Snowy morning

This is the place for snow! Sapporo gets lots of snow because it's near the ocean, but it actually doesn't get as cold as it does in other places in Hokkaido (like Kushiro on the eastern coast). Snow starts falling in October or November and keeps falling until April or even May, when it finally starts to melt. This is my first winter in Sapporo, so we'll see how it goes! So far I LOVE the snow!




Winter in Sapporo is something to behold. Snow can fall fast and furious for a few minutes or all night, leaving blankets of white that cover everything - trees, plants, sidewalks, roads - leaving them all but indistinguishable.


A modern tool for getting traffic through busy roads is this road-heating system. Metal coils are buried below the asphalt, and when activated, they heat up and melt the ice and snow off the roads. They're remarkable! Everywhere you look the roads are covered with white, but then sometimes you'll see a long black strip of slush and melted snow, doing its job to uncover the road. They're expensive, so they're only used on major roads. But to see this is like a dream come true. You know those things you say, "What if somebody made a..."? Well, this is one of them. And it really works!


It's cold out! Many Japanese ladies use these warm tea-cup shaped hats in the snow and cold. For the younger girls, though, it's not very hip... so you don't see as many of them wearing them. They usually just stand there and let snow fall on them (as I do on occasion, when I don't want my hair messed up).


I'm waiting at the bus stop to go to church on a cold, cold morning. Don't go out with your hair damp - it'll freeze! I know this from experience... The bus stops are generally tiled little buildings like this one. They keep out some of the wind, but not much else, as they have open windows and doors - and they're colder than your freezing brain can imagine inside. Usually we just huddle inside (unless it stinks from trash, which people actually do throw in the bins) or just from old age.


Heidi, being accustomed to Montana snows, is used to the cold.


Can you believe people actually drive in this? The roads are heavily laden with salt, and the main roads use road-heaters. Drivers of buses and cars often use chains, but the undercarriages get VERY dirty, as you can imagine. The funny thing is that the road gets completely covered by snow until it's indistinguishable, and then it sort of hardens into a hard, compacted layer of multiple snowings and icings and meltings. The new snow falls on top of it, and no one stops - or is more worse for the wear.


A street crossing button all laden with snow. When you press it to stop traffic and clear the crossing, you'll hear a distinctly Japanese "chirp-chirp" sound that sounds like a pretty good rendition of an electronic bird call.


Riding a bus! This is something we do every day, but they're usually more crowded than this! Today is Sunday, which is why the bus is nearly empty. The red, lighted characters in the front tell the upcoming stops (which are also announced verbally by a recording in a nice-sounding, high-pitched woman's voice) and the price. To pay, you take a slip of paper with a number on it when you enter the bus. DON'T LOSE IT! When you leave, you hand the driver the ticket and pay according to the time/distance you were on the bus. Your coins go into a machine, and out drops your change. Then you thank the bus driver (who wears a dark blue uniform, cap, and white gloves) politely ("Arigatou gozaimashita") and then go down the steps - carefully! they are slick from melted snow! - and into the cold. Oh, and the buses are heated (notice the steam on the windows).

Notice that the bus driver is on the RIGHT!

Stopping by woods on a snowy evening

I have seen lovely things and lovely places, but I have never been so moved by raw natural beauty as I have these past two or three days in Sapporo.

For the first time in my life I actually wanted to weep at the sight of snow on trees from a frosty bus window.

I felt tears welling up as I watched the trees glide by, snow whirling like white rose petals, everything coated with a brilliant, deep, whitest-of-all-whites. The stark contrast of light and dark was almost more beautiful than I could bear.

The mountains, hushed and powdered in layers of white... the brooding grey sky stretching from horizon to horizon, snow falling like a veil over the whitening ground... trees dressed in veils like lace, pines and tamarasks frosted like Christmas cookies... the gentle silence that descends on the fields and roadsides like angels...

Winter in northern Japan.

Snow falling giddily, dizzily, joyfully in a blur of happy flakes, light as goose down.

I would be a snowflake if I could.

The tears surprised me. I have no explanation, except the overpowering thought that kept pushing its way into my mind: It's not fair that I should get to experience this beauty without the rest of the world!

God, why are you so good to me? I am more blessed than I can sing or write or shout. To think that I, the chief of sinners, should find myself by a silent mountainside with snow lacing the tree branches like satin wedding ribbons, confetti falling in a exuberant parade around my face.

I remember the words of a missionary to India years ago: "What an amazing Christ! He never seeks for our approval, just the faith to know that He is at work... To put one's life into His hands is not to be led astray."

Praise God--what an amazing Christ! I see this clearly: "O Lord God Almighty, blessed is the man who puts his trust in you!" (Psalm 84:12).

