just thought i would take an email break before we head off to evening service. tonight is the final game of
the america cup, so all of the soccer fans will be filling the streets with firecrackers, yells, and all of the other
hoopla that surrounds this sport. it is like superbowl sunday, except its soccer. because of the game, our
service is going to be cut short, so it makes preparation all
the more easy.
other than that, i am doing okay. i am sick because ken was
kind enough to share his cough. i was trying to
fight it off, but i guess my body was too tired. yesterday was
freezing again. . . almost as cold as english
camp in brazil, but this time with a thick fog that would not
lift. it was foggy all day, so we shivered our
way through vbs, picking up the kids in the pickup truck, doing
visitations, and going through everything.
ken was sick, so we had to pick up some of his responsibilities, and pray extra hard for good japanese
translators. we went to do a visitation in the morning after breakfast, and i was very moved by the testimony
of the woman we met. she has been bedridden for six years, and the stench of her room was almost too
overwhelming for some of us who had not completely digested breakfast. it was freezing in her room, so she
had a small hibachi stove next to her bed, resting on a mat of old yellowed newspapers. it reminded me of
grandpa, the small frame barely showing underneath the mountain of blankets, and the little head poking just
above the covers. she spoke only japanese, so once more i felt incapable of communicating with her, except
through my smiles and touch on her leg. we sang a very pathetic version of i love you lord in japanese, and
after that we waited to pray for her. when we asked what we could pray for, she asked us to pray that she
would die. i started crying at her bedside, in awe of the struggle she had endured daily for six years. i have
never seen a room that looked more isolated and removed from the outside world. the walls were cracked
and peeling, the room was dark and dank, her whole surroundings seemed to be encouraging her onward to
heaven. . . earth seemed to have depleted its supply of beauty and life, and she was left to wait. she told us
that her prayer was to keep her heart from rotting inside of her degenerating body. almost all of her muscles
are now paralyzed and she apologized for the smell her body produced. it was quite moving, and all i could
do was pray and touch her. . . remembering grandpa and the helplessness i had felt with him as well. i
thought of the psalm, let everything that have breath praise the lord. and she was faithful, praying that
despite the dreariness of life, that she could find one thing to praise God for each day. and, for that one day,
i hope we were a blessing. . . to pray for her, touch her, love her, and remind her that God and His love
transcend what initially pushes us away from such individuals. . . the dying, the sick, those the world has
already cast aside. it was very powerful.
other than that, we are gradually making ourselves at home.
i am constantly teased for my email popularity, first in japanese,
the portugese, and finally into the spanish i understand. my
japanese is still lacking, though i try to elicit a few chuckles
from the yoshizakis when i make a few brave attempts.
vbs has been hectic and fun, teaching and translating in
spanish, blanking out, and then coming back in portugese. the
kids are amazing, simultaneously translating and switching between
four languages. . . smarter than any of us on the jems team. i
have been having fun playing with them, sitting in the back of
pickup trucks with them, freezing with them, and ministering to
them. there are so many stories in their lives, every one of
them has experienced some kind of a hardship. . . losing a father,
boyfriend, or friend to the crime that runs rampant in the poverty
of pedro juan caballero.
it is weird adjusting to this kind of a lifestyle, very laid back, very simplified, and very slow. we drive
through town, and the shopkeepers just sit outside of their shops, opening them up from the afternoon
siesta. i wonder if they ever get bored, tending to their shops, going through their daily routines, and sitting
on the porch. it has been disconcerting walking through town without sadato to escort me, or without the
other jems guys. a lot of the men whistle, or try to pick up on some of us. men are really agressive here, and
the women are very much viewed as objects or trophies to be won. i have encountered a lot of that in the
subways of brazil or the streets of paraguay. . . i do not appreciate the airs of machismo that have been
accentuated by japanese culture, but it has been a new experience, that has taught me to be more cautious
and aware.
living with the team has been an experience. . . robbing me of all modesty and shyness, as i have come to
regard them as my new brothers and sisters. doing laundry together, comparing underwear, taking turns
using the bathroom for various reasons. . . the walls have come down. i am still grateful for their easy going
natures, for their flexibility, and their team mentality. we have all had a lot of fun working together and
supporting each other through each of these experiences.
thanks for your prayers. . . please pray for my health as i
am feeling a little under the weather and the cold weather is
making it difficult to feel better.
the girls have come to play with me, so i should go now.
miss you and love you all,