This is my first winter in Japan. "WHAT? You've been in Japan for 13 years, have you not?" Yes, yes I have. But you have to understand that the first 11 were spent in Okinawa, where "winter" consists of wearing a sweater and having to put your hands in your pockets to keep them warm. For a week. At the most. And Hokkaido, well, that is REAL winter, but not REAL Japan.
What I mean is, Japan has a different approach to winter than Okinawa, than Hokkaido, than perhaps the rest of the world. When it gets cold, they do not believe in heating the whole house. They believe in heating the whole body.
So they have all these special "indoor use" sweaters, pants, jackets, slippers, lap blankets, and so on. It has been quite hard for me to adjust to. For thirty-six winters, I have been able to find refuge from the cold in my apartment or home. This is the first time I have walked into a cold home and simply left my jacket on, or kept a pair of mittens nearby.
Yes, they have heaters in their homes, but they tend not to use them as often as we would in the west. And especially in the wake of the earthquake/tsunami disaster up north, people are more conscious of energy consumption. There is something called "setsuden" going on in Japan, both in the summer and winter, which is a conscious effort to cut down on electricity consumption.
A wonderful idea, and very "green" and noble of the Japanese. But does that mean I have to like it? Should I feel guilty for wanting to walk around my apartment without five layers of clothing on? What do you all do to beat the winter colds and blues?
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
Random Thoughts and News
-- I think I am getting old. But I am still in denial of this reality. My body is breaking down in weird places and for strange reasons. I do not think either of my two current ailments can be attributed to the aging process, but I could be wrong. I'm too young to know any better!
A couple of weeks ago, my left heel started hurting. Not like sharp pain, but kind of like the muscle (or whatever it is down there) is bruised and it hurts to step. I thought maybe it was plantar fasciitis... but I'm sure that is much more painful than what I have. Nonetheless, I cannot run until this injury heals. I do not know how it came about, which I think hurts me just as much as the fact that I cannot run.
Then two nights ago, I woke up from a coughing fit. I kept coughing for almost an hour, and my body was heaving so much that I felt a discomfort in my ribs. Sunday morning and afternoon I felt tired and had a headache, and I did not really notice the pain in my ribs so much. But as the day went on, it was harder and harder to breathe deeply without feeling a sharp pain. At first I thought maybe it was just a bruise, but then I started wondering if it wasn't fractured ribs. I'm still not sure. I'm still in pain, but it doesn't feel as bad as it did yesterday, so perhaps it's not such a serious injury. Still, I wonder why my body is breaking down in such weird and unpredictable ways?
-- Funny how some people show up in your lives once, and then disappear seemingly forever, and then randomly reappear in a place you least expect them to.
This has sort of happened to me twice, both times in Kobe. The first one was over a year ago now. While living in Winnipeg in 2002-03, I really missed contact with Japanese people, and found a listing for Japanese Alliance Church in the Yellow Pages. So I started attending and really enjoyed the fellowship. Particularly interesting was the story of the pastor and his wife, who were missionaries from Japan who originally served the aboriginal people in Northern Canada and Alaska. Anyhow, long story short, I moved back to Japan in 2003, and only saw them a few times after that. One such time was when their son, who was raised in Canada, wanted to finish high school in Japan, and enrolled at Okinawa Christian School. The family stayed in Winnipeg at the time, but they eventually moved back to Japan a few years ago, but to the (at that time) unknown-to-me city of Kobe. I was in Okinawa. Then I moved to Sapporo. Never thought I would see them again. Then I met a beautiful Kobe woman, and had to come see her to confirm that she was "the one" for me. During that time in Kobe, I stayed at that pastor's home, and it was a sweet time of reunion.
The other incident happened just yesterday. I went to Kobe Union Church after their service was over, in order to talk to the administration about having our wedding there. As we made our way in, we ran into some familiar faces. So we stopped and talked. Yumi started talking to a blonde lady, whom she had gone to Tokoku to do volunteer disaster relief work. That blonde lady looked way too familiar to have been someone I was meeting for the first time. "Oh, this is my fiance, Trevor. He's from Canada, too." And so a conversation ensued, and I started to hypothesize about where I had met this woman before. Her husband asked me, "How long have you been here?" So I gave my typical answer: 6 months in Kobe, but before that I lived in Sapporo for a year and Okinawa for ten or so. The blonde woman said, "I lived in Okinawa, too. In Naha City." My answer: "Yeah I know, we used to go to the same church!" I was amused at myself for the way I so non-chalantly divulged that we had known each other nearly a decade earlier. Funny stuff.
(Incidentally, this happened to Yumi a few months ago, too. My good friend Aaron, whom I met in Okinawa, invited us over for dinner. When we got there, Aaron's wife introduced herself to Yumi, and then said, "You know something, you look an awful lot like someone I know." And so it turns out, Yumi and Aaron's wife have known each other for longer than Aaron and I! Of course, they had lost touch for like a decade or so, but still... weird how our spouses unknowingly knew each other before we all met each other.)
-----
Well, this has gotten way longer than I expected, and I am out of time for now. I will write more again later, perhaps in a few days.
