grace lessons

I kept checking the weather app on my phone. Yikes. It would be almost as hot there as it was here. We were trying to escape the unusual lingering Tokyo summer heat. Would we want to drive over 4 hours and pay hefty tolls to continue to be hot and sweaty...and not even have the option to cool off with AC? At least in our apartment we could ward off the heat and humidity with the non-stop use of the little unit humming cool, dry air at us. Groan. But we were desperate for some time away. We had planned this week of vacation months ago, purposefully avoiding the August heat, since September was usually a more pleasant weather month along the north-east coast of the main island.Well, we were desperate. A "stay-cation" would not feel like a holiday and we were in serious need of some R & R. We needed to get out of the city, away from emails and away people. We would just lower our expectations and swelter through the hot days with lots of fans (5!! to be exact) blowing the sticky damp air around and eat lots and lots, and lots, of ice cream. 

Upon arrive and a cool salty dip in the seaweedy sea we felt days away, not hours away, from ministry burdens.  Hot or not, it was heavenly. 

Soon to follow was a conviction of my begrudging attitude toward God. My unprayed prayer had been  something like," Hey, we've been working hard for you. Even above and beyond. We deserve a restful vacation. So why are you messing it up with bad weather?" It is embarrassing to write. And even more convicting to think about. My attitude of entitlement, that I scoff at in others and in American each time I am home, was very sickenly portrayed in me. And yes, about something as unimportant and trivial as the desired weather for week's vacation. 

You see, missionaries too, struggle with slipping in to the ugly mindset that we deserve God's blessings.  Somehow my fleshly mindset storms through that I deserve nice things, nice people and a nice life. And we can pout on the sidelines in our entitlement throne when otherwise. "My home church should give me more time to share after all I am doing this great missionary work." "Why aren't my partners concerned about my wellbeing, I'm human too...and look how hard I work." "Why aren't others giving more since they comparably have so much more?"  "God should bless my ministry because after all it's really important." "God should reward me with trips to see my kids because I have given up so much for Him."  

The pathetic list could go on and on. 

In my case, this time, I was wanting God to bless me with comfortable temperature for my vacation. And I was rather put out that He wasn't delivering.

Just writing about it fills me with humility and makes me queasy. Yuck. But this is partly why I started writing this blog umpteen years ago. I wanted those at home to see that missionaries are real people too. Messy families with messy lives. And messy hearts too.  Oh course, God doesn't need to read online about my frail and weak humanity. He already knows it and graciously challenges me to get past myself. 

I was reminded in a sermon by R.C. Sproul how Christians easily slip in to expecting God's blessings. At first, God blesses us and our response is thankfulness. But then, as He continues to bless we begin to expect it. And then, we start to think we deserve it. 

It's not even that we deserve no blessings, it is that we deserve the opposite, punishment. Judgement. Death, hell and separation from God. That's what I deserve. 

And in God's mercy we don't get that what we deserve. We get salvation, freedom, life and community. And then heaped upon that, God pours out His blessings of grace. Little wonderful things in our life like: churches who want to hear what God is doing in Japan, partners who love on us and send care packages, hints of fruit in our passion-filled ministry and video calls with precious family that connect us over long times a part. God didn't HAVE to give me any of this. I didn't earn it or don't deserve it. 

And He continues to bless me with His goodness; like a cool breeze that blows across the ocean into the stuffy humidity of a cabin window. Even more than the restoring gust of crisp air, I need the reminder from an ancient radio preacher that I am not getting what I deserve but getting the undeserved gifts of grace. And remembering that changes the attitude of my mind. Just like a clinking glass of cold iced tea, my heart fills with thankfulness that pours refreshment over my weathered soul.

Same tune...just a little different melody

I guess it is the same now as when I first started out. The call seemed too big. And me, too little to follow.  If you hear me share how God led me to Japan as a missionary, you’ll hear that I didn’t want to come. Food, culture, language: aspects exist most cross-cultural workers, left me feeling ominous and ready to run in the other direction. 

Going to Japan seemed just too hard. But then I finally realized God wasn’t calling me because of what I liked or could do, He just wanted me to be willing to walk where He was leading me. He wanted my submission and obedience, not my flare of foreign languages and exquisite sushi taste buds. “Not my will, but Yours, Lord.”  It was the cry of my heart and my final surrendering prayer, after months of wrestling with my stubbornness.  Just as I am I humbly hummed. 

