Ana says, “Konnichi Wa!”
We continue to unpack and settle in here in Okinawa. Wes has had a lot of meetings for the Franklin Graham festival, and that, together with time in the office and preparation time, has left me to set up our house. The parsonage is incredible. One of the church members found some additional pieces of furniture that we needed (six pieces for $6 total!), and we’ve moved them upstairs. I found a “100 yen” store (that would be the Japanese dollar store) and somehow spent twenty dollars on picture frames. Nothing says home like giant pictures of Ana staring at you from every angle of every room!
Island exploration also continues for us. We found two — not one, TWO! — Toys R’ Us stores in the process. Santa Claus has already gotten something really, really cool for Ana. (It was on clearance, there was just one left… could we really have walked away without it?) Wes and I also found a Mexican food restaurant, where salsa is free but chips cost $3… and they only give you eight. (!!!) The enchiladas are cheap and taste great, though, so we can’t complain.
While unpacking all of our clothing, I made the disturbing discovery that Wes owns approximately forty-one dress shirts. FORTY-ONE! And I know this because I’ve had to iron every single one of them. What’s even more disturbing is that I know there are a couple of boxes coming to us that have MORE dress shirts packed in them. But most disturbing of all? He wears the same five over and over again. Why settle for the same five when you have thirty-six others to choose from!?! (In other clothing news, yours truly can finally fit back into her skinny jeans. Yeah, after three months of working that baby weight off, you can bet that I’ll think twice about gaining fifty pounds with the next kiddo!)
Life lately has been all about making a home. We don’t own the house, we don’t own the cars, we don’t own much of anything (except a whole lot of dress shirts), and we don’t know many of the people who will be such a big part of our home here in Okinawa. At one time, the thought of all of this made me really sad. I was completely sold on the idea of forsaking everything to serve God while in Namibia, but somwhere in the three years between now and then, I began to think that life is about taking care of myself… and serving Him on the side. I’m not advocating irresponsible living, and I’m not saying that home ownership reflects a lack of faith. (Quite the contrary. I’ve heard enough about mortgages to know that entering into one requires more faith than parting a sea!) I just marvel at how my perspective has changed back now that we’re here, how home… is trusting His provision and rejoicing that life, when lived to its fullest, is all about serving Him.
We’ll keep you updated…