My baby has gone to college-- now what?

When you are in the middle of diaper changes and midnight feedings it is hard to even imagine a time when your child would no longer be at home. After long summers of hearing "I'm bored" most mothers are counting down the days until the big yellow bus comes and takes their child off for another school year. And while you know it will eventually happen, not once do you picture loading up the car and taking your child off to college. I blinked and that wrinkly, 6 lb 2 oz little girl was suddenly 18-years-old. This past Sunday we made the 5 hour drive to Texas Tech University to take our "little" girl to college. 

Taking your child to college is bittersweet. On one hand you are excited about everything your child will accomplish over the next 4 years. This experience will be the stepping stone used to help your child achieve all their dreams and goals. On the other hand you are full of worry and a bit heartbroken. What if your child needs you?  What if they struggle with school? Where are they at 2 am? Who are they hanging out with? Does your child miss you as much as you are missing them? And the list goes on. 

God has a plan for Emily. Over the past year, He has been faithful over and over. We were worried about her transition from Japan to here, especially considering it being her senior year, but she did better than we ever could imagine. There have been people put in her life over the past year, that I know without a doubt, are part of His ultimate plan. I need to remember as sad as it is for me, that her leaving the nest and embarking on this college adventure, is all part of His ultimate plan as well. And I am so excited to see what God has in store for her and her future. I know it is going to be great.  

"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it." - Proverbs 22:6

'Twas the Night Before Texas

'Twas the night before Texas,

And all through the hotel,

Not a creature was stirring,

Not even a... forget it. Nothing rhymes with hotel.

It has been 4.5 years since we moved to Japan.  I remember nervously putting our "babies" on a plane and heading to Japan, not having any idea what may lie ahead. 

Tomorrow evening Matt and I will put our youngest two children on a plane and embark back to the United States on a new adventure to Dallas, Texas. Our oldest daughter will follow at the end of June.

I have to admit, I am in serious denial about this move. In some ways it is surreal. Maybe it is because I have so many people tell me how difficult repatriating is supposed to be and I don't want to deal with it.  Maybe it is because I am leaving my first-born child behind for three months, when we have never been apart for more than a week. Or maybe it is because I have fallen so much in love with Japan, the culture, and the friendships I have built, that the idea of leaving is hard to think about. But the reality is, in less than 24 hours I will be in the air over the Pacific Ocean, hopefully sleeping with the help of a few bottles glasses of wine. 

Our goal when coming to Japan was to embrace the culture and gain as much as we could from this experience. I think we have not only achieved, but surpassed that goal. We climbed Mt Fuji with our older two kids and 16 other Caterpillar ISEs. We have been skiing, camping, white water rafting and road tripping throughout Japan. We have learned to embrace onsens and eat raw fish. We have experienced some of the world’s most beautiful beaches, ziplined through jungles, ridden on elephants, visited seaweed farms, hiked thorough Vietnam, crawled through the same tunnels as soldiers in the Vietnam War, snorkeled the Great Barrier Reef and saw cows walking down the streets of some of the poorest areas of Asia.  My family has been blessed over and over during our time here. 

There are some things I never thought I would experience, like the 2011 earthquake and getting stitches in a rural Vietnam clinic by someone who was probably the village vet.  I went on two disaster relief trips to Tohoku shortly after the earthquake and the experiences I had during my time up North will be ones that stay with me forever. I am already thinking about ways to get involved in missions and service trips in parts of South America. 

I will take away many lessons from my 4.5 years here. The Japanese language is hard. I will never be fluent, or even close.  Japanese beer is way stronger than US beer. Everything here is a process, and if you think it should take an hour you better double that. Forget clothing style, anything goes, especially Little Bo Beep wear. Most people do not speak English, yet they will go out of their way to help you. Taking the train everywhere is way easier than driving, Japanese people can find a reason to smile in the midst of the worst tragedy. And people leaving is a hard reality of expat life and unfortunately it is now our time go. 

Most importantly, I have learned that when you pack up your three children and move to the other side of the world where you know no one, cannot speak the language and drive on the opposite side of the road, the people around you become your family. And boy are we going to miss our amazing family here in Kobe. 