 

Still, years later. Years and years and years, later.  I am in the very same spot. These circulatory lessons continue. I stop and look at what I am called too and it seems too much. I am not adequate. I am not enough. I tire too easily, get people-out, get overwhelmed. I am not smart enough or capable enough. I am not young enough. 

 

As I wrestle again before the Lord, I am gently reminded that the loving, capable Potter knows what a messy, useless lump of clay I am. He knows that I am a broken vessel. And at times, even in bits and pieces.  And yet He still gently and graciously calls me. 

The paradox is that this is probably where He wants me to be. Bowed down and in understanding of my lack.  Needy, but willing. Just where I should be. Just how it is supposed to be. For in my weakness, He is strong.  And because of my emptiness, He can fill me up.  And use me. For then all the glory goes to Him. And Him alone. 

 

The tune of an old hymn comes to mind. “Just as I am....I come". Years ago, on bended knee, I sang these words. Just as I am, I will go. Wherever you lead, I will follow. And now, many weary years later, the song is a little more faint, but still just as sweet. It’s a prayer of a weak, but willing heart to serve, however and wherever He asks. Just as I am, I will stay. 

Turn your eyes upon

"Where are you looking?" is a question I have been asking myself lately.  Or maybe it is the Lord asking me, as His Spirit searches my mind and heart and challenges my sinful, selfishness which tends to look everywhere, but where I should be looking.  

Scripture verses about where to set my gaze seem to jump off the page at me. Where will I look? Where is my focus? On Jesus and the eternal kept for me? Or to the fleshly of the here and now, which easily disappoints and doesn't satisfy.  This was a reminder I needed years ago when leaving our young adult children and newborn grandies behind to return to Japan. Where was I fixing my eyes? God's Word chastened me with the answer: Not on this world's blessings or pleasures, but on Jesus who is all I need and the rewards of serving Him both now and forever more.

Lately I am reminded of this needed correction, each time I walk out onto our little 2nd story patio.  This veranda was one of the reasons I was eager to take this apartment. Even though it is narrow and facing a cement wall, it is spacious and bright, with a good amount of sunshine peaking over the adjacent building's nearby walls. Since we have a small apartment, this balcony gives us some more living and breathing space. Contrary to all our other neighbor's, our's is decked out in it's fullness: an inviting and cheerily decorated green spot. This is my favorite place to eat a leisurely day off breakfast or to cool off with the evening's breezes as I lean out to catch a glimpse of the crayoned sunset clouds.

When I sit here, sipping a cup of tea, I can't help but look at the pile of unsightly collectables in the rented parking spot below.  Some worker's have used it for storage and a sort of...well, garbage dump. You might be surprised at how grumpy I become while looking at that mess.  We have worked hard to create a restful, refreshing spot...a little oasis from the mess of life and ministry. And here, we were looking right at it, the very thing I am trying to escape.  I even put up a bamboo screen, hoping to deter my wondering eye.  But no such luck, its' still there, with just a hint of consetration.  

And it was while sitting here, looking and complaining, that the Spirit of God convicted me...and He has had to many times...and I am sure many times more to come.  "You choose what you look at. Choose to look at the beauty instead of the grime below." Where would I hold my gaze? It is an act of will to divert my eyes. Would I soak in the tranquil picturesque on that balcony that brings joy and hope? Or would I gap at the junk pile that brings discontentment and grumbling? It is so true with my life as well. Instead of looking at the mound of work, uncertainties, worries and unending "to do's" that overwhelm, I need to choose instead, to shift my gaze to Jesus and His Word. To think on His promises of heaven to come. To gaze at the beauty and goodness He is and to meditate on His Word that brings life, strength and peace; even more so that my little, beloved veranda garden. 

Happy Anniversary!

Our anniversary was marked as a “day off” on the calendar. We had several fun options of outings or restaurants in hopes of celebrating. But instead, the day found us takings naps, watching sitcom comedies and making homemade pizza and chocolate covered strawberries.  Nothing too exciting or breath taking, but all fun aspects that made it feel special just the same. With a recent medical procedure for one of us and the other of us feeling tired from work and fighting off getting sick, the confines of home met us unexpectedly, but not unhappily. 

 

And isn’t this what celebrating 32 years of marriage should really look like?  Rather than grandiose gifts or expensive excursions, life together in the mundane is where it is at.  Making little efforts to make the day feel special, even in our weaknesses and limitations, doing what you can with what you have, is what celebrating real life together is all about. A small planter of flowers brings joy and romance.  And sitting together on the couch and praying for our children and grand-children brings thanks and contentment.

