Tony & Marsha Woods

From: BurnyWoods <burnywoods@gmail.com>

Date: Sun, Feb 19, 2012 at 3:16 PM

Subject: Friends Forever

To: Marsha Marsha <marsha@mywoods.net>

This week I ordered a jacket online. I don’t ever do this, but it caught my eye, not only because I was browsing thru the website of my old friend, and it was unusual and beautiful (and reasonably priced), but because it brought with it a bushel of happy memories.

You see, when I was about 7, I had a best friend. Her name was Janice, and we were to become lifelong friends. She and I went thru grade school and then junior high. We each had little dog dolls that we made elaborate homes for in our desks, and probably got every Girl Scout badge that was created. Later on, because we had the feelings but not the intestinal fortitude to draw blood, we screwed up all the courage we could muster and dug a hole on the playground and there, by solemn oath, became ‘spit sisters’ by taking turns expectorating into the frozen soil.

Years passed, and although every summer after Bible camp, I would feel so guilty that my friend wasn’t a Christian, I would grab up a wad of tracts and send them (anonymously) her way. The last time I saw her was on the eve of her wedding to a very nice hippy boy. They said that the wind was calling them to the west and I knew I’d never see her again. I cried all the way home.

Imagine my surprise several years latter when, as a young missionary in Africa, I received a very tattered letter, covered with a mosaic of stamps. It had gone to the mission board and then literally all around the world till it reached me. It read something like this,

“All those things you used to tell me finally soaked in. My husband and I were living in a cabin in western Colorado when he, recalling his Christian childhood, called out ‘God, either make something of me or take my life!’ The next morning we wandered into town and through the doors of a little church. A few months later I became a Christian and he renewed his commitment … and now we’re the youth ministers at the church!”

What a wonderful end to the story you think, but it gets better. We got together from time to time after that and found that we had an instant kinship. By then we had become missionaries to Japan and hardly ever got to see them, but when we did, the visits were rich. They climbed thru the ranks of Baptists in Colorado, becoming the people you may know today as the great team for God that they’ve become.

Back in Japan I was teaching one of my ubiquitous English Bible classes when my most promising student announced that she’d be moving to Tokyo indefinitely. I encouraged her to find a church, and as she nodded assent, the look in her eyes told me that that was the least thing on her mind. I cried again on the way home. “Lord, what’s the use?” I complained. “I invest my time, I put it out there for them, but they just aren’t interested!”

When I got home, there was a package waiting. It was from Janice: a lovely cross stitched picture with a poem about friendship. I read it to myself, but I couldn’t hear the words in my brain because God seemed to be saying, “Marsha, when will you learn that I NEVER let people go! Remember long ago when you thought you ‘lost’ Janice? I knew right where she was, and now she’s Mine. Don’t you worry about Sachiko, because she’s in my hands too”

I don’t know what happened to Sachiko but that cross stitched picture hangs on my wall even today. It’s there to remind me not to be too anxious about ‘losing’ people, because God never does.

And now back to my mail order this week. How was I to know that the order and the note from me was delivered to Janice on her Birthday! Maybe God was giving her a little pat on the back just when she needed it too!

As a shameless advertisement, have a look at the stuff she’s selling. Too bad you missed the jacket! http://www.etsy.com/shop/handmadeathomeco

From: Marsha <marsha@mywoods.net>

Date: Sun, Feb 12, 2012 at 6:21 PM

Subject: Seeing Straight

To: Tony Woods <tony@mywoods.net>

The other day, I was doing some last minute shopping in one of the larger grocery stores in our area. We had several events planned, and needing just the right ingredients, I begrudgingly took the time to go there instead of the quaint shops in my neighborhood.

I noticed a young mother in one of the aisles, speaking to her daughter who was riding in the seat of the trolley (shopping cart for you Americans). What caught my attention was the rather interesting head gear she was wearing, much like you’d see on a child who was starting orthodontics. I didn’t give it much thought until I looked closer and noticed the apparatus was holding on a teeny little pair of glasses!

“Oh, how cute,” I thought, flashing back to the time when my own girl had worn something like that. You see, when we adopted Nicki from a Russian orphanage at the age of three, she was cross-eyed. The immediate ‘fix’ when we finally got her back to Japan, was to put her in glasses. At that time, they didn’t strap them on her head; such an action would have saved us a lot of money, as her active lifestyle managed to break a pair about every three months!

I moved closer to get a better look, but they wandered out of sight. Then I saw them again and said a little prayer, “Do I need to put myself in a potentially embarrassing position and speak to this perfect stranger?” They wandered down another aisle out of my reach………… and then I saw them heading right toward me!

“OK, here goes nothing!” I thought, and stepped into her pathway. “What a sweet little girl,” I said. “She reminds me of my daughter long ago”. The lady was visibly shocked to hear a foreigner speaking to her, especially in Japanese. Then I saw………. the little girl was cross-eyed!

I took courage and said, “You see, my little girl was cross-eyed too!” Thankfully for smart phones, I could whip out a picture, both of Nicki when she was three, and another of the beautiful straight-eyed (is there such a word?) bride of 4 months ago.

We chatted a few minutes and I gave her my card. I assured her that before she knew it, her daughter would be walking down another aisle, grown and beautiful. By then the little girl was getting restless in her seat, and so I directed my attention to her. “What’s your name?” I cooed, not expecting an answer, because she seemed to be more of an infant than I had first thought.

Her name is “Maria”, the mother said.

My mouth dropped open. When we adopted Nicki, her BIRTH NAME was…………Maria. What’s the chance?

A few days ago, I got a letter from the mother. It says (in Japanese), “I am so excited to be meeting up with you soon. I am still amazed at the unbelievable circumstances that brought us together.”

I’ll have to say “Ditto”. Isn’t God’s plan interesting?

Obviously, I need your prayers. In three days, Yumi and her daughter are coming to meet me. But I have a strong feeling that this meeting was set up long ago by the One Who directs all our paths.

Praying for eyes to see,

Marsha

From: Tony R Woods <tony@mywoods.net>

Date: Sun, Feb 5, 2012 at 6:39 PM

Subject: Hope in the Snow

To: Marsha Marsha <marsha@mywoods.net>

As we unfold ourselves out of our van the wind scratches across our faces like a stinging nettle. I stomp my feet to try and restore the circulation, which has somehow come to a frigid stop before I can even stand up straight. It’s COLD, or at least in contrast to life back in Tokyo. Here, four hundred miles north, out on the Oshika Peninsula, back in the tsunami zone where everything of any consequence had been washed away last year, there is nothing between us and the weather but the lightweight jackets which have served us well for several years, but which now seem totally inadequate. Snow is blowing everywhere. What in the world are we doing here?

