Yesterday we had the most amazing experience of worshipping at the feet of the world’s largest bronze statue of Buddha in the largest wooden structure in the world…. But we were worshipping the living God, and doing it in great style at that!

Our visionary Gospel singer friend, Jaye Koyama was invited to do a Gospel concert on the very same stage shared by this most famous Buddha.  Jaye is a dynamic believer with a heart for reaching the disabled and nonbelievers through the power of music.  (Photo last year with Olivia).  He and his wife and two sons were all baptized at our church.  Some of you may remember that Owen was his biggest fan, and at the age of two he knew all of Jaye’s songs by heart!

We are still very much in awe that the whole event happened.  Jaye had several choirs join him, including the Gospel choir from Imani, Kentucky that we have helped to host in Sanda for several years past (see last year’s blog entry here).  The combined voices and energy and prayers rocked the temple – I’ll tell you what!  We were sort of hoping that the big Buddha would just crumble to the ground right then and there…

There was so much passion and joy that I felt the power of the Spirit fill this place as it has never been filled before…Here is a short video clip.  We were all standing close together on a very hot day, but it did not prevent us or our children from praising Jesus!

As I stood there with Ian strapped into a front pack and both of us just dripping in sweat, I made myself stop worshipping and thought: Do I really believe that I am serving the LIVING God?  and that He really is right HERE in this place?   and that this huge Buddha who millions of Japanese have worshipped at this place for 1300 years is an instrument of Satan’s meant to deceive?  These were important questions… because they make a difference in what I do daily;  in the very vocation to which God has called me.  As I participated in this event, I realized it is only historic if I completely believe in the God who came to save;  quite different from the cold, relentless stares of the various gold and bronze gods scattered throughout this hall.

Yes!  My God is alive!  My God is might to save!  My God is a Redeemer of any and all who call out to him.  Twice during the forty-five minute concert God’s spirit just erupted through me and I stood weeping for the God who saved me;  and weeping as God shared with me His heart’s desire to save the people of this country.  Truly – the eyes of the Japanese have been blinded and deceived by lies…

Habakkuk 2:18:  Of what value is an idol, since a man has carved it?
Or an image that teaches lies?
For he who makes it trusts in his own creation;
he makes idols that cannot speak.

I love the truths of Zephaniah 3:17:  “The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”

Beyond the voices of the amazing gospel singers;  above the din of the hundreds of sweaty, exhuberant worshippers down below; surrounding the speechless idols is a rejoicing God; desiring to renew us each; absolutely mighty to save all.  Amazing day.  Amazing God.

We are preparing to come back to Japan in a few days with many mixed emotions– how can it be otherwise?  Tonight Owen was listing all the places we could go upon our return;  the friends we will be able to meet again;  the Japanese food we can once again enjoy.  But there are always tears, as it means once again parting from loved ones.  Those who know me or have read my blog consistently know that this is the most difficult challenge for me in being a missionary…

We have truly loved the care, hospitality, and encouragement that we have received through our visits with friends and family.  And the interest in our ministry in Japan!  Now that we have had a chance to show our 2010 Takamoto DVD to various churches and friends this summer, we wanted to make it available for any of you who would like to watch it.  It is just under five minutes, and shares some of the things we are excited about even in returning to Sanda in a few days.  Please pray as we prepare to return, for our three connecting flights to get there (my special request is that they will give Ian a seat on the international flight and not need to be on our laps the whole time);  for all six of us as we adjust back and help the older three children, especially, prepare again for Japanese school which will begin shortly.  Thanks.  For sure, for sure, we are confident that the God of Sanda is waiting to continue His wonderful work there.  And we are so thankful that he is willing to use us to help accomplish that.

This morning I woke up with a sigh as I thought about our busy day ahead.  Preaching at a church we have never been to before (is our message going to be OK?  how will our kids be at yet another church/new sunday school?)… then a family BBQ with Eric’s relatives right after church… followed by a BBQ/Fourth of July fireworks party at friends near the beach.  (How will the kids/especially Ian do with no down time?)  I had a few minutes before I had to get the last two children up, so I decided to have a quiet time while eating breakfast.