What a ride these 3 decades plus have been. We’ve walked under cherry blossoms together, moved cardboard boxes together, flown across the ocean with babies together, cried about ministry mistakes together…the list goes on and on.  Celebrations and cheering. Disillusions and disappointments. In each of these, sticking-it-out even when hurt and frustrated. Covered by forgiveness. Propelled forward by obedience. Floating in a flood of God’s empowering grace which overflows with His goodness and faithfulness so evidently seen in the big and little areas of our life. God has grown us to know Him more and He has used our differences to buffer us to be more balanced and hopefully a little more like Jesus. It hasn't always been easy, but it has been good. And we have always been blessed.

Honey, I'm thankful or you. For a partner to walk along with; as we look back to see all God’s loving Hand has done and we trust Him to walk with us in the unknown, and at-times-overwhelming days ahead. You have been my rock. The one who listens and brings me back to truth and reality. And you have loved my wholeheartedly. You have been the leader of our home, (even when I am not the easiest to lead) modeling steadfastness and service. Being a fun daddy to our boys and playing catch and Catan. Your heart for others to know Jesus in infectios and spurs me, and others, to care the same. Today and always, I thank God for you. 

To God be the Glory. Great things He has done. 

jet lag | ˈjet ˌlaɡ | noun extreme tiredness and other physical effects felt by a person after a long flight across several time zones: she was suffering from jet lag and needed to rest.

I rolled out of bed in the dark, fumbling around for my phone. The too bright screen greeted me as I squinted my eyes. It read 5 am. “Well, I guess that is a bit better,” I thought to myself as I groped around for a sweatshirt and wool slipper-socks to combat the early morning's winter cold.  

Jet lag. A traveler’s worst nightmare….at least in my opinion. We have tried all the tricks and hacks.  Melatonin. Drowsy cough medicine. Drinking lots of water. Getting exercise and sunshine. Even starting to adjust your sleeping times to the time zone you are going to days before your trip. But no matter how hard I’ve tried to combat it, jet lag is the travel companion I just can’t shake.  It hits me harder and lingers longer than I think possible, no matter how many times I have weathered through it.  Experience hasn’t helped me much with this one. I actually think it is getting worse. 

 

My husband and kids, on the other hand, handle it pretty well. My husband, after doing extremely well this past week after a whirlwind overseas trip, jokingly quoted one of our sons who proudly proclaimed years ago, “Jet lag? There is no such thing.” I think our kids tried to see who could get over jet-lag the quickest, hoping to at least out-do one of their brothers. (Not that we are all completive or anything…)

 

I, unfortunately, in the early evening succumb and crash into bed at 7pm only to wake up at 2am. Then I work madly and quite capably on my overfull email in box, getting lots of work done. But then by 9am, I want to crawl back in bed.  Even if I do curl up for a needed morning nap, I lay there unable to actually sleep, even though I am too tired to move and I lay there in groggy haze wondering what on earth is wrong with me.  Then, the rest of the day, I am doomed to a zombie-like state fighting off a foggy head and grumpy spirit; hoping to at least stay awake a bit later tonight than the previous night. 

 

I have realized through that the high price of traveling home to see family is this awful plague, lightly referred to as jet-lag. But it is still worth it; for the chance to get away. To be dropped in another world that literally is a world away from life and ministry here. To connect even for a few days or a few hours to our sweet family and friends. To be a part of their world and renew these precious relationships, build community and make sweet memories. Jet lag is costly, but it comes at a price I am willing to pay; for the dividends of connecting to family and friends are well worth it. 

the things you get excited about

It's funny when you think about the things you get excited about overseas.  What you can take for granted at home, you are elated to be able to find or buy when living as an expat.  My recent elation has been fresh cranberries. Even dried ones can be hard to find here. And canned cranberry sauce?  Well, forget about it.  

These bright red cranberries have been my toast all fall and Christmas season.  I wasn't quite desperate enough to tackle homemade cranberry sauce, although I did think about. But I did enjoy cranberry muffins and even in my granola bars; those pops of tangy red...well, yum. 

So, on my list of things of things to be thankful for...cranberries.  Just another reminder that God's blessings and goodness come in all sorts of shapes and sizes.  This one just happens to be little and round. 