“Oh!” we remember, we’re here because these people we came to see today have never left. They’re still here, freezing through the winter in thin-walled temporary housing units, wondering what’s happened to their lives. Bus service to the peninsula has finally been restored, and there’s a sign at the bus stop (which you Baptists built, by the way) which reads, “Fares to Ishinomaki: 800 yen”. That’s about $10US, and it’s only for one way. The people out here, many out of work because of the Tsunami, might as well call up Richard Branson and ask for a seat on his rocket………

As we continue shuffling and gasping, some of the more cognizant among our volunteer team members start filling bags with fresh vegetables for distribution. As soon as we each have an armful, we start walking gingerly over the ice to the housing units. I notice that since we’ve been there last, someone has been kind enough to add some “genkans” to the doors. That’s a small alcove so that you can at least step in out of the cold before you open the front door, exposing the entire living space.

Knock Knock. “Gomen Kudasai”, we call out, trying to keep our voices cheerful or at least not shaking. Many people seem to be gone, but about every three or four doors, we hear a shuffle, and then someone all wrapped up in a coat eases the door open just a crack.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but if you don’t mind,” (being careful to keep the tone humble, as is the Japanese way), “we’d like to give you some fresh vegetables. We’ve come from the churches in Sendai and we want you to know in this very small way, we haven’t forgotten you.”

Their faces melt into smiles. They apologize for putting us out. A couple of people even invite us in for tea and conversation. After they take the veggies, we offer, “If you’d like something to read…we have these Bible portions.” Not one person says NO, but instead grabs the tract hungrily. We realize there’s very little to do when you’re just sitting under the low heated table trying to stay warm.

We leave that day wondering if this is all we can do, considering the fierce winter that’s upon us. It hurts not to be able to host a ‘kids day in the park’ or a ‘movie night’, but it’s just too cold, both for us and also for them. At one point, Tony even has the rare pleasure of putting CHAINS on the tires after a sweet hiatus of about 20 years (basically since they invented snow tires, which we don’t have).

Then I remember once again “Oh!, it’s not so much the going that’s going to make a difference; it’s the BEING. It’s the phone calls, the notes in the post, and the THOUSANDS of you that pray every day that, as a Japanese friend of ours put it, “God is beginning to change the HISTORY of the disaster area to one of depending on Christ……. all because of this earthquake/tsunami.”

Thank you for staying with us in spirit during these long, cold winter days. We’re looking forward to spring, when the volunteer teams pick up, and we can get back to work. In the meantime, please pray for those thousands of refugees who are just trying to keep body and soul alive … and thank God for those out there in the cold who are reading His Word, and finding there the real reason to have hope.

Love ya (I say through chattering teeth),

Marsha

From: Tony R Woods tony@mywoods.net
Date: Mon, Jan 30, 2012 at 12:08 AM
Subject: Prayer Works
To: Marsha Marsha <marsha@mywoods.net>

I had to change the password on one of my accounts the other day. I couldn’t think of any of the tried and true ones that I’ve used before because the computer’s getting so smart it knows when you suggest an “old” one (that you can remember). So I thought and thought for something. Finally, I typed in the simple words “prayerworks”, feeling sure that not only would I never forget that, but also that I should NEVER forget that! Ha.

I immediately forgot it. I typed in “prayerhelps”……same amount of letters, different result. How about “Prayersnice? No deal.

Then I got, quite by surprise a picture from a friend. It was a picture of her and her husband standing together in the water, beaming from ear to ear. You see, after 26 years of marriage, he’d just been baptized! But now I’ve given away the punch line.

26 years ago she was the first Japanese we’d been instrumental in leading to the Lord, and he was a doctoral student in a higher science of some sort. She was and he wasn’t a Christian, but they begged us and so Tony reluctantly married them. We cautioned her, but of course they were young and foolish and her answer was, “Oh, he’s so close!” Well, we were young and foolish too and so the marriage went forward. Ten years later I remember her saying, “WHY did you let me marry him? As soon as we were married, he went off on building his career and the children and I haven’t seen him since!”

Then this spring, in the aftermath of the earthquake, she made her decision. “Enough is enough”, she said and filed for divorce. All of her children, who are adults and successful Christians, fought it. We fought it…….she persisted. Granted, there were certainly enough reasons, but still…….

Then one day, after not hearing from him in 20+ years, suddenly HE called Tony and asked for a meeting. There, without much coercion, he prayed to accept Christ. That (at least to him) seemed to be the ‘golden ticket’ to get out of the divorce; but wounds are deep and forgiveness is hard, so she persisted. One court hearing with no luck reversing the decision, then another. Meanwhile Tony tried to encourage him along in his new Christian life, secretly suspecting in his heart that there was little hope for his marriage.

After the second hearing, where he begged and cried and pointed out that he was now (supposedly) a Christian, she still said “NO”; so finally he relented and gave her the divorce. We all shrugged our shoulders in resignation, but God wasn’t finished yet.

A few days later, his wife, on her way to the lawyers to settle the estate, stopped in her tracks. “What he has given me in the granting of my wish, is the most LOVING thing he’s ever done for me,” she thought to herself. (You must realize that by nature, this is a very prideful man we’re talking about) “That is so OUT of his character, I wonder if he really DID become a Christian?” When she returned home, she was doing her daily Bible reading and asked God, “Am I doing the right thing?” Then she read her daily passage which happened to be in the Old Testament. 1st Kings 19 actually, where God told Elijah, “Go back the way you came!” She stared at the words in wonder, then picked up the phone to call the lawyer.

That’s been over three months ago, and what can I say??

Prayer WORKS! Don’t forget it!

Please remember to pray for this new start………and all of our new starts when forgiveness is involved!

Tonight we have just returned from a weekend in the Disaster zone, so after we’ve dusted ourselves off, we’ll try to have something to say about that ongoing work next week.

Blessings,

Marsha

From: Tony R Woods tonywoods1@mac.com

Date: Sun, Jan 22, 2012 at 5:56 PM

Subject: To the Real Heroes

To: Marsha Marsha marsha@mywoods.net

It’s very cold here in Japan now.

This week, as I talk to my friends in the Tohoku, those who have lost so much from last year’s earthquake and tsunami, I’m reminded again of just how much they are still suffering. At the same time, I’m so encouraged to know that several organizations are still aware of their needs, and are still working hard to provide what’s needed. And of course I’m suffering too, because I can’t be with those friends as much as I’d like to. Even as we’re sitting a lot closer to the heater here in Tokyo, I’d love so much to be up there, warming my hands at their fires.

Today I’d like to tell you about two of the organizations we’ve come to appreciate these last few months since the earthquake:

The first one is our own Baptist Relief Agency called BGR. (Baptist Global Response). What they do is train people in churches all over America to be ready and able to respond to disasters. After completing training, these groups of 6-10 people are prepared to pay their own way to disaster zones anywhere in the world, ready to put their heads down and work hard, doing whatever is necessary. I’ll have to say in my many years of ‘handling volunteers’, these folks are the best. They eat what’s put before them, sleep where they’re told and work circles around us! What a blessing. Of course they don’t often speak Japanese, but with their servant attitude, they say loads to the devastated Japanese.

