Happy New Year

Happy New Year!
Love, Ryan, Nelle Caitlin, Ezra, Luna, Vera, Jude

Noel in November?

Well, to be honest, I think the Christmas decorations were already up by the time I posted our October update. Christmas sneaks earlier every year, seems like. 

This month revolved around hospitals, vaccinations, consultations, rehabilitation (although really, “habilitation” seems more apt - he's not really "re" anything), with some mashed potatoes and spiced apple cider, a few pine cones and candles squeezed in between. And suddenly, it’s advent! But, just for a moment, I’ll pause and speak gratitude into a rainy evening.  

- Thank you to each of you who thought of us in the past week with our baby’s most recent hearing check. We’re grateful for the 50 decibels and louder that he can hear, and look forward in hope to his next hearing check at six months. We’re thankful for each of you who sent a quick comment with encouragement and love. Truly, we could not weather these days without our cloud of witnesses. 

- In a season where our church is suddenly without a pastor, we’re so grateful for many wise, creative voices who speak Truth into our community: God is faithful, beyond our controlling fears, God delights in diversity, and spreading out his people throughout the globe; at every moment, God reminds us: your technology, human cooperation, innovation and careful planning will never get you nearer to me. God strains toward humanity with an awesome intensity, while humans gesture limply back. Of all the world’s religions, Christianity is the one where God comes down rather than demanding that humans toil up. 

- We’re grateful for the deep roots of this city. For thanksgiving, we invited neighbors for their first taste of American style thanksgiving food - mashed potatoes served next to rice balls wrapped in seaweed and sweet bean desserts (better double the sugar, the husband said, they’re Americans). These friends pre-date many of the existing roads in our city. Their family goes back, “oh maybe to about the Meiji Era, you know 1870s or so”, on this same land. It’s humbling to be the newcomer, and we will always be foreign. We’re grateful for a small spot in this place with a deep and intricate heritage. 

- We’re grateful for a return to a new kind of normal, which allows our days to take on their rhythms and patterns: bike commutes, laundry, lunch boxes, walking the dog, chatting with neighbors. That friend who watches my three year old so I can sit over a cup of coffee with a friend in a tough season. And who let me watch her two year old so she can sit with a friend in a difficult marriage. 

- I’m grateful for support networks for moms and kids in this community, two in particular, and that I am able to begin attending them again after a long season of bed rest and hospitalization. For the woman who met me in the park with a curiosity about prayer, who also - of course - used to work at the hospital for children with disabilities, where we now go often. Grateful that we ran into each other enough times walking on the river and playing in the park that we just had to become friends. 

- We’re grateful - am I allowed to say this out loud? - to live in a country with an intact social welfare system, where we can rely on our city network to help support our new life with a child with disabilities. Gratitude, not politics. 

- Grateful for the generosity of a sweet relative which allowed us to get away for a few moments, just to sit over a steaming bowl of uninterrupted ramen. 

- And grateful now to begin advent with our kids; watch them anticipate the season, the stories and music; watch them wreak havoc on the decorations - the patient advent cast who travel daily around the house, enacting various plots and scenarios. Thankful they're made of sturdy wood! 

October overview

First walk to the park

Is it just us, or is your fall also so overwhelming, so unavoidably overscheduled? Back in July, August - well, March if I’m honest - we thought this was just a phase, this feeling of being underwater. If we could just make it through this appointment or make it past that event, we would breath easy again. Now, the waves seem to have become our norm. Two sermons carried me through this month.

Birthday campout!

Here are some of the snapshots: getting used to our new son, born missing his hands and feet - who’s doctors evaluated at the highest level of disability Japan registers. Sending my mother back to America after three months of constant help and cheer. School sports festivals. Pastors quitting our church. Celebrating the birthdays of two of our kids - so grateful they have made it to ages 7 and 5 (is she really only just 5?). Sitting with friends as they said goodbye for now to their beloved and only son - just 7 years old - after years of struggling with leukemia; his mother grateful to “hold him all the way home.”  

Sports Day!

So maybe you can see that the verses in Psalm 91 carried all their usual comfort and confusion, presented by a friend in a sermon this month. “Because you have made the Lord your dwelling place. . . . no evil shall be allowed to befall you” (v 9). We struggle alongside our boy of 7, asking why another boy, just his age, had his cells stop growing right and instead grow into life-robbing cancer? To ask with our girls who love babies why this little brother’s hands and feet didn’t grow quite right, even though “fearfully and wonderfully made”? (Psalm 139:14) We look at Jesus. Where else is there left to look? God did not spare his only son, so we too hold ours with open hands. 

Sushi with Grammy!

The second sermon, spoken in another country, by another wise friend, pointed us to Jesus in Mark 6. What parent can’t relate to a moment like this: “Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest (v 31). But even that didn’t work because everyone raced on ahead of them and crowded to their “quiet place” to greet them as they arrived. And then this command, one of my favorite, and also one I find most confusing: “You give them something to eat” (v 37 emphasis mine). Just when I congratulate myself on having remembered to actually bring my own lunch - I won’t be beholden to anyone else; I’ve got myself covered, thank you very much - Jesus says, good, can you also make space for those 5,000 men and their families at your picnic blanket? Thanks. The pastor reminded us, Jesus isn’t so interested in what you have or don’t have. In fact, the less there is of you, the more there is of Jesus.  