A couple of weeks ago, my left heel started hurting. Not like sharp pain, but kind of like the muscle (or whatever it is down there) is bruised and it hurts to step. I thought maybe it was plantar fasciitis... but I'm sure that is much more painful than what I have. Nonetheless, I cannot run until this injury heals. I do not know how it came about, which I think hurts me just as much as the fact that I cannot run.
Then two nights ago, I woke up from a coughing fit. I kept coughing for almost an hour, and my body was heaving so much that I felt a discomfort in my ribs. Sunday morning and afternoon I felt tired and had a headache, and I did not really notice the pain in my ribs so much. But as the day went on, it was harder and harder to breathe deeply without feeling a sharp pain. At first I thought maybe it was just a bruise, but then I started wondering if it wasn't fractured ribs. I'm still not sure. I'm still in pain, but it doesn't feel as bad as it did yesterday, so perhaps it's not such a serious injury. Still, I wonder why my body is breaking down in such weird and unpredictable ways?
-- Funny how some people show up in your lives once, and then disappear seemingly forever, and then randomly reappear in a place you least expect them to.
This has sort of happened to me twice, both times in Kobe. The first one was over a year ago now. While living in Winnipeg in 2002-03, I really missed contact with Japanese people, and found a listing for Japanese Alliance Church in the Yellow Pages. So I started attending and really enjoyed the fellowship. Particularly interesting was the story of the pastor and his wife, who were missionaries from Japan who originally served the aboriginal people in Northern Canada and Alaska. Anyhow, long story short, I moved back to Japan in 2003, and only saw them a few times after that. One such time was when their son, who was raised in Canada, wanted to finish high school in Japan, and enrolled at Okinawa Christian School. The family stayed in Winnipeg at the time, but they eventually moved back to Japan a few years ago, but to the (at that time) unknown-to-me city of Kobe. I was in Okinawa. Then I moved to Sapporo. Never thought I would see them again. Then I met a beautiful Kobe woman, and had to come see her to confirm that she was "the one" for me. During that time in Kobe, I stayed at that pastor's home, and it was a sweet time of reunion.
The other incident happened just yesterday. I went to Kobe Union Church after their service was over, in order to talk to the administration about having our wedding there. As we made our way in, we ran into some familiar faces. So we stopped and talked. Yumi started talking to a blonde lady, whom she had gone to Tokoku to do volunteer disaster relief work. That blonde lady looked way too familiar to have been someone I was meeting for the first time. "Oh, this is my fiance, Trevor. He's from Canada, too." And so a conversation ensued, and I started to hypothesize about where I had met this woman before. Her husband asked me, "How long have you been here?" So I gave my typical answer: 6 months in Kobe, but before that I lived in Sapporo for a year and Okinawa for ten or so. The blonde woman said, "I lived in Okinawa, too. In Naha City." My answer: "Yeah I know, we used to go to the same church!" I was amused at myself for the way I so non-chalantly divulged that we had known each other nearly a decade earlier. Funny stuff.
(Incidentally, this happened to Yumi a few months ago, too. My good friend Aaron, whom I met in Okinawa, invited us over for dinner. When we got there, Aaron's wife introduced herself to Yumi, and then said, "You know something, you look an awful lot like someone I know." And so it turns out, Yumi and Aaron's wife have known each other for longer than Aaron and I! Of course, they had lost touch for like a decade or so, but still... weird how our spouses unknowingly knew each other before we all met each other.)
-----
Well, this has gotten way longer than I expected, and I am out of time for now. I will write more again later, perhaps in a few days.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Days of victory
Some of you may know that I really like The Lord of the Rings series. Recently I have found the time to watch the entire trilogy (extended version, no less).
I got to thinking, "There's an awful lot of fighting in these movies. Feels almost nonstop! No wonder some people don't like it, or feel like it's rather repetitive!"
Well, isn't that life, though? One battle after the next. Sometimes it feels like there's no end to our struggles, to our quest for victory or freedom from pain, anguish, struggles.
And then I got to thinking, "There are so many weird creatures in these movies! No wonder some people get turned off by fantasy!"
But then, don't we encounter some weird, formidable beasts in our lives? Weird people, strange situations we couldn't have possibly imagined ahead of time. But we gotta deal with them, often clumsily or uncertainly, as we face new challenges almost daily.
Then I got to thinking, "Aren't their battles unrealistic? Small, ill-prepared, inexperienced warriors against armies that are way too large for them to defeat. And yet they win. How unrealistic! No wonder people don't like these movies!"
But then, aren't our lives like that at times? Odds stacked against us, victory seeming impossible or improbable. But then some army of trees, or legion of dead pirates (Lord of the Rings references) comes out of the blue to aid us to victory. I prefer to think of our aid as ANGELS or even the "cloud of witnesses" (fellow believers, past and present) found in Hebrews 12.
This time through the trilogy, I was captivated by different scenes than ever before. Between the battle scenes, there are a lot of victory parties. Lots of drinking, smoking, dancing, and laughing.
And I asked myself, "Now, why doesn't my life reflect this aspect of the movies?" Not the drinking and smoking per se (I'll spare you my views on these "Christian controversies" for now), but the idea that it's OK to celebrate the small victories on the road of life!
