A Gaijin in Japan

We've been in Japan for a total of 3 weeks now. 
It is fun, crazy, confusing, stressful, amazing. 
It is a mix of emotions while riding a wild roller coaster.

We don't quite fit in all the way. 
Husband isn't military, yet he works for them.
We're not nationals, but we try to use proper
etiquette and fit in as best we can. 
We're just hanging somewhere altogether different.
(But, I know about that all to well. You'll read about that 
in my next post.)

A Japanese national described her country in one word:
*Harmony*.  The Japanese folks strive for harmony among
each other. Personally, I'd describe it in one word as "OCD". 
I've never seen people so obsessed with the rule of things.
Code of dress. Time. Punctuality. Work ethic. It's nuts! 

And yet, I wish my own country would adopt some of their
common courtesies, rules and ethics. I know that the 
independent spirit is what made America great, but
sometimes I wish we were a little more "us", and a 
little less "me". 

I wish our dress code was what it used
to be and what it is in Japan today. Sure, 
everyone in Japan is wearing black and 50 
shades of gray, but you can walk down the street 
and you will not see "pants on the ground". 

And femininity is so alive in Japan. 
So many of the girls and women wear skirts 
and dresses. Maybe it's because it's part of their
school or work uniform. But, it is so lovely to see.
The issue of modesty is different in Japan then 
in America. It is immodest to wear a shirt or blouse
that is much below the collar bone. Yet, their skirts
can be quite high sometimes. But, it still seems to
be an improvement from "let it all hang out" as it
is in my own country. 

Do you know what is the status symbol in Japan?
A car? No. A house? Nope. It is their clothes. 
They dress impeccably. They always seem to match,
have it "all together". They look professional. You 
won't see ripped jeans, low cut blouses, short-shorts
with the pockets sticking out, cut-out tee shirts, 
underwear showing from wearing jeans way down
low. It isn't done. 

Now, when I do see a kid on the street with his 
underwear hanging over his jeans, it takes all that
I have not to walk over there and yank up his pants!
I feel embarrassed because he, like myself, are 
ambassadors of our country. But, I'm sure the 
nationals know by now that we don't all dress 
that way. (But it still gets under my skin.) 

These are just some of the things I've noticed 
in the short time that we've been here so far. 
You are welcome to follow along if you would
like. I'm sure there will be many more things
to come!

Catch Up Tiime

So.............
We sold our house last summer. Yeah!
Then, we moved into a wonderful apartment in another town. 
My husband applied for a job in The South and was accepted for the position. 
(The South is great! I love the sweet tea! And the chicken...... And, the BBQ......And.....)

We arrived in The South, and were there for all of 3 weeks when 
another job application opportunity arose. He applied, and 1 month
later he was accepted for the position. And, where is this position? 
This time it is on the other side of the world. Crazy? Yes.

Actually, this move seems perfectly logical....
We have moved across the hall, across town, across the state, 
across the country, and that leaves us with only one option left..... 
to move across the world. Being the crazy folks we are, 
how could we resist? 

So, packers and movers came and put all of our things into crates.
Our things are currently all nestled into boxes, ready to sail to the 
other side of the world.

It still doesn't feel real. Our stuff is gone, but it doesn't phase me because
for the past 6 months, our things have been in storage while we've been living
in a camper during that time. Yes, 5 people and the dog all living in a 240 
square foot camper for 5 months. Things are feeling just a little bit tight. 
We just call it an extended family vacation. Now, anything we rent overseas
will feel like a mansion!  

We are currently just waiting for our passports, and then we should be taking off!
I hope you'll follow our adventure as we experience the wonderful, the weird,
and the wacky!

And the deaf hear

For the past few years now, I haven't been able to 

understand church services due to my declining speech 

discrimination/hearing loss. Just yesterday, I was asking 

God, "What is the point in going to church? I  can't       

understand anything anymore." I just sit, growing 

increasingly frustrated, feeling like I could be using my 

time better at home. 



Last week, the service was about how hearing is the most 

effective way to take in information. And, I was thinking, 

"Well, isn't that a slap in the face?" This week, I went, 

but had my "loop" and microphone. Husband asked the 

priest to please put on the microphone for me, 

explaining that I would be able to hear and understand 

him better with it. And, he happily agreed.



