For the last few days I've been sick. It started as a little bit of a
headache and stretched to be a full blown achy-body, snot-factory,
lung-hacking cold. I feel pretty bad, but I am also, admittedly, a big
baby about getting sick. In fact, I am absolutely terrible when I'm
sick.
My friends who have lived with me (God bless
their patience) can probably attest to this. When I am sick I act like a
spoiled child, even more so than when I'm not sick. I refuse to do
anything for myself, I won't even get up from the couch or bed or ground
or wherever I've decided to lay down to perform my normal complain,
moan, complain routine until someone comes along to take care of me.
It's awful, and I don't know how anyone ever put up with it.
If you're churchgoing folk, you can probably already tell where
this is headed, but be patient, I haven't finished the build up yet.
So, most of the time I'm a pretty healthy guy, but when I do get
sick it takes me a long time to get better. Mostly because when I get
sick, even though my body starts to get better and heal, I start feeling
worse and worse and worse. There's no escape once I get sucked into
the maelstrom of depression from sickness. As much as people have
helped me in the past when I got sick by bringing me soup or gatorade or
doing my chores so I can rest or any number of other pleasant things,
no one has ever been able to help me recover. I mean, don't get me
wrong, they help my body get better, but the damage my spirit takes when
I'm sick sometimes feels irreversible when I'm still feeling sick.
Alright, here it comes:
This is why it's so difficult to follow Christ, but also why it isn't.
I'm
not claiming to be a strict Calvinist, I don't know if I could ever
make that claim and that could be the subject of a whole different sort
of blog post, but I do believe in the total depravity of man.
To
some degree, some more than others by way of our choices, we are all
spiritually sick, and one of the hardest things to do when you're sick
is to take care of yourself, or, in this case, to let someone else take
care of you.
I don't think I've made much mention of this
yet, but in the months I was planning and preparing to come to Japan I
was feeling really sick. I mean, I was fighting depression and wading
through some stuff from the last few years that I'd been putting off
confronting, and the whole struggle led me to feel disillusioned a
little, and to be honest, pretty angry at God. I kept asking myself the
same question that everyone else was asking. Why was I going to
Japan? Except for me, the full articulation of this question was more
like, "Why am I doing this thing for a God that I don't even feel like I
know or particularly want to know right now?" Luckily I was raised in a
family that believed that serving God transcends how you feel, so I was
able to base my own answer to my question on optimism that one day I
would want to be close again, and in that day I would be glad to have
stuck through doing what I knew was the right thing to do, regardless of
my feelings. I guess, to a small extent, this feeling could be
classified as faith. But I'm not talking about faith in this post,
because even though it's an important and (at times) difficult concept
to discuss, I've got bigger fish to fry here.
Today I'm talking about grace.
I
mentioned earlier that sickness, and for me the ultimate feeling of
pessimism that comes with it is why it's so difficult to walk with
Christ, but also, why it isn't. It is because in these moments
especially I'm like Paul in that what I would, I do not, but what I
hate, that I do. The problem with relating too much to Paul here is
that sometimes this is where the comparison ends. I don't think about
the fact that there is another spirit, a holy spirit, willing to work
inside me and fight this sinful flesh that I'm trapped inside of. I
don't think about the fact that Jesus still loves and was even willing
to die for such a broken, dirty person. All I see is that which I hate,
I do, and in these moments, at these times, I start to see a broken
(yet all too prevalent) philosophy creep into my thoughts, and even more
damaging, into my feelings:
I start to think that I am the sum of my actions.
What I mean is that I start to think that the definition of who I
am is just the sum of my actions. Therefore, if I walk I am a walker,
if I eat I am an eater, if I sin, I am therefore a sinner. Now, these
things are true to the extent that I have all of those aspects inside of
me, and they make up part of the mosaic that is my person, but there's
also more to me and in these moments of utter weakness I forget what
those other things are. I forget that this mosaic of my person is a
window, not one of those stone mosaics, but a stained glass. I forget
about what I look like when the sun shines through, mostly because I've
distanced myself from that source of light. One of my favorite
metaphors representing Christ came from (of course) C.S. Lewis. He said
that he believed in Christ like the risen sun, not because he could see
it, but because by it he could see everything else. This is how I
often neglect to see myself, especially when I'm sick. I don't want to
see Christ and I don't want to see anything else by his light. I don't
want to know what that mosaic of stained glass looks like when his light
shines through.
This is why grace and love (and how they go hand in hand in an
unbelievably inseparable way) are still the central message of the
gospel to me.
Now, how do I show that, in truth and power, to other people?
How do I affect the people around me so that they can feel this love, so
they can experience the refreshing peace offered by grace? How, in
essence, do I show Christ?
Man, this post took an unexpected turn at the end, but it is a
valid question, and as I close I should mention that I would LOVE any
answers any readers might have to these questions.
