WHO TEACHETH LIKE GOD

This is one I debated about posting in Japanese but decided against, so it's going here. I've done almost 90 pages in a Japanese book so have little time left over to do any posting on this blog! It was the other way around when I was working in English!

Wait...where is that story I decided not to use? Hm. Well, it's a simple one, and it goes like this:

At school, a Christian one started for children of missionary parents, you may remember, I was hearing all sorts of Bible stories. One I understood very well was about Achan and his stolen images.

In family devotions, we'd just been reading the verse, "Be sure your sins will find you out."  (Num. 32:23) From one incident, I learned that verse as, "BEWARE your sins will find you out."

I'd stolen ten pennies in the morning and stacked them up under my pillow--no one ever looked there--and went off to school. That day, for some reason, Mommy came into the room for a talk; sat down on my bed and lifted the pillow onto her lap to talk, exposing the small copper pillar.

Achan's God had found me out!

My mind jammed, and I felt sick. I remember the feeling in my stomach. I wanted to throw that money away. I don't think getting candy with stolen money would've been worth it at all. In fact, from that day on, the thought of acquiring ANYTHING unrightfully never appealed to me.

Some people chuckle about how impressionable children's minds are. Maybe, but I thank God that He in wisdom works with even that in ways men cannot.

How did Job put it?  "Who teacheth like God?" (Job 36:22)

FATHER'S DAY GIFTS

It's Father's Day. Some think of fancy poetry, expensive gifts.

Kinya? I have to draw in my breath, shake my head, and just think, God, the Creator, is Wonderful. Have you ever sat down and tried to think of something original? It is so much easier to come up with maybe something on the good side that's an adaptation of something already in existence...Food companies call it "New and Improved"; Greeting cards call it "The Next Best Thing"; Remodeling establishments compare" Before" and "After" conditions. But only God can create a person so uniquely original yet meeting needs exactly the way He wants.

Especially since my fall last year, Kinya has been quick to fly to my needs. If I look outside, and the weather looks conducive to a short walk, no matter how involved Kinya may've been in browsing the newest line of computers or watching world trading, he will drop everything and shut it all down, jumping up to come with me at a moment's notice; he will not risk my having another spill when out alone.

Altho' wildlife photography used to be my hobby, Kinya is now the one who excitedly spots and tells me about the swimming turtle or the bird hidden in the branches--I don't have to worry about boring him.

And when I asked, last year, if he'd get me the bare minimum push-cart to help me walk, he said he'd seen a bargain at a store quite a distance away and offered to walk to get it--I didn't realize he'd seen online the variety available there and bought me a deluxe type I'd never have purchased myself.

Father's Day gifts. Wait a minute. Aren't they supposed to be gifts bought for Dads, not gifts Dads buy for their families? This blog post was backwards. Oh well; it was about the gift of love anyway--and it goes both ways, hopefully.

I Was at Rev. 11:14 and was told to look back...

Another long blank. Whew. I've been doing so much work in Japanese on that book-blog (I must share sometime how I came on doing it that way); I have little time to do any work in English anymore. Even writing in English for my personal journal has to do with my memory work...right now around Revelation 11:14.

Morning Stroll, Iwatsuki

Some people get a mental allergic reaction to the sound "memorization", and altho' it's the same word, what I'm doing now in my old age is very different from what I did when I was younger. I wake up every morning to take a walk with my Heavenly Father, and our meeting place happens to be in Revelation. There is no set agenda, no work to do or time it has to be done, review, recitation of chapter and verse that must be done. Some people call my way sloppy and undisciplined--but it's NOT STUDY; just a STROLL.

I don't know natural citizens who review their own citizenship rights every year or married people who read their marriage certificates every month. Neither are children of God expected to HAVE TO memorize the truths they possess. It should be something they are free to not do or free to do (I want to throw in both. Some like to throw in legitimate criticism of many who do memorize. Please leave us alone.)

