the shoe box and the baby grand

About ten years ago now, we packed up a few suitcases and moved to a foreign country. We arrived at night and drove for a few hours listening to broken English and our job being explained, while our eyes were hanging out of our heads with tiredness, trying to take in the new roles that we would fill, watching the lights of city homes packed up against each other as the drive went on and on.Finally our resting place was before us, a pre-war flat, two separate single futons on the floor, a few feet inside the front door. We crashed for the night, and waited until morning to take in our new home.

The whole entire one bedroom flat could fit inside the small loungeroom that we have now. The kitchen consisted of a tiny bench with a double gas cooker, squashed next to a gigantic laundry sized sink, and a bar fridge – no actual bench space. There was a tiny step up to the “dining room”, which was half filled with a small dining table (seriously, it filled half the room), a little bit of space to pull your chair out before you hit the cupboard. Sliding the paper walls along revealed the bedroom, which would only just fit in the futons. The toilet was a squat toilet, which had been westernised by putting a plastic seat on top of it – but when you tried to close the door it would hit your knees! And the shower … was outside … opening the frosted glass doors revealed a tiny backyard, about two metres square with a sort of demountable shower/bath room. And no running hot water! To have a shower we needed to go outside and turn on the gas flame under the bath to warm up the water (taking about fifteen minutes depending on the season) and the shower connected to the water from the bath. We boiled a kettle to do the washing up. When my sister and brother-in-law came to stay, they slept with their legs under the table. It was wall-to-wall futons. In the day we would fold up our bed and use it as our lounge.

I knew that Japan was crowded, but we were really surprised to be living in such small accommodation, ground level, with cockroaches! It wasn’t pretty, but it was cosy and easy to heat.

The best thing about living in such a cramped and dark home, was getting out! We walked in the snow on one of our first days there. We would go for amazing bike rides across the city, zooming down the riverside to all sorts of palaces and temples, mountain walks and ancient buildings. We met beautiful people everywhere we went. We loved to talk to Mrs Honda, an old lady in her purple tracksuit, purple shoes, purple hair and big shiny false teeth smile, who would speak to us every morning on our way to work, with her foreign country dialect that no one could understand. We had no choice, but to get out, to live, to explore, to make new friends, to meet new people and to go to new places.

One of my favourite things to do at night while Mark was teaching English was to go to the church and play the baby grand piano. If I had been comfy in my home, with lots of things to do and beautiful lounges to laze about on, I might never have learnt how to play or taken the opportunity to. Many nights were filled with playing music and learning a new skill.It was such a blessing to live in that home and to experience a different way of living. It forced us into the community, and it forced us to be thankful, it challenged our attitudes and character. I’m really glad that we lived there.

How many peacocks can you fit into a 4WD?

Our friends Jo and Steve Peacock took their 4 kids on an adventure around Australia for twelve months. We asked Jo to write something for the excess exchange. Thanks so much Jo! You guys are an inspiration.
                                            .....................
When our family of 6 took off on a year-long trip around Australia, we had an uncomfortably small space in which to cram our ‘stuff’. We each had a little underbed drawer in which to keep our clothes. For the whole year. This included jackets and warm stuff. Our 15-year-old daughter was a little disconcerted at the concept but managed to jam her small box with the clothes she needed. I downsized my kitchen requirements to an assortment of 4 pans, a colander and a grater. We simply could not fit anything else in. We also had a pantry not much bigger than an archive box. I found it alarming. How would I feed my big family? How would we survive?

It took 3 years for this ‘idea’ to become something that we confidently stepped out and actually did. 3 years of saving, planning, preparing and gathering the guts to walk away from life as we know it, if only for a year. We rented out our home, packed all of our ‘stuff’ into boxes and storage bags, and took only what we needed, only what would fit into our little camper trailer and our car.