Sorry for the length, and if you made it this far, thanks for reading.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
fishes and bread
This week I experienced grace. Again. It's a hard thing to explain to someone what it feels like to feel full of power and potential and to be the strongest you've ever been in your life, but simultaneously feel helpless, weak, so humbled that everything in your life, down to the very crumbs from the piece of toast you eat for breakfast is a blessing, and a gift and not something for you to claim as your own.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I've never been good with money. When I have money I only want to give it away, and when I don't have it, I'm happy enough not to bother getting any. I don't mind living paycheck to paycheck, it's never been a stressful environment for me. However, the past few weeks, maybe the past month, and probably continuing for the next month, I have been living on a budget of less than paycheck to paycheck. I am living from day to day. Some days I wake up and have literally no idea how I will buy food or how to afford transportation to work for that day. I work a lot of hours at night and on weekends, but my paychecks are once a month and come at the end of the month after the month I'm getting paid for, so on Feb 25, I got paid for January's work, on March 25, I'll get paid for February. Because of the current conversion rate for dollars to yen and because of unavoidable one time fees that came up during my first few weeks here I was out of the money that I had raised to come in a much shorter time than I originally anticipated.
Every day I laugh at myself as a slew of you're so poor jokes go across my mind. I'm so poor, no one had to tell me that in Japan people are expected to eat every grain of rice, I have never left a grain of rice uneaten. I'm so poor that even in the snow and rain on days where the temperature hovers around 0 degrees Celcius, I ride my room mate's bike or walk the 4 km each way to work. I'm so poor that I dropped an egg on the ground and scooped it back up with a spoon and cooked it for breakfast because it was the only food I had left. Okay, so those aren't very good jokes, but they make me laugh.
And I think that's the point of today's blog. Well, that and the other thing I'm going to get to in a little bit. The first point, though, being that even though I'm in a less than desirous situation, or at least what would seem one to most people, I can't help but have joy outside of anything I've ever known. I've been here for two months almost. Two months and I can't help but smile every time I see people on the street, I walk home in the literally blistering cold (you should see my hands - disgusting) and by the time I get home my lips are chapped and my cheeks are sore because I was grinning for the last 40 minutes. Even though I don't know how I'll eat next week, I'm so happy because I know that I will eat next week. I'm so happy because I am constantly watching as God works in my life. It's stunning, really.
And there it was, did you see it? The other point of today's blog.
Even though I can't always pay for food, God has fed me. Last time I wrote about the church up the street. I wrote about traveling with them to feed the homeless. What I didn't read about was how they fed me, also. The day I met the people from that church was also the day that I completely ran out of money and food. I had nothing left to eat and no promise of money coming in for quite a while. I only had a little bit of money left on my train pass, but I decided to go with them anyway. The day I went was a bad day. It was cold, it was rainy, and there weren't many homeless people that were willing to go the park on a day like that and sit through a message, even if there was the promise of food. So at the end of the day there was a lot of extra food that was going to get thrown away. Like I said before, I couldn't communicate with anyone, so even if I wanted to, I couldn't have asked for them to give me any food. But the woman I met from the church kept giving me the extra food to take home with me, and I couldn't say no (mostly because I don't know how to still).
I know that this story, that this entry seems strange, maybe it seems irresponsible. I realize what my life looks like to a lot of people. The point isn't how crazy stupid I am, though. The point is how crazy awesome God is. Each day I witness his mercy both in how he provides for me, and through his love for someone as broken as I am. Every day he is teaching me how to love by showing me his incredible love. He's giving me strength through the knowledge of his power. I'm being taught to serve by realizing how little I deserve the things he gives me and experiencing how much he loves those around me. I'm being molded, I can feel it. Some days it hurts, those days I have to suck up my pride and accept the 2000yen offered to me by the pastor of a church across town because otherwise I wouldn't be able to get back home or eat dinner, or every day I have to decline going to dinner on my break at work because I can't afford to eat fast food. Those are the days that I also feel the presence of the Lord the strongest, so I can't help but smile.
It's a hard thing to explain to someone what it feels like to be helpless, weak, so humbled that everything in your life is a blessing, and a gift and not something for you to claim as your own but simultaneously feel full of power and potential and to be the strongest you've ever been in your life.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I've never been good with money. When I have money I only want to give it away, and when I don't have it, I'm happy enough not to bother getting any. I don't mind living paycheck to paycheck, it's never been a stressful environment for me. However, the past few weeks, maybe the past month, and probably continuing for the next month, I have been living on a budget of less than paycheck to paycheck. I am living from day to day. Some days I wake up and have literally no idea how I will buy food or how to afford transportation to work for that day. I work a lot of hours at night and on weekends, but my paychecks are once a month and come at the end of the month after the month I'm getting paid for, so on Feb 25, I got paid for January's work, on March 25, I'll get paid for February. Because of the current conversion rate for dollars to yen and because of unavoidable one time fees that came up during my first few weeks here I was out of the money that I had raised to come in a much shorter time than I originally anticipated.
Every day I laugh at myself as a slew of you're so poor jokes go across my mind. I'm so poor, no one had to tell me that in Japan people are expected to eat every grain of rice, I have never left a grain of rice uneaten. I'm so poor that even in the snow and rain on days where the temperature hovers around 0 degrees Celcius, I ride my room mate's bike or walk the 4 km each way to work. I'm so poor that I dropped an egg on the ground and scooped it back up with a spoon and cooked it for breakfast because it was the only food I had left. Okay, so those aren't very good jokes, but they make me laugh.
And I think that's the point of today's blog. Well, that and the other thing I'm going to get to in a little bit. The first point, though, being that even though I'm in a less than desirous situation, or at least what would seem one to most people, I can't help but have joy outside of anything I've ever known. I've been here for two months almost. Two months and I can't help but smile every time I see people on the street, I walk home in the literally blistering cold (you should see my hands - disgusting) and by the time I get home my lips are chapped and my cheeks are sore because I was grinning for the last 40 minutes. Even though I don't know how I'll eat next week, I'm so happy because I know that I will eat next week. I'm so happy because I am constantly watching as God works in my life. It's stunning, really.