Tonight Heidi and walked downtown with snow pouring around us, flakes on our noses and eyelashes dappling our hair like blossoms, our cheeks pink and lungs full of cold, invigorating air. The trees along the main street were hung with garlands of white lights, shining ivory against their delicate stripes of snow. The city streets were silver and gold.

Sapporo's White Illumination displays glimmered in the thick falling snow: a bright white Christmas tree, giant lilys-of-the-valley drooping pale blooms, colored flowers.

And here am I, with Heidi as my roommate and my eternity in heaven, an unworthy and yet dearly-loved tool in the hand of God, privileged to know His only Son and chosen to reach the precious Japanese people.

All of this plus the glory of a snowfall in northern Japan.

No wonder the tears well up in my eyes.

Oh, God, may I never doubt again. For blessed, BLESSED is the man who puts his trust in you!

Snow!

Beautiful Things

It's late at night, after midnight, but I can't sleep until I write this last little note.

I saw three beautiful things today. The first two I saw as I walked down to a local mall to meet my friend Mariko, a friend from our college days in North Carolina. There was snow and ice on the sidewalks with a thin layer of fresh powder lying soft on top. My boots crunched like a whisper through the snow. I love winter.

I looked up, and there it was - a cobalt blue sky with white flakes whirling against it, so lovely it took my breath away.

Then as I turned the corner past a lonely schoolyard, I saw the moon. It was almost full, round and bright, ducking in and out of a swirl of thick, puffy clouds - deep stone grey, lined with fine, bright silver. The moon over snow. White over white. Snowfall at dusk. Has the color white ever been so beautiful?

And then, in the car after dinner with Mariko at her home (an unusual thing in Japan), she asked me suddenly, "Do you think you'll go to a Christmas service at your church?"

"Yes, I hope so," I replied.

"Good," she said. "Can I go, too? I mean, if it's not any trouble?"

I was dumbfounded but managed to answer a resounding yes! Yes! Yes!

There was more.

"I think about Buddhism and Christianity sometimes, and I'm a lot more comfortable with Christianity than Buddhism," she said as we passed by the same park, now black and grey, where I had seen the moon. "I feel so good when I do Christian things. But I want to know more before I make up my mind, because it's a really important decision. And," there was a pause as we turned the corner, "I'd really like to meet some Japanese Christians. I've never met Japanese Christians before. Maybe I could meet some if I go to church with you at Christmas, and then I could see how they do things."

We were at the apartment now, and I was shaking with excitement. I could feel my face getting red with joy in the dark of the car.

"Do you have a Japanese Bible?" I asked her.

"Yes," she said, with another pause. "But I don't really understand it."

"I have some Japanese and English Bibles and some Bibles in Manga," I told her. "And the Jesus film. Would you like to see any of those?"

"Oh, yes," she said, with more enthusiasm than politeness. "Maybe they will help me understand better."

It's after midnight now. There is no more blue left in the sky, and the moon is gone. But I have just witnessed, in one evening, more beauty than one small heart can hold.

*Please pray for Mariko, who is so earnestly searching for the truth. She is so pretty and so lonely, wondering what to do with the rest of her life. God brought her all the way to North Carolina to hear the gospel, and now He has caused our paths to cross again. What an amazing Father we have... Oh, please pray that Mariko would soon find that He is her Father, too! Pray that she will open her heart to God and experience more beauty in His presence than in a thousand moons over snow.

Surprise!

As soon as I woke up this morning I knew something was different. It was QUIET. A strange sort of quiet - muffled, soft, distant. I jumped out of bed and ran to the window, and sure enough, the first SNOWFALL!!! (I think I would be slightly more excited if I had found boots already... but snow is snow, and there's a thrill that I hope always goes along with it).

It's falling now, in almost absolute silence, in big flakes past the window, cascading and whirling like a giant waterfall. The ground is coated white, the coppery-orange trees left over from fall are frosted. Grey falls against grey in the sky like tufts of goose down. A whirl of white confetti; a tickertape parade from our balcony.

And even now - silence.

Beautiful and still.

Please pray with me for Japan and for Sapporo. Blanket this area with your prayers the way the snow falls - gently and persistently, filling in the holes and corners until all is clean and fresh and new.

*Pray for the nine junior college girls planning to come to our apartment and eat tacos tonight! Pray that they would see Christ displayed so greatly in us that they would want Him for themselves. Some names are Yuuka, Noriko, Maki, and Aki.

*Pray for Yuriko, my new friend from the nearby university. She met Amiko, a Christian friend of mine at the same university, and the match was a success. Apparently Yuriko's boyfriend has a Christian grandfather, and Amiko says she's a little interested in Christianity. But she does not want to be pushed. Pray that the Holy Spirit would speak so gently and softly, as the snow falling outside, that she will not be afraid to commit her life to Christ.