Passport photo attempts

We’re never prepared for what comes at us in life. But preparedness isn’t the goal, its rather open handed, honest reliance. The bread will last through each of those 5,000 hungry families. 

Please pray with us for our friends as they adjust back to being a family of five on earth and one in heaven. And for us as we adjust to being a family of six, minus a few fingers and toes. 

Please pray for our community. We’re so grateful for the steady leadership at Christian Academy, seeing the school through a season of growth and transition. And for our church. After one year of ministry, our pastor suddenly decided to move on to other work. We are reeling a bit, but grateful to see that worship continues; the church is the members, and those who continue to invest and attend every week. Please pray for the leadership team as they work to strengthen the vision of the church in the search for a new pastor. 

A certain September

I have to smile looking back at what I wrote last month; feels like looking back at a childhood fear of a two wheeled bike or an elementary school crush. “Our limits teach us the fear of the Lord.” (Wilkin, None Like Him, 25) Oh, little did we know. 

First, he’s here! Our baby boy, our village child - safely carried by an endless stream of prayers, meals, child care and support - arrived one month early on the morning of September 5. He was born at our local hospital, but was transferred (in a massive, terrifying and amazing baby ambulance) soon after birth to the larger hospital. He stayed in the neonatal care unit for a little over two weeks, and came home three days ago. 

We named him Jude Aizen 愛善 (eye-zen). For the doxology at the end of the book of Jude: “To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy— to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.” Aizen because it connects to the Japanese name of our oldest, and the two kanji together mean agape love. (Plus, one of his uncles pointed out that eizen are crampons for ice climbing - see below for the whole new layer of meaning)

We knew this pregnancy was different from the start, and - although we were not prepared for how different he would be - we have begun to process what it will all mean. For reasons we do not yet (and may never) know, Jude was born without fully formed hands or feet. The rest of him (brain and core organs) seems ok, after a first round of testing. It looks something like the effects of amniotic band syndrome, although doctors do not think that is what he has. Doctors also don’t seem to think it had anything to do with the hematoma that I had for most of this pregnancy, although there may be a correlation. 

Although this is all about our new baby, there is lots more going on in our lives and community; students heading out all over Japan for a week of leadership training, Kids Club outreach is reaching a growing number of neighborhood friends, new moms attending moms and kids play time at another neighborhood church. 

Thank you to each of you who have celebrated, grieved and brought food (physical, psychological, metaphorical) to us throughout this entire season. We rest in agape love, and remain confident that our God is able to keep even this boy from falling. Your presence mean so much to us. I will do my best to reply to each of you! 

Aaaaand, August

She's three!

“Our limits teach us the fear of the Lord.” (Wilkin, None Like Him, 25) And what are parenting, teaching, engaging with humanity if not constant reminders of our limits? This season we feel the constant presence of our limitations: the edge of patience, the end of energy, the volatility of nature, and the even more terrifying volatility of powerful leaders, and - let’s be honest - the inability to actually control or shape much of anything. 

Amid the fragility, my mind turns to the wonderful midwives in my life, one of whom has just written a book. She gently moves those who seek to follow Jesus from center stage to come alongside God, as a midwife comes alongside a delivery. “So what if we . . . stopped asking the question, ‘How can we put on a special event to draw people into relationship . . . as an expression of the goodness of God?’ and instead ask, ‘What is God doing in the world to connect people, meet needs and express goodness, and how can we join in?’” (Frost, Rice To Alter Your World, 112). Step out of the spotlight we like to shine on ourselves, observe, hold space for the goodness already thriving around us, then ask how we can get involved. 

Watermelon with friends

While many of our daily routines took a break during August, God’s rhythms, of course, continued. Last week, I followed my kids to the park around the corner, where I banished them after the rolling ball of fists and tears rounded the kitchen floor one too many times. After a long, hot day, I was counting the minutes until Ryan came home, and wasn’t in the mood for conversation. But - of course - a woman I recognized was there, playing with her two year old. So I felt obliged to sit for a moment, to be polite. And of course, she happens to be due with her second child in December, and happens to be going to the same midwife who delivered our girls. And of course, lives across the street from a local church. And did we have any connection to that church? No? But did we have connections to another church? Because she has been thinking, maybe it would be good if she learned how to pray. All my limits, teaching me the fear of the Lord. 

CAJ resumed classes last week, with a former teacher stepping into the HS principal role, plus a new annual theme. Each year the community selects a theme to focus classes, school life and school ministry. This year, a theme Ryan suggested was selected: reaching up, reaching out. With both hands raised to God, its hard to reach out to neighbors, but with both hands out, we quickly reach our limits. Please join us in praying for the CAJ community this year: keep one hand focused up toward God and one hand reaching out to our neighbors, our colleagues, our students, our world. 