Then there’s Samaritan’s purse. Check their website at http://www.samaritanspurse.org. This is one NGO that is openly unashamed of the Gospel. They go in Jesus’ name and are proud of it, something which is rare in this “politically correct” world (You might want to check whatever organization that you’re choosing to support on this issue). I’ve heard by rumor that Franklin Graham (who, as you know, is the son of Billy Graham) once said: “When it comes to disaster, our goal as Samaritan’s purse, is to get there before the Red Cross!” Last year, they almost did.

On March 11, 2011, the 9.1 earthquake and the horrendous tsunami hit Japan. That event has changed forever the lives of hundreds of thousands of people, including ours. The airport in Sendai was in shambles, but the American military stationed here in Japan, in typical yankee aplomb, took a look and said, “I think we can fix that!” They sent in hundreds of troops, heavy equipment (traveling by train around the back side of Japan to reach Sendai from the north) and viola’, within three days had the airport up and running again!

Then came the relief planes, big cargo carriers, loaded to the gills……and one of them was Samaritan’s purse.

Most of you are familiar with the ‘shoeboxes’ that SP delivers to most third world countries and even to some disadvantaged in America during the Christmas season. They contain a toy, a toothbrush, maybe a piece of candy and some personal items like letters and photos from the family that made up the box. Anything really, to brighten the Christmas of some unfortunate child somewhere.

I didn’t realize they also do other boxes. What we saw in the first days after the disaster were piles and piles of boxes labeled “Personal Kits”. Inside we found a roll of toilet paper, a pack of wet tissues, a bottle of water, a toothbrush, sanitary napkins, ear plugs……..the likes of which you’d need IMMEDIATELY if you lost everything. After about 4 months, some bigger boxes appeared that were labeled “home starter kits”, which included the stuff you’d need if you were in temporary housing, such as a pan, a spatula, a tea towel, a bath towel, etc.

Someone has really done their homework thinking out what people need in a disaster.

But what they are doing that REALLY makes a difference is coordinating thousands of volunteers from all over the world in helping rebuild the destroyed homes. In the city of Ishinomaki alone, where in some places the wave only came in at about 8 feet deep (two metres), thousands of the houses have been gutted to the first floor only. This excludes the owner from most government help because technically he didn’t actually lose his home! SP teams go in, mud out and strip out the house down to the bare frame, dig out the toxic mud from the crawlspace, then bleach and disinfect. This act saves the owner mountains of money. Then, if they have time and resources, Samaritan’s Purse will put back the basic walls again, using donated plywood.

As we near the 11th month since the disaster, we want to thank all of you for your support and pray that God will continue to bless the reconstruction effort as well as showing Christ to the nation.

If the weather cooperates (no big snows), we’ll be posting this blog from Sendai next Sunday Night! Please pray for us as we try and set up some events to handle the next wave of volunteers coming in March and April!

Till later, and God Bless,

Marsha

From: Tony R Woods <tony@mywoods.net>

Date: Mon, Jan 16, 2012 at 1:02 PM

Subject: So Blessed

To: Marsha Marsha Woods marsha@mywoods.net

You’ll probably notice that you’re getting this about 24 hours late. Keep reading and I’ll explain why.

We spent last week at an annual meeting of our mission in Japan. It was good to be there, and during one session we were even recognized for serving over 35 years with the IMB, which believe me, has flown by. It was fun sitting around remembering the ‘good ol’ days’ with our friends, who in the absence of kinfolks back home for so many of those years, have really become part of our family.

Midway thru the week, I was prompted to write my kids what I titled the “annual letter” thanking them again for making us proud. Of course, in a meeting like this, there are the inevitable comparisons as you catch up on the news of each one’s kids. While I rejoiced with other parents about their success, I couldn’t help but include a huge THANK YOU to my kids was for being the strong Christians that they remain, even thru the bumps and bruises of life.

According to the personalities of each kid, I got a almost instant response from Nicki, “Oh, Mommy, you’re so sweet…. I love you! ” and then a few long days later, a one sentence cryptic note from Nathan, “So you’re in Hawaii now?” I smiled as I pictured a tough young man who always squirmed away from my embraces with an ornery grin that said he loved the attention but still wanted to be ‘cool’.

“So you’re in Hawaii now?” is the reason why this letter is late. I forgot we’re now on the other side of the International Date Line, where my Sunday night is … whoa … YOUR Sunday night! Sorry about that.

Last Friday, we left the meeting in the western mountains of Japan and hurried out to the airport so we could fly to Hawaii for a wedding reception. You see, our lifelong friends and co-workers, Bob and Gail Gierhart, had married off their son last week in Australia. We couldn’t attend that wedding for several reasons, but mainly because of the meeting. However, since the Gierhart kids grew up literally with our kids, both in Japan and then Australia, we’re “family” and we wanted to be there. Our Nathan was Lance’s best man in Australia, and Bob (Lance’s dad), pointed out that Tony (Nathan’s dad) ,had been HIS best man long ago……………Family.

A few years ago, I made a remark to Nathan as he was preparing to go into the ministry. He mentioned that all his friends were already making large salaries, and I laughed and said, “Well, if you’re planning to get rich, you might want to pick another profession!”

“Oh Mom,” he countered immediately, “we’ve had such a RICH life……. we have friends and experiences all over the world! The Lord has blessed us more than we can imagine!”

True, How True. As I sat there at Lance’s and Hannah’s reception and heard of their love for the Lord and their plans for the future………..and thought of all the interesting people we’d be seeing with this week: old seminary friends, new friends in the area who will be teaming up with us later on in the year to help the tsunami affected people of Japan ………….All the wonderful opportunities we’ve been afforded in the Lord’s work, I really do feel BLESSED!

We’ll be back in Japan Friday, so hopefully I’ll remember when to send next week’s blog. Thank you always for your prayer and support!

Aloha,

Marsha

From: Marsha <marsha@mywoods.net>

Date: Sun, Jan 8, 2012 at 4:41 PM

Subject: Three Day Monks

To: Woods Tony tony@mywoods.net

They have a euphemism here in Japan: “Mee-ka Bozu”…………it means “Three Day Monk”. I’m guessing you’re still lost, so let me give you a clue.

To be a monk (at least in Japan) is a life time commitment. Ideally, at some point in one’s life, everybody considers becoming a monk, but for most, it ends up only being the seed of an idea, a commitment, so to speak, of no more than a passing thought. For about three days.

Do you see why I’m thinking about this right now?