Service started. He began talking. And, I began to cry. 

I could understand what he was saying. It was clear. 

His message? About JOY. About how the blind 

will see, how the deaf will hear. I had tears of joy 

streaming down my face today. God used that loop 

to allow me to hear again!



God answered my prayers today.........................

and I was able to hear.

My Lord is amazing! 



"The blind receive their sight, and the lame walk, the 

lepers are cleansed,and the deaf hear, the dead are 

raised up, and and the poor have the gospel preached 

to them"  Mathew 11:5


"Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the 

ears of the deaf unstopped."

Isaiah 35:5

From HOH To Being Deaf

Over the past three or four years, I could tell that my 
hearing aids were growing weak. I was struggling to 
hear my family members, but I thought, the hearing aids 
still work, so I'll just hang on to them until they quit 
working altogether. And, it happened. One hearing aid 
quit working right while we were in the middle of packing 
and moving out of our house. We move out of our house, 
move into another, and get settled in. 

So, I go to the the audiologist, take the audio-gram.
Order hearing aids, molds, and go on my marry way
thinking that I'll be able to hear just fine once I get 
the new hearing aids. Wrong.

While I'm waiting for my new aids to arrive, I compare 
an old audio-gram to the most recent one that I had 
taken just a few days earlier. Upon looking at my 
test results, I see that something is very wrong. 
I consult with someone online, and they confirm my fears. 
I have lost 50% more hearing in both ears. Or rather, 
I have lost 50% of my capacity to discriminate spoken words. 
I now only have a 20% speech threshold in my right ear, 
and about a 42% threshold in my left ear. And, that is 
in a quiet environment. I have basically gone from being
hard of hearing, to being deaf. 

I am in disbelief. How? I'm already hard of hearing, how 
could I lose more? I was naive to think that the hearing 
that I did have would always stay. It hadn't changed for 
nearly 40 years. So, I had no reason to think otherwise. 

I began to panic. I began to think about all the folks that
I felt bad for because they had lost their hearing later in life.
I always felt that I was blessed in that way. I have always
been hard of hearing. So, I never had to go through the grief
of losing something that once was a vital part of myself. 
Until now. Now, I worried. Wondering what I was going to do.

How would I homeschool the kids? How does my husband
feel about me losing more hearing? Will it get worse?
Will I be isolated even more?  

I began to research CI's. (Cochlear Implants)
After just an hour or so, I could see that it wasn't the
right choice for me. The idea of having my ear cut away 
from my head, then re-sewn over a metal object, made me
feel just a bit queasy. I also wasn't too keen with the idea 
of having two holes drilled into my skull. Add to that, 
the fact that cell phones can interfere with the CI's. And if I 
ever need an MRI (and I have in the past), it will be an auditory
hell! So, while they may be great for some folks, they are just
not my kind of thing.  

So, where does that leave me? Well, I can feel sorry for myself. 
Yes, I'm scared. It is likely that I'll lose even more in the future. 
But, I don't have to let it ruin my life. I can be pro-active about it. 
What does that mean? It means that before, I had toyed with the 
idea of teaching my children ASL, and now, I order some ASL 
(American Sign Language) books. It means that it will have to 
be a family affair to learn sign language. It means, that in order 
to continue homeschooling my children, we'll need to make 
a few adjustments. It also means that we'll have to learn 
more patience, and be more loving and caring. That is what 
being pro-active looks like.

Will the journey get harder? Very likely. But, I'll just have
to be more humble, ask for extra help, surround myself 
with more friends and family (this is my biggest challenge), 
and try harder at life. And, a sense of humor. Anything is 
easier to handle with a sense of humor!

And, truth be told, I am still very happy! I still have my
family, and they love me. And, I know God has a plan for me.
For this. I trust Him because I know that He loves me too. 

     

If Church Came To Life

I'm deaf/hard of hearing. 
I usually go to church on Sunday with my husband and children.
We go to Catholic church.
When we go, I cannot understand the priest. 
So, my eyes tend to wander, as does my mind. 
I love things that stimulate my eyes.
I love color, light, and texture.
And, today, while sitting in church, I began to think about how wonderful 
it would be if church could really come to life. 

