August 19, 2011
Others in our team were off setting up two more cafes in front of other temporary housing villages. I strategically located my chair so I could chat with whoever needed a listening ear most. Mr. O has become a regular each week-always wearing his dark glasses. He was a barber who was losing his sight and wondering what to do next when his shop/home was swept away by the tsunami which just added to the questions already forming in his heart. This day in front of two others who came to the cafe he asked me "what gift have you got to give me?". The others wore shock on their faces. "We have been given so much. Maybe we don't have much but everything we've got has been given to us. We need to share everything-I ask for two so I can give to someone who can't get out to get anything or I break what I get in half. We must never think its to be expected that we receive!!" The two thought of a way to excuse themselves because they didn't want to be associated with what they perceived to be a rude request. I knew it was a much deeper question. He proceeded,"I really don't think its about the coffee and cookies-that's not your purpose to be here. You want to give something. What is it? I am just an ordinary man who hasn't studied about God -so tell me straight so that I get it."
Our conversation was intense for a couple hours punctuated by a strong earthquake in the middle to which he commented that God was listening in on us and trying to say something too. His internal wrestling spilled into his words but near the end he took off his glasses and let me see his eyes. His final words before he left were, "I am satisfied". I wondered what satisfied him-honesty and a willingness to listen to the wrestling of his heart which sounded rough and confrontational without judging him for it? What he heard about God? I want him to know God and walk with Him-that is the greatest gift.
After the coversation with Mr O., I was exhausted with my own thoughts churning inside me. There had been others at the cafe and I could not talk to everyone-I tried to slip them books in the midst of my conversation with Mr. O. I am overwhelmed by the openness with which people will talk and feeling challenged by what Mr O saying about people not getting it unless someone lives it out in front of them-how can I live it out in front when we live 4 and a half hours away.Winter is coming and we are responsible for four congregations in Aomori. My heart cries out, "God send someone to help!!!!"
August 20, 2011
The next day we go to Wano. It's a temporary housing village built way up the valley-very green with the mountains and rice fields-but very inconvenient! We have many friends now in Wano. On Tuesday Makiko sent me an email "Mama(she asked me if she can call me that) I'm sad my friend died in the tsunami". I tried to email her unsuccessfully by cell phone so I after I arrive I show her what was written in my unsent file. Over and over people ask us whether we will be there next Saturday. They look forward to it all week. Without some sort of reason they do not leave their tiny rooms because there is nowhere to go and they know everyone else has tiny rooms making it hard to visit each other.
At the cafe a big group of visitors are sitting and talking. Suddenly in response to what someone says, everyone bursts into laughter. "This would never happen in our rooms-there is nothing to laugh about there..." Sometimes everyone talks together other times they break into groups.
Makiko goes back to her room and I look around and see Mrs S. I thank God in my heart for sending her (she is in her 50’s) because I wanted to talk with her. Although she seems to be a very cheerful woman when others are around, when the two of us are alone tears quickly come to her eyes. It's not the fact that they still have to pay the 200,000 dollar loan for the recently completed restoration of their beautiful house. They had just completed the work only to have it bulldozed by the tsunami and burned. She can kind of joke about that but losing her daughter is a much more tender subject. Her daughter worked at the town office. When the earthquake struck everyone ran outside. They started to discuss what to do when they realized the tsunami was coming.They ran inside trying to climb to the top floor because by then it was too late to get to the hills. Not everyone made it up to the top. Her daughter was drowned and washed out the window to sea. Her body came up in May-face gone but the clothes were hers and when they tested it was confirmed. "I've only lost 4 family members-I shouldn't complain". I tell her it isn't about a number, that it's still OK to grieve. Micah's friend lost over 20 relatives. It is shockingly common-not to mention those who lost nearly everyone in their neighborhood. Its one thing to count lost relatives but it is too hard to count how many people they know who have died. The cafe has a side ministry we didn't anticipate. "What?! You're here?!" "Two rows over"."How is your wife?" "She didn't make it..." People find each other. Because of privacy laws the town offices don't give out information of where people are. They are allotted housing by drawing of lots and sometimes end up quite far from anyone they know . People don't have land line phones-they can only find each other by word of mouth. They sit at the cafe and tell who they know made it or who they know died and where they were found dead. We have seen more than one reunion. We also see people tell their friends how they have lost a spouse or child. People trying to form new community with who is left. Two old ladies cling to each other as they walk across the rough gravel to the cafe. They laugh and chat as they come. They tell me the one is 94 and the other 85. They look like they have been friends for years but they only met because they are next door to each other in the temporary housing. Their smiles fade and eyes get teary, "Why did we live?! We should have died and the young people should have lived. I wanted the young people to live long lives..."