Recipe for Granola Bars 

2 cups Oats

1 1/2 cup Flour

3/4 cup packed Brown Sugar

3/4 teaspoon Salt

1/4 teaspoon Cinnamon

1/2 cup Olive Oil

1/2 cup Honey

2 teaspoons Vanilla

1 Egg

Preheat oven to about 350 F (170 C). Mix the first 5 ingredients. Add the rest of the ingredients and mix just until moist. Drop by spoonfuls on a paper lined baking sheet. Bake for about 10 minutes or until desired crunchiness. Or press into buttered, foil lined pan (about  9x13 inch) and bake for about 25 minutes.  Peel off foil, let cool and cut into bars.  Either way you make them, they are good for several days or can be frozen. Optional additions are white or chocolate chips, raisins, walnuts, dried cranberries, etc. I also like to add some sea salt to the cookie shaped ones. The batter can also be stored in the fridge for up to about 5 days, so we just make a few each morning for a yummy breakfast.  This recipe was adapted from Good Housekeeping magazine. ENJOY!

Christmas Memories: Past, Present and Future

As I think back over our many Christmases with our family in Japan, I realize I put a lot of time and energy into making sure it didn't feel sad and lonely.  Of course we were busy with church outreaches and giving gifts to neighbors and our kids were a part of that. But once the ministry commitments died down and we found ourselves at home for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, we sometimes had to ward off feeling lonely and missing out.  Even though our kids wouldn't have foil-covered chocolate Santas in their stockings and grandparents wouldn't be over for turkey dinner, we still wanted there to be good memories of special times together.  

More and more of Western-Christmas-commercialism is visible in Japan, but in years past it often felt like it was only Christmas in our home. So I decked our halls, big-time. I'd try to make every nostalgic Christmas cookie possible. And Kenny G would be playing in the back ground with candles lit in the center of our red table cloth; whatever it took to feel cozy and special and to not miss, at least too much, an American Christmas and our American family. We tried to create a place where memories were shared and the best gifts, weren't expensive presents under the tree, but the gift of the 5 of us as family. And that was something we celebrated, not just at Christmas, but all year long. 

I was so surprised to find Advent calendar bags at the ¥100 store and painted numbers on them with a stencil. For the cost of only a few dollars, Tim and I could have a fun daily treat along with our Advent devotional reading.  You are never too old for Advent chocolates! And especially now with the kids gone, and it is just the 2 of us, we'll continue to celebrate Christmas in big and little ways with many more special memories left to make. 

Something I never did in America but do now is pray about mail. Granted the U.S. postal system has its share of challenges and probably could use some prayer, but at home you often rely on organized systems around you that promise convenience and accuracy. And things all around can be relied upon to keep life moving at the swift, successful pace that we all tend to think we deserve and have grown to expect. 

Well, life oversees just isn't like that. And I am sure, much-much more in countries that have economic and political instabilities; again, we have life pretty easy in Japan. But even here, we have our share of challenges with red-tape and bureaucracy, as well as things that just don't make sense to my ever-lingering Western-American brain.  

We just started to be able to send small AIR MAIL packages again.  WHOO HOO. Just in time for the holidays!!  Things were almost at a stand-still with Covid and have just recently started moving forward to some amount of normalcy. So a few days ago  I wrote a few Christmas cards to friends and family. And we sent small care packages of Japanese snacks and treats to our kids and grandkids. I probably should have sent them all a few weeks ago since I am hoping for a before-Christmas arrival.  

Sending packages with the Japanese Post Office has gotten more complicated with having to create a log in and registering your parcel online. Even though the website is in English, it has been a bit confusing to navigate.  But I have figured it out and been able to print the official needed label. I even rode my bike a little further to the main-branch post office rather than the mini-one around the corner where the workers aren't too shy of foreigners trying to send overseas packages and are confident and helpful.

So, now, all that is left to do is pray. Pray these envelopes and packets will safely and quickly be delivered. (We just heard about an Easter card that just arrived being mis-sent to Jamaica or some crazy far-off place.) But even if it takes awhile, we trust that some love tucked in to their mail boxes will bring a little extra love and cheer to our family far away. 

Come by yourself to a quiet place

The silence was soothing as I sat and looked out the window feeling the warmth of the morning sunshine.  Hints of dusty blue mountain silhouettes peaked through the evergreen branches. I sat there soaking in the quiet. No agenda. No timetable. Just being still with my journal and God's Word open before me. I pulled the little electric space heater nearer and reached for the wool blanket. The sun felt like God's presence pouring in and lighting up any dreariness and lifting the heavy loads that threatened to linger. 

I wonder if Jesus enjoyed moments like this when He went away by Himself to a quiet place. And maybe this is this why God, who never gets tired, exemplified a day of rest for us. Whether it is a few days holiday or a sabbath day off, I need time away from my emails and packed full schedule. I need to leave problems and people behind to just sit awhile and clear my head. It is not that I am so important or my ministry role that urgent, but it is all-encompassing with it's needs and requests that over-fill my head and hands. 