We expected to see Australia, we expected to spend ALOT of time together, we expected our family to knit together like never before. What we didn’t expect was to discover the freedom that came from a life lived simply. We had so little, by choice, and yet in that bareness, that simplicity, we gained so much. It seemed as though all the ‘stuff’ in our lives had become noise, demanding a piece of our attention, creating mess and clutter, complicating family-life. When we drove away from that stuff with only the bare essentials, life as a family became so much simpler. We suddenly had the precious commodity of time. Time together. We started playing dorky card games, painting pictures together, going for random walks, collecting interesting artefacts from nature. We experienced peace among our children that hadn’t existed before. There really wasn’t anything to fight over.

Interestingly, there were no whines of “I’m bored” from our four kids, rather a hunger to create their own fun. They found rocks in a river bed to grind into different ochre colours to create paint, they found feathers on the ground and identified birds, they sat around with binoculars to watch the whales breaching, they assembled out the front of the tent to watch the sun set, they got up early to watch the sun rise. The created world became their playground and books became their downtime. We found a genuine contentment as the culture of ‘city life’ fell away. There was no pressure to have the right things, or to look a certain way. Contentment was easy.

Arriving back in civilisation hasn’t been what we expected. We have changed. We don’t fit like we used to. The thing that has become increasingly difficult the longer we have been back is to be ok with that. Are we prepared to continue to not quite fit? Our big home feels ridiculous and the boxes and boxes of ‘stuff’ are embarrassing. Were we so caught up in our ‘stuff’ that we didn’t even see the drain that it was on the fabric of our family? It was easy to create a new culture when we didn’t live in another, but can we maintain that now? I have already caught myself saying “what am i going to wear?” standing in front of a huge row of clothes in my wardrobe. My kids have gleefully unpacked their collection of a gazillion toys and have begun the process of arguing over their ‘stuff’. What a rare opportunity we have had to step back and see the possibilities of a life lived more simply, of a life focussed on relationships and discovery, rather than on acquisition and entertainment. I want the wide open spaces of time for meditation and long conversations. Time will tell. In the meantime I’m working on not quite fitting in.

Back to the heart

I guess this guy was hoping for a different answer -

“Someone out of the crowd said, "Teacher, order my brother to give me a fair share of the family inheritance."
He replied, "Mister, what makes you think it's any of my business to be a judge or mediator for you?"
Speaking to the people, he went on, "Take care! Protect yourself against the least bit of greed. Life is not defined by what you have, even when you have a lot."
Then he told them this story: "The farm of a certain rich man produced a terrific crop. He talked to himself: 'What can I do? My barn isn't big enough for this harvest.' Then he said, 'Here's what I'll do: I'll tear down my barns and build bigger ones. Then I'll gather in all my grain and goods, and I'll say to myself, Self, you've done well! You've got it made and can now retire. Take it easy and have the time of your life!'
"Just then God showed up and said, 'Fool! Tonight you die. And your barnful of goods—who gets it?'
"That's what happens when you fill your barn with Self and not with God."” Luke 12:13-21 (The Message)

Maybe the man was hoping that Jesus would agree with his fight for justice and take up his cause. Certainly Jesus is for social justice, but He is even more interested in the heart of a person.

One person may have felt for the man and fought for his rights, another may have said that he didn’t deserve it anyway. Jesus, knowing this man’s heart and indeed all hearts, warns him about greed and the dangers of prioritising possessions over having a heart that is right with God.

Your life will be defined by what you focus on most – what is your life defined by?

Need?

The advertising industry has really messed with our concept of the word need. In a very blessed country like ours often the needs we talk about are actually wants.

Looking at what others have makes us feel that we need it. Advertisers cleverly engage our desires such that we start to imagine that we would have difficulty living without that thing we’ve never had before. An ad that I particularly dislike at the moment has one young boy boasting about his family’s car over the fence to his young neighbour – yuck! Surely this is something ugly in our culture.

As a parent, my young kids regularly tell me what they ‘need’. It has made me even more suspicious of the word. I catch myself using the word quite liberally but I have started to try and flag it and ask, ‘Do I really need that?’ I don't think there’s anything essentially wrong with having things we don't need but a think it’s good for our hearts and our minds to challenge the assumption in our words.

I heard a great message at church recently by Rob De Martin, which challenged some of our culture’s assumptions about the way we think about and use our money. Rob said in the context of financial planning that, ‘Our needs tend to be exaggerated.’ Our idea of ‘need’ can really drive our hearts to selfishness, despair and even financial ruin.

