struck) now resembles a giant jigsaw puzzle, with HUGE cracks cris-crossing the walls, inside and out; the giant torii gate that stood at a major intersection where the region's famous shrine is had toppled and the one-meter diameter base stones stood empty, with the broken pieces at its feet; the local home improvement store was closed due to damages from the earthquake. Reminders like these were everywhere we turned, constantly whispering of the earth's shudders and had not left our heart's home unscathed.
Then there were the hardest changes of all - the changes in people. Of course we were welcomed with hearty handshakes, tight embraces, and smiles that would warm even the coldest of souls. But as conversations moved from the surface to where true friends commune, we began to see subtle changes in people. The disasters had affected them at their core, and while there had been nine months of healing, in a way I think our return stirred the troubles that lay deep in their hearts. Perhaps because we were a reminder of what had been and how things had changed - a dredging up of the memories of March, as we sat and talked late into the night.They seemed tired, worn, and weary. A quiet sadness hung on their words, as if part of their joy had been buried in the rubble. Only two and a half years had past, but much had changed.
And this, too, was difficult for us, particularly me. I'm very attuned to others' emotions and have a strong sense of empathy. I tended to reflect their tears as they recalled the tragedies they had faced and heard the incredible stories of those first days and weeks following the earthquake. The number of "close calls" that my friends had experienced were more than I had realized or wanted to admit. I continually thanked my Lord for his protection of our friends, despite houses collapsing around them or the necessity of fleeing the tsunami through rice fields and narrowly escaping death. To see the faces I had spent weeks worrying about after the earthquake was wonderful and overwhelming at the same time. I felt so much relief to have had the opportunity to meet them again - but a horrible wrenching in my gut knowing we had to leave again so soon.
However, for me, the most wonderful but difficult of all was my time spent with Ikuko. Iku and her husband Yuko own Akai Ito (the restaurant we drove to for lunch at the beginning of our trip) and we stayed with them while in Misato. She is my Japanese Momma and she and I have a connection that surpasses our 34-year age difference and limited second language skills. I love her deeply and I miss her so much when I'm at home in America. One of my very favorite pictures in the world of her and her husband graces our refrigerator - a poor substitute for her company, but often the best I can get. She and I gobbled up as much time as we could together while we were in Misato. We stayed up until nearly midnight one night (Dan was visiting another friend while I stayed in with the boys after their bedtime). I will treasure those moments always. But they didn't come without occasional tears and sadness, knowing time was short. Iku and Yuko make a living from their restaurant, but I've always gotten the impression that God provides them with "just enough," not leaving much in the way of extra money to save for a trip to America, despite Iku's strong desire to come. And Iku, after I inquired about the serious look on her face, expressed her innermost thought, "I wonder how many more times I'll get to see you in my life." That one sentence will haunt me, perhaps forever. Because I know the truth that lies behind it. Traveling to Japan is difficult, expensive, and rare for our growing family. The fact that we got to return so soon was a huge, unforeseen blessing and one that could not have been achieved without the incredible generosity of Christian Aid & Relief (of course given in exchange for our service in Kesennuma). I honestly have NO idea when we will be able to return. I only know we fully intend to... someday. Iku's 63 years is young by Japanese standards, but the Lord's timing is not always our timing. The earthquake and tsunami made that abundantly clear in the lives of 25,000 people who died last March, just living a normal day. And adding to the earthly separation from her I hate, I struggle also because Iku doesn't know Jesus in the same way I do. I want so badly to have the assurance that we'll have an eternity to be friends, but she, like most of our Japanese friends, doesn't know our Savior. And I had to leave again, leaving the opportunities to share with her my Good News. It still weighs heavy on my heart. I hold her close in prayer and ask the Holy Spirit to continue working in her heart (a seed has definitely shown signs of sprouting over the last six years) and that He provide her with another Christian to help lead her to heaven. Please, Lord. Please...
Anyway, before we knew it, we were cramming more gifts and omiyage (souvenirs) into our suitcases than should be physically possible and loading up the van to head south to Tsuchiura, the starting point of this great big adventure. After one last stop at Town Hall to say goodbye to the mayor and Dan's former co-workers, we drove out of Misato to close that chapter of our trip (actually, we were pulled over by a friend of ours on our way out of town and more gifts were literally
thrown through the window of the van... she just barely caught us before we were gone! We are still chuckling about that memory!). The drive down to Tsuchiura was fast and uneventful and we arrived in good time. It was nice to return to somewhere familiar with all the luxuries of a western home (infused with Japanese touches, of course). It was nice to fall into a soft bed big enough for two for the night, as well as have some room for Dan and Kai to wrestle in the morning. We finished packing and then joined Pastor Wordell and three of the four ladies from Tokyo for lunch (unfortunately Kato-san, Kai's very good buddy, couldn't make it, but it was great to see the other three women and introduce them to Dan!) We had a devotion based on
Isaiah 49:1-6 (Pastor focused on the Messianic prophecy of the reading, but I heard God speak to me through the words as well... almost as if God was speaking of our time in Japan saying, "Well done, My child! I have made you for this purpose and although it was difficult and the results weren't immediate, you have followed My calling and I hold you in My hand. Your reward is with Me." It was a very personal Bible Study for me... probably more than Pastor Wordell even realized!)
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| We couldn't leave Japan without the classic "pose" picture! |
After we met (and got more gifts from the ladies!) we went to a yakiniku tabehodai (all you can eat buffet, specializing in grilled meat that you cook yourself at your table). Kai kind of freaked out at the flames shooting out of the table from the dripping grease and fat from the meat, but he eventually settled down.
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| Kai (far left) hides while Daddy cooks and Pastor Wordell and Niko look on |
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| Niko, on the other hand, didn't bat an eye. |
Kai was finally convinced that this restaurant was OK because they had blue ice cream. I guess that's what it takes to win over a tentative four-year-old. We stuffed ourselves as full as humanly possible in our 90 allotted minutes at "Viking Yakiniku and Sushi" and then said our final goodbyes for the trip. Pastor and the ladies headed back to Tokyo and we headed back to the house for our final night in Japan.
We did have one more visit - Dan's Japanese cousin Satoru (Dan's mom's cousin, actually) visited us after work in Tokyo. He hadn't seen Kai since Kai was three weeks old! And he didn't know we had Niko too! It was a lot of fun to catch up on the Japanese side of our family and again learn how God had protected our loved ones through the disasters (Satoru was supposed to be at a meeting in Miyagi the day the earthquake hit, but they had rescheduled the meetings). It was great to see him... I hope to see him this side of the ocean sometime soon! :o)
And just like that, it was time to get on the plane. Traveling went as smoothly as it could have with a nearly four-year-old and a baby and after 30 hours of traveling door-to-door, we entered our house for first time in over a month. As usual, our suitcases literally exploded all over the house, and even over a week later, I'm still putting stuff away. Part of that process is sorting through the thoughts and feelings that are residual from the trip and reconciling them with the thoughts and feelings associated with being home. It has been an unexpected bout of reverse culture shock in some ways, even though it was only five weeks that we were gone. But a life-changing, challenging five weeks. I'm so grateful for the people in my life that are willing to listen and help us readjust until the next adventure (especially me, feeling a lack of purpose now). My mom, my best friend Sandie, my avid blog follower and former Miyagian Adina (along with many, many others) are all playing important roles in our return to Wyoming. Thank you, God, for these women. I am strong, but stronger with them and their willingness to listen!
Now to wait for whatever is next... never my strong point, but a necessary ingredient in life. Until the next Tadaima!
@ndi