-------------------------

Actually, since I'd finished verse 14 yesterday, I thought God would have me move onto verse 15 today. But it's like we got up from the boulder we were sitting on to walk on, and He motioned for me to look back between the trees behind us. I'd missed something in verse 13. Can I share what I saw?

Incidentally, I am NOT saying this is accurate scriptural interpretation, not "What it says" by any means. These are just thoughts the Holy Spirit threw into my mind as I was reading here, ok?

"The same hour...the tenth of the city fell...in the earthquake...seven thousand" (Rev. 11:13)

The same hour - sometimes, the very same time God seems to be doing something, He may be doing something else too; and he can operate on multiple levels at one time in ways that man's mind cannot fathom. We can never assume on the mind of God.

the tenth of the city - isn't this a minority? but it's of no consequence to God. Just a corner of a handkerchief or the center of it too, and to a great God, it's still a handkerchief. Perhaps it's called representation. Even the fallen minority can tell God about the heart of the standing majority.  The way God announces His woes or executes His mercies may be according to responses of this minority. Do Christians, the minority, call down God's mercies on fallen man, then turn and cry to the majority, "please, be reconciled to God"?

Fukushima Earthquake, 2011

in the earthquake - make no bones about it, this was an act of God. Recently, I was going back over 2011-3-11 earthquake we had in Fukushima, Japan, and how our family had to move out--all U.S. citizens within a certain radius of the damaged nuclear reactors were encouraged to move then, I remember. And with only what we could carry in our backpacks, we got on a bus moving through a back way--resourceful minds had patched together an exit route for the bus--and left Koriyama City, barely getting out of the metropolis. The Sendai airport was destroyed, train rails were uprooted but the bus--and few of us even managed to get gasoline then, so I don't know how they did it--somehow bounced over those split but manageable roads. Much could be said of that time.

were slain of men - not troubled, lost, or hurt, but killed; pretty final. And God Himself had punctuated the "period" there. And was not man the crowning act of creation, made in the image of the One...Who had killed him? Why?

seven thousand - wait...this was the number, the Holy Spirit seemed to bring to my memory, of faithful prophets who would not bow the knee to worship Baal, wasn't it?

This is just me. I couldn't help but see Moses' and Elijah's corpses from previous verses being infused with life and ascending to Heaven; believers praising God for His undeniable power; the unsaved deciding to shut these faithful Christians up but before they get around to it, a great earthquake comes from Heaven as if to say, "Oh, no you don't; I can get them Home Myself, thank you."

Hospital Window, Okinawa

Perhaps it's the YouTube movie I just viewed. The main character wanted to free her child from an institution and bring her home. Wouldn't that be a Heavenly Father's desire, not to leave His faithful loving children in the dark and broken walls of a cruel earth where they are mistreated, mocked, tortured, not given what they need, labeled hatemongers-criminals of society-minority outcasts?

The institution seemed to want to keep its patients medicated and unable to even recognize-respond to the rightful custodian who could grant her actual freedom. Is this "catatonic" inducement not brought about by the world's allure of social status, material security, and offers of satisfying vindication? Most human beings seem to lose sight of, desire for, Creator God Who can truly liberate and bring beauty out of ashes.

Back to "my vision". I saw a merciful Heavenly God taking His children Home in death, very aware, at the same time, those human creatures who remained and were not His would be terrified and then be given opportunity to give glory to the God of heaven.

We do not know this is what happens in Revelation, of course. But if God were to so choose, to use our deaths to lead unsaved to repentance, how many of us would willingly die for Him?

Garden, Missionary Acres

"And Jesus answered them saying, The hour is come, that the Son of man should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a grain of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." (John 12:24)

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

I am not saying the objective content of a verse is not important. It is important for the Christian to read the Bible praying for God to show the plain reading of any text FIRST, and, of course, a Bible Scholar would be able to give you its accurate meaning. That is, I've heard, for over six decades, wonderful teaching from gifted men of God that should never ever be traded...I hope this kind of post will not be a stumblingblock in any way.