These days, for me, are days of victory. Life is going well. Really well. No, my life is not without battles. But it seems like I've been winning them left, right and center!
So, I need to celebrate in my own way and be thankful to the One who has granted me victory.
But like the fellowship in Lord of the Rings, I also have be of the mindset that more battles, of larger magnitude and steeper odds, lie ahead.
My enemy is a prowling lion, waiting for just the right moment to pounce! So I celebrate with an eye on the challenges that await me.
The war is over! Jesus was victorious over the grave! But the battle rages on...
I got to thinking, "There's an awful lot of fighting in these movies. Feels almost nonstop! No wonder some people don't like it, or feel like it's rather repetitive!"
Well, isn't that life, though? One battle after the next. Sometimes it feels like there's no end to our struggles, to our quest for victory or freedom from pain, anguish, struggles.
And then I got to thinking, "There are so many weird creatures in these movies! No wonder some people get turned off by fantasy!"
But then, don't we encounter some weird, formidable beasts in our lives? Weird people, strange situations we couldn't have possibly imagined ahead of time. But we gotta deal with them, often clumsily or uncertainly, as we face new challenges almost daily.
Then I got to thinking, "Aren't their battles unrealistic? Small, ill-prepared, inexperienced warriors against armies that are way too large for them to defeat. And yet they win. How unrealistic! No wonder people don't like these movies!"
But then, aren't our lives like that at times? Odds stacked against us, victory seeming impossible or improbable. But then some army of trees, or legion of dead pirates (Lord of the Rings references) comes out of the blue to aid us to victory. I prefer to think of our aid as ANGELS or even the "cloud of witnesses" (fellow believers, past and present) found in Hebrews 12.
This time through the trilogy, I was captivated by different scenes than ever before. Between the battle scenes, there are a lot of victory parties. Lots of drinking, smoking, dancing, and laughing.
And I asked myself, "Now, why doesn't my life reflect this aspect of the movies?" Not the drinking and smoking per se (I'll spare you my views on these "Christian controversies" for now), but the idea that it's OK to celebrate the small victories on the road of life!
These days, for me, are days of victory. Life is going well. Really well. No, my life is not without battles. But it seems like I've been winning them left, right and center!
So, I need to celebrate in my own way and be thankful to the One who has granted me victory.
But like the fellowship in Lord of the Rings, I also have be of the mindset that more battles, of larger magnitude and steeper odds, lie ahead.
My enemy is a prowling lion, waiting for just the right moment to pounce! So I celebrate with an eye on the challenges that await me.
The war is over! Jesus was victorious over the grave! But the battle rages on...
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
2011 - The year that was
What an unbelievable year that was. I have never had my emotions stretched both high and low like that ever before. Lots of amazing things, lots of trials.
I'll post more later. I just remember the words of Chuck Smith: blessed are the flexible, for they shall not break.
Pray for Pastor Chuck, by the way. Apparently he has been diagnosed with lung cancer.
I'll post more later. I just remember the words of Chuck Smith: blessed are the flexible, for they shall not break.
Pray for Pastor Chuck, by the way. Apparently he has been diagnosed with lung cancer.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
American Idol
This post's title does not refer to the television show in particular, but to the general idea that we (North) Americans are idol worshipers. We may not want to admit it, but we are.
Let me ask you a question: What is your passion? What do you get really excited about? Whom do you talk to the most? Whose advice are you quick to take? What words do you have memorized, flowing from your mouth more often than not?
I have a passion for sports. I get really excited about the Jets, my fantasy baseball team, and new Switchfoot albums. I talk to my fiancee the most (in my estimation -- I have never measured my talking time). I am quick to take the advice of people that I respect. And I would say I have the lyrics to my favorite songs memorized, and I can quote them or sing them to anyone at almost any given time.
I have a passion for God, but sometimes I think sports get more of my love.
I get excited when I hear about people receiving eternal life, but I probably shout out for joy more when I beat my rivals at fantasy sports.
I talk to the Lord, whenever I think of it, but I probably still speak more to my lifelong partner.
I know the Bible fairly well, in my own estimation, but I probably still have more music data stored in my head than I do Bible data.
So what?
Exodus 20:3 - You shall have no other gods before Me.
Back in the day, those "gods" were wooden or metal statues that people bowed down to. People would get all worked up, sent into a frenzy. They would belt out words in loud voices, they would dance, they would cry, they would release all sorts of passion towards these statues.
CRAZY, isn't it? Who could even THINK of doing such a thing? It's absurd!
I do not have statues of the Winnipeg Jets. But I do have a t-shirt, and I used to have posters and jerseys, among other memorabilia.
I do have a sort of statue for my fantasy baseball team... well, it's a trophy that I need to send away to this year's champion.
I do not have a shrine to Switchfoot or any other band, but I do have all their music, and it's in pretty heavy rotation.
I have never bowed down before my fiancee in worship, but I do think about her a whole lot.
Do any of these things make me an idolater? Good question, in my estimation.