Yes, it’s been a WHOLE week that I’ve had to live with those ‘commitments’ I made in the warm glow of a group of friends who gathered with us at midnight, Dec 31st. You might relate some of those goals. The main one, with so many of us I’m guessing, is to lose weight. Then there are the sub categories of ‘Reading my Bible more consistently”, or maybe ‘Worrying less about money’, or how about ‘Being more understanding’, and the like. You know what I’m talking about, I’m guessing some of you have these goals printed boldly and posted on your refrigerator as we speak.

I woke up this morning thinking about EXPECTATIONS. Why do we take “New Years” as a jumping off place to become something or someone we haven’t achieved so far? What do we EXPECT that’s not being fulfilled?

I read somewhere that WORRY about being overweight is one of the largest causes of death in the Western World. Isn’t it interesting that everybody thinks they should be thinner, although centuries ago, weight was a respected symbol of wealth! How our expectations change, and who exactly MAKES us have those expectations? I was thinking recently, as I live in a very multicultural world, that people, in some ways may be a little like the canine species. I mean, can you imagine the mental anguish of a St. Bernard who is trying to look like a Chihuahua? God probably gave dogs realistic expectations to be strong and healthy and represent their ‘body type’ to the best of their ability. Maybe that’s why man’s best friend can take a nap when he feels like it instead of heading for the gym.

Then take the Bible Reading. A friend once said, “All the great theologians thru the ages seemed to be classic introverts”. You may have picked up that I’m not an introvert. Sometimes I feel like my time alone with God is like being sent to my room. As it was in my childhood history, being forced to have a ‘time out’ was ultimately a good thing, where I did have time to pause and reflect, but I can’t remember this ever being a pursued activity. I have, for the most part, a certain personality…….. so why do I have ‘expectations’ that I can be something else if I just ‘try harder’?

And then there’s the ‘expectations’ we hold for others. Is your husband as dreamy as the Old Spice guy? Does it bother you if he’s not? What about achievements? There are so many folks ‘strutting their stuff’ around …… believe me, while I need to be happy for them, I have to remind myself that these are man’s accolades and not God’s, but still, the competitive gene is there.

Speaking of competitive spirits facing possibly unreal expectations, let me take this opportunity to ‘push’ my husband Tony’s book “The Road Rising”. (Hurry! Order before midnight on Amazon.com). If you have the book, you’ll see that the entry for January 3 has a bit of the following: “The mountain is off in the distance, but the trail is here and now. I’ll think later about lofty peaks and noble struggles, but right now I have a stream to cross, a slide area to negotiate, a dark path to reconnoiter.”

I guess what I’m saying to myself is, I need to have a “time out” and realize what some REALISTIC, God given goals are for this next period of my life. While I write this, I’m thinking of a friend whose marriage is in a reconstruction mode, another friend who is on the last hope treatment for a particularly insidious form of cancer. We all have streams to cross. As you read this, you know what you’re facing………. I need to not sweat the small stuff, but rather focus on the road that stretches out ahead. Maybe that way I won’t be sitting in a puddle of self-loathing beside the road…….. in just three little days!

Love ya,

Marsha

From: Tony R Woods <tony@mywoods.net>

Date: Sun, Jan 1, 2012 at 8:38 PM

Subject: So Much, and Yet…

To: Marsha Marsha <marsha@mywoods.net>

As a “pre-script” (instead of a post-script), I should add that just before sending this week’s blog, we experienced yet another pretty good-sized earthquake here in Tokyo, about 7.0 on the Richter scale. Tony and I were on the subway at the time, and everything came to a screeching halt as the train continued to rock and roll for a full minute or more. It stopped the train for more than 10 minutes, so we all knew it was bigger than normal. There was no phone signal, so we had no way of knowing where the epicenter was, nor if there was a tsunami warning. As it turned out, though, the quake was deep, and so didn’t do much damage except for opening all the drawers in our apartment. Thanks for your prayers and for God’s continued watch care!

A few nights ago we made ‘deal’ with our friends here in the apartment building. I may have mentioned them before, he’s the 67th in a long line of Buddhist Monks, but his father became an atheist somehow… (which now that I think of it, may not be a big problem for a Buddhist) …… but anyway all that’s to say our friend wasn’t raised very strictly in the faith. When Tony asked him once how he felt about Buddhism vs Christianity, he shrugged his shoulders and said the equivalent of, “I could go either way.”

Back to the pact. We were all out walking one day, going to a cheap restaurant for lunch as we often do, when we noticed that there was going to be a ‘temple fair’ that very night at 10PM. They said, jokingly, “We dare you to go!” Now you must understand, 10PM on a winter’s night, walking a frozen mile to an outdoor market is perhaps the LAST place I’d like to be, but we were quick to take advantage.

“We’ll go with you tonight if you’ll go with US tomorrow night!” The deal was struck. You see, we’d spied a tiny little church in our neighborhood that was advertising a special worship service for Christmas Eve. These are common practices with most churches here and usually are cozy little candlelit affairs, with enthusiastic Christmas carol singing, a short but effective sermon, finished off with lots of Christmas treats and hot drinks before everyone wanders off home, warm and happy. We were excited.

When we arrived at the temple fair, we were (obviously) the only foreigners, so we attracted a lot of attention. What they were doing was accepting old and discarded “Kumode” (Bear Paw) charms to burn later: big ones from merchants as well the smaller ones from individuals, and of course selling “New” ones for the next year. These things are hard to describe, but let me try. Let’s say you take your garden rake, assemble everything gaudy in the house that you can find, a dolls face, maybe some tinsel, a bouquet of some very bright and tacky fake flowers, maybe a printed out ‘motto’ or two to live by, a stuffed cardboard red snapper…you know, the basic stuff. Then you display it in a prominent place for the next year……. and somehow this reportedly brings you prosperity and safety.

These creations START at about $20 and go up exponentially to several thousand! Of course, in the perfect marketing scheme, it’s well known that these must be replaced every year. I have to think, “In Japan, with all its economic savvy, is this behavior really smart?” Then I remembered this passage in the Bible: read with me Isaiah 44: 14-19

He cut down cedars,

or perhaps took a cypress or oak.

He let it grow among the trees of the forest,

or planted a pine, and the rain made it grow.

It is used as fuel for burning;

some of it he takes and warms himself,

he kindles a fire and bakes bread.

But he also fashions a god and worships it;

he makes an idol and bows down to it.

Half of the wood he burns in the fire;

over it he prepares his meal,

he roasts his meat and eats his fill.

He also warms himself and says,

“Ah! I am warm; I see the fire.”

From the rest he makes a god, his idol;

he bows down to it and worships.

He prays to it and says,

“Save me! You are my god!”

They know nothing, they understand nothing;

their eyes are plastered over so they cannot see,

and their minds closed so they cannot understand.

No one stops to think,

no one has the knowledge or understanding to say,

“Half of it I used for fuel;

I even baked bread over its coals,

I roasted meat and I ate.