There was an old hymn written in the section of my bible study book that I hadn’t sung in a long time:  “I love to tell the story…”  And the words just gripped my heart.  I realized what a double privilege it is we have:  1) to have a paid JOB to tell people about “Jesus and his power; and Jesus and his love…”  and 2) that it’s also part of our job to get to tell people here about the realities and joys of telling people in Japan.  And in sharing that story we can (hopefully) get people fired up about Jesus and telling His story.

I copied the first verse of the hymn into the front of my Bible.  I knew that God was using  it today to remind me of the privilege of our job… even if we were nervous about sharing at a new church– wow!  We are getting to do something I am truly excited about — telling that story.  Part of me wondered if I should weave this hymn into our message.

We got to the church… got three out of four kids happily settled into sunday school (ok- so one crying child out of four isn’t bad)…I went up to the front of the church to join Eric… and opened the church bulletin.  The hymn we were singing before we were to speak?  Yes – I Love to Tell the Story…  The tears started rolling, as I thought about the sweetness of our Lord.  A hymn I haven’t sung or thought about in a long time… and God brings up twice in two hours on the same morning.  Makes me even more want to tell that story….We LOVED this church;  we both loved sharing so much.  We loved telling that story.  (And the kids thankfully did fine all the way through eleven o’clock tonight).  Here are the first and last verses.

I love to tell the story of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory, of Jesus and His love;
I love to tell the story, because I know ’tis true,
It satisfies my longings as nothing else would do.

• Refrain:
  I love to tell the story,
  ’Twill be my theme in glory,
  To tell the old, old story
  Of Jesus and His love.

I love to tell the story, for those who know it best
Seem hungering and thirsting to hear it like the rest;
And when in scenes of glory I sing the new, new song,
’Twill be the old, old story that I have loved so long.

I hate leaving places.  Or, more correctly, I hate leaving people.

I have so loved teaching my neighborhood ladies’ English class the past three years!  Our co-worker Mary has been teaching an advanced class at the same time I teach the beginning in our home, so it was been really special to co-minister together.  This past Thursday we had a potluck party/baby shower for one of the women expecting soon.  It was also my last class before we leave for the summer, so it was a goodbye of sorts, as well.

As we sat around the table enjoying lots of great Japanese dishes, I got teary-eyed.  We are only going to be in the U.S. for 2 and a 1/2 months, but it still feels hard to say goodbye to these dear friends.  God has been working in the hearts of these women.  And they have become special friends to me.  Every week after the English conversation lesson,  we have an extended “tea time” and often include an informal chapel, which is usually sharing about what God has been in doing in our midst.  One of the women in the class, E., said that every week she feels God’s presence.  We have all sensed the Lord’s work in these ladies’ lives.

We blessed our friend N. with a little shower — she is expecting her third in September.  Her oldest son is Owen’s closest friend, so it has been fun to encourage her as she prepares for another.  Japanese do not usually do baby showers, so it was fun to help teach them what we do at one!  We chipped in and gave her a few baby gifts….

I made some simple baby cupcakes with “candy” pacifiers…

Our special friend Shirley in Okinawa sent us a care package recently, and hearing about this baby shower she sent a big bag of confectioner’s sugar (it’s really expensive for small bags here); and some Noah’s Ark paper napkins and plates.  The ladies LOVED these — more than the cupcakes I think!

What was so hilarious was that none of the ladies wanted to “waste” their paper plate by having the cupcake put on it.  So we had to get real plates for the cupcakes;  all ten ladies took their plates and napkins home clean!  (Thanks again, Shirley- they were a great hit!).

I love these ladies!  I will miss sharing life with them each week….