I am not good at resting. I love to have things checked off my list and my inbox empty. I like to feel I've accomplished something and that my presence here is worthwhile. I want to be seen as capable and doing a good job. But sometimes my head, and heart, get too full and my gas gauge too low. And I need some quiet time to clear space, to let all I've decided and done process through and my fast-passed-world just to settle.  

It's ok to have a life of serving and ministry, but that is not what defines me. And quiet rest time reminds me of that. I am weak and dispensable, things aren't centered around me or going well because of me. When I sit quite long enough that reality resurfaces. In the stillness, my head empties of the clutter and makes space for Truth and Promises. Words of who I am and Who I belong to. Saving Grace that washes  away all that is hurried and hassled, makes paths for restful, soothing peace to flow freely. 

well...at least it builds character

Sometimes you gotta be tough to make it in missionary life. And I know we have nothing to compare with others in REALLY HARD TO LIVE places. But life and ministry in Japan has still been a challenge. And even after many, many years of growth, I still find myself challenged and pushed out of my comfort zone, growing just a wee layer more to be more hardy and do what needs to be done. 

These last few days at one of our mission's holiday homes was no different. I enjoyed 3 personal retreat days of refreshing quiet, extravagant autumn leaves and misty mountain views sprinkled with icing snow for dessert. Although, not everything was as picturesque as the picture below that I messaged a friend.  For a troop of hoppers (dead and alive) greeted me the first cold night I arrived. The drains hadn't been  covered by the last person staying.  Most of these little critters were in the bath, so needless to say I avoided taking a shower for the first few days until I mustered up enough courage to vacuum my little house-mates up. Sorry guys. No vacancy. 

I was relived that someone had graciously filled the petrol can in the shed.  I had visions of trying to cart the heavy plastic cartons in my car from the gas station to fill the little canister in the small kerosene stove that heated the apartment. Instead it was fast and easy, compared to when I've had to pour it by hand, ending with a smelly mess. There was even a fancy hose that pumped the gas into the little metal tank with the push of a button. Whala! Mission accomplished!

So I am toasty warm and bug free. And enjoying my last day of books, music, messages and walks. Quite the high-life for this veteran missionary gal who rather likes things comfy and snug...and especially likes her vacation cabins spindly leg and antenna free. 

I often think that we have lived a more healthy lifestyle because we live in Japan.  First of all, we exercise more. Not like "go to the gym where we have a membership dressed in stylish workout clothes and pump iron" exercise, although that is always a good idea. I mean we are active. We need something at the store? We hop on our bicycle and ride 5-10 minutes to a shop, purchase the needed item put it in our bike basket and then ride home. Even though we have a car, we rarely do errands in it as it is faster and easier to take our bicycle and more do-able to find a parking spot for our two-wheel, rather than four-wheel, transportation. So life in Japan keeps us moving and each time we spend more than a few months in the U.S. we find our growing girth sluggishly reminding us it's time to head back to Japan. 

So thanks Japan for keeping us trim...well, trimmer and our heart healthy....well, healthier. 

I also think we eat better in Japan. Not better in the sense of "Crispy Cream Donuts and In-and-Out hamburgers" better (this of course is the "better" we engulf in very happily while home) but the better I am referring to is healthy-better. We aren't too tempted by food around us (well besides sushi and ramen...but I never heard of raw fish and thin noodles in some salty soup on the bad-for-your-body list). If we want something really tasty, like cookies or cake, we usually have to make it. This of course makes the above happen (you know, hop on the bike to buy the ingredients...pedal, pedal, pedal...you get the idea). We also don't eat a lot of processed or frozen food because we have to make it ourselves. This includes a lot of soups and breads as well as sweet snacks like granola bars. It just isn't available. So if we want to eat it, then we have to make it.

So thanks Japan, for keeping our tummies healthy, well, healthier; with fewer preservatives and additives. And lots of homemade food from fresh ingredients in our kitchen which overflows on to our table and into our lives. 