*Pray for Heidi's work with about seven apartment women and nine children who come over to learn English each week.

*Pray, on this Sunday, for a revival to take place in Japan's churches - especially those here in Sapporo. Pray that they would be havens of hope and healing, places of truth, and places to which young people are drawn.

*Pray for the seven junior college English club students planning to come over for tacos (one of the biggest ministry tools yet! And we get to eat the evidence!! :) this coming Thursday. I really love these students. Pray hard for them: Kumi, Minoru, Ayumi, Ayako, Mana, Mari and Asami. All but Mana heard the gospel presentation at Korean Night.

The snow is still falling in diagonal slants outside the window.

Pray, pray for the peace of God in Sapporo.

love,
jenny

An Undiscovered Treasure?

This letter is dedicated to my friend Mr. Kenji Miwa, a faithful Christian and Gideon in Saitama who prayed for me to come to Japan as a missionary...

---

Most of you have probably heard about the "greying of Japan," where the population of elderly Japanese is swelling far above the rest. People are having fewer babies these days, and the Japanese life span is increasing, so nursing homes, golf clubs and retirement facilities are full to overflowing with elderly Japanese.

Now put those statistics aside and witness a small miracle with me, right here on the windy streets of Sapporo...

My friend Barb, a missionary with another evangelical denomination, was getting ready to go back to America when she pulled me aside.

"You're like me," she said. "You're energetic, talk a lot, love to laugh. I think you'd be great with my best friends here in Sapporo. Only one of them is a Christian even though they've been studying English at our church."

So I went with Barb to meet the group - expecting college students, young people, made to match bouncy Barb - and instead I found a group of retired Japanese seniors, the youngest one being probably in his late 50s. Talk about a shock! As we sat around the table eating yakiniku (Japanese barbecued lamb and vegetables), I was even more shocked by their life and exuberance.

Yoshie is a mountain climber who climbed the Himalayas about two years ago.

Mr. Horimoto, probably in his 70s, made Japanese jokes and taught me how to punch the plastic bag around the napkin so it made a loud, "POW!" and startled the tables around us.

Keiko kept filling up my plate with meat and ordering Korean rice, all the while speaking perfect, beautiful English.

And Ken, the lone Christian, watched over everything like a wise old owl and printed up a special sheet with grammatically horrible Hokkaido slang ("for you to practice," he said with a laugh).

With Barb leaving, they wanted a new English teacher - so badly that they agreed to meet me on MY schedule, at MY apartment (all the way across town), and even study the Bible. Ken smiled. The women grumbled but agreed. "If that's the only way we can learn English," they said. "Only once a month. And only for 20 minutes." Mr. Horimoto just nodded and popped another plastic napkin bag.

So two Wednesdays ago I was scrambling to set up a space in the living room when the doorbell rang. In piled the four seniors, all laughing, all rowdy, with TWO OTHER WOMEN of the same age. They were toting coffee, a coffee maker, Ken's printed sheets about the "English club," and cameras.

I am not an English teacher by nature, not even an English Bible teacher, so with much prayer and trepidation I pulled out a stack of red Gideon Japanese-English New Testaments given by my dear friend Mr. Kenji (also in his 70s).

"This man gave me these Bibles to give to my friends," I told them, pulling Mr. Kenji's picture off my bulletin board.

That grabbed their interest in a heartbeat. They passed around Mr. Kenji's picture lovingly, speaking Japanese in low tones. "Wow," they were saying. "That was so nice of him."

Keiko asked in Japanese, "Is he a Christian?"

"Yes, he is," I replied, and told them Mr. Kenji's testimony. They were impressed, moved. They nodded and passed his picture around again. "Please tell him thank you for the Bibles," one of the women said, and everyone agreed.

When they picked up the Bibles this time, they handled them carefully.

Then it came, out of nowhere.

"So how did you become a Christian?" Keiko asked. All eyes fastened on me.

I told them my whole story - how I became a Christian, why I decided to come to Japan. Ken translated everything as they listened with rapt attention. "That's wonderful," they were saying in Japanese. I spoke for 15 minutes, and no one interrupted me. No one changed the subject.

When I picked up the Bible to explain to them what it was, they picked up theirs.

"This is the New Testament," I explained. "This is the story of Jesus' life and letters written by early church leaders."

Again - surprise. Light bulbs coming on in their heads. (Had no one ever explained to them the Bible before?)

I explained the difference between the Old and New Testaments, using a Japanese Bible for reference, and told them about the books in the New Testament.

"That's not hard!" one of them said in surprise as we paged through the Bible.