In Japanese, the word for goodbye is sayonara. I do not believe in goodbyes, so as we board the plane tomorrow, heading to what I hope to be another amazing adventure, I will bid this beautiful country and all my friends ja mata, or as we say in English "see you later". Because anything else, I hope, is false. 

My Experience Up North

Almost 2 weeks ago, I was a part of a 5-person team that went up into the Sendai area to help with relief efforts.  Our main role during this trip was to help distribute food and supplies. I am finally ready to put to paper (okay computer) some of the stories from my trip.

For most of the time up there, I felt like I was walking on a movie set. Living most of my life in the Midwest, I found it hard to wrap my head around the reality of the situation.  What I was seeing was a far cry from cornfields and soybeans.  Houses inside stores, buildings on top of buildings, cars inside houses, cars wrapped around poles, a ship in the road. Stuff was everywhere it shouldn't be.  The smell of stagnant seawater and fish was overwhelming.  It was all so surreal.  

So instead of thinking about the total devastation around me, I concentrated on the people we were there to help. Our main focus was to work with those who are not in evacuation centers. Those who have remained living in their homes, local areas or abandoned buildings.  These are the people who seem to have slipped through the cracks as far as receiving aid.  In the morning we went to the warehouse and loaded up the vehicles with food and supplies. Then we worked with other teams and went to the Ishinomaki area to set up several drop stations. 

At these drop stations we set up blue tarps and placed food and supplies on them for people to choose from. We then spoke with people in the area and asked them to help spread word that we were there with supplies and food.  You could tell during these drop offs which areas had not been visited in a long time as those people seemed more desperate for supplies and food items.  

The people were just completely amazing. You still saw people joking and laughing through their tears and their fears. We took candy in our pockets and passed them out to the children and it was wonderful watching their faces light up with the sight of a small piece of candy.  Then you saw the parents smile because their children were smiling. I was playing with a little boy, who happened to be the same age as my youngest daughter. We were playing keep away with a small piece of playdough while I tried to tell him in my limited Japanese that I have a beautiful 7-year-old daughter who he may find cute.  

One woman had a hurt knee and asked if I could help her back to her living area. Along the way she was telling me how she thought she was going to die in the tsunami and how she knew God sent us here to help. When we arrived at her place she asked me to "chotto matte" (please wait). She came back a few minutes later and handed me a bag with some bread and sweets that she was saving and told me to tabette (eat) and share with my tomodachis (friends). Here was this woman with nothing and she was giving me something to say thank you. I was overwhelmed with emotion. So I hugged her. And for those who know me I am not a hugger.

 

At another location a woman told me it was a special day because we were there to help her. She then told me how she fears every night going to sleep that she will die.  She told me how frightened she was.  This past Thursday there was a 7.4 magnitude aftershock and her face and story haunts me. I can't imagine the fear she much have had at 11:30 pm when this large quake started and the tsunami alarms went off again.  

 

The other people helping were pretty amazing as well. At one location we ran out of bottled water and one elderly woman needed water to mix with the chicken rice packet we gave her. One of the other relief workers with us, a boy of only 18, went into the car and got out his backpack and handed her his own personal bottles of water from his bag. We ourselves, gave the one group of people our food for the remainder of the trip. They needed it much more than we did. 

 

On that Friday the US Military was working with the Japanese Special Defense Forces on a 3 day intensive search. It brought tears to my eyes (like I didn't have enough already) to see my country there helping the country I have grown to love. From what I have read, the US Forces will be there until the end of April.  

When disasters such as this one occur, it is common for people to question or ask where is God in all of this.  How can God allow so much destruction and suffering? While we were driving to where we were staying the night after our first day of helping, it was starting to rain. I looked out of the van and over to the left, and right over the seaside was a huge, beautiful rainbow. I am sure the other two people in the car thought I was a bit weird for being so excited about this rainbow. But I am one who wants to see signs.  So for me, this rainbow was a sign and a promise that God IS there. God WAS there. And God WILL CONTINUE to be there.    

I have uploaded additional pictures to my family's shutterfly account. Please know these photos are both of the devastation and of our relief efforts. You can find the photos here.  I also took several videos. One of my friends made a compilation video of some of our footage while up North. Here is the compilation video.

 

It will be a long time before things are rebuilt. The train lines are gone. Debris needs cleared. Water needs pumped. Cars need removed from rice fields. But I have faith that Japan will come back and be better than ever.