Paul in the Bible said, ‘I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.’ Philippians 4:11-13

The secret is that we can choose contentment. If we imagine that it is something that will fly in the window and land on our shoulder sometime we will be waiting forever. We have the choice to question our idea of ‘need’, and decide to be content. I know that I will surely keep catching myself saying the word, and hopefully keep learning how to choose contentment.

the limits of me

I believe that in every human heart there is the desire to love and to be loved, there is the desire in each of us to make the world a better place, we wish that life was better, we wish that there wasn't sorrow and disease and heartache. For some this stirs up a desire to do something, to change something, to achieve something significant, to help others, to share what we have or what we know. Others look inward and try to fill the hole in their own heart, before being able to think of the needs of others. Some give up all hope of being able to change anything. Maybe you've been in all of these places, I have.
Something that has dawned on me is how limited we all are in our own strength, with our own ideas, with our time and our resources, and our energy. 
Together, we can do so much more. But even then, we are limited in what we can achieve.
Even Jesus needed something more. Before he started his work, he was baptised and the Spirit of God came upon him. His first public speech was as follows:

^"16 He went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. He stood up to read, ¹⁷ and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. Unrolling it, he found the place where it is written:
   ¹⁸ “The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
   because he has anointed me
   to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
   and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
   ¹⁹ to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”^[a]
 20 Then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him. ²¹ He began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”
Jesus had a big list of things to do too. The power he had to do them with was by "the spirit of the Lord". It's actually God's world. He loves it. He loves the people. He wants to see the same things happen in the world that we do, thats because he actually put that desire in our hearts, and it's actually his plan to start with. 
Its only by His Spirit that we can do those things that we really desire to do in the world. 

Here's a link to a song about how powerful God is ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u3L-GAsaITM

Interview with Jessi

We interviewed our friend Jessi, a year 11 student. Recently, and in spite of adversity, she has made some great choices to focus on others. I asked Jessi a few questions about her very first trip to the developing world.

Why did you want to go to India?
Being a regular, devoted Imagine Nations church attendee, monthly we have our missions Sunday which gives insight to the church, our missions offering giving and the work which is being done all across the nations. In hearing about missions in our school and how it links to our church, I challenged myself to think what it would be like to be a missionary. Whilst battling with my own insecurities and selfishness, with the strength of God pushing me towards doing so, I applied to jet set off to India. Since first thinking of going to India, to applying to go, to actually going, it was a growth process. I had some friends and family members in which I told of my decision to go to India as a missionary who judged upon the fact of my past rebellion to this spontaneous act. At times it brought me down but with God alongside, I made it through.

What did you give up to go there?
I’m currently a full time year 11 student, who also has a part time job. Weekends I work at KFC and when I can would see my friends whilst during the week I‘d dedicate my time to studies. I had been at KFC for a year upon application for India and never found a real want or must to spend the money I earned. I gave up my self centred -ness and gained the long want for the heart of God. After my first few deposits, I began to feel a loss and suddenly a want to spend my money on perishable things. It wasn’t long after though that I realised what had been consuming me, the sneaky attack of the enemy trying to steal my joy. I prayed and was instantly renewed with a generous spirit.

How did the trip change you? What did you receive in your life by going?
My first sign of change was seen internally. I noticed my prayers weren’t about me and protection only of those close to me, but also of those I had not even met yet. Until I met the residents of Jaipur and those from the Helping Hands School, I clearly saw the need for such prayer dedication. Every day was a new challenge. In comparison to the waking smell of coffee in the morning, I woke to the smell of polluted air and the smell of erupted sewers. The smell was quite confronting. Helping the kids in the school and seeing what joy they have, strikes me to think of their conditions. They live in absolute poverty and yet they’re the most bright, beautiful, most joyful people you’ll ever meet still managing to smile considering their circumstances. In challenging myself with that thought, I thought back to my life situation 10 months before my time in India. I was going through a hard time in my life with rejection, isolation and despair. My situation is quite common to those in countries like America and Australia, but in contrast to these poor little girls and boys who don’t even know their parents, who don’t have their own pillow to cry into, who don’t even have tissues to wipe their tears, gave me strength and courage to move on from my hurt. I asked Jesus to take it and replace it with peace and a heart for the lost and in that moment of prayer, my eyes were finally opened and fixed to the need of others rather than of me. I received a stronger, more stable relationship with Jesus and a lifetime experience which will always be referred to as a life changing testimony.