Shall I make a detestable thing from what is left?

Shall I bow down to a block of wood?”

Such a person feeds on ashes; a deluded heart misleads him;

he cannot save himself, or say,

“Is not this thing in my right hand a lie?”

As we walked around looking, several merchants approached us. Tony enjoyed bantering with them about the meaning and effectiveness of these things. One guy invited me to warm my hands at his small fire and we started talking. I told him why I was in this neighborhood at this time of night and why, more importantly, I’m in Japan. He seemed to take a real interest, and we spoke for a few more minutes, mostly about the tragedies that Japan has experienced this last year (at least to my mind, in spite of all the efforts to protect themselves with such customs). I finished with, “You know, as a believer in Christ, the only living God, I absolutely don’t believe in these things, but I’ll have to say they’re kinda pretty”.

As I walked away, he ran up, bowed to me and handed me one of the less expensive ones! What could I do? It was such a sweet gesture, him wanting to share what he believed in after I’d been honest with him. I accepted it with thanks and said, “God Bless you” and hurried home. Now it’s temporarily in our spare room where we occasionally open the door and shout Bible verses at it. We wouldn’t be able to throw it away here because nobody’d touch it, but I assure you, we’ll think of something soon. (rest stop on the freeway?)

The Eve Worship the next night was all that we expected and more. There was one lady there with green hair, a drunk, a woman carrying her CAT…………I spent a large part of the evening about to burst into laughter, but the message came thru clearly, speaking truth and love to a lost world on a cold night. …… I think our friends were truly impressed with God’s acceptance of everyone, no matter how quirky; a God who asks nothing from us except that we accept His gift of Jesus.

What I want to tell you today, this January 1, 2012 is “Happy New Year!” It IS a NEW YEAR!

Japanese do some unexplainable, lost sinner kinds of things….. but do they have some good ideas? Think with me about a few of their New Year’s traditions:

1. As much as possible, businesses and factories shut down and everybody goes home to Mama for a few days. She will cook all the traditional foods and everyone will regale each other with the familiar stories of family, revere the elders, discuss hopes for the future, play with the grandkids, and eat a lot of stuff that would just flat scare and intimidate us foreigners. And then, several hours later, they’ll eat the same stuff again and again (does this remind you of our Thanksgiving?).

2. At midnight on New Years Eve, or most certainly the crack of dawn on New Years Day, most Japanese will visit the temple. OK, it’s only once a year, but perhaps we can learn from them and give our New Year to our Savior, the actual LIVING GOD.

3. While the family is gathered, at some point, they will all declare that it’s time for “Oh-Sou-ji”. We Westerners might call it ‘spring cleaning’ but they do it with a vengeance, in sub zero temperatures. What better way to involve the family, clean out all the junk from last year (especially in the old folks’ houses) and keep from freezing to death, making memories at the same time by scrubbing floors and polishing windows?

4. Then on Jan 2nd or 3rd, everyone returns home, fat and happy, to face another year filled with hard work, higher goals and a determination that sometimes only the Japanese can understand.

So much we can learn from these people, and yet we must never forget that they so much need a Savior.

Again, “Happy New Year”,

Marsha

From: Tony R Woods <tony@mywoods.net>

Date: Sun, Dec 25, 2011 at 9:15 PM

Subject: Tommy’s Christmas

To: Marsha Marsha <marsha@mywoods.net>

Today is Christmas! For us, it’ll be a first in a long time to be away from all our relatives and only be here in Tokyo with our Christian Brothers and Sisters.

But before you feel sorry for us, understand that we’ll have a special worship time, sing all the familiar and not so familiar songs, then eat lots of good food traditional to the Japanese with pounded rice, seaweed, sweet beans, sushi, and the like. Add to that some ‘foreign influence’, like a ham, some potato chips and a lovely ‘Christmas Cake’, which is mostly white cake and pure cream icing.

If you’re reading this today, it might mean that you’re ‘all alone’ as well. Otherwise you’d be too busy to be reading, am I right? When I think of all the joys of Christmas, I’d like to share with you one of my favorites:

Lots of years ago, my grandmother sent me a Christmas card that I still have. The fact that it was from one of the sweetest ladies I’ve ever known would be enough reason to save it, but there’s another: inside the card is a Christmas story which communicates the Gospel in a simple yet powerful way. I think she had clipped it out of a Guideposts Magazine. It was titled simply, “Tommy’s Christmas”.

Tony translated it into Japanese and has used it in more sermons that I would care to admit. Even our Japanese friends in Sendai joke with us every year, saying, “So, do we get to hear Tommy’s Christmas again?

It goes like this:

“Pastor, I’m sorry to interrupt, but…”

It was an interruption, but in this case, a welcome one. For hours, I had sat at my desk, staring at absolutely nothing. And that was the problem. The next morning I would be expected to stand before my congregation and give them something which would bless them, teach them, perhaps give them a better understanding of what Christmas is truly all about. But just how could I do that? How could take such a simple, familiar story and make it fresh? How could I preach about Christmas?

“What is it, Julia?” I asked.

“It’s Tommy; he’s crawled under his bed and won’t come out.”

One wing of our church was dedicated as a facility to care for special needs children, and Tommy was about as special and needy as they come. His birth certificate said he was 7 years old, but his mind would dispute that. Abused and abandoned, Tommy was definitely among the walking wounded in a world no one could see into.

The nurse and I arrived at his bed, and I called out, “Hey Tommy! What’s up man?”

Greeted by silence, I got down on one knee and lifted the bedspread. It took a moment to adjust to the darkness, and even then all I could make out were two tiny eyes, staring back at me.

“Hello Tommy,” I said gently. “The party’s about to start. There’s gonna be games and food … and presents. Do you like presents? I sure do. I wonder what we’ll get this year. What would you like to get?

Silence.

To reach in and pull the young boy out would have been an easy task. But that’s not what Tommy needed. What he needed, desperately, was someone he could trust. Finally there was nothing else to do. Lying on my back, I squeezed under the bed, leaving a button or two on the springs and taking on enough dust to fill my allergy needs for the next year. For a long time, I just lay there, listening to the sound of the child’s breathing, short and raspy at first, and then settling into a slower rhythm. Finally I spoke.

“It’s kinda scary sometimes, isn’t it? There’s a lot of things going on out there that you don’t see every day. But that doesn’t mean they’ll hurt you. First you have to get a better look. And it helps to stick close to someone while you’re checking things out. I’m here, Tommy. I’ll stay here with you until you tell me to leave.”

We waited a while longer there in the dark. I prayed, “Lord reach down and touch this child. Take away his fears. Help him enjoy the life You’ve given him.” As I was praying silently, I felt a hand touch mine. I wrapped my fingers around his and we continued to lay there.

“Apple.”

“What’s that, Tommy? What did you say?”