IT WAS JUST A LAYMAN'S LETTER

Robert Neyman and his wife had visited our home in Tonokura then written to his church in the U.S. about the visit. The letter got circulated to other churches, and I guess you could say in today's YouTube terminology, it "went viral"...well, I exaggerate...maybe it "went bacterial"?

At any rate, it resulted in funds being sent enabling our family to move. (We later found out that wooden house was probably unfit for human habitation, torn down the day after we left.)

I found this letter and was going to post excerpts from it--the whole thing is two-pages--then decided to post the entire thing.  Readers can choose themselves which portions they want to keep for their own memories. (I found Daddy's photos and attached them.)

***************

THE UNIVERSITY OF THE RYUKYUS

Naha Okinawa, Ryukyu Islands

May 9, 1963

Dear Friend,

Not long ago, I visited with Kimiko and Roy Oshiro. Roy had invited me to give my testimony at the church under his supervision. He also invited my wife and I to Sunday evening dinner before church. As we arrived, I clearly remember backing my car in between the close crowded buildings of this Oriental city. Then as we went into the house, Roy joked.

"Which side do you want, the men's or the women's? The men go this way through this door. The women go that way through that door."

I looked at him in puzzlement. My wife didn’t relish leaving her escort in a strange city. 

Roy laughed. “This used to be an old bath house. Let’s take the left door.” 

As we stooped through the door, Roy commented, “This is where our church meets.” 

“No benches? Only tatami mats?” I asked gazing at the straw mats.

“Yes,” he said, “If we put benches in the room, it wouldn’t be big enough to hold all the people.”

I thereupon pointed out that one of my young Okinawan friends didn’t like sitting on tatami mats. He pointed out that at school Okinawans sit in chairs, on buses they sit on chairs, and that in many Okinawan homes chairs are now used.

“We have no alternative,” Roy said. “There’s not enough room. In fact, when visitors come, we have to sleep them out here in the church.”

By the end of that discussion, we were through the church, and into the cramped living quarters. At Roy’s invitation we pulled up chairs to the table. I noticed that two of the chairs were Army quartermaster issue and two were obviously local. After the flurry of introducing and seating three vivacious little daughters, Roy started the usual (or unusual) dining table conversation.

“We sleep over there,” Roy said, pointing across my shoulder.

“No beds?” I queried.

“No room,” Roy answered. “There’s not enough room for five beds in there.”

I surveyed the approximately 9 by 12 foot room, and couldn’t help but agree.

“Besides, if we had beds in there we wouldn’t have room for the children to play on wet days.” Every evening, I have to pull the mattresses out and make up beds. Sometimes it’s very hard when I come home tired in the evening after a day of evangelizing in the country.”

Just about that time, I caught sight of welts and scars on their second daughter (June’s) arm. Noticing my curiosity, Roy said,

“Some of them are insect bites from a year ago, some quite recent. She’s very sensitive to them.”

“The tatami mats are infested with fleas,” Kimiko added. “ It’s impossible to get them out.”

“Can’t you do anything about them?”

“We put insecticide on the girls every night, but it wears off by morning. Western type beds are the only answer.”

Dropping that, the conversation shifted to the weather.

“How does the building hold up in typhoons?” I asked.

“So far, so good,” Roy answered, “but the termites have got into it. See that window? It opens only 6 inches. The building is sagging. The window over there doesn’t open at all. We’re going to have to move out before the termites make the building fall on top of us.”

When one of the children interrupted dinner for that inevitable trip to the bathroom, I asked if they had a flush toilet.

“No,” was the answer. “just a local benjo.”

Later on, when coffee making time came around, Kimiko walked over to the single faucet, turned it on, but not a single drop of water came out.

“Oh, oh; no water,” she said. 

“I guess I’ll have to go out and turn the other catchment tank on,” Roy added.