And there it was, did you see it? The other point of today's blog.
Even though I can't always pay for food, God has fed me. Last time I wrote about the church up the street. I wrote about traveling with them to feed the homeless. What I didn't read about was how they fed me, also. The day I met the people from that church was also the day that I completely ran out of money and food. I had nothing left to eat and no promise of money coming in for quite a while. I only had a little bit of money left on my train pass, but I decided to go with them anyway. The day I went was a bad day. It was cold, it was rainy, and there weren't many homeless people that were willing to go the park on a day like that and sit through a message, even if there was the promise of food. So at the end of the day there was a lot of extra food that was going to get thrown away. Like I said before, I couldn't communicate with anyone, so even if I wanted to, I couldn't have asked for them to give me any food. But the woman I met from the church kept giving me the extra food to take home with me, and I couldn't say no (mostly because I don't know how to still).
I know that this story, that this entry seems strange, maybe it seems irresponsible. I realize what my life looks like to a lot of people. The point isn't how crazy stupid I am, though. The point is how crazy awesome God is. Each day I witness his mercy both in how he provides for me, and through his love for someone as broken as I am. Every day he is teaching me how to love by showing me his incredible love. He's giving me strength through the knowledge of his power. I'm being taught to serve by realizing how little I deserve the things he gives me and experiencing how much he loves those around me. I'm being molded, I can feel it. Some days it hurts, those days I have to suck up my pride and accept the 2000yen offered to me by the pastor of a church across town because otherwise I wouldn't be able to get back home or eat dinner, or every day I have to decline going to dinner on my break at work because I can't afford to eat fast food. Those are the days that I also feel the presence of the Lord the strongest, so I can't help but smile.
It's a hard thing to explain to someone what it feels like to be helpless, weak, so humbled that everything in your life is a blessing, and a gift and not something for you to claim as your own but simultaneously feel full of power and potential and to be the strongest you've ever been in your life.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
From homeless to work. I love this day.
I just realized how long it's been since I put an actual update on here. For that, I apologize. I have like 4 drafts that I never published for various reasons, but I'm going to do my best to put this one up, no matter how short it is.
Let me start with a brief analysis of what my day to day looks like, just for the curious.
I started working on January 18th as a full time private instructor for English. I love this job because I have the opportunity to meet so many people, and while the focus of our time is on studying English, the format of the lesson allows me to get to know people and for them to get to know me. I've worked every day, with the exception of an unexpected day off last Friday, since the 18th. I know it sounds strange, but I actually enjoy working every day. Because I'm working so much, though, I've been able to meet around 100 new people in the last few weeks, just through work, and while I'm not able to explicitly express my faith (through strict company rules) almost every new client I have asks the same question: "why do you came to Japan?" or some other variation of mixed up grammar.
I think that this blog entry will be on that question. Why did I come to Japan?
Recently, I was talking to one of my best friends, who's heart has also been incredibly moved for Japan, and we talked briefly on the subjects of love and joy. The conversation actually went like this:
Robert: From homeless (we'll get to that later) to work. I love today.
Robert: Who am I kidding, I love EVERY day.
Friend: You're so Genki* all the time!
Robert: How could I not be!? I feel the favor of the Lord, I feel like I'm walking in his will.
Robert: Do you know what kind of joy that produces?
Friend: Yes.
*Genki is a Japanese word often used to mean energetic or enthusiastic
It's been a strange month (I've been in Japan for 1 month and 3 days now), but I can't shake this joy. Every day on my walk home from work (at like 11 pm) I look around the streets I live on and I can't help but smile. I feel so blessed that God has brought me here, and I have faith (read: hope) that he's already using me in ways I'll never understand.
So, the first answer to the question "why did I come to Japan?" is, simply put, to walk in God's will, and by doing so, to walk in joy. I'm not talking about a small measure of joy here, either, i mean, crazy awesome, peace-bringing, not even earthquakes shake me, joy. I mean, the kind that people not only notice, but notice enough to have to comment on.
I have more to say on this, but it's getting too late to post more about it right now. Because I promised earlier, though, I'll quickly mention what I meant when I said, "from homeless to work".
There's a church that meets down the street from my house. The only church in like 3 square kilometers is a one minute walk from my house. God does amazing things. Anyway, I NEVER see people at this church, probably because I walk past at like 11 pm at night, but last night there just happened to be some lights on and I noticed some people inside, so, like a creepy foreigner I searched for the door so I could knock, but all the doors looked like windows, so I had to just stand outside the window where I saw people moving inside and while I was trying to figure out if i should knock on the window or just go home they noticed me standing there, all creepy like. So, caught off guard a little I sort of waved my hands frantically as if it silently say, "I'm not creepy! I swear!" Somehow, I guess it worked, because after a few seconds I saw this little woman walk away from the window, and a few seconds after that I heard one of the door/windows opening. I went over to the door and the first thing I asked was, "do you speak English?". They did not, and the first thing they asked me was "Kurisutan desu?" which means "Are you a Christian?" Somehow, with my shady Japanese and their less than elementary English (and I believe much assistance from the Holy Spirit) I found out that the church was started by Korean missionaries and that the next day at 12 20 they would be going to a nearby neighborhood to feed the homeless. So, today at 12:20 I walked the one minute walk over to the church and we went to Ueno to feed the homeless before I had to go to work.