Wouldn't it be incredible if, when the organ played, each note would 
produce a different color? The deeper the note, the deeper the hue of 
the color that it produced. The softest notes would be pastel, and almost
invisible. The colors would float down softly and eventually vanish like fog.

And, the pictures in stained glass. Wouldn't it be marvelous if they would
come alive and move in the windows? They would glitter with the sun 
shining through them as they moved. We could watch the Last Supper 
come to life, and see Jesus going up to Heaven. 

And the priest. I wish that he had a special microphone that would let the words
he spoke be spelled out from his lips in mid-air. Every single word would 
come tumbling out of his mouth in various bold colors. And, it wouldn't 
matter if you could hear him or not, because the words would be visible 
and linger in the air.

I wish that when it was time to say, "Peace be with you", and shake hands 
with my neighbors in the pews, that when our hands came together, there
was an instant connection, an electric charge, something that would help
us instantly understand each other better. 

I wish that when we touched the holy water and put it to our head, chest,
and shoulders to make the sign of the cross, that it would immediately 
cleanse away our fears, worries, grief, pain, and the sin we've been 
harboring in our hearts. I wish those few drops of water could truly 
make our hearts clean.

I imagine that if church could be like this, more people would come
a whole lot more often. I know I would. On earth we only have 
ordinary church with ordinary services. But, I know that someday,
when I go Home, I'll witness something that is most extraordinary!  

God's Deaf Child

I am a Christian. 
I love God. Deeply. 
I go to church most Sundays.
And, I don't understand a word. 
I'm deaf. 

My husband is Catholic, so we go to Catholic church.
They do have what is called a missal, a book that has in it
the Bible verses that will be read that day, and part of 
what the priest will discuss. It helps. But not very much.
It is hard to lip read the priest because he stands so far
away. Even from the very front pew, there is too much space
between him and I. And I soon grow tired from reading his lips.

Instead, I sit in church, staring at the ornate statues, 
the stations of the cross, and the brightly colored stained
glass windows. Sometimes, I just fold my hands and look at them.

I've tried praying while in church, but I can still hear some noise, 
and it is enough to distract me. 

I think that my husband and I are both selfish. 
I think that he is selfish because he wants me to attend Catholic 
church because that is what he has done all of his life. I want to 
go someplace that will stimulate my senses since that is how 
I learn best. But I know not where to go. Sometimes, he has 
suggested that we could go somewhere else, but I know it 
wouldn't be permanent, because if it were, it would likely nearly 
break his heart. 

But, it's like I once told him: Sometimes, for me, going to 
church is the equivalent of taking a blind person to a 
silent movie. Neither of us will get anything out of it. 
And, for both of us, it would be a waste of our time.  

I think that I'm selfish because I don't want to attend church 
due to lack of understanding, yet Christ died on a cross for me.   
Or rather, I do want to attend church, but I'd like to be able 
to understand it, be inspired, and be spiritually fed. 
So, I see: I don't want to sit in a church for an hour without 
gaining anything, but a man died for my own sins. Yeah, there 
is no guilt there. But, I also don't want to waste time. I gain 
more out of reading my Bible, devotionals, and journaling for 
an hour then I do sitting in church for the same amount of time. 
I even tried taking my Bible, journal, and devotionals to church
with me and doing them there, but I felt bad. Guilty. 
It was like being in history class, but reading a book for 
literature class. 

This issue has tormented me for the past 16 years.
And, I don't think that I'm any closer to gaining an answer today
then I was then. 

Some folks have suggested that I ask the church to be looped 
in order to work with my hearing aids. But, that is expensive and 
I couldn't ask them to do that when I know we'll be moving again.
Some folks have suggested a sign language interpreter, but there
are none in the churches we've attended. 

One person did make a good point. They suggested that I go
in order to set a good example for our children. To show them 
that even when it isn't always easy to go to church, we should
still go. This way they learn that going to church is important.
I think this is an excellent point, I just don't know if it's enough
to keep me going back to sit for an hour doing nothing, 
gaining nothing.

I think that if I had my way, I'd hold church in my house.
A few other couples (no more then three couples total)
could come to our home, and we could all worship together.
It would be small, personal, up close for easier lip reading,
no echoes, no babies crying in the background, no sense of
frustration from not understanding the message. Just a small
group of people reading the Bible, sharing their thoughts, 
helping each other understand the word, and sharing their
love for Christ. I wish it were that easy. But for various
reasons, it will likely never happen. So, I continue on 
my search for an answer. 