Every Winnipeg Jets game at the MTS Centre features 15,001 fans screaming at the top of their lungs, getting into a frenzy. Especially when their beloved team scores a goal or wins a game. The passion in those arenas is unparalleled in the world of NHL hockey, according to many. There is such adoration for the players, it borders on idolatry.
I have only seen Switchfoot in concert once (at a festival, and I was a good hundred yards from the stage), but I know from seeing live footage that fans get pretty intense. Lots of sweat is poured out, lots of people scream and cry, and many even fantasize about spending time with the band members. Just shaking hands with them is a big deal, one that has a lot of people losing track of who they are.
(Just as an aside, I can recall experiencing this twice. Once, when I was 16, I met members of the band Slaughter, and shook their hands, and did not know what to say to them. I was completely star-struck. Also, around 5 years ago, I saw legendary pastor Chuck Smith in person, and I was so flabbergasted that I could not say a word.)
So at music concerts, too, people are practically idolizing the bands they are watching. It's crazy.
I am not saying any of this to condemn others. If anything, I have to point the finger at myself first. I am an idolater. I put others before God. It is something I hope to change about myself, though. I believe God can, and will, change me.
It all begins with an admission that I am an idolater. If I make any kind of excuse, or belittle my behavior, saying "everyone does it" or "but they're a Christian band" or "but I still read my Bible a few minutes each day and I pray every night, too" then I am not in a repentant state of mind anymore.
So I some out clean, and admit it to you all. I am an idolater. I have broken God's first commandment. Lord, have mercy on me.
Let me ask you a question: What is your passion? What do you get really excited about? Whom do you talk to the most? Whose advice are you quick to take? What words do you have memorized, flowing from your mouth more often than not?
I have a passion for sports. I get really excited about the Jets, my fantasy baseball team, and new Switchfoot albums. I talk to my fiancee the most (in my estimation -- I have never measured my talking time). I am quick to take the advice of people that I respect. And I would say I have the lyrics to my favorite songs memorized, and I can quote them or sing them to anyone at almost any given time.
I have a passion for God, but sometimes I think sports get more of my love.
I get excited when I hear about people receiving eternal life, but I probably shout out for joy more when I beat my rivals at fantasy sports.
I talk to the Lord, whenever I think of it, but I probably still speak more to my lifelong partner.
I know the Bible fairly well, in my own estimation, but I probably still have more music data stored in my head than I do Bible data.
So what?
Exodus 20:3 - You shall have no other gods before Me.
Back in the day, those "gods" were wooden or metal statues that people bowed down to. People would get all worked up, sent into a frenzy. They would belt out words in loud voices, they would dance, they would cry, they would release all sorts of passion towards these statues.
CRAZY, isn't it? Who could even THINK of doing such a thing? It's absurd!
I do not have statues of the Winnipeg Jets. But I do have a t-shirt, and I used to have posters and jerseys, among other memorabilia.
I do have a sort of statue for my fantasy baseball team... well, it's a trophy that I need to send away to this year's champion.
I do not have a shrine to Switchfoot or any other band, but I do have all their music, and it's in pretty heavy rotation.
I have never bowed down before my fiancee in worship, but I do think about her a whole lot.
Do any of these things make me an idolater? Good question, in my estimation.
Every Winnipeg Jets game at the MTS Centre features 15,001 fans screaming at the top of their lungs, getting into a frenzy. Especially when their beloved team scores a goal or wins a game. The passion in those arenas is unparalleled in the world of NHL hockey, according to many. There is such adoration for the players, it borders on idolatry.
I have only seen Switchfoot in concert once (at a festival, and I was a good hundred yards from the stage), but I know from seeing live footage that fans get pretty intense. Lots of sweat is poured out, lots of people scream and cry, and many even fantasize about spending time with the band members. Just shaking hands with them is a big deal, one that has a lot of people losing track of who they are.
(Just as an aside, I can recall experiencing this twice. Once, when I was 16, I met members of the band Slaughter, and shook their hands, and did not know what to say to them. I was completely star-struck. Also, around 5 years ago, I saw legendary pastor Chuck Smith in person, and I was so flabbergasted that I could not say a word.)
So at music concerts, too, people are practically idolizing the bands they are watching. It's crazy.
I am not saying any of this to condemn others. If anything, I have to point the finger at myself first. I am an idolater. I put others before God. It is something I hope to change about myself, though. I believe God can, and will, change me.
It all begins with an admission that I am an idolater. If I make any kind of excuse, or belittle my behavior, saying "everyone does it" or "but they're a Christian band" or "but I still read my Bible a few minutes each day and I pray every night, too" then I am not in a repentant state of mind anymore.
So I some out clean, and admit it to you all. I am an idolater. I have broken God's first commandment. Lord, have mercy on me.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
The Problem With Posting
Many of you know that I am a bit of a sports fanatic. Have been for as long as I can remember. I used to lay on the kitchen floor with the newspaper spread open to the sports section when I was like 5-6 years old. I would read the latest statistics about the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, the Winnipeg Jets, and even a little bit about other sports stars like Magic Johnson and some new guy named Jordan or something. I could even count by sevens before I got too deep into elementary school, because as you all know, that's how many points a touchdown is in football.