I sang a song last week that I haven't thought about since I lived in Memphis and went to Raleigh Christian Church, later named New Hope Christian Church. The song was Step by Step and I had completely forgotten about it, so while I was singing it at church I got so caught up with reminiscing about the days I used to sing that song that I didn't really pay attention to the words, but now I can't get them out of my head.
I will seek you in the morning, and I will learn to walk in your ways. And step by step you'll lead me and I will follow you all of my days.
I'm walking one step at a time right now, so while I can't totally answer the question of why I came to Japan I can say in confidence that this is where I'm supposed to be, and I'm so excited to see what the next step will be.
I feel the blessing of the Lord, and recently I've been reminded of the power of prayer, so thank you for your prayers to this point. I have been blessed. Thank you.
Let me start with a brief analysis of what my day to day looks like, just for the curious.
I started working on January 18th as a full time private instructor for English. I love this job because I have the opportunity to meet so many people, and while the focus of our time is on studying English, the format of the lesson allows me to get to know people and for them to get to know me. I've worked every day, with the exception of an unexpected day off last Friday, since the 18th. I know it sounds strange, but I actually enjoy working every day. Because I'm working so much, though, I've been able to meet around 100 new people in the last few weeks, just through work, and while I'm not able to explicitly express my faith (through strict company rules) almost every new client I have asks the same question: "why do you came to Japan?" or some other variation of mixed up grammar.
I think that this blog entry will be on that question. Why did I come to Japan?
Recently, I was talking to one of my best friends, who's heart has also been incredibly moved for Japan, and we talked briefly on the subjects of love and joy. The conversation actually went like this:
Robert: From homeless (we'll get to that later) to work. I love today.
Robert: Who am I kidding, I love EVERY day.
Friend: You're so Genki* all the time!
Robert: How could I not be!? I feel the favor of the Lord, I feel like I'm walking in his will.
Robert: Do you know what kind of joy that produces?
Friend: Yes.
*Genki is a Japanese word often used to mean energetic or enthusiastic
It's been a strange month (I've been in Japan for 1 month and 3 days now), but I can't shake this joy. Every day on my walk home from work (at like 11 pm) I look around the streets I live on and I can't help but smile. I feel so blessed that God has brought me here, and I have faith (read: hope) that he's already using me in ways I'll never understand.
So, the first answer to the question "why did I come to Japan?" is, simply put, to walk in God's will, and by doing so, to walk in joy. I'm not talking about a small measure of joy here, either, i mean, crazy awesome, peace-bringing, not even earthquakes shake me, joy. I mean, the kind that people not only notice, but notice enough to have to comment on.
I have more to say on this, but it's getting too late to post more about it right now. Because I promised earlier, though, I'll quickly mention what I meant when I said, "from homeless to work".
There's a church that meets down the street from my house. The only church in like 3 square kilometers is a one minute walk from my house. God does amazing things. Anyway, I NEVER see people at this church, probably because I walk past at like 11 pm at night, but last night there just happened to be some lights on and I noticed some people inside, so, like a creepy foreigner I searched for the door so I could knock, but all the doors looked like windows, so I had to just stand outside the window where I saw people moving inside and while I was trying to figure out if i should knock on the window or just go home they noticed me standing there, all creepy like. So, caught off guard a little I sort of waved my hands frantically as if it silently say, "I'm not creepy! I swear!" Somehow, I guess it worked, because after a few seconds I saw this little woman walk away from the window, and a few seconds after that I heard one of the door/windows opening. I went over to the door and the first thing I asked was, "do you speak English?". They did not, and the first thing they asked me was "Kurisutan desu?" which means "Are you a Christian?" Somehow, with my shady Japanese and their less than elementary English (and I believe much assistance from the Holy Spirit) I found out that the church was started by Korean missionaries and that the next day at 12 20 they would be going to a nearby neighborhood to feed the homeless. So, today at 12:20 I walked the one minute walk over to the church and we went to Ueno to feed the homeless before I had to go to work.
I sang a song last week that I haven't thought about since I lived in Memphis and went to Raleigh Christian Church, later named New Hope Christian Church. The song was Step by Step and I had completely forgotten about it, so while I was singing it at church I got so caught up with reminiscing about the days I used to sing that song that I didn't really pay attention to the words, but now I can't get them out of my head.
I will seek you in the morning, and I will learn to walk in your ways. And step by step you'll lead me and I will follow you all of my days.
I'm walking one step at a time right now, so while I can't totally answer the question of why I came to Japan I can say in confidence that this is where I'm supposed to be, and I'm so excited to see what the next step will be.
I feel the blessing of the Lord, and recently I've been reminded of the power of prayer, so thank you for your prayers to this point. I have been blessed. Thank you.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
not an update, more of a promise.
I realized today that I've been in Japan now for a week. I have already been incredibly blessed by the amazing faithfulness of the Lord and there are a few things I will need to make updates about soon:
My trip to Meiji Temple in Yoyogi Park.
My first experience with Mustard Seed.
The way I think I'll be blessed through challenges with my new job.
Hopefully, I'll be able to get to at least two of these topics this weekend.
My trip to Meiji Temple in Yoyogi Park.
My first experience with Mustard Seed.
The way I think I'll be blessed through challenges with my new job.