Fireworks at our neighbor's picnic!

And, an update on our pregnancy! We feel your daily prayers and support as many of you join us in counting the days. There was a long season in which we never thought this little one would make it this far. We’ve safely reached 35 weeks, which means that the baby can likely be born at a local hospital instead of the larger hospital an hour away - especially helpful because Japanese hospitals require a 5 - 10 day stay after delivery. I’ve been allowed more mobility, which is a huge relief to all of us, although the doctors are still cautious and I don’t have a lot of reserves after more than six months of restricted activity and rest. Many unknowns remain in the upcoming weeks as we navigate our first hospital birth in Japan (the other three were born with local midwives), plus the busy schedules of the three different schools we’re part of (CAJ, Japanese elementary school and Japanese pre-school). 

July news

Dear community, 

Like many of you, July begins a change of pace for us. By the end of July, Japanese school kids begin their dearly anticipated summer holidays, rainy season ends and the hot, muggy, busy summer begins. For families, this change means an intensification of family time, in all its glorious chaos. The local rivers are full of soggy kids, the banks quilted with picnic spreads, and every air conditioned space is filled with damp grateful customers, waving pocket fans. Those who have the space and time escape the city, and any program that can takes a break. This summer, we join the ranks of those who cannot leave, waiting for our baby in close proximity to the hospital and doctors. 

Last week I sat in the park next to our house with a dear friend. We watched our collective five kids race around and hose each other off in the water fountain. Like us, they're here for the summer. She anticipating her third baby five weeks before our fourth. We talked about those dear to us, and realized what summer means for those new to faith, for those for whom the church, the bible study, the gathering is their only place of grace. It is hard to sustain hope, energy, faith in the long hot vacation time. I'm reminded of a comment from a recent read: "God is always present, even in his silence." (Scorsese in Fujimura, 164, Silence and Beauty). 

- Community update Please pray for our community and for Japan during this summer change of pace. There are many opportunities for families to reconnect, but also many difficult times that come from the reconnection or lack of connection. 

- Baby update We're so grateful for continued good reports from the doctors. I've been given permission to move around the house more, and do some more regular daily life. I'm so grateful for the simple enjoyment of sitting in the park to watch my kids play or taking a short walk after six months of less movement. We're particularly mindful of the vast community that facilitated the healing rest that lead us to this point. In the remaining ten weeks, we still have many unknowns (the local hospital can take us if the baby comes within four weeks of the due date, but before that, we would be at the larger government hospital an hour away; the hematoma may re-emerge, leading to growth restriction or early delivery; there may be complications during delivery as a lingering effect of the hematoma). My parents were able to organize their busy lives in the states to facilitate a long visit here, and are proving invaluable in our daily lives (currently feeding ducks at the river while I compose this). 

Quick trip to the fifth station of Mt. Fuji

- Looking ahead We know the days will go so quickly and Ryan starts back to work in mid August. Kids are back at school from September and many programs resume full schedules. We're so grateful for the community we have around us and eagerly look forward to resuming those commitments after the summer holiday. 

June News

Today we said goodbye to dear friends who are moving outside of Japan. Having already moved their large family out of their house, they were crowded into a borrowed apartment for a night before flying out. The tiny apartment was muggy and loud - crowded with grieving, sweaty, hyper kids, weepy moms and loads of final snacks, the men having relocated to a different friend's apartment a few floors above. We kept it short; a quick hug and a few tears. So much goes unspoken, yet understood. See you later. Iiterashai - go and come back. As another friend and I left, I felt the weight of filling in the absence left by this family - so many gathered to be near these sweet humans up to the last moment. But, we commented, saying goodbye felt different for a few of us - we will always have heaven. For some, this family and this home now boxed up and shipped out, was the only taste of Grace and Welcome that some of the farewell party had ever had. For those of us who know Jesus, it's never a final goodbye. Please join us in praying for a smooth transition for this family, to their new home and new country. And for those of us who continue to work here in their absence. 

Working in papa's shop

We're so grateful for so many daily prayers - we're thankful for daily health for each of us, and especially for our new baby, due in October. We had two good appointments this past month, and the doctors are optimistic that the hematoma is healing (see our April letter) and the baby is still growing ok. Our next benchmark is 30 weeks, which is the end of July. At that point, the doctors will make further decisions about the remaining weeks of the pregnancy. Some length of hospitalization is likely, as well as some possible complications, depending on how the next weeks go. After so many months of uncertainty and caution, the reality that we may actually get to welcome and raise this new little one is beginning to sink in and we're starting to feel more hopeful about things turning out ok. But we still have a ways to go!

Splitting wood with a friend

We value each of you who are part of our global community so much and look forward to each email and dialogue. We're humbly grateful for each of you who donated to our gofundme challenge and regular support through JCAA (see the sidebar for more information). The past few months have been unprecedentedly expensive, with at least a few more months of extra expenses to come.