             Sue's Fall Pumpkin/Kabocha Soup

2 cups of water (about 470ml)

1 to 1 1/2 cups of stewed pumpkin or winter squash (in Japan we only have winter squash)

(Plus about 1/4 cup of pieces of cooked, bite-sized pumpkin chunks)

about 1/2 a clove of garlic minced 

about 1/4 a cup of finely chopped onion

1 Tablespoon of fresh cilantro (optional)

1 Tablespoon of fresh parsley (not optional)

2-4 chicken bullion cubes (depending on size and taste) (I have grown to like the Japanese bullion best!)

about 1/4 cup of fresh heavy cream and 1 Tablespoon of flour

Sauté onions in butter then add garlic and sauté a bit more. Add all ingredients except cream and flour. Simmer for about 20 minutes. Stirring often. Whisk fresh cream and flour in a bowl until smooth. Pour into soup. Simmer another 20 minutes stirring often. (Whisk soup a little while simmering to make sure there aren't any lumps.)  Then add the bite-sized pumpkin chunks. Simmer for another 5 minutes or so. Salt and pepper to taste. And enjoy!!

Trash and Treasures

We have been shopping like crazy. And buying like crazy. Even though we stored most of our household items and furniture in our mission storage unit the year we were on home assignment, there was a long list of items we have had to hunt for. A washing machine (because our's broke right before we left). A sofa (because our's was used, and too small and uncomfortable and not worth storing, which also gave us a chance to get something more comfortable). An air conditioner/heating unit (since our new apartment only has 1 and we need one in our bedroom to get through the hot and humid Tokyo summer nights). 

There was also furniture that we bought specifically to fit in our last apartment's galley-sized, only-one-person-at-a-time kitchen that won't fit in our more spacious, but a-bit-oddly-set-up kitchen/dining room in our new place. It feel like such a waist to get rid of a nice quality and gently used cabinet/counter top that we really liked...but it just couldn't be helped. A difficult aspect of our strange life in compact, revolving homes. 

At our last apartment we had measured to the last centimeter to be able to fit our kitchen garbage cans in. And now we are doing the same. Racking our brains how to most discreetly and neatly but practically fit in those needed trash cans. But now since our cabinet/counter won't fit in, we've had to buy a rack/shelf for our oven/microwave. Hmmm, what to do???

What a funny life we lead with cyclical rotations of "How can we make this new place work?" "What to get rid?" "What do we need to add?"  All of this, so we can make our little new home a little more homey and to make our new life a little more livable. But even in these mundane issues that can pile up and tire and stress us, we know God helps.  He knows our needs and so graciously provides...even down to the very last details of oven stands and rubbish bins.

Just a few days. That's all I need.

I love to go on vacation. But I guess everyone does, at least to some extent. Taking even a few days holiday away from reading our ever-full inbox and to disengage from pressing issues and problem-solving helps keep me sane…and on the field. I remember years ago happily planning and writing in our calendar our next vacation as soon as the last one was finished. It may have been months off, but it was something fun to look forward to. And it was something to help keep me going in the rut and routine of daily life and ministry that can sometimes bog me down.

I’ve realized there are 2 times of the year that I am eager to get away. One time is after Christmas and around New Year’s. In church planting, December was a busy time of outreach; all building toward a special Christmas service either on the 23rd or 24th of December, after which I would dutifully collapse. 

 

Another time I feel like I need to get away is in August. In the past we would always take our extended holiday during the kid’s summer break. Maybe it is just engrained in me even as empty nesters. I think another thing is that in August I am ready for a break from the Tokyo heat and even just a tad cooler air, blowing on me from the mountains or sea is just what my tired heart and head need to re-inflate. 

 

Yesterday we were able to sneak away for a 4-day weekend, taking advantage of “Mountain Day” that we would technically have off anyway. We set our automatic replies and happily left emails and obligations behind; navigating the Tokyo traffic and heading to the green rolling hills northwest of us. 30 minutes into our drive, we knew it would take longer than planned with the holiday traffic. We started adding up the pricey tolls and gas costs, even contemplating canceling. But this morning, after a refreshing sunlit walk in the woods, I knew we needed this time. My dad used to say that to really rest you need a change of place, a change of people and a change of pace. So true. 

Even though we are not overseeing this Nagano OMF holiday house anymore (see post here of past adventures) it seems that wherever we are we end up doing something to help clean, declutter or spruce up the place. This time my sweet husband is cutting back encroaching bamboo that threatens to overtake the mini grassy parking spot and the windy, bumpy road up to the house. Bless him!

I’ve already been thinking we need to get our reservations in for one of these comfy, restful spots  to get away for few days at the end of December. Now to decide which one.....Truly, any one would do!

Somehow after just a few days away I know we will be rested enough to tackle the congested drive back and face our commitments, colleagues and computers again. Even the heat won’t be so bad after this restful, cool time away.