Yesterday, our friends the K. family called to see if they could drop by to say goodbye (we are leaving in four days, during the middle of the school week).   We have really enjoyed getting to know the extended K. family over the past year.  Mrs. K, her sister, and her two daughters brought some wonderful airplane-travel gifts for all four of our  kids, and stayed to have brownies and lemonade.  Chi. is also expecting– any minute!   We are excited for Ian to have a little buddy.   We thought she would have delivered by now (and really want to meet this little one before we leave).  Her oldest daughter Y. is Owen’s “special friend” – they have been close friends for four years and have a special friendship.  Here they are sitting a bit awkwardly for the photo…

Her second daughter, H., is a friend of Annie’s and Olivia’s:

Before they left, I asked Chi. if I could pray for her and her baby.  As I laid my hands upon her womb and prayed for safe delivery and for God’s hand to be upon they little one’s life, we all got misty-eyed.  I hope that he is born in the next couple of days so that I can hold him directly, but even if not, I am assured of the Presence of this little one’s Creator God on his life.

As we say goodbye to many friends in these last few days, I will try and have a thankful heart for the deep roots that God has intertwined in our community.    And I will try not to think about the goodbyes that will come after the hellos back in the U.S. over the next few months.

Several years ago I was asked to serve on the Lausanne Leadership Development Working Group.  There have been ebbs and flows in my level of input;  adding a fourth child to the mix has definitely made it impossible for me to attend the Cape Town meetings this October.  But it’s been wonderful to connect with some amazing leaders around the world and here and there be able to provide some input.  I’ve appreciated all that I’ve learned even long distance.

I was asked in February to write a monthly-or-so leadership blog for the “Lausanne Conversations” website.  The Lausanne Global Conversation (LGC) is an opportunity for Christians around the globe to wrestle with important issues related to world evangelization, in connection with Cape Town 2010.  I’ve loved reading and learning from the varied articles, blogs, and comments that really are coming from around the world.

Anyone can become a “free” member — join the conversation!  I’d love your feedback/input on some of the topics I’ve been thinking/writing about, as well.

Here’s the blog on Authenticity:  A biblical or cultural value?

And the blog on Spiritual Authority:  A Platform for Kingdom Success

You can select from many topics of interest – I’ve been enjoying learning about orality and the Bible.  God is doing some exciting things around the world;  I’m thankful for the tastes I get that make me want to worship and know him more.

I’m late to get another blog posted there- keep an eye out for it!

I have friends who have whole blogs or Facebook updates that focus on their only child.  I love reading the entries and seeing the photos of their growing children.  It hit me recently that if Ian was our first child, he would probably get a lot more blog space.  Even though his blog space is minimal, thankfully  in real life, I think he gets a LOT of love, and he gives a lot  as well.  He is an amazing little boy who wins hearts (as you’ll see in the photos below).

Ian loves to laugh.  He loves his bathtime.

Ian has discovered music – and loves it!  He loves to clap whenever the girls put music on;  what amazed us was when he started several months ago to crawl over to Olivia’s Hello Kitty piano, stand up, play, and sing into the mike!  He just sort of gets it.   It’s not exactly melodic yet, but he’s got a great start…

We love how much joy he brings to the many  different friends in our lives, and most importantly to our  family.  He is one loved youngest sibling!  Not a day goes by that Annie doesn’t say, “Mommy, don’t you love Ian so much?” We have to hold Olivia at bay from over-kissing him.  And he and Owen have a special bond as brothers that we thank God for.

(What does oya baka mean?  It’s a Japanese term for parents who brag about their kids.  We love this little guy and wanted others far away to get to see a few of the reasons why!)

It has been interesting since last writing and reflecting on my Dad’s Korean War journal (see previous entry) how much my father’s ability to focus on beauty has stayed with me.  On a recent morning walk, rather than just “plugging in” and focusing on getting done I breathed a bit deeper and saw with fresh eyes the amazing beauty of the world within a thirty minute walk from our home.  Sometimes I become what? –color-blind, perhaps — to the beauty of the place in which God has placed me.  I become full of the worries of this world;  or consumed by the needs pressing in on our lives, that the very opportunities to worship are lost on me.  I don’t have a lot of “free” time to worship, but training my eyes and my heart like my Dad’s to see beauty in my everyday lifts my heart out of its current encumbered state to a much wider, and more beautiful place.