Maybe some day soon, God will open my eyes, and my husband's
eyes, and show us a way to worship Him together. Because in 
the end, that's all I want. I want us both to be able to understand, 
worship, and to be spiritually fed together.  

The Cleansing of Grief

This December will be the 3rd year anniversary of my mom's passing.
(You can read about that journey in my earliest blog posts.)
I have since discovered that grief is a form of cleansing if you
will allow it to do so.

I was arguing with my oldest this morning about the fact that he
is striving for the impossible.......perfection. How it is not attainable.
And, how, when he asks for advice, every answer I give is the wrong answer.
It will always be the wrong answer because he wants the perfect answer.
We went on arguing for about an hour. When it was over, I sat down
and reflected about the exchange of words that had occurred between us.
Nothing serious, just two stubborn people going round in circles.
My son reflects my pride so well that it makes me cringe.
At least that is how it used to be.

Before my mom passed away, I was so filled with passion.....but the
wrong kind. The kind that slowly grows and makes a soul ugly from the
inside out. The kind of passion that will choke a person's spirit.
Pride. Arrogance. Stubbornness. Envy. Haughty. Narrow mindedness.
Argumentative. I had it all. I was it all. And, I wouldn't listen to anyone,
because I thought I already knew it all. Quite frankly, I'm amazed that I
even have a husband who loves me as much as he does.

My heart also contained love, but it was being choked out by all
the other nasty things that grew rampant in my heart.
And, then, my mom died.

A garden. There were a few flowers. Beautiful flowers.
They were called Love, Kindness and Compassion.
But they were far and few between.
The rest was all overrun with weeds.
Big, deep, winding, twisting weeds.
They were called Pride, Arrogance, Stubbornness, Envy,
Bitterness, Anger, and Resentment. They crawled, and snaked
into the garden. They had choked out the good that once
bloomed everywhere.

Then she died. And, everything in the garden died with her.
At least that is how it felt.

And, the garden was stripped bare.
Everything. Gone. Love, Pride, Envy, Arrogance, Stubbornness,
Kindness and Compassion.........all gone. Only dust was left.
The garden was bare. Empty.

My soul had been shaken inside-out. Cleansed. Scrubbed. Put through the wringer.
But, it was clean. Of everything. The grief had done a good job of cleansing me and
leaving me on my knees. But, I was clean. The garden cleared.

Then, new dirt was laid. A second chance.
A fresh start. A chance to plant new seeds. Carefully.
So, as to not plant the same weeds twice.

So, new seeds have been planted. Sowed deep in the fertile ground.
Love. Kindness. Compassion. Patience. More Love. Humility.
Empathy. Servitude. And, still, even more Love.

It's a fresh start. Small. But, new. And, for the first time in ages,
I can look inside myself, inside my heart, and I don't hate what I see.
I don't hate who I see. Not too long ago, I'd look at myself, and I used
to cringe at the sight of myself. I didn't like what I saw, but I didn't
realize that what I saw was caused by who I had become. I was too
full of myself, and too arrogant to see it at the time.

But, not today. Today, I strive for something different. Something better.
I strive for humility and for love. And, I think that when those two things
are achieved, everything else that is good will follow. I know that the weeds
will still crop up. But, I won't let them overrun my heart and take over.
And, I believe that prayer will help with that. Prayer to ask for wisdom
and understanding. To ask for forgiveness. To ask for positive change.

Today, I saw myself reflected back to me through my son.
My hope for him is that he is a faster learner then I. That he will
learn to prune his heart, and not let the weeds choke his spirit as
I had once done. I hope that he won't let this old world contaminate
what is good inside his soul. Won't let them harden his heart.
I hope that he will recognize the changes I've made and imitate
those changes, instead of imitating who I used to be. I pray that
his heart will always be a garden filled with wonderful flowers
and that it will never be choked out by the weeds. And, I hope that
the next time I see my reflection in the words that he speaks,
that I'll love what I see.

"Love suffers long and is kind; 
love does not envy; 
love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; 
does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, 
is not provoked, thinks no evil; 
does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; 
bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails."
       1 Corinthians 13:4-8 (NKJV)