The Hard Stuff

(This is a post I started at Chistmas, but never finished until now.)

"At Christmas, we like to see things in their proper place. We unwrap the ancient legends and the oldest truths. We like our angels unchanged and our rituals familiar. We like the right faces around the table, the right carols to be sung, the promise that this is how it is and always will be, because that is Christmas. The one still point in a world forever turning." 

The above quote are the opening lines to an episode of one of my current favorite shows: "Call the Midwife." I sat down to watch it and wasn't able to finish until I had processed those lines. 

Because...what happens when your Christmas is no longer a "still point in a world ever turning"? 

This year the faces around the table were, while still cherished, not the right ones. 

This year things weren't in their proper place.

The week leading up to Christmas wasn't an easy one for me. On top of missing my family, and those I normally celebrate with, I had a rough week in language. We had a stretch of several tough lessons back-to-back that left me feeling like a complete failure at Japanese. 

It all came to a head at our church's candlelight service. I had been asked to read a section of Scripture in Japanese, so I was sitting up front during the service with all the other readers. We sang all the "right carols", but in Japanese, so my brain had to work in overdrive to follow along with the hiragana.

Then things came to a head as I thought, "Why the heck am I doing this? Why am I here in this strange place struggling to sing Christmas carols - something that should be so easy and natural." I fought to hide tears that were threatening to embarrass me.

Then the Scripture reading started again. I can't tell you what was being read at that point, because my brain had checked out, but all of a sudden God spoke to my heart. He said, "You have no right to go home and sing Christmas carols in English while millions here don't know the reason we sing these carols." Well. Talk about a reality-check, spiritually speaking. I could go home and live in a familiar setting, with familiar faces, but I would miss the blessing of obeying God's command to plant my life in Japan, and be used by Him. So yes, I have GONE, but now I will STAY.

Cart, Buggy, Whatever

Depending on your respective area of the United States, your name for that contraption you use to haul your groceries around the store in will vary. However, the point of this post is not to argue about that, although you might be interested in knowing that if you were in Japan, you would more than likely call it a かご. Fun fact for the day.

They aren't all this way, but at our particular neighborhood supermarket, to use a buggy you must first insert a ¥100 coin, like so:

You then push in the coin, then the red thing connected to the chain above pops out, then you're on your merry way. After you are finished, you reconnect it with the cart in front of it and your coin pops back out.

Even though I occasionally have to scramble for a ¥100 coin, I have to admit, they have a pretty brilliant system going on. ¥100 is approximately $1, and you definitely wouldn't want to run off and leave your buck stuck in a cart now do ya? That's a large drink at Sonic Happy Hour!! (Unless the cost has gone up since I left the States) Therefore, you very willingly return your cart to all its little friends in the cart corral, and no cart pushers are needed. 

Fun Fact #2: Jason was a cart pusher at Wal-Mart one summer. It was the summer I spent in Romania, so I didn't see him for 8 weeks. When I came back, he was super tan and muscular from his job. Hubba hubba. Moral of the story, dudes: Cart pushing can be a very, VERY beneficial job.