Hopefully, I'll be able to get to at least two of these topics this weekend.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Sakura House 101, 1-12-8 Kosuge, Katsusika-ku, Tokyo 124-0001
Wow. I'm sorry I haven't been able to get to this before, but I just bought a power converter from the "hyaku en" shop for my laptop today.
Oh, in case you don't know what I'm talking about, let me fill you in:
I'm in Japan.
I started typing out a detailed explanation of everything I've done since I've been here, but decided that there was something else I wanted to talk about instead. If you want more minute details of my life that I'm trying to get used to, I would love to talk to you about it. Skype is probably the best way to reach me (Skype: robert.bolgeo) but here, in this medium, there's something else I want to express.
When I first landed in Japan, I knew that I would have to take the train to get to the head office for the company from whom I'm renting a room. I brought my iPhone with me to use as a wifi device in Japan, so that I would be able to get around and wouldn't get too terribly lost, but that didn't work. For some reason, my phone wouldn't work on the wifi connection in japan, so I was in the airport trying to figure out where I was supposed to go, and maybe, if I'd slept at all the night before, or even on the flight (but I couldn't) I would have been able to better reason, but in the state I was in (in the country I was in) I had a mini panic.
Something I've mostly forgotten about, but remember in times like this, is that when I was a kid, shortly after I moved to Fairview from Memphis, I suffered from minor anxiety issues. I mean, it wasn't anything serious, I was never put on medication for it, but sometimes when I'd go out around large groups of people or sometimes randomly I would have mini anxiety attacks. Sometimes I still feel that way, like, the first time I went to Disney Land, and the first time I went to a concert in LA, but for the most part I'm really easy going about things, and get excited by the prospect of doing something new. Still, the fact remains that I can be overtaken by anxiety at times, and its something I've spent a lot of time and prayer dealing with so I know a little better how to handle it now. I was on the verge when I wasn't sure how I would get from the airport to my new home, but, at the same time, I felt like everything was okay.
Something I read today: "The Spirit of glory and of God rests on you"
When I read this I thought about how much that Spirit weighs, I thought about, so to speak, the weight of glory (which I shouldn't reference seeing as though I haven't read that book yet). Thinking now, about my near anxiety attack in the airport I can't help but remember that weird weight of the counter-anxiety, that feeling that everything was okay that was as foreign to me as I was to this country. So when I stumbled across this phrase in my reading I couldn't shake it. Only now, I'm thinking about what this means moving forward. What does this mean as I try and make an impact here?
Something else I read today: Foundation and salvation
Already, I've gone through so many things here that maybe I should be freaking out about, but I feel the sturdiness of my foundation (which is Jesus Christ) and the strength of what has been built on it (which would be the prayers and support of friends and family). I think in the next few weeks I'm going to see some of the fire that refines. I hope that when it comes I'm not too stubborn, or ignorant, or lazy to see what it burns and seek to repair it properly.
Before I close out this entry I want to write down a thought I had shortly after leaving the airport. After my almost-anxiety in the airport, I decided to take whatever train was going towards the city I knew I had to get to in order to pick up my keys. I was so excited to take my first train ride in Japan, I almost didn't care if it got me where I was supposed to go or not. However, by the time I got on the train, it was already dark outside, or at least, it was getting darker. The trains are lit inside, though, and they stay pretty bright, so the darker it gets outside the brighter the inside seems to get, until you almost can't see outside anymore because the light reflects the inside of the train, making windows more like mirrors. There are two things I thought about this.
First, I want to be like the train that is so bright on the inside that the darkness outside is nearly invisible. I don't have much to say about this, except I'm afraid I'll never have the sort of illumination necessary. I'm afraid I'll try to hold on to some of that darkness out of a perverse sense of self-preservation, making the light seem dimmer.
Second, as I looked at the window turned mirror I thought about how strange it was to be looking out towards Japan but to only be able to see myself. I was so clearly superimposed over all the buildings that it was as though they barely existed. So I thought about all the ways I've already been doing that. How have I been taking Japan away and putting myself in its place? The answers are humiliating; humbling. I don't remember if I've mentioned this story before, but even if I have, this seems like a good spot to reiterate it (and I'm not too worried about redundancy): When I was an orientation leader for Biola some of us took a spiritual retreat in order to prepare ourselves for the new students and in order to center ourselves before we had to give so much in service. While we were there we met with a student from the Institute of Spiritual Formation who taught us an interesting way to pray. She taught us about the idea of mantras. The idea is to create a name for God, one that has a lot of meaning to you, then to express a need. My mantra is something I've been trying to live ever since the moment I made it that day. Sometimes I'll go a while without saying it, but I don't think I'll ever forget it, because I don't think I'll ever stop needing it:
"Good Father, teach me to serve."
That's been my ardent prayer since I arrived. I came here to serve, but sometimes I don't know how to do that. Sometimes I can't look past my face in the mirror long enough to realize that it wasn't a mirror at all but a window; a window looking out on people who need to feel the Spirit of glory and of God rest, people who need foundations and building materials, people who need to be served.
So pray with me.
Oh, in case you don't know what I'm talking about, let me fill you in:
I'm in Japan.
I started typing out a detailed explanation of everything I've done since I've been here, but decided that there was something else I wanted to talk about instead. If you want more minute details of my life that I'm trying to get used to, I would love to talk to you about it. Skype is probably the best way to reach me (Skype: robert.bolgeo) but here, in this medium, there's something else I want to express.
