Insigts From May 2011 Trips

Smallest Maiya Department Store In Japan

Japan's First temporary gas Station

Someone asked me today how many trips I have made to the disaster zone since the tsunami. I think this is the seventh. But, today, I had a very important "first". I got to distribute some Christian literature.

I am a missionary. Sometimes people see me when I have been planting potatoes or renovating a room or cutting trees, and they wonder. I'm dirty. They don't think I look like a missionary. I think that's funny.

But, there is a not so funny side to it. As I told our current short termer, Paul, the other day, I am about as mystical as a pig in the mud. I like moving; I like doing things with my hands. This has given me opportunities to do practical things for churches and individuals, but I tend to get wound up in the "doing", and fall short on the "being".

As defacto leader of a rather off the cuff team this week, I should be leading our group in prayer in the morning. Often, I forget. I am taken up with getting everyone to work.

There. Now you have the confession.

This morning, I remembered. Perhaps Paul caught my eye (he does think of these things). So, we began the day with a simple prayer.

I do ask others to pray for me. That's very self-centered coming from someone who won't even pray for himself. But there you have it. This week, I asked especially that people would pray for me to have openings to give out Bibles and literature, as well as chairs and tables.

The guys (nephew Micah Ghent, short-termer Paul Van Den Dool, and Mistsuki Okubo, the pastor's son from a nearby church) had worked hard all day assembling table sets while I showed residents of a shelter in Rikuzen Takada how to assemble them for themselves. We regrouped in the afternoon and took 10 sets to the #1 Junior High shelter in the same town. I had 3 other stops to make, but decided to slow down a bit and give God a chance to give me a chance. While the guys tied cushions (donated by a church in Tokyo through a missionary friend) onto the chairs, I talked to Ms. Sakai, the lady from the front desk. We have talked many times over the past month, and she has told me a lot about the shelter, the residents, and their needs- but nothing about herself.

As the conversation ranged over a number of topics, she started to open up. I learned that she has no house, either; she is a shelter resident herself. She is glad the students who use the school in the daytime (some of whom live there with their families at night, too) seem happy, but she knows there are problems. Some carry a heavy burden from the events of the past month.

There is a moment when God says to you, "Be not afraid". How many times have I been suddenly shut out by people when I mention spiritual things? It is hard to have the confidence to speak, hard to believe that this time will be different. But, I had asked for prayer. I had asked for openings. I had even remembered to lead the team in prayer that morning! So, I spoke.

"I have some books in the car. They are illustrated Bible stories about Jesus. I know it's church stuff, but if you think they would be interested…."

"Oh", she said. "Yes, I'd like to see them"

I mentioned the tracts we had for adults, about the questions we have when disaster strikes. She wanted to see them, too.

All of us tied cushions on the chairs very slowly as she sat at her desk reading them. Finally she stood up and asked if we could leave some for people to take if they wished. She looked at the illustrated Bible.

"I have heard some of these stories. I'd like to read this." As she looked up at me, her eyes brimmed over with tears.

"This is really good."

"We want to help take care of bodies, but we want to take care of hearts, too", I said, and she nodded.

When we left, she was showing the tracts to her co-worker.

Please pray on. If someone takes exception to having "religious" stuff in the shelter, it will be returned to us. The lady herself will be embarrassed. Much hangs in the balance. The energetic, "gambaru" (hang in there) spirit of these tough Iwate people covers deep, deep hurts and fears. But, they fear "religion", too. May God's Holy Spirit open these fearful hearts to His Word.

Later, we drove through the indescribable shambles that is all that is left of the bulk of Rikuzen Takada. We managed to find a small church (the only one in town) at the top of a valley formerly cut off by debris, visited with the pastor and his wife, prayed together (at Paul's prompting), dropped a few things off at the shelter I was in earlier in the day, and made a final stop at the Sports Dome.

Workers are going literally day and night to prepare temporary housing. I expected things would be winding down in the Sports Dome shelter. I hadn't been back in a long time, since filling the paltry 3 orders I got there a few weeks ago. I was only going to drop off three tables the office worker asked for. I wasn't even sure he would remember he had asked for them.

Well- he wasn't even there any more! So, I talked to the person I did remember from the last time, and discovered there might be continued interest in the table project. As the Sports Dome is not a school, residents there are last on the list to get into temporary housing. The number of children has increased, as families are moved out of school gyms. We decided he would ask residents if they were interested in assembling sets we would deliver pre-cut.

I thought that was the end of it, and helped Paul put the legs on the third table (we attach the legs on site so we can carry more).

I looked up. The official was back with another man- a Junior High teacher.

"I am from the Kessen Junior High. We don't have a building any more - it was washed away (they use another school buiding). We have no money for a summer craft project for the students. Could you help them make chairs?"

And so it is that I will have opportunity over the next months to work with sixty 14 and 15 year olds, and their teachers. What opportunities will God be able to bring out of that- if I don't hurry on and miss them?

Pray for your "pig-in-the-mud" missionary, that I will remember to "lift my eyes up unto the hills"' to take the long, high view, and remember "where my Help comes from".

As we Brailled our way through the mountains of rubble in Rikuzen Takakda this afternoon, I noticed the GPS map on my dashboard painted the entire area in front of us green. It depicted the famous, pre-tsunami "70,000 pine trees" waterfront area. I remembered something I had seen on the news the day before. I looked off to the right, and sure enough, there it was- 'way off in the distance, at the far end of the naked, brown beach- the one tree remaining of the 70,000- the Hope Tree. Volunteers are working desperately to prop it up, to soak the salt away from it's roots, to save this lone survivor as a symbol of the hope the people of this battered city have that there is still a future for them.

May they find the One True Hope of all mankind.

3/11- it's not over yet.

Not by a long shot.