Jessi did something significant which redefined her life. Have you ever done something like that? Is there something you'd really like to do?

Thanks Jessi for sharing your story with us!

Dream House II & III

(The link to Dream House I is here
http://notwant.blogspot.com/2011/01/dream-house-i.html)

Dream House II

It was completely jarring to feel such relief at seeing my kids smiling widely and yet to feel so awkward about them being so close to these kids that I didn’t know. Sure their smiles were endearing but their clothing, their hair, and their faces were less than clean.

My kids couldn’t understand their new friends but they were playing happily together with some kind of wooden puppet. One young man, perhaps twelve or thirteen years old, was obviously a bit of an organiser. He seemed to be gathering a crowd just below the back of our deck.

My wife appeared at the back door – half asleep and half in shock. We met side-by-side as we watched our children, she restrained herself from ordering the kids back inside as she noticed the ease at which they played with the local children.
At the orders of the organiser, a few children – some with long drums, some with puppets, and girls in dress costumes came up to the deck and assembled themselves for an impromptu performance. We were treated to an amazing performance, the children were quite skilled and they were obviously enjoying themselves immensely to have such a stage and a crowd in their own community. The colours weren’t quite the same as a Bollywood movie but the life and the energy were the same.

As the performance finished some of the key performers gave puppets to our own children. My wife and I were quietly shocked at the generosity but didn’t interfere as these experiences washed over us. I was very glad that my kids were so emphatic in their thanks and even tried some makeshift bows to show their gratitude. A spark of an idea in our oldest son quickly became a request whispered into our ears. And we were more than happy to go along with it.

We were so used to our kids’ more unattractive tones complaining about hunger and whinging for snacks, now they were busy gathering lollies and biscuits and all the leftover snacks from Christmas and bringing them out to share with everyone.

Now a middle-aged woman was moving determinedly through the crowd followed closely by the young organiser. I started to wonder about all the possible things she could be angry about.

Dream House III

I was beginning to wonder what this was all about, why this was happening. The woman spoke with the authority that all mothers have. Even without translation I knew I was to follow. I surprised myself by just going along with it as I slipped on some sandals and walked down our back steps.

The young organiser identified himself as Sanjiv. He spoke simple English clearly and confidently. He explained that we were walking to the house of a man who was very sick. Sanjiv apologised that he didn’t know the words to describe the injury beyond, ‘arm’ and ‘bad’.

We walked through alleys about one and a half people wide as we dodged the open drains. Finally we stopped and stepped inside a small concrete room. We went through and into another smaller room at the back. It was almost completely dark. A man lay next to the wall, he was obviously in pain. Another young man stepped into the room carrying a light globe which he deftly attached to the makeshift wiring on the ceiling.

The light revealed a wound that covered most of the man’s right arm. The flesh could be seen, pink and red. The movement on the surface was the tiny worms that were slowly consuming him. It was entirely disgusting. I wanted to vomit. I had never even seen anything like it. I hastily and whole-heartedly started to make it clear that I wasn’t a doctor.

Sanjiv began to translate for the woman. They were very sorry but they were even more desperate. They hoped that I might have some money so that Mukesh could be treated at a hospital. I learned that without having the money up front and purchasing the medicines and bandages yourself, the hospital did not have any means to treat you.

Mukesh’s brother took what I thought was a small amount of money and took him to the closest hospital. I was still dazed. I still felt quite overwhelmed by what I was seeing.

Now the woman had another request but this time I had no idea what it was she was asking. Sanjiv smiled and explained that she would like me to bring my family back to share lunch with her family.

There was no way that I wanted to expose my family to the kind of risks that such a lack of hygiene can bring.