(above:  a farmer out weeding his newly planted rice crop;  a local neighborhood shrine entrance; a small offering at the shrine;  Below:  a cluster of bold irises allowed to flourish in precious rice territory that took my breath away)

My Dad is a really remarkable man.  He is still running his own boxwood business (age 82!) which means digging up these hundred-pound  shrubs and massive dirt-encased roots.  He just put in his humongous garden again- a fulltime job for anyone — and his bulging muscles make me kids laugh every time we go back home.  (Here are two scanned photos from about six years ago)

When we were back in NJ two years ago, I scanned a number of important family documents and photos, including the letters that my Dad had written home while he was serving in the infantry in the Korean War.  His sister, Ginny, had typed all the letters and put them into a 3-ring binder.

For some reason last week I stumbled across one of the pages and couldn’t stop reading until I’d read to the end.  It had been a long time since reading it.  (I remember in 7th grade when I had first found the binder I talked to my social studies teacher about how to get it published.  I was serious about it!).  Reading it again,  I was so amazed by this man.  I read each page with renewed respect for this soldier– who even in the midst of a crazy war noticed all the beautiful details of his surroundings.   Who found reasons to praise God after seemingly senseless days and nights of  marching up and down uncleared mountains and digging trenches in hard, rocky ground only to be told to move on quickly.

I wanted to share a short excerpt from his letters — pages 88 and 89.  (Please forgive any references that reflect soldier language used sixty years ago during a war;  the last paragraph cuts off and is not related to the previous entries).  These words paint a wonderful picture of both the challenges of a soldier in that war as well as the perspective that we can choose to have when we are in the midst of any battles of life.

I’ve been thinking this week about the role of being a mom. And how important our responses are to the everyday moments of life.

I was greatly encouraged by an email a friend sent comparing moms to — of all things! —  the builders of the great cathedrals of Europe – most of them are unknown, but they poured their hearts and lives into these amazing structures that became beautiful places of worship.

As moms, we have that challenging job of recognizing each day – even the bad ones – as building strong foundations that will, with God’s help, eventually become unique  and beautiful examples of God’s workmanship.

It is incredibly hard to remember at the life stages of our children that how we pour our lives into them in response to the little things  will help determine the beauty and strength of these living cathedrals… Important to remember when I feel sleep-deprived that my choosing to kiss the earthworm when he is held up to my face with grubby fingers really is the right choice.  Or knowing that the permanent black marker will eventually scrub off those legs even if its not in time for the opening ceremony the first day of school…. remembering that his cake recipe concoction might be a waste of a precious cake mix but in the end it’s the time that we spent cooking it together that counts the most… that the digested red crayon only makes red poo poo for a day or two…

This story is one of my favorites.

The painter, Benjamin West, once told the story of how, as a youngster,
       he decided one day, while his mother was not at home,
              to paint a picture of his sister.
He took out some bottles of ink and started in on it.
      Before long he had a picture, quite a good one.
            But he'd also made an awful mess...
                 with all that ink, a permanent mess.
What he'd done dawned on him just as his mother came home.
       He didn't mean to make such a mess, of course,
          but he had.
When his mother saw the scene, saw the mess,
             she didn't scold, as Benjamin fully expected she would.
Somehow, she caught herself--
    not an easy thing to do when you're on the verge of a reaction,
        as she was.
But some inner voice told her not to give in to her reaction.
   It was a close thing...
       yet instead of reacting to the mess she responded to the boy.
    She picked up the portrait and declared,
            "What a beautiful picture of your sister."
                  Then kissed him.
Later in life, Benjamin West, recalling this incident, said:
         "With that kiss, I became a painter."

I need to run… I have a potential Emeril,   Michelle Kwon,  Dr. Doolittle, and Beethoven waiting to be kissed.