While I was talking with Mrs. S I motion with my eyes for one of the Crash Heart Care volunteers to talk to an older lady who was sitting with a man in his thirties. He goes away for awhile so the volunteer massages the hands of the granny and listened to her talk. The man, Mr. C., returns and begins to share his story. After the earthquake he rushed home to make sure his wife and one and a half year old son and his parents got in the car to escape. He tells this with great detail remembering every detail-there is probably not a day since it happened that his mind hasn't gone through every detail. He told them that he would go to find his son who was in sixth grade and make sure that son got to safety. He took such care to get them to safety but the tsunami and fire came. As soon as he could he went in search of his wife's car and found it with the charred bodies of his wife, baby and parents. The cafe day would have been his son's second birthday. He wept openly with too many tears to catch running down his face. The volunteer wept with him and Toby, another volunteer, quietly set tissues beside them. I am often reminded of Jesus' words,"weep with those who weep". Most words would sound so empty in the midst of such grief. She told him Jesus saw his grief and cared about his grief.
Another man comes and goes twice but there is not another person free to hear his story so he quietly receives something to drink and sits looking at the green of the hills with the temporary housing at the foot of them stealing glances at the others sharing their stories and tears. We had even run out of cookies to give him. The cookies are big-the size of a CD. Each are individually packaged with the cafe seal on them. People often sit and look at them for a moment before they eat them or else they save it for someone special because they don't have anything else special to give. "I've never seen a cookie this big!" A granny eating the pie burst into tears and said, "This is the nicest thing I've eaten since the tsunami!" Our desire was not so much to fill an empty stomach but to create a place that brings a sense of love, care, peace, a place it's OK to relax and show their heart. A crazy thot came to me one night. I had about 200 cookies in the back of the car and had had to go to a meeting in Sendai. The next day I was going to take them to the cafe in Iwate. The place I stayed for the night was on a cliff so safe from possible tsunami but where I had to park the car was where the tsunami came. During the night there were several earthquakes. My thot was not what if the car gets washed away but about the cookies. Seeing people who have lost so much enjoy them so much and somehow sense a little of the love of Jesus through them makes me want to make them. Cookies are just a thing we use but really we need more than anything the heart of Jesus expressed in how we serve, through our tears, by what we say, by how we listen, by what we give. God, may they see your heart! And Jesus please give us more people to live you out before them!!!
Others in our team were off setting up two more cafes in front of other temporary housing villages. I strategically located my chair so I could chat with whoever needed a listening ear most. Mr. O has become a regular each week-always wearing his dark glasses. He was a barber who was losing his sight and wondering what to do next when his shop/home was swept away by the tsunami which just added to the questions already forming in his heart. This day in front of two others who came to the cafe he asked me "what gift have you got to give me?". The others wore shock on their faces. "We have been given so much. Maybe we don't have much but everything we've got has been given to us. We need to share everything-I ask for two so I can give to someone who can't get out to get anything or I break what I get in half. We must never think its to be expected that we receive!!" The two thought of a way to excuse themselves because they didn't want to be associated with what they perceived to be a rude request. I knew it was a much deeper question. He proceeded,"I really don't think its about the coffee and cookies-that's not your purpose to be here. You want to give something. What is it? I am just an ordinary man who hasn't studied about God -so tell me straight so that I get it."
Our conversation was intense for a couple hours punctuated by a strong earthquake in the middle to which he commented that God was listening in on us and trying to say something too. His internal wrestling spilled into his words but near the end he took off his glasses and let me see his eyes. His final words before he left were, "I am satisfied". I wondered what satisfied him-honesty and a willingness to listen to the wrestling of his heart which sounded rough and confrontational without judging him for it? What he heard about God? I want him to know God and walk with Him-that is the greatest gift.
After the coversation with Mr O., I was exhausted with my own thoughts churning inside me. There had been others at the cafe and I could not talk to everyone-I tried to slip them books in the midst of my conversation with Mr. O. I am overwhelmed by the openness with which people will talk and feeling challenged by what Mr O saying about people not getting it unless someone lives it out in front of them-how can I live it out in front when we live 4 and a half hours away.Winter is coming and we are responsible for four congregations in Aomori. My heart cries out, "God send someone to help!!!!"
August 20, 2011
The next day we go to Wano. It's a temporary housing village built way up the valley-very green with the mountains and rice fields-but very inconvenient! We have many friends now in Wano. On Tuesday Makiko sent me an email "Mama(she asked me if she can call me that) I'm sad my friend died in the tsunami". I tried to email her unsuccessfully by cell phone so I after I arrive I show her what was written in my unsent file. Over and over people ask us whether we will be there next Saturday. They look forward to it all week. Without some sort of reason they do not leave their tiny rooms because there is nowhere to go and they know everyone else has tiny rooms making it hard to visit each other.