“Apple. I’d like an apple for Christmas.”

“Tommy, I can just about guarantee that there’s an apple out there with your name on it. And a lot more, too. Shall we go see?”

And so we did. Slowly and carefully, we slipped out from under the bed and joined the other children. There was no need to hurry. Tommy was okay, and so was I. In one touch, God had given both of us exactly what we needed. Tommy got a dose of courage, and me? I got my Christmas sermon.

Sin had come into the world and made it a dark, dirty, scary place. Man tried to hide, seeking out the lowest places, huddling in the shadows, fearing the light. God called out to His precious children. Then He sent His prophets to tell them how to find peace. Finally He sent His own Son, right down into the darkness. And He reached out. And if we’ll reach out to Him, He’ll take our hand, and lead us out of the darkness and into the light, all the way to the Christmas party.

Praying that you’ll have the ‘Best Christmas Ever’ ……….

Marsha

From: Tony R Woods <tony@mywoods.net

Date: Sun, Dec 18, 2011 at 7:24 PM

Subject: Try to Remember

To: Marsha Marsha Woods <marsha@mywoods.net

Even as we come near to the end of this unforgettable year, tsunami

stories keep filtering through. I just heard yet another one from a

friend the other day.

It seems that in the devastated city of Ishinomaki, just east of

Sendai and where over a thousand people died, there was a guy who was

at home on the afternoon of March 11th. His wife was at work some

distance away. Within seconds of the 9.1 earthquake, all phone

service went down, so he wasn’t able to contact her. He saw the

tsunami coming, and with no time to run, he just grabbed the first

thing he could find, a couch cushion, and hung on. The water

completely destroyed everything as it engulfed the house, but left the

walls where he was trapped in the first floor standing. Since the

land around him had sunk by two meters, the water did not recede.

He floated around with about an eight inch airspace between the water

and the ceiling for about three days before he was finally rescued. I

remind you, this was still pretty much winter, so the temperatures

were freezing, and the water was bone chilling. As you can imagine,

he was in pretty bad shape when at last they found him. He was taken

in a delirious condition to a hospital and put in a bed. For days he

hovered between life and death, not only his physical injuries but

also the deadly bacteria and toxic wastes from the water had taken

it’s toll on him. However, he finally began to slowly recover.

Unfortunately though, he had, in his trauma forgotten

everything……his name, his details, everything.

He stayed in the hospital recuperating, learning to walk and talk

again, and trying to remember …….. anything: what did he like to

eat? Did he have a family? a dog?………nothing.

Then one day, he suddenly rattled off a phone number. He had no idea

who’s it was, or even that it was a phone number, but the nurses

quickly jotted it down and called it, hoping for a clue.

It was his wife! She had, on that fateful day, escaped to safety,

waited for him, posted notices in various shelters, made her way to

the house, but of course he’d been rescued and wasn’t there

anymore…….waited around a few more days and finally had given up and

returned to her parents in Tokyo. After all, it had been 6 weeks.

Can you even imagine her joy to be reunited with her husband and start

helping him remember his life again?

Put yourself in his place for a moment. What do you think would come

to mind when the fog began to lift? What is so burned into your memory

that it would survive any trauma, either physical or emotional? One of

our bank security codes is a part of my phone number from over forty

years ago, when we were dating. Today the house, the phone and the

parents who paid the bills are long gone, but the number remains

emblazoned in both of our memories, because back in the day before

IPhones and internet, it was our ‘lifeline’ to each other.

The 13th chapter of Exodus reminds us to emblazon what God has taught

us onto our hands and foreheads, so that when our kids ask, we can

answer and tell them what all He has done for us. I think there’s

something to be said for the Jewish custom that involves actually

writing down God’s Word and tying it around the head as a constant

reminder. Not a bad idea, when you think about it. Sometimes we all

need a reminder.

This week in the craziness of the “tsunami” of the Christmas season,

we’ll hopefully be able to take time in the merriment to be thinking

about the birth of our Savior.

How about this suggestion: as you read your Bible this week, and

something leaps out at you, think of some way to “write it on your

forehead” so you don’t forget it.

And as we ‘remember’ the birth of Jesus, let’s not forget the whole

story of why He came as a tiny baby in the first place.

Remember, because someday it’ll save your life!

Have a blessed week!

Marsha

“This observance will be for you like a sign on your hand and a

reminder on your forehead that the law of the LORD is to be on your

lips. For the LORD brought you out of Egypt with his mighty hand.”

(Exodus 13:9)

From: Marsha
Date: Sun, Dec 11, 2011 at 7:46 PM
Subject: Looking for Mikans
To: Woods Tony

A few years ago, I was reading a parenting magazine and it suggested asking your children what their favorite memory of Christmas was. I thought that might be a good idea……. was it the Christmas they got a slot car set, complete with flashing lights and jangling bells? Or maybe the Christmas with the new bicycles, or the drum set? And then there was the unforgettable “new puppy” Christmas. I posed the question one night around the dinner table, waiting for the glow of appreciation that I would feel when they said how much my financial sacrifice had blessed them.

Trevor, our first born, replied without hesitation, “Easy; it’s the mikans in my stocking”.

What a surprise! You see, as Americans we have a tradition of hanging stockings by the fireplace, or if there’s not a fireplace, then somewhere in a prominent spot. It’s part of normal Christmas decorations, at least for the Western World, and if you go online, you can read about the tradition of the stocking, but in this day and age, I think the “stocking” probably serves as a ploy to stall the kids from opening their “real” presents too early. American tradition has it that the FIRST thing you do on Christmas morning is jump out of bed, run to your stocking and enjoy whatever you find in there. In my family, we opened our stockings, then had a full (and tortuously slow!) breakfast, cleaned up the kitchen, checked the turkey in the oven, THEN, gathered to sit down together and open the “real ” presents.

As is the case with our own family, we tend to be extravagant in other ways, so the Christmas stockings at our house are always rather meager. A few small toys from the dollar store, sometimes even located in a section of the store labeled “Stocking Stuffers”…and maybe a piece or two of a favorite candy. Then, so it doesn’t look too pathetic, we look around and grab something from the kitchen table, usually a banana or MIKAN (which is a tangerine for you English speakers) and stuff it into the top of the stocking. This is done in the hope it will look full to overflowing .

Why is something from the table so much more exciting when it’s sticking out the top of a stocking?

I wonder if it’s the anticipation it represents: that there’s something more exciting to come? To Trevor, the mikan was the BEGINNING of the Christmas celebration. Beneath that household item, he KNEW there would be great surprises, perhaps even longed for since last Christmas.

Christ came to us at Christmas as a tiny, seemingly ordinary baby. You might even call him a “Household Item”, but what a wonderful symbol of the great things he would bring! We read in the Bible about His much anticipated birth in Luke 2 where it says those famous words, “Unto us, a son is given……….”

