I never imagined a big adventure awaited me in my 30’s with four kids and a husband. When Loren brought up the idea of moving our family to Japan, it took little convincing to get me on board. We have spent these past two years in Japan 100% invested, holding back no piece of our hearts and little sentiment of the things left behind. Our ties to Japan run deep, it is the birthplace of many new dreams and exciting adventures.
And now we have to say goodbye.
As we prepare our hearts and our home for departure, we mourn and also marvel at this journey. We are so grateful for our time here, and we hold onto the hope that this is not the end, but only the beginning of a new path that God has set us apart for. I wanted to share this letter with you that I wrote to Japan, a place that stretched us beyond our limits. A place where God filled in the millions of gaps that our shortcomings created. A place that made us vulnerable and strong, alive and exhausted all at the same time.
Dear Japan,
When I first met you, you were very unassuming. Through countryside and cityscapes, a lot of your scenery looked the same— modern buildings mixed with traditional structures, all compact and tidy. A lot of your people looked the same—put together, head down minding their own business. Over the course of the next ten days, I came to realize how different you were from any other place I had met before. I found myself eating rice and fish for breakfast, and feeling like a child again as I had no idea how to read your signs or communicate a sentence in your language. My husband and I spent some time in Kyoto, and then in Izu. I began to see how much you had to offer, and I was ready to trust my heart and my family to you.
From the moment our family arrived on your soil, we fully embraced your culture. We easily looked past differences, fascinated by our new surroundings. We felt secure in the safety of your society. My kids and I could walk the neighborhood without fear. And even though it took a while, your people began to open up and befriend us. We lived life among your people. I observed the quiet determination in the eyes of every mother, working hard to do it all right. I saw the fathers coming home late from the train station after an extremely long day at work. We visited people in their homes and observed their way of life. I made myself familiar with new ingredients at the grocery store. My girls courageously went off to school every morning to a building where close to no one spoke their native language, to slowly learn yours. We got to know our neighbors and became regular visitors to the local park. My kids spoke to your kids in Japanese as they played なわとび (jump rope) and 鬼ごっこ (tag). We tasted all the snacks at Lawson Station, and attended your local church. We visited every city and prefecture we possibly could. We learned the joys of Ghibli and mochi.
But I need to tell you, that despite being fully immersed into your culture, we still feel like outsiders. I feel your scrutiny towards our differences, and sometimes you make me uncomfortable with your strict rules and high standards. Your patriarchal society, at times, leaves me feeling inferior and demeaned. You taught me a lot about intolerance and how quiet and subtle racism and discrimination can be. In Japan, everyone longs to fit in and not stand out, but we cannot hide.
You kept me on my toes, allowing for little rest. You worked me hard everyday, washing dishes and hanging laundry outside to dry. You worked the girls hard, day in and day out with Japanese homework and lessons in cultural awareness. Learning your language has taught me how far my mind can stretch, as I attempted to wrap it around the deep meanings behind every nuance of Japanese. Our family now has a greater sense of its abilities and limitations. I have learned to lean in closer to my God, because living here would have been impossible on my own. He is omnipotent, and every day he made the impossible possible.
I have observed your people’s spiritual practices, visiting shrines and temples that held great beauty and rich culture. I greatly admire their loyalty to upholding your ancient traditions, and their steady reverence for the things you hold sacred. After learning more through talking with friends and acquaintances, it seems to me that the people of Japan believe in nothing and everything at the same time. Luck and chance predict a lot of their future, and because of this I do not take my relationship with Jesus for granted, thankful that my life is driven by purpose.
The memories you gave to us will be kept in our hearts like a million tiny treasures. Venturing your many parks, tasting ocean water for the first time, bathing in the best bathtubs, surviving typhoons, making new friends, attending summer festivals, eating obento, and learning to pee standing up over an Eastern toilet.
We will never forget snorkeling in the warm, clear oceans of Okinawa and catching sea cucumbers. Watching a two hour-long firework show blast over the tops of a castle roof while eating a candy-coated apple. Crossing gorges on a foot bridge over a sapphire river. Scaling mountains in a gondola and walking the snow caps in rain boots. Catching silver fish with our hands in your rivers and roasting them over a fire for lunch. Visiting Nara park in the peak heat of summer and getting attacked by its sacred deer, then viewing in awe a gigantic 50 foot bronzed buddha. Watching female ama divers in their element diving for shellfish, then crossing that same ocean on a paddle board. Sitting under the stars in a hot onsen hot spring bath, being serenaded by the ocean waves.
We will cherish the hours spent hiking waterfalls, forests, volcanoes, and sea cliffs. Skiing down beautiful mountain tops. Dressing in kimono and walking through your tall orange tori gates. Climbing into lava caves and admiring Mt. Fuji from all sides and angles. Visiting the highest building in Japan and looking out over the endless city. Getting packed into a train, our bodies smashed together, as we attempted sightseeing around Tokyo. Being amazed by one of the world’s largest, cleanest, and safest cities. Seeing, smelling, and tasting delicate sakura blossoms, their fragile petals showering down on us with every passing breeze.
Our food journey has been equally as memorable. The joys of eating in season, and the simplicity of 和食 (Japanese cuisine) like udon and sushi. The experience of eating octopus, squid, raw abalone, giant tuna cheek, crab brains, cow tongue, raw chicken, cod fish sperm, sweet bean soup, fried blowfish, whale bacon, and horse sashimi.
I have also enjoyed the moments when our two cultures meshed together, like the time we ate Taco Bell in Tokyo and when Santa visited the girls at church. Or the time when we cooked Thanksgiving dinner for a crowd that had never eaten turkey before. For the older two girls, memories of America continued to linger during our time here, and they vividly remembered not having homework or class chores in elementary school. They felt the weight of being the new kids on the block, and we are thankful for your effort to make us feel at home. We are also thankful for kind friends and neighbors who offered helping hands and kind words, who pushed themselves to reach out.
It has been a whirlwind of new experiences, and the amount of things we have learned these past two years are innumerable. We are forever changed. I hope that we can meet again soon, we will never forget you.
Heather
As we prepare to leave Japan and enter a new chapter, please pray for our family. We are expecting a new baby in July, and we have a lot of transition ahead. As always, thank you for reading!