A huge mental wall just crumbled and fell. And I saw it. So many Japanese are afraid of the Bible, intimidated by the big words and formal Japanese. I hear an ancient Ethiopian whispering, "But how can I understand unless someone explains it to me?"

No Bible degree, no teacher's license - and here I am, witnessing a miracle just by being a Christian and telling what I know.

(Is it really that simple?)

I told them it was okay to write notes in the margins or underline parts, and every single one of them grabbed their pencils and made notes on the contents page: "Jesus' friends," one wrote by "Matthew, Mark, Luke and John."

"Let's try reading a couple of verses," I said, and showed them how to find books, chapters and verses.

We turned to 1 Corinthians 13 about love and began to read - first in English, then in Japanese.

Awed silence. People put on their glasses and looked closer, reading again silently, lips moving.

"Good words, good words!" they were saying in Japanese. "Wow! Amazing! I love this!"

"I love these words!" Keiko exclaimed to me in English.

Mr. Horimoto drew a big box around the verses in his Bible. And as we talked the next hour, he kept reading.

After discussing the Bible another half hour, I had to actually turn the conversation to the class so I would be remembered as keeping my word.

When the class ended, the women cleaned up the coffee maker and washed all the dishes (even the old ones I had left in the sink!) When I protested, they pushed me out of the kitchen. "We're housewives!" they said. "We're good at this!"

After eating hot bowls of ramen at a nearby restaurant, they dropped me back off at the apartment to meet again in two weeks. I spent the rest of the day in wonder... feeling like I had just stepped into something big. REALLY big.

This morning was the second class, and just like before, the doorbell sounded as I was putting coffee cups on the table.

Two of the members couldn't come today, but they'll be here next week, they assured me.

I prayed for another miracle as I spread Japanese zabuton pillows on the floor, everyone talking at the same time. Ken pulled out immaculate, alphabetized copies of new Hokkaido slang definitions for me. Keiko attacked the coffee maker. Everyone got out their red Gideon testaments.

(Wait a minute - didn't they only want to study the Bible once a month? And for 20 minutes only...?)

Then Keiko spotted our English children's Bible, with LARGE TYPE (why didn't I think of this before?) and we spent the REST OF THE CLASS PLUS 30 MINUTES OVERTIME reading from the children's Bible as Ken translated.

We practiced looking up verses in the Gideon testament - even had a race to see who could find 1 Thessalonians 5:16 first. Keiko won. She read it in English (twice) and in Japanese.

Yoshie washed all the dishes before I could protest, everyone gathered money for me to buy two new children's Bibles (one in English, one in Japanese) for class use only. Ken produced perfectly typed directions and a map for us to meet this Saturday (we're climbing Mount Moiwa!).

And when they left, as left time, I sat in the quiet of the room and marveled at the way God works.

I heard a soft whisper, "How can I understand unless someone explains it to me?"

Dear Ethiopian, I hear your words!

I pray that these precious seniors may let me come near to their chariots and lovingly turn the pages of their Bibles, showing them what it means to be a Christian, to be loved, comforted and convicted from these pages of God's word, to know the promise of abundant life, eternal life, and the One called "The LIFE."

Oh, how I pray I may bend my ear and hear the same words spoken to Philip from beautiful bronze lips: "Look, here is water! Why shouldn't I be baptized?"

The "greying of Japan" indeed... if these seniors, with their energy, time and resources could be changed by the Spirit of God, what a mission field is waiting for them in their own backyard.

Pray with me that the "grey" of Japan may turn to silver, "shining like stars as (they) hold out the Word of Life..." (Philippians 2:15).

And may we join the Ethiopian who went on his way "REJOICING"!

PRAY for the six members of the English club: Ken (a believer), Mr. Horimoto, Keiko, Yoshie, Etsuko and another lady with a really hard name.
PRAY for older believers like Mr. Kenji who have an unparalleled opportunity to witness to Japanese seniors.
PRAY for the elderly of Japan, that churches would be started among them and they would set a magnificent example for younger Japanese, children, and grandchildren - that entire generations may follow in their footsteps. Because the elderly are respected and revered in Japan, seniors (like Mr. Kenji) receive a special standing, and their testimonies carry a lot of weight. Pray for a special blessing on these seniors!



Q: How many seniors can you fit in an apartment elevator?
A: Six, plus one young whipper-snapper. :)

Here are their names so you can (PLEASE!) pray: From left to right - Etsuko, Yoshie, Mr. Horimoto, Ken, and the lady with the hard name. Keiko was standing beside me, so she didn't show up. But she was there. Did I mention Keiko brought a coffee maker called "Carioca?" (I know, I know - all the Brazilians out there reading this are getting excited. If you want to know about "cariocas," ask a Brazilian. :)



And last but not least, here is Mr. Kenji's picture so you can pray for him...