MISSIONARY KATHIE

Since I won't be writing about new material, I might as well tell you more from the first part of the book. Besides, I realized I neglected to mention something pretty important before.

It was about when Grampa Oshiro--the grampa on Daddy's side--the one who talked about the green-eyed missionary lady. I can't believe I left out this detail. I'll tell you about it now.

It was in the mid 1970's, and our family was on furlough in the U.S., so my sisters and I had been attending public high school and witnessing to our unsaved classmates.

Kathie, a Jewish teen who loved languages, had become a good friend of the family, spending some mealtimes with us. To make a long story short, she found Jesus to be her Messiah and persuaded her parents to let her spend part of Christmas day with our family (Jews celebrate Hannukah; not Christmas).

Kathie, being the linguist she is, learned to say in Japanese, "Jesus is my Savior." We were amazed. Then she learned the grammatical sentence structure of Japanese, practiced, and learned to say to Grampa Oshiro, "Ojiichan mo Iessama o shinjite kudasai ne." (Grampa, I want you to believe Jesus too.) How we wish all missionaries had minds like Kathie.

It was a while later, on a day when Kathie wasn't over at the house, Ojiichan, who turned 88 years old, really did believe Iessama!

(You got that, didn't you? Grampa believed Jesus.)

JUMPING THE GUN

"Mind the STOPS June." The Okinawan blown-glass turtle in the corner seemed to whisper to me as I polished it and set it back down on the shelf. But where have I heard that before?

Would you please pray with me that I wouldn't jump ahead of God?

I mean, it's a pretty sad thing if an athlete trains for months for an important meet then gets disqualified for jumping out of the starting blocks early! (No; this isn't a photograph of a historic Olympic race in which that happened; it's a picture taken during Daddy's coaching days at Coaldale High.

 

The reason I say all this is because AFTER putting slide images of all the pictures into the computer; turning Daddy's corner room shed of sorts into a semblance of order; and remembering then reorganizing everything from writing I'd started 18 years ago and re-writing 40 pages of it...God seems to be slamming on the brakes.

At first, it was confusing, to say the least. Didn't God want me to go forward now, I wondered.

But for some reason, He seems to want me to get a CLEAR HANDLE on everything that's happened up 'til this segment and go no further. Actually, I see His wisdom in making me wait even the 18 years since the last time I left off writing.

I shared with another friend how God knew someone would give me permission to write about something which, at the very beginning had told me I could not write about: unbelievers wouldn't understand. They died in the 18 years. (So did the Christians they might've been upset with!)

We can never question God's ways. Okay Lord--18 days, 18 months, another 18 years--it's Your timetable. Help me not to jump the gun.

THOUGHTS FROM BED...

I guess I overdid it in the heat yesterday and need to take it easy today again, so here's an "easy post". Here are a few more photos taken with my cell. Usually, Purples don't show up in photographs, but this time, the lavender wildflowers don't look a powder blue! (are cameras partial to wildlife in Okinawa, I wonder.) Thank you, Lord. Altho' this pink hibiscus was one of the first blooms on my walk, I noticed yesterday a lot of them were blooming just across street from the Gushikawa Baptist Church.

Come to think of it, it's not just cell. THESE were taken with the compact camera. Last month, Chiaki Garner, who goes to Gushikawa BC, sent over to our home a loaf of her famous zucchini bread...and I didn't think to take a picture until I was about to eat the last slice!

Last week, it got cool enough for me to get out for worship service plus pot luck, and I went again this week for something more yummy than Chiaki's zucchini bread.

At the last half of the message, the preacher mentioned how our self-worth had to be grounded in the reality that God loves us so much Jesus died for us on the Cross. Simple Gospel. We say we believe it, then we easily get upset by other things.

I so needed to hear that. I've been having issues with Kinya. I know, I know; I'll put my eyes back on the Cross (this is Sze Wan's drawing on the bookshelf at the back of the church) and remember to do so for now; probably will forget about it tomorrow and will need another reminder then...but God, tap me on top of the head whenever I need it, OK?

I mean, it's been over 50 years I've been walking with Him, and I STILL forget what you would think are the easiest things.

I'm so glad we have a merciful Savior!