Anyhow, lately in the news of MLB (Major League Baseball, for those of you who are not into sports), Japanese phenom pitcher Yu Darvish has agreed to let his Japanese team (the Nippon Ham Fighters, who play in Sapporo) accept bids from major league teams for his services. See, he is still under contract with the Fighters, but wants to play in the best league in the world. So any MLB team that wants to sign him to a contract, must first pay the Fighters organization in order to gain the right to negotiate a contract with the pitcher. This money is referred to as "posting."
The problem is this: if he were a free agent, he could leave Japan and the Nippon Professional Baseball league without the Fighters receiving a yen of compensation from the major leagues. Not a problem yet, but... if a major league team wants to sign him, they are looking at paying upwards of $30 million just to get exclusive rights to sign him to a contract. So what happens? The major league team then has $30 million less to pay Darvish himself. The result is that his contract is significantly less than it would be if he were a free agent. Make sense? Let's say the Toronto Blue Jays win the bidding war. (They are one of a few teams that are said to have a serious shot at him.) And let's say they have $80 million to play with, over a period of, say, 5 years. Well, average that out, and it's $16 million per year. But wait... $30 million goes to the Fighters, leaving $50 million for Darvish. Now, $10 million per year is a pretty hefty salary, but when you consider it's 37.5% less than he would get were he a free agent, well, that's a pretty significant cut.
Why am I wasting so many words to explain what's happening to a baseball player that has nothing to do with my life? (Well actually, my friend's daughter used to see him jogging around their neighborhood up in Sapporo, so he is *sort of* connected to me!)
Because I experienced something similar in my own life lately. Let me explain. It's Christmas time, and I have family back in Canada. To be honest, none of my family, other than my nephews, is getting presents from me. It's just the way our family does things. We have all the material possessions we could possibly want, so instead of spending time and energy and money on getting each other gifts we really don't need, we just skip the commercialism of the season.
Back to my point. My nephews are getting gifts from me. And I have X-amount of money to spend on their gifts. But because of the distance between us, I cannot just spend 100% of my allotted capital on their presents. I also have to consider "posting" costs. So even though they deserve expensive presents, roughly 37.5% (haha, just using the same number as above) of my money goes to the post office, for the service of delivering my gift to Canada safely. Perhaps one of these years, I will find a way around this, and my nephews will get a closer approximation to what they deserve, instead of gifts that have a "posting" cost factored in.
Either way, Merry Christmas to my wonderful nephews, my brothers, my "in-laws" and my parents in Canada. And my friends and family all around the world. It's still a little early for those words, but I figured I'd better send you season's greetings while I think of it!
Anyhow, lately in the news of MLB (Major League Baseball, for those of you who are not into sports), Japanese phenom pitcher Yu Darvish has agreed to let his Japanese team (the Nippon Ham Fighters, who play in Sapporo) accept bids from major league teams for his services. See, he is still under contract with the Fighters, but wants to play in the best league in the world. So any MLB team that wants to sign him to a contract, must first pay the Fighters organization in order to gain the right to negotiate a contract with the pitcher. This money is referred to as "posting."
The problem is this: if he were a free agent, he could leave Japan and the Nippon Professional Baseball league without the Fighters receiving a yen of compensation from the major leagues. Not a problem yet, but... if a major league team wants to sign him, they are looking at paying upwards of $30 million just to get exclusive rights to sign him to a contract. So what happens? The major league team then has $30 million less to pay Darvish himself. The result is that his contract is significantly less than it would be if he were a free agent. Make sense? Let's say the Toronto Blue Jays win the bidding war. (They are one of a few teams that are said to have a serious shot at him.) And let's say they have $80 million to play with, over a period of, say, 5 years. Well, average that out, and it's $16 million per year. But wait... $30 million goes to the Fighters, leaving $50 million for Darvish. Now, $10 million per year is a pretty hefty salary, but when you consider it's 37.5% less than he would get were he a free agent, well, that's a pretty significant cut.
Why am I wasting so many words to explain what's happening to a baseball player that has nothing to do with my life? (Well actually, my friend's daughter used to see him jogging around their neighborhood up in Sapporo, so he is *sort of* connected to me!)
Because I experienced something similar in my own life lately. Let me explain. It's Christmas time, and I have family back in Canada. To be honest, none of my family, other than my nephews, is getting presents from me. It's just the way our family does things. We have all the material possessions we could possibly want, so instead of spending time and energy and money on getting each other gifts we really don't need, we just skip the commercialism of the season.
Back to my point. My nephews are getting gifts from me. And I have X-amount of money to spend on their gifts. But because of the distance between us, I cannot just spend 100% of my allotted capital on their presents. I also have to consider "posting" costs. So even though they deserve expensive presents, roughly 37.5% (haha, just using the same number as above) of my money goes to the post office, for the service of delivering my gift to Canada safely. Perhaps one of these years, I will find a way around this, and my nephews will get a closer approximation to what they deserve, instead of gifts that have a "posting" cost factored in.
Either way, Merry Christmas to my wonderful nephews, my brothers, my "in-laws" and my parents in Canada. And my friends and family all around the world. It's still a little early for those words, but I figured I'd better send you season's greetings while I think of it!