What wonderful anticipation we can experience when we understand what He did for us. This Christmas, look for the mikans.

Love ya,

Marsha

From: Tony R Woods
Date: Sun, Dec 4, 2011 at 6:29 PM
Subject: Winners and Losers
To: Marsha Marsha Woods

Today I’d like to talk to you a bit about Losers and Winners.

Sometimes I think Tony and I might be losers, at least in the practical realm. I told you before about how we decided to go to Disneyland (Tokyo) on our 42nd anniversary even though it was in the middle of school holidays. It was jammed packed, but we were ready for it! However, after we’d stood in line for over 45 minutes, we realized that we were in a line which was dedicated ONLY to taking a picture with Mickey! I can’t describe how foolish we felt that day!

Then there was the time when we first came to Japan and I couldn’t read, so I bought things sorta by the ‘scratch and sniff’ method. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that I’d been dusting the furniture for over a year with bug spray? Or how about the time I had something in my eye, asked Tony for some eye drops and commented to myself how kind he was to set the bottle out in plain sight on the desk. As I squirted the first drops into my eye, it ‘clicked’ in my brain that the words “lens cleaner” might not pertain to eye lenses, but maybe, just maybe, CAMERA lenses. An hour later in the emergency room, they also had a good laugh as they continued to flush and patch my eye.

We may be losers, but I’d like to tell you about some other losers I’ve been thinking of lately.

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn was a Russian, born to a relatively poor family in 1913. His father had died even before he was born. However, he had a sharp mind, and sometimes even a sharper tongue. When he was a young man, he made a disparaging comment to a friend (or at least he thought he was a friend), referring to Stalin as “the master of the house”. Somehow that landed him in prison for 8 years. In 1953 he was ‘released’ to what was called ‘Inner Exile’, otherwise known as the Gulag. At that time in Russia, the word “Gulag” meant that you’d be finding yourself somewhere off in Siberia, doing hard labor and living on a bowl of gruel a day.

Having no idea when he’d ever be released, things got worse for him when he contracted Cancer. One night, deep in the frozen steppes of Siberia, it was decided that surgery was needed. He met his surgeon: a little old guy who didn’t seem very impressive. But he was amazed at what he had to say.

“Solzhenitsyn”, he said, “I don’t believe you will survive this surgery, so I’d like to tell you about my faith in Jesus Christ”. The surgeon went on to explain to him about Jesus and what he’d done for us by giving us salvation. Solzhenitsyn prayed with the surgeon to receive Christ before he went into surgery, possibly motivated by the fact that he wouldn’t survive. But, quite by surprise he woke up the next morning alive…….and also alive in Christ. He called for his surgeon but after a few shuffles and whispers, he was told that the doctor had been bludgeoned to death the night before because he shared his faith.

What a loser….. where to go from here? Unfortunately, or so he thought, Solzhenitzn proceeded to get well and be released from the hospital, where he found that he was all alone with his new found faith. He tried to find information where he could, but obviously, any seeming interest was risky.

One day, out in the bitter cold, working harder than any man should, much less one recovering from major surgery, he decided to just give up. He hurt too much to carry on, and he knew that if he hesitated, or failed to put out 100% even for a moment, a guard would come around and dispatch him in a hurry. Death seemed like a welcome relief, so he laid down on the job and waited. He didn’t have to wait long, for he heard the boots quickly approaching and heard the click of the gun as it rattled into the position to thrust the bayonet. He heard yelling and cursing and raised his head to his killer to welcome the blow that would send him into eternity.

Now let’s look at another ‘loser’. His name is Charles Colson, and he wasn’t born poor at all, in fact, he had the finest education, the best toys, a loving wife, nice kids….. He had it all. He was President Nixon’s trusted advisor, with an ear to all the ‘inside’ stuff. Unfortunately, some of that ‘inside stuff’ included dabbling in illegal phone tapping and other generally dirty politics. As the chief lawyer, Charles not only participated, but advised others to join in. Before anyone knew it, this caper went bad and the coverup went to even worse depths, shaking the whole nation and would eventually culminate in the president’s resignation. We Americans got the whole new look at crime and politics called “Watergate”. Over a long period of investigations, Charles finally found himself stripped from practicing law; he lost his fortune and by becoming a felon, could not participate in any government business ever again, including even the right to vote. He headed straight for prison where he was going to spend quite some time.

Now that I’ve got you completely depressed, let’s talk about some winners.

Back to Aleksander Solhzenitzen, lying in the dirt, lifting his head to look in the eye of his killer. He was surprised as the man continued yelling profanities as his eyes met Solhzenitzen, and then a small smile crossed his face. Then he dropped the bayonet into the ground and used the blade to draw the shape of a fish: the well-known symbol of Christianity. The guard waited until he was sure Solhzenitzen had seen it, then rubbed it out with his boot and walked off, still ranting and raving to keep from arousing suspicion.

What could he do but get up and continue to work?

Years later when Krushchev came into power, Solhzenitzen was finally released from prison. Now he was able to spend every moment writing prolifically, still never dreaming that he would be ever be heard. However, some of his work was smuggled out of Russia, and in 1970 he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for Literature. They say now that much of this ‘loser’s’ work was attributed to ending the Gulag system of prison in Russia.

And how about our other ‘loser’? Charles Colson went to prison a proud and angry man, punching his fists at the sky as he was ushered in. Time passed, and somehow he was introduced to the saving and redeeming power of Christ. As soon as he was released, he immediately founded Prison Fellowship, one of the most successful outreaches to prisoners the world over. He has been given over 15 honorary doctorates as well as the coveted Templeton Award for “contributing to spiritual excellence”. He says that his letters from the changed lives of countless prisoners are his greatest award.

In his book “The Good Life” he says, “It’s a nice thing to write a check, but sometimes we have to give ourselves. I mean totally, even if it means your life…. or at least your comfort. When we do, there’s no limit to the way other’s lives can be changed and our culture transformed forever.”

There is a Japanese saying, “Makeru ga Katchi”, which means “Often losing is really winning”.

As we move into the Christmas season, we often find ourselves thinking of ‘winning’. Perhaps it’s the best present, the nicest family with the most grateful looks on Christmas morning, or even the warmest fellowship around a crackling fire (or if you’re Australian) around the best spot on the beach. I hear my husband referring to things as beautiful as “a Norman Rockwell Painting”.

I’m talking to myself now when I suggest that we all stop to remember a baby who came, not to the best place…… to be a ‘loser’ so that he could be the greatest ‘winner’ of all time, defeating death itself to give us the VICTORY.

Have a good week,

Marsha

From: Tony R Woods <tony@mywoods.net>

Date: Sun, Nov 27, 2011 at 6:50 PM

Subject: Too Much of a Good Thing

To: Marsha Marsha marsha@mywoods.net

Can you imagine my surprise when I saw this lovely little potted plant for sale in Japan? I was so astonished that I immediately took out my phone and snapped a picture. I’m sure the florist thought I was nuts, and actually… I sorta was.