When I first landed in Japan, I knew that I would have to take the train to get to the head office for the company from whom I'm renting a room. I brought my iPhone with me to use as a wifi device in Japan, so that I would be able to get around and wouldn't get too terribly lost, but that didn't work. For some reason, my phone wouldn't work on the wifi connection in japan, so I was in the airport trying to figure out where I was supposed to go, and maybe, if I'd slept at all the night before, or even on the flight (but I couldn't) I would have been able to better reason, but in the state I was in (in the country I was in) I had a mini panic.
Something I've mostly forgotten about, but remember in times like this, is that when I was a kid, shortly after I moved to Fairview from Memphis, I suffered from minor anxiety issues. I mean, it wasn't anything serious, I was never put on medication for it, but sometimes when I'd go out around large groups of people or sometimes randomly I would have mini anxiety attacks. Sometimes I still feel that way, like, the first time I went to Disney Land, and the first time I went to a concert in LA, but for the most part I'm really easy going about things, and get excited by the prospect of doing something new. Still, the fact remains that I can be overtaken by anxiety at times, and its something I've spent a lot of time and prayer dealing with so I know a little better how to handle it now. I was on the verge when I wasn't sure how I would get from the airport to my new home, but, at the same time, I felt like everything was okay.
Something I read today: "The Spirit of glory and of God rests on you"
When I read this I thought about how much that Spirit weighs, I thought about, so to speak, the weight of glory (which I shouldn't reference seeing as though I haven't read that book yet). Thinking now, about my near anxiety attack in the airport I can't help but remember that weird weight of the counter-anxiety, that feeling that everything was okay that was as foreign to me as I was to this country. So when I stumbled across this phrase in my reading I couldn't shake it. Only now, I'm thinking about what this means moving forward. What does this mean as I try and make an impact here?
Something else I read today: Foundation and salvation
Already, I've gone through so many things here that maybe I should be freaking out about, but I feel the sturdiness of my foundation (which is Jesus Christ) and the strength of what has been built on it (which would be the prayers and support of friends and family). I think in the next few weeks I'm going to see some of the fire that refines. I hope that when it comes I'm not too stubborn, or ignorant, or lazy to see what it burns and seek to repair it properly.
Before I close out this entry I want to write down a thought I had shortly after leaving the airport. After my almost-anxiety in the airport, I decided to take whatever train was going towards the city I knew I had to get to in order to pick up my keys. I was so excited to take my first train ride in Japan, I almost didn't care if it got me where I was supposed to go or not. However, by the time I got on the train, it was already dark outside, or at least, it was getting darker. The trains are lit inside, though, and they stay pretty bright, so the darker it gets outside the brighter the inside seems to get, until you almost can't see outside anymore because the light reflects the inside of the train, making windows more like mirrors. There are two things I thought about this.
First, I want to be like the train that is so bright on the inside that the darkness outside is nearly invisible. I don't have much to say about this, except I'm afraid I'll never have the sort of illumination necessary. I'm afraid I'll try to hold on to some of that darkness out of a perverse sense of self-preservation, making the light seem dimmer.
Second, as I looked at the window turned mirror I thought about how strange it was to be looking out towards Japan but to only be able to see myself. I was so clearly superimposed over all the buildings that it was as though they barely existed. So I thought about all the ways I've already been doing that. How have I been taking Japan away and putting myself in its place? The answers are humiliating; humbling. I don't remember if I've mentioned this story before, but even if I have, this seems like a good spot to reiterate it (and I'm not too worried about redundancy): When I was an orientation leader for Biola some of us took a spiritual retreat in order to prepare ourselves for the new students and in order to center ourselves before we had to give so much in service. While we were there we met with a student from the Institute of Spiritual Formation who taught us an interesting way to pray. She taught us about the idea of mantras. The idea is to create a name for God, one that has a lot of meaning to you, then to express a need. My mantra is something I've been trying to live ever since the moment I made it that day. Sometimes I'll go a while without saying it, but I don't think I'll ever forget it, because I don't think I'll ever stop needing it:
"Good Father, teach me to serve."
That's been my ardent prayer since I arrived. I came here to serve, but sometimes I don't know how to do that. Sometimes I can't look past my face in the mirror long enough to realize that it wasn't a mirror at all but a window; a window looking out on people who need to feel the Spirit of glory and of God rest, people who need foundations and building materials, people who need to be served.
So pray with me.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Jump on 3. 1... 2..
I am less than a week away from leaving my family and my home in Tennessee to begin the first leg of my trip to Tokyo. It is normally my habit to spend a lot of time thinking about the things I'm going to write before I post them here, but I don't feel like I can do that this time. I've been struggling to update because for the last month I've been trying to avoid the thoughts necessary to produce something that even passes as coherent work.
I've been bungee jumping once in my life. I love the memory and I loved the reasons I had to do it (it's a fun story and I can tell anyone who wants to know about it), but actually doing the thing is a different beast entirely. It was one of those crane style bungee jumps, so I had to climb a ton of stairs to get to the top, and I remember nearly running up the first 4 or 5 flights because I was so excited to jump, but as I started getting higher, closer to the end of the stairs, I started feeling a little more heavy, a little less anxious to get to the top and a little more to get back to the bottom. At the first step of the last flight of stairs the real doubts started coming; I kept seeing images of cords splitting, of knots slipping, I couldn't help but imagine the ground rushing towards me and not being able to stop. At a certain point I had to pretty much turn my brain off and use my eyes as cameras, nothing more than tools to record a memory that I could hold onto later, because if I tried to interpret what I was seeing myself do I wouldn't have been able to do it.