Monday, December 12, 2011
Technology - Blessing or Society's Downfall?
These days, I have been seeing a lot of people walking to and from work with headphones in their ears. And I am one of those people.
Then I get on the train and see tons of people sending texts, playing games, among other things, all on their smart phones. And I am one of those people.
Then I get on the bus and see more of the same. And I am one of those people.
It surprises me when I see people in their sixties with headphones in their ears. Why? At least my excuse is, "I grew up with this kind of thing -- granted, my first one was a cassette player, but I have been listening to music on my hand-held player since I was like 10 years old!" It seems like mp3 players, iPods, etc. are not just common among the younger generation. (Dare I still group myself in with the younger generation?)
I wonder... are we ever going to miss the sounds of nature? The sound of a stiff breeze blowing through a wind tunnel or a city street? The sound of leaves gently flapping against each other? The sound of the cicadas' shrill in the summer? (We won't EVER miss that one!) Even the sound of a child crying out excitedly when he sees a bug or finds 100 yen on the sidewalk?
We get so absorbed in our own worlds sometimes, that we fail to see beauty around us. I think it bugs me most when I see people texting while walking. I am going to make an effort to not do this anymore. I want to look around, let my eyes take in nature, take in people, take in the world around me, instead of the 2.4-inch screen that seems to get too much of my attention.
The song "Headphones" by Jars of Clay comes to mind as I ponder this subject. These words so often make me feel a little melancholy, and I really hope this kind of thing does not become too common in the world, although I am afraid it has already become so. At least in Japan.
I don't have to hear it, if I don't want to
I can drown this out, pull the curtains down on you
it's a heavy world, it's too much for me to care
If I close my eyes, it's not there
With my headphones on, with my headphones on
With my headphones on, with my headphones on
We watch television...but the sound is something else
Just a song played against the drama,
so the hurt is never felt
I take in the war-fires, and I'm
chilled by the current events
it's so hopeless, but there's a pop song in my
Headphones on, in my headphones on
With my headphones on, with my headphones on
At the Tube Stop, you sit down across from me
(I can see you looking back at me)
I think I know you
By the sad eyes that I see
I want to tell you (It's a heavy world)
Everything will be okay
You wouldn't hear it (I don't want to have to hear it)
So we go our separate ways...
With our headphones on, with our headphones on
With our headphones on, with our headphones on
I don't wanna be the one who tries to figure it out
I don't need another reason I should care about you
You don't want to know my story
You don't want to own my pain
Living in a heavy, heavy world
And there's a pop song in my head
I don't want to have to hear it
Then I get on the train and see tons of people sending texts, playing games, among other things, all on their smart phones. And I am one of those people.
Then I get on the bus and see more of the same. And I am one of those people.
It surprises me when I see people in their sixties with headphones in their ears. Why? At least my excuse is, "I grew up with this kind of thing -- granted, my first one was a cassette player, but I have been listening to music on my hand-held player since I was like 10 years old!" It seems like mp3 players, iPods, etc. are not just common among the younger generation. (Dare I still group myself in with the younger generation?)
I wonder... are we ever going to miss the sounds of nature? The sound of a stiff breeze blowing through a wind tunnel or a city street? The sound of leaves gently flapping against each other? The sound of the cicadas' shrill in the summer? (We won't EVER miss that one!) Even the sound of a child crying out excitedly when he sees a bug or finds 100 yen on the sidewalk?
We get so absorbed in our own worlds sometimes, that we fail to see beauty around us. I think it bugs me most when I see people texting while walking. I am going to make an effort to not do this anymore. I want to look around, let my eyes take in nature, take in people, take in the world around me, instead of the 2.4-inch screen that seems to get too much of my attention.
The song "Headphones" by Jars of Clay comes to mind as I ponder this subject. These words so often make me feel a little melancholy, and I really hope this kind of thing does not become too common in the world, although I am afraid it has already become so. At least in Japan.
I don't have to hear it, if I don't want to
I can drown this out, pull the curtains down on you
it's a heavy world, it's too much for me to care
If I close my eyes, it's not there
With my headphones on, with my headphones on
With my headphones on, with my headphones on
We watch television...but the sound is something else
Just a song played against the drama,
so the hurt is never felt
I take in the war-fires, and I'm
chilled by the current events
it's so hopeless, but there's a pop song in my
Headphones on, in my headphones on
With my headphones on, with my headphones on
At the Tube Stop, you sit down across from me
(I can see you looking back at me)
I think I know you
By the sad eyes that I see
I want to tell you (It's a heavy world)
Everything will be okay
You wouldn't hear it (I don't want to have to hear it)
So we go our separate ways...
With our headphones on, with our headphones on
With our headphones on, with our headphones on
I don't wanna be the one who tries to figure it out
I don't need another reason I should care about you
You don't want to know my story
You don't want to own my pain
Living in a heavy, heavy world
And there's a pop song in my head
I don't want to have to hear it
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
The Power of Words
I have to say, recently I have really been enjoying reading again. One particular book has gotten a lot of love from me. (No, not the Bible, though I do love it and have been giving it love, too.) The book Vintage Jesus by Mark Driscoll and Gerry Breshears is so real... so theologically sound, but so presently relevant, and funny, and thought provoking, and everything I like about non-fiction theological books. A few snippets:
"I have never had a suicidal thought, but in the darkest seasons of life I do find myself daydreaming about Jesus' return, some people getting loaded into a wood chipper, the curse being lifted, and the never-ending sunshine promised in Revelation so I won't have to put the top back on my Jeep. In the meantime, the feces and the fan are certain to continue interfacing until the day Jesus gets back and cleans up the mess we've made."