At the cafe a big group of visitors are sitting and talking. Suddenly in response to what someone says, everyone bursts into laughter. "This would never happen in our rooms-there is nothing to laugh about there..." Sometimes everyone talks together other times they break into groups.
Makiko goes back to her room and I look around and see Mrs S. I thank God in my heart for sending her (she is in her 50’s) because I wanted to talk with her. Although she seems to be a very cheerful woman when others are around, when the two of us are alone tears quickly come to her eyes. It's not the fact that they still have to pay the 200,000 dollar loan for the recently completed restoration of their beautiful house. They had just completed the work only to have it bulldozed by the tsunami and burned. She can kind of joke about that but losing her daughter is a much more tender subject. Her daughter worked at the town office. When the earthquake struck everyone ran outside. They started to discuss what to do when they realized the tsunami was coming.They ran inside trying to climb to the top floor because by then it was too late to get to the hills. Not everyone made it up to the top. Her daughter was drowned and washed out the window to sea. Her body came up in May-face gone but the clothes were hers and when they tested it was confirmed. "I've only lost 4 family members-I shouldn't complain". I tell her it isn't about a number, that it's still OK to grieve. Micah's friend lost over 20 relatives. It is shockingly common-not to mention those who lost nearly everyone in their neighborhood. Its one thing to count lost relatives but it is too hard to count how many people they know who have died. The cafe has a side ministry we didn't anticipate. "What?! You're here?!" "Two rows over"."How is your wife?" "She didn't make it..." People find each other. Because of privacy laws the town offices don't give out information of where people are. They are allotted housing by drawing of lots and sometimes end up quite far from anyone they know . People don't have land line phones-they can only find each other by word of mouth. They sit at the cafe and tell who they know made it or who they know died and where they were found dead. We have seen more than one reunion. We also see people tell their friends how they have lost a spouse or child. People trying to form new community with who is left. Two old ladies cling to each other as they walk across the rough gravel to the cafe. They laugh and chat as they come. They tell me the one is 94 and the other 85. They look like they have been friends for years but they only met because they are next door to each other in the temporary housing. Their smiles fade and eyes get teary, "Why did we live?! We should have died and the young people should have lived. I wanted the young people to live long lives..."
While I was talking with Mrs. S I motion with my eyes for one of the Crash Heart Care volunteers to talk to an older lady who was sitting with a man in his thirties. He goes away for awhile so the volunteer massages the hands of the granny and listened to her talk. The man, Mr. C., returns and begins to share his story. After the earthquake he rushed home to make sure his wife and one and a half year old son and his parents got in the car to escape. He tells this with great detail remembering every detail-there is probably not a day since it happened that his mind hasn't gone through every detail. He told them that he would go to find his son who was in sixth grade and make sure that son got to safety. He took such care to get them to safety but the tsunami and fire came. As soon as he could he went in search of his wife's car and found it with the charred bodies of his wife, baby and parents. The cafe day would have been his son's second birthday. He wept openly with too many tears to catch running down his face. The volunteer wept with him and Toby, another volunteer, quietly set tissues beside them. I am often reminded of Jesus' words,"weep with those who weep". Most words would sound so empty in the midst of such grief. She told him Jesus saw his grief and cared about his grief.
Another man comes and goes twice but there is not another person free to hear his story so he quietly receives something to drink and sits looking at the green of the hills with the temporary housing at the foot of them stealing glances at the others sharing their stories and tears. We had even run out of cookies to give him. The cookies are big-the size of a CD. Each are individually packaged with the cafe seal on them. People often sit and look at them for a moment before they eat them or else they save it for someone special because they don't have anything else special to give. "I've never seen a cookie this big!" A granny eating the pie burst into tears and said, "This is the nicest thing I've eaten since the tsunami!" Our desire was not so much to fill an empty stomach but to create a place that brings a sense of love, care, peace, a place it's OK to relax and show their heart. A crazy thot came to me one night. I had about 200 cookies in the back of the car and had had to go to a meeting in Sendai. The next day I was going to take them to the cafe in Iwate. The place I stayed for the night was on a cliff so safe from possible tsunami but where I had to park the car was where the tsunami came. During the night there were several earthquakes. My thot was not what if the car gets washed away but about the cookies. Seeing people who have lost so much enjoy them so much and somehow sense a little of the love of Jesus through them makes me want to make them. Cookies are just a thing we use but really we need more than anything the heart of Jesus expressed in how we serve, through our tears, by what we say, by how we listen, by what we give. God, may they see your heart! And Jesus please give us more people to live you out before them!!!