Obviously, bungee jumping is not something that is directly correspondent to moving to Japan, while I have similar feelings and I'm coping with fear in a similar way, they are very different things and the fears I have about moving to Japan are very different from the ones I had about free falling from the top of a metal crane. There are a lot of things to be afraid of, from a more outside perspective:
I've never truly lived alone before, and in Japan I will very much be alone. The house I'm renting a room in has space for other tenants, but there's no telling when people will live with me or for how long. What kind of dangers are there in living independently?
I don't know Japanese. I've been learning, but I'm pretty sure my eighteen month old nephew speaks better than I can in Japanese (and he's just now saying "bye-bye" consistently). Languages are hard to learn, especially if they are as different as Japanese from English.
I don't know what my diet will look like. I don't know what kinds of foods will be available or how expensive food is. I mean, I have an idea, but it's hard to realize this sort of thing until it's happening or has happened.
I've never taught English before. What if I can't hack it? What if I'm a bad teacher?
Even if I recognize these things as real, though, they don't really scare me. What really scares me is the ever present, most daunting fear of all:
What if I'm not good enough for this?
What I mean is, what if I'm not right for this? What if I'm not supposed to do this? What if I'm wrong about all of this? What if I'm a disappointment? What if God doesn't want to use me the way I want him to?
These fears are the hardest to combat, these can't be settled with planning, with reasoning or through any other natural mental or emotional process. These are the sort of spiritual questions that have to be dealt with in an unnatural manner. I've never really understood why Jacob had to wrestle an Angel at Peniel, but I've also never really had to question it. Please understand here that I believe that God is searchable and that discernment is important in faith. I don't mean that I've never questioned why Jacob had to wrestle an angel, I mean that I've never questioned it's necessity. I know that may seem like a strange and somewhat paradoxical thought process, that is, to be clueless and understanding simultaneously, but that is, I think, the only possible state when it comes to most things, but especially when it comes to theology. It's finding the right balance of the two sides that becomes the biggest struggle, though, and right now I'm on the more helpless side of that stick.
I'm at the last flight of stairs now. I've had enough reason, enough confirmation, encouragement, reassurances to make it this far. I'm to the point where all I can see is the cord breaking, no matter how irrational the thought is. I know it won't, but. But what if it does?
I used to have this sort of mantra when I was younger and cared much less about rationale. I used to say it to myself for practice, just to remember it, whether I needed to hear it or not: "If you're afraid to do a thing; eff it. Do it anyway." Later, to sort of hone in on what I was really getting at with that mantra I started reciting 2 Timothy 1:7. Power/Strength, Love and Sound Mind/Self Control are the ingredients for courage, the thing I fear I lack the most, and so wrestle for the most ardently.
Right now I'm running on the fumes from all of the events of the past year that have led up to what's happening in the next week combined with a steady stream of reminding myself of the spirit God has given me. I know it's enough to get to the top of the stairs, and enough that I'll be able to jump off, eyes open, watching the pavement rush to meet me only to gently bounce back up and safely disengage, fear subsided.
I just wish that I could close my eyes and imagine that cord without it snapping under pressure. So pray for me!
I've been bungee jumping once in my life. I love the memory and I loved the reasons I had to do it (it's a fun story and I can tell anyone who wants to know about it), but actually doing the thing is a different beast entirely. It was one of those crane style bungee jumps, so I had to climb a ton of stairs to get to the top, and I remember nearly running up the first 4 or 5 flights because I was so excited to jump, but as I started getting higher, closer to the end of the stairs, I started feeling a little more heavy, a little less anxious to get to the top and a little more to get back to the bottom. At the first step of the last flight of stairs the real doubts started coming; I kept seeing images of cords splitting, of knots slipping, I couldn't help but imagine the ground rushing towards me and not being able to stop. At a certain point I had to pretty much turn my brain off and use my eyes as cameras, nothing more than tools to record a memory that I could hold onto later, because if I tried to interpret what I was seeing myself do I wouldn't have been able to do it.
Obviously, bungee jumping is not something that is directly correspondent to moving to Japan, while I have similar feelings and I'm coping with fear in a similar way, they are very different things and the fears I have about moving to Japan are very different from the ones I had about free falling from the top of a metal crane. There are a lot of things to be afraid of, from a more outside perspective:
I've never truly lived alone before, and in Japan I will very much be alone. The house I'm renting a room in has space for other tenants, but there's no telling when people will live with me or for how long. What kind of dangers are there in living independently?
I don't know Japanese. I've been learning, but I'm pretty sure my eighteen month old nephew speaks better than I can in Japanese (and he's just now saying "bye-bye" consistently). Languages are hard to learn, especially if they are as different as Japanese from English.
I don't know what my diet will look like. I don't know what kinds of foods will be available or how expensive food is. I mean, I have an idea, but it's hard to realize this sort of thing until it's happening or has happened.
I've never taught English before. What if I can't hack it? What if I'm a bad teacher?
Even if I recognize these things as real, though, they don't really scare me. What really scares me is the ever present, most daunting fear of all:
What if I'm not good enough for this?
What I mean is, what if I'm not right for this? What if I'm not supposed to do this? What if I'm wrong about all of this? What if I'm a disappointment? What if God doesn't want to use me the way I want him to?