"In the depths of my soul is a deep and profound love for righteous judgment and justice. I do not labor under the silly myth that deep down we are all good people and that our sins are simply occasional aberrations. No, we are rebels, lawbreakers, Satan's minions, fools, and evildoers without exception, beginning with the guy I see brushing his teeth in my mirror every morning. That fact is blinded by our own hypocrisy. We are prone to clearly see the sin that others commit against us and the corresponding pain that it causes. Subsequently, when we are sinned against, we tend to complain, yell, or honk our horn because we refuse to sit idly by without demanding justice. Conversely, when we sin, we cry with equal volume, not for justice, but rather for mercy, which is only a further indication of how corrupt and hypocritical we are."
These are just two paragraphs of a book that is packed with powerful words... some encouraging, some convicting, some eye-opening, some laughter-inducing, some painfully hard to read because they're sad truths about humanity's depravity. But through it all, Driscoll points our eyes to Jesus, and how His existence, death and resurrection (all facts, by the way) cover the multitudes of our sins, and gives us hope and reason to keep living. My favourite chapter was probably the second-to-last, entitled What Difference Has Jesus Made in History? Amazing to read in plain English just what an impact Jesus has had on the world as a whole, let alone the lives of millions upon millions of individuals. Read this book if you get the chance!
"I have never had a suicidal thought, but in the darkest seasons of life I do find myself daydreaming about Jesus' return, some people getting loaded into a wood chipper, the curse being lifted, and the never-ending sunshine promised in Revelation so I won't have to put the top back on my Jeep. In the meantime, the feces and the fan are certain to continue interfacing until the day Jesus gets back and cleans up the mess we've made."
"In the depths of my soul is a deep and profound love for righteous judgment and justice. I do not labor under the silly myth that deep down we are all good people and that our sins are simply occasional aberrations. No, we are rebels, lawbreakers, Satan's minions, fools, and evildoers without exception, beginning with the guy I see brushing his teeth in my mirror every morning. That fact is blinded by our own hypocrisy. We are prone to clearly see the sin that others commit against us and the corresponding pain that it causes. Subsequently, when we are sinned against, we tend to complain, yell, or honk our horn because we refuse to sit idly by without demanding justice. Conversely, when we sin, we cry with equal volume, not for justice, but rather for mercy, which is only a further indication of how corrupt and hypocritical we are."
These are just two paragraphs of a book that is packed with powerful words... some encouraging, some convicting, some eye-opening, some laughter-inducing, some painfully hard to read because they're sad truths about humanity's depravity. But through it all, Driscoll points our eyes to Jesus, and how His existence, death and resurrection (all facts, by the way) cover the multitudes of our sins, and gives us hope and reason to keep living. My favourite chapter was probably the second-to-last, entitled What Difference Has Jesus Made in History? Amazing to read in plain English just what an impact Jesus has had on the world as a whole, let alone the lives of millions upon millions of individuals. Read this book if you get the chance!
Monday, December 5, 2011
God Still Does Miracles
This morning, I woke up feeling warmer than I should have. The temperature outside was quite cool, after all, and I set the timer on my heater to turn on at 5:30am -- about 40 minutes before my wakeup time. But this morning, I felt a lot warmer than usual. I checked my cell phone to see if my alarm was about to go off. Uh-oh... the battery's dead!
I jumped out of bed and checked my clock. The time: 7:22am. I have to catch the 7:46am train to Ashiya if I want to get to work on time. I also stink and need to shave. And the train station is nearly a kilometer from my house. A 10-minute walk, if I take my usual long strides.
Somehow, despite having only 24 minutes to get from bed to presentable for work and to the station, I made it... with a few more seconds to spare than I do on some days! So ironically, I get to work on time, but sit at my desk, browsing e-mails or something, and end up late for class anyways. But fortunately, the students were also all late for class because of scheduling changes.
So the morning has been interesting and kind of weird, but I have come to the conclusion that this morning was nothing short of a miracle of God. Oops -- gotta go -- class is about to start!