I thought to myself how unnecessary this was. The American government has installed an integrated water system for Okinawa but these Americans cannot hook into it because of a shortage of funds. 

Then I thought of the scriptures, “And when one member suffer, all the members suffer with it...”(I Cor. 12:26) And I suffered all through the night.

Here were some wonderful Christian people, obviously doing a good job, but they were doing it under unnecessarily difficult conditions because Christians such as myself were not fulfilling our obligation to them. That’s why I’ve written this letter now.

In Christ Jesus,

James. W. Ney

English Consultant

*******

I think Dec. that year Daddy unloaded a truckload of Christmas presents from Stateside churches, and soon we found ourselves moving to a place called North Bayview Ojana, into a house made of concrete (we didn't have to play by plucking off the wings of termites infesting the woodwork anymore). And we had beds, running water, toilets that flushed, air conditioning! Our move was so fast, our bed frames hadn't arrived that first night. We slept on mattresses on the floor and watched the beautiful design the kerosene stove cast on our new house's CEMENT wall thanking God for such unexpected blessing.

Ojana kitchen, dining area 

OUTRIGGER-- We won't get that wet

I wonder whatever became of that article I wrote once about our outrigger ride. I'd written one quite a few years ago.

*****

The summer between my 9th and 10th grades, we took another furlough (went to the U.S. from Okinawa), so had a stopover in Hawaii. On our last day there--all our things had been packed and readied for our trip out to the mainland--my mother had been planning to have the family spend a restful, final day at home.

Her youngest sister came over with her daughter, wanting to take her nieces out for a last fun day at Waikiki. Mommy didn't like the idea.

"You want to go to the Beach? But they'll need a change of clothes, and everything's already been packed..."

"Oh, we won't get that wet, we'll just be walking around." Mommy let us go. Reluctantly, but she let us go.

Aunty Sally took us to Waikiki Beach, where tourists went outrigger surfing on the waves. Our Aunt, her daughter, Joyce, Janice, myself, and several beach boys all clambered aboard a long canoe, taking off our flip flops and tossing them in the bottom of the boat.

We sat, holding the paddles, carefully listening to the leader up front calling out when to paddle, when to change sides, when to lift paddles out of the water, and gradually moved the vessel out where the larger waves were and then let the water turn the boat around so we were facing the shore. 

In other words, most of us could not see the waves coming at us anymore; only the leader, who was facing the back, could. He let some other large waves go by, but seemed to want us to ride a REALLY BIG one.

"Here it comes--got your paddles ready?" he said. All of us felt excited. "NOW! Paddle!"

But I think it was a second too late. Or the wave was a little faster than we thought. Instead of riding in front of the wave, we found ourselves right under it. The leader could see it.

"IT'S GONNA BREAK!" we heard. SPLOOSH! When I opened my eyes, all of us were sitting in the canoe, floating about a foot...underwater? (I remember our chests, shoulders, heads were above water, but the boat we were sitting in was submerged!)

"I...am...SO SORRY," the leader was saying; "We've had an accident...These canoes are unsinkable; but they CAN flip over. Can you get out and hold onto the outriggers while some of us bail out the water?"

We did. Joyce not only got onto the back outrigger but stretched out her cheerleader's leg onto the outside float as well. I hear Janice hoisted herself up around that outrigger pole and was quietly quoting scripture.

Joyce and Janice were on the back rod, and I decided to cling to the front one with my Aunt and her daughter. She said later how Mommy had told her about my epilepsy. Altho' her own daughter was next to her, I was now in her safekeeping, and Aunty felt she could not face Mommy if she let anything happen to me. 

2 of the beach boys were constantly swimming around us, making sure we were all right; 2 others were constantly checking to make sure the canoe didn't capsize, and of course, 2 others continued to bail out the water until all of us could get back in and head back to shore, with relieved laughs and an unexpected souvenir story from Waikiki!