These fears are the hardest to combat, these can't be settled with planning, with reasoning or through any other natural mental or emotional process. These are the sort of spiritual questions that have to be dealt with in an unnatural manner. I've never really understood why Jacob had to wrestle an Angel at Peniel, but I've also never really had to question it. Please understand here that I believe that God is searchable and that discernment is important in faith. I don't mean that I've never questioned why Jacob had to wrestle an angel, I mean that I've never questioned it's necessity. I know that may seem like a strange and somewhat paradoxical thought process, that is, to be clueless and understanding simultaneously, but that is, I think, the only possible state when it comes to most things, but especially when it comes to theology. It's finding the right balance of the two sides that becomes the biggest struggle, though, and right now I'm on the more helpless side of that stick.
I'm at the last flight of stairs now. I've had enough reason, enough confirmation, encouragement, reassurances to make it this far. I'm to the point where all I can see is the cord breaking, no matter how irrational the thought is. I know it won't, but. But what if it does?
I used to have this sort of mantra when I was younger and cared much less about rationale. I used to say it to myself for practice, just to remember it, whether I needed to hear it or not: "If you're afraid to do a thing; eff it. Do it anyway." Later, to sort of hone in on what I was really getting at with that mantra I started reciting 2 Timothy 1:7. Power/Strength, Love and Sound Mind/Self Control are the ingredients for courage, the thing I fear I lack the most, and so wrestle for the most ardently.
Right now I'm running on the fumes from all of the events of the past year that have led up to what's happening in the next week combined with a steady stream of reminding myself of the spirit God has given me. I know it's enough to get to the top of the stairs, and enough that I'll be able to jump off, eyes open, watching the pavement rush to meet me only to gently bounce back up and safely disengage, fear subsided.
I just wish that I could close my eyes and imagine that cord without it snapping under pressure. So pray for me!
Monday, October 31, 2011
A (Not so) Brief Update
It's been a while since I've updated. I've been meaning to, seeing as though there have been several reasons for updating both in regards to my upcoming journey and in regards to my continuing journey (that's a euphemism for life(or maybe a dysphemism, depending on how you look at journeys.)) In any case, I'll start with how things are going with Japan, and in order to get the story straight I'll start at the beginning:
About a year ago I contacted an organization that goes by the name of ITPS about travelling to Japan with their help. My understanding at the time was that they would be in communication with schools, churches and the immigration bureau, working in my favor so that when the time came for me to leave I would have a job, a ministry and a visa. I must give pause here because I don't want anyone reading to think that I am displeased with ITPS, on the contrary, I am more disappointed in myself. It seems that I had fallen prey to the zeitgeist of my generation, something that I've talked to my older friends about on several occasions, and something I've done my best to fight, which is an enormous sense of entitlement. I felt as though the steps to leaving the country should all have been taken for me, while I just waited for it to happen. In the last six months, though, I realized that ITPS wasn't an organization that would take all the steps for me, but one that would walk alongside me as I took those steps myself. They have been diligently praying for me, helping me gather and keep support and have supplied me with resources to learn about Japan, Japanese culture, missions and christian discipline and spirituality. While I haven't used these resources to the extent of their full potential still, I have appreciated very much their accessibility.
In lieu of the staff at ITPS finding me a job in Japan I began to look for one for myself. I searched for two or three months, and applied to fifteen or twenty different positions all over the country before I finally heard back from one company, the Gaba Corporation. After extensive research into the company, the locations of their learning studios, and the nature of their employment (as well as much prayer into the situation) I decided to take a job with them. The job I took is in northern Tokyo, though there is still the option to transfer to Osaka after a few months. Since taking a job with Gaba, I have been contacting churches and ministries in the area near to where I'll most probably be living. This has been the most blessed, or blessing part of the whole endeavor. I have been finding contacts in the most unlikely places. It seems that all of my friends have friends with friends or family who are working in a ministry or who have worked in a ministry in Japan, and they all have information and encouraging words for me. I've met people at weddings, in restaurants and churches, and there's people I've never met at all, but have been in contact with via facebook or skype.
Right now I'm about two months out from leaving for Japan. I visited the Japanese Consulate here in Nashville in order to receive my entrance visa, meaning that I have 90 days from today to get myself out of the US and into Japan. My job as an English instructor starts on January 6, and I've been in communication with an apartment building to reserve a (super-cheap) dormitory-style apartment for a year. My contract with Gaba is for one year and so is my visa, however I'm open to where God will lead me after this first year.
I appreciate all of the support that everyone has given me, both monetarily and through prayer and encouragement. This period of waiting and wondering has been trying, but I can already see, even in the midst of it, how necessary this time was. In the last few months I have wrestled with things that I should have been dealing with for a long time. I have prayed in earnest, and while I am still struggling, I can see so much clearer God's plans for me and my life. I have, for the first time in a long time, a sense of clarity and throughout the last few months (especially the last few weeks) I have had to come to a realization of my worth in Christ. I've had to think of myself (and the people around me) in terms of ontology instead of in terms of function (thank you Dr. Thoennes!) These are things I wouldn't have been ready to deal with outside of this special, trying time of waiting. Thank you again, for everyone who has prayed for me. I have been humbled by your love.
This post is already waxing prolix, so I'll end it there. Thank you for travelling with me, and as always thank you for praying for me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)