今は昼休み中なので、職場からブログ更新してもいいかと思っています。今朝は、いつもと比べて部屋が暖かかった。このころの神戸は少し寒くなってきて、朝は暖房のタイマーを使って、５時半から部屋を暖かくしています。要するに、起きる前に４０分くらい使って、お風呂入った後は切って、仕事に出る準備をします。でも今日は、暖かかった。携帯をとって、時間を確認したら、電池が切れていることに気づいた。アラームがな鳴らなかったのではと。たちまちベッドから起き上がり、リビングの時計で時間の確認をすると、
午前７時２２分でした。芦屋駅への電車は、７時４６分に最寄の駅から出る。家から早歩きしても１０分くらいかかります。体がくさい。ひげが濃い。腹が減った。どうしよう！？！
急いで準備したら、７時４０分くらいに家を出ることができました。少し走れば、間に合えるかも！と思ったら、走り出した。なんとか電車に間に合いました！時間通りにバスにも乗れていつもと同じ時間に出勤することができました。ハレルヤ！神様が奇跡を起こしました！
と言いながら、ホッとして教員室でメールチェックしながらコーヒーを飲んでいた。一息して、気が付けば１時間目だ！ヤバイ、遅れる！また教員室から走り出して、教室へ。奇跡的に、時間割の変更で、生徒は全員遅れていたので、私が一番早めに教室に着きました。またまたの奇跡！神様はすばらしい！
I jumped out of bed and checked my clock. The time: 7:22am. I have to catch the 7:46am train to Ashiya if I want to get to work on time. I also stink and need to shave. And the train station is nearly a kilometer from my house. A 10-minute walk, if I take my usual long strides.
Somehow, despite having only 24 minutes to get from bed to presentable for work and to the station, I made it... with a few more seconds to spare than I do on some days! So ironically, I get to work on time, but sit at my desk, browsing e-mails or something, and end up late for class anyways. But fortunately, the students were also all late for class because of scheduling changes.
So the morning has been interesting and kind of weird, but I have come to the conclusion that this morning was nothing short of a miracle of God. Oops -- gotta go -- class is about to start!
今は昼休み中なので、職場からブログ更新してもいいかと思っています。今朝は、いつもと比べて部屋が暖かかった。このころの神戸は少し寒くなってきて、朝は暖房のタイマーを使って、５時半から部屋を暖かくしています。要するに、起きる前に４０分くらい使って、お風呂入った後は切って、仕事に出る準備をします。でも今日は、暖かかった。携帯をとって、時間を確認したら、電池が切れていることに気づいた。アラームがな鳴らなかったのではと。たちまちベッドから起き上がり、リビングの時計で時間の確認をすると、
午前７時２２分でした。芦屋駅への電車は、７時４６分に最寄の駅から出る。家から早歩きしても１０分くらいかかります。体がくさい。ひげが濃い。腹が減った。どうしよう！？！
急いで準備したら、７時４０分くらいに家を出ることができました。少し走れば、間に合えるかも！と思ったら、走り出した。なんとか電車に間に合いました！時間通りにバスにも乗れていつもと同じ時間に出勤することができました。ハレルヤ！神様が奇跡を起こしました！
と言いながら、ホッとして教員室でメールチェックしながらコーヒーを飲んでいた。一息して、気が付けば１時間目だ！ヤバイ、遅れる！また教員室から走り出して、教室へ。奇跡的に、時間割の変更で、生徒は全員遅れていたので、私が一番早めに教室に着きました。またまたの奇跡！神様はすばらしい！
Monday, November 14, 2011
The Power of Hyperbole
I have always liked music, and I have usually had an appreciation for poetry. Combine those and you get someone who loves song lyrics. When I listen to music, the words always make a difference to me. If the lyrics are good, I tend to like a song better even if it is not musically strong. If the lyrics are weak, I tend to like the song less despite its musicality.
Hyperbole is extreme exaggeration of something in order to make a point clearer. A good example of hyperbole in the Bible is when John said, "And there are also many other things that Jesus did, which if they were written one by one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written" (John 21:25). While this statement may be "true"... if you really think about it, Jesus lived 33 years and spent 3 of those in ministry... so I do not think it would be impossible for "the world itself" to contain the books. BUT, the point John is trying to make is that Jesus' works were innumerable and incalculable. So great were they in number, that it astounds our minds to think about it.
Anyways, I have really been struck by a song lyric recently. It is in the song "I Can See Your Love" by Leeland. The song is pretty cool, with a great guitar lick and a vocal track to match it. But suddenly towards the end of the song, the tempo slows down and the following words are calmly delivered:
"Could we with ink the ocean fill
And were the skies of paper madeEvery tree on earth a quill
And every man a scribe by trade
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry
Nor could the scroll contain the whole
Though stretched from sky to sky
Oh love of God, how rich and pure
How measureless and strong
It shall forevermore endure
The saints' and angels' song..."
The powerful images that this creates in my mind are absolutely astounding, and it has reduced me to tears just thinking about how great His love is. The truth is, His love IS written across the skies, and every man SHOULD be a scribe (not necessarily writing, but transmitting/imparting His love in some way), and yet there is no way to contain or fully express the vastness of His love. I can't wait for the day when I meet Him and experience that love in its purest form, uninhibited by my pride and weak flesh.
Beautiful song lyrics, to say the least. What do you all think about them?
Editor's Post-Publishing Note: I just did a little "research" and discovered that this was originally a hymn (?) written by Frederick Martin Lehman. Alas, the English did sound a little old-fashioned. Incredible poetry, nonetheless!
Editor's Post-Publishing Note: I just did a little "research" and discovered that this was originally a hymn (?) written by Frederick Martin Lehman. Alas, the English did sound a little old-fashioned. Incredible poetry, nonetheless!
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