I suppose experienced writers would end the story here.  But I wanted to add some miscellaneous thoughts from that time:

the outrigger leader: some onlooking surfers jeered that the call was mis-timed, that the tourists would sue the beach!

Aunty Sally: "I told Kimiko I'd take her girls only walking around Waikiki, and I almost got them drowned!"

Janice giggling to cousin Lisa: "We're too wet for this to happen from just walking!" who replied, "Tell them we sweat a lot."

Joyce: (looking at her now-drenched watch) "I'd asked, just before the outrigger ride, if I needed to take this off, and I was told, 'Oh no; you won't get that wet.'"

MISS POWELL CAME

Ding Dong. "Miss Powell's at the door!" a high school memory revived while reading through what I'd written. This is another one of those behind-the-scene thingys that won't make the book...

Joyce during elementary

My sister Joyce began her musical career on the ivories of the pump organ while crawling around in our first Tonokura, Okinawa, wooden house--that former public bathhouse. She'd gone onto the regular piano and quickly learned to play both by sight and ear, easily transposing keys as necessary. We didn't realize how much raw musical talent God had endowed her with until our furlough years in the U.S. when, in a public high school music competition in Michigan, she was given a superior rating awarded only the top 40 students in the state, who were extended invitation to study at any state university completely free.

Joyce in 12th grade

We loved Oak Park High's head music teacher, Alice Powell. And she was excited that Joyce had done so well. But what was this--she heard students say Joyce was going to a Christian College down south? She made a special trip to the house to explain to Joyce's parents their daughter had offer of scholarships to any Michigan school; it must be they do not understand and are making their daughter attend a religious institution.

Joyce in university

It took a while, but Alice Powell heard that Joyce had decided it was "God's will" to "go to Bob Jones University" to train to become a missionary and told her parents that is where she wanted to go in the fall; they were not the ones making her go there! I think, by the time she left the house, she understood. At least, we maintained a very good relationship with Miss Powell. (In fact, I requested private piano with her the next year when we ended up extending our U.S. stay.)

Joyce as missionary

So Joyce went on to BJU and missions, and probably, the music department head marveled at such a waste of talent. Please don't get me wrong; I am not saying all scholarships must be rejected--by no means! God can provide through means of human grants but doesn't need them and can operate separately of them as well. I'm just relating what happened this time!

(It just hit me: but maybe this is why God made sure there were so many other financial blessings all through our college education...I think about them now...There were 3 of us in school, with not-rich missionary parents, yet when we graduated, we did not owe the school a single penny!)

FROM AN 11TH GRADE MEMORY

 "Mr. Giles, I think I got something in my eye..." a classmate started to say.

That's all he had to say. The chemistry teacher leaped into action as if someone had pressed a switch. He grabbed the student, without a word hauled him over to one of the counter sinks, then held him there face up under the running water--all within a few seconds.

Mr. Giles wasn't saying anything then, but his face was all desperation. That student had been using sulfuric acid. If it had gotten in his eye, he could go blind. MUST WASH IT ALL OUT! Other than the shuffle, bang, and sploosh, the classroom went completely silent. But after those words uttered by the student a few moments earlier, the place felt full with unspoken energy.

That student didn't lose his eye, to his relief and family's huge gratitude, thanks to the teacher's quick actions.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Last weekend, I "happened" to read about a boy born to African Christians, whose Japanese kanjis I'd chosen. That was 2, 3 years ago--I wondered how he was doing, praying lightly, "God, bless him."

Can you imagine how it made me feel when the very next Sunday afternoon, I heard how Tendo had had a situation earlier that week in the hospital he couldn't breathe and had required prayer? God had alerted me to pray...and all I had said was, "God, bless him"!

But it wasn't my prayer. All it took were a few words--like that chemistry student--and God did the rest. And Tendo didn't lose his life, much to his relief, his parents' gratitude, because of God's quick action. GREAT IS HIS FAITHFULNESS.

"He is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us" (Ephe. 3:20)