You see, this innocent little plant called “Lantana” is one of the most insidious, obnoxious, exasperating WEED to take over Australia. It’s way worse than clover, which as irritating as it can be, at least can be mowed out of immediate sight and isn’t full of thorns that hurt everyone.

Lantana, the bane of many people’s existence, and yet sitting here with a pricey amount on the tag. Why is one man’s beauty another’s curse?

I don’t know who introduced Lantana to Australia, but because of it, literally hundreds of thousands of acres have been turned to unusable land. We’ve had the personal experience of poisoning it, burning it, digging it and pulling it……..nothing really works. It’s leaves are mildly poisonous. Reading in Wilkopedia, I notice that the strength of the stems is a ‘feature’ in some wicker ware. Good luck with that, I can’t imagine the stickers you would incur trying to get it into a ‘stem’, or how you’d like a basket that was prickly and stinky at the same time!

Japan can have terrifying winters, and I’m guessing that THAT’S the only thing that will STOP lantana.

So where am I going with this? Anything ‘left to its own devices’ in a hospitable environment has the ability to go feral….don’t you think?

How about self esteem? Good thing, right? But with no ‘ harsh winter’ to sculpt it, egomaniacs are born. Someone said that there are a lot of murderers out there with good self esteems.

What about being a gourmand? Is there a glutton hiding in there? Many of you have just experienced a lovely Thanksgiving dinner. How’d that go for you? And while we’re thinking about ‘too much’, how short is the trip from a person who’s ‘in the know’, to a person who is just a plain ‘gossip’?

Jesus warned us about indulgence. The last of the Gifts of the Spirit that Paul wrote about in Galatians is ‘self control’.

Lord, please keep me in my ‘pot’. I want to thank You for your gentle trimming and sometimes aggressive pruning, and yes, maybe I’m even thankful for the few times you’ve frozen me right back to the root. Even though I may not always like it, I choose to believe You’re keeping me a beautiful thing of value…….and not something that everybody wants to stamp out.

Marsha

PS, Here’s a prayer for the nation which has been attributed to Billy Graham. I wonder if there are any implications in it to Lantana?

“Heavenly Father, we come before You today to ask Your forgiveness and to seek Your direction and guidance. We know Your Word says, ‘Woe to those who call evil good,’ but that is exactly what we have done. We have lost our spiritual equilibrium and reversed our values. We have exploited the poor and called it the lottery. We have rewarded laziness and called it welfare. We have killed our unborn and called it choice. We have shot abortionists and called it justifiable. We have neglected to discipline our children and called it building self esteem. We have abused power and called it politics. We have coveted our neighbor’s possessions and called it ambition. We have polluted the air with profanity and pornography and called it freedom of expression. We have ridiculed the time-honored values of our forefathers and called it enlightenment. Search us, Oh God, and know our hearts today; cleanse us from every sin and Set us free. Amen!’

From: Tony R Woods <tony@mywoods.net>

Date: Sun, Nov 20, 2011 at 7:39 PM

Subject: A New Beginning

To: Marsha Marsha <marsha@mywoods.net>

I’ve recently discovered the joy of downloading books to my phone and reading them on the train as we spend hours every week riding around Tokyo. Anyway, lately I’ve been reading a book about how to write non-fiction, since that seems to be something I enjoy doing. At one point it makes the comment, “The end of one story may very well be the beginning of another”.

Mmmmm … I think that may be what’s been happening this last week.

You see, when I was a young missionary, I loved to go to retirement dinners. A mission is a lot like a family, especially because our flesh and blood kinfolks are so far away. And as a result, there exists a real camaraderie between us. Don’t get me wrong, that’s not to say we never want to wring each other’s necks, but generally, we all feel like a big family, and when some of us get old and decrepit, and need to ‘move on’, it’s such a learning feast of old memories and laughter mixed with tears and sadness to see them go.

Now we’ve been gone from Japan these last 13 years, and during that time, a few ‘oldies’ got away without me noticing. Then ALL OF A SUDDEN here we were participating in the retirement festivities of some of our PEERS!! We laughed this week as we ate together and honored them. We played little games of ” Who’ll be the next?” and “Who’ll be the last man standing?” all the while wondering, “How could this be happening to us? We were just children playing together a few years ago. When did we get OLD?”

Ed and Nan Jordan can boast 28 years with the Japan Baptist Mission. Before that, Ed was an air traffic controller in the Air Force. You’d have to ask him whether landing 1500 planes a day or running the business end of a rather large mission was more challenging. I’m sure he has ‘war stories’ to abound on both scenes.

This last week we enjoyed some of the stories collected over the years; stories that had been told and retold like oral tradition. But of course, such stories need to be conveyed “one more time” to insure their accuracy, and we would all sit quietly as each account was shared, knowing the punch line but waiting til the end so that we could all share the laugh together. There was the secretary who had written in her best English, “please enjoy the coffee, it’s fresh dropped”; and of course we just had to hear again about the family dog who ate the diamond necklace, with all the extra embellishments about how they eventually retrieved it (you don’t want to know).

It was an evening of laughter are tears, both of sorrow and of joy. Together we remembered the people led to the Lord, married and buried. The churches made stronger because the Jordans were there. The hardships of having children leaving home and moving, literally, halfway around the world. Aging parents, language difficulties, homesickness, both for America and for Japan.

And topping the list had to be the HUGE impact Ed and Nan have made these past 8 months, working tirelessly in the far north, directing the work of volunteers in tsunami relief efforts. They have almost singlehandedly manned our northernmost base, organizing the work, feeding everyone and tending to their needs. You remember the toilet I described a few weeks ago? That was the one they both built and then lived with all that time. Truth be known, none of us want to believe it’s really their heartfelt desire to leave all this for the sake of retirement, but rules and politics ever abound even in a mission organization, and so tomorrow they will, in good faith in both the Lord and the (Mission) Board, get on a plane for the good ol’ USA. I imagine they’ll give a sigh of relief and maybe shed a tear or two for their adopted homeland. Then, I’m hoping they’ll honor their promise to be back working alongside in some volunteer capacity as soon as it’s humanly possible.

Even though somehow they’re way too young to be retiring, I know the young missionaries would love to sit at their feet and learn from them. I’m looking forward to reading their “next story”.

By the way, as I’ve mentioned reading books on my phone, check out our Amazon site soon, as we hope to have Noguchi Naoki’s book, Sacrificed available as a Kindle download in the near future!

Marsha

From: Tony R Woods tony@mywoods.net
Date: Sun, Nov 13, 2011 at 5:14 PM
Subject: Coming Off the Mountain
To: Marsha Marsha <marsha@mywoods.net>