NOT FOR NOTHING

"FOUND IT!" and across the page the other drawing I'd posted--yes! When looking through the photo albums and prayer letters Daddy had carefully saved, I finally found the drawings I knew my parents had used...they finally showed up. On re-reading the prayer letter tho', I realized Mommy really HAD been alone at home during that one typhoon: Daddy and Janice were in mainland Japan at a Crusade conference; and Joyce and I were away at summer camp with our cousin.

But wait...what's this? To keep the letter from sliding around in the vinyl sleeve of the folder, old stationary had been inserted to give it extra thickness. I pulled out and read the sheet used; and found myself smiling. It told of the summer my mother's cousin's children had spent their summer months with us, and how I'd been able to lead David, the 8-year-old boy, to Christ. 

I still remember all his questions about Adam and Eve's offering. Little kids aren't supposed to ask hard questions like that. I kept calling for Mommy to come answer. But those answers are what led to his asking Jesus to be his Sacrifice Lamb. And the boy that was just a livewire firecracker before became a delight to take care of when he wanted to learn more about Jesus after that.

I looked behind the second drawing, and sure enough, there was a follow-up for this letter, showing that on the first day of the camp to which I went to with Joyce and the older sister, she too, got saved!

So Mommy's summer facing that typhoon alone wasn't for nothing, was it?

NO MATTER HOW DIM

"What's that light?" I remember hearing how something seemingly really insignificant can be a life-saving factor.

I was sifting through old letters when I remembered Rumiko telling me about the time she'd gotten so weary of life, she'd begun walking out into the ocean...she kept walking when the water got up to her shoulders-----neck--and she couldn't swim. She didn't care any more. She would keep walking.

Gloomy, hopeless dark thoughts filled her mind. But what was that small light flickering to the side? (To this day, she is convinced it was GOD.) She turned her head and walked towards it. She ended up waking up dry--exhausted, but alive, ready to face another day on this earth.

Perhaps it had been "just" a reflection of the moon's rays off a specific rock's corner that hit her eyes at that specific angle to make it the distracting beacon that had saved her life that night. Even a ray of light is a super power, when God is in it.

Little Is Much, When God Is In It

In the harvest field now ripened
There's a work for all to do
Hark! the Master's voice is calling
To the harvest calling you

Does the place you're called to labor
And does the place you're called to labor
Seem so small and little known?
It is great if a God is in it
For He'll not forsake His own

Little is much when God is in it!
Labor not for wealth or fame
There's a crown, and you can win it
If you go in Jesus' name

And when the conflict has ended
And our race on earth is run
He will say, if you've been faithful
"Welcome home, My child—well done!"

Little is much when God is in it!
Labor not for wealth or fame
There's a crown, and you can win it
If you go...
If you go...
If you go in Jesus' name.

Even a little flicker can end up saving a life!

ADULTS WERE THERE TOO!

I realized, in my Oct. 5 post for "Hawaii Calls", only the Uken kids are pictured. Adults really were there! It wasn't just the children that built the church; it just so happens that I posted the picture with only the kids!

See? This is my Dad with his cousin's wife, telling her to look at the camera.

They'd come out--unbelievers too--to help the Christians get their church--because they'd seen the good this foreign religion did for them--at least for Yoshi.

She no longer wanted to jump into the well to get away from demon spirits who insisted she be the next priestess. That is, that's what Seiko said his wife tried to do when they told her she'd been chosen for this special honor (being priestess is the highest honor of the ancestor worship system).

So, even if they weren't completely persuaded themselves of this Christian God, the adults of the village rallied together and helped put up the ribbing, the shell, and...a humble but very own meeting place for the Uken believers.

Thank You God!

The children were watching.

I wonder how many of them are grown now with families of their own and are thinking about this time when they came face to face with the working of a Living God in their lives? Please pray they will be sensitive to His voice and respond to the wooing of His Love.

FREE ADVERTISING

I told you I was working on something I found that I started 18 years ago. I just finished copying the last bit of 40 pages I've already written. Of course, the last third of the book was left open-ended, so there's plenty to be done, but it feels like the end is now in sight.

I know I wrote this myself, so it's not new, but I had to shake my head again when I read about my parents' first Christmas (1957). They'd moved into a former public bathhouse--a small, very inexpensive place--and they were praying about how to introduce themselves to their neighbors, when a policeman came to the door saying he wanted them to come down to the station for questioning.

They were accused of a hit-and-run of a neighborhood girl. What had happened was, some children had been playing on the back of the car when it started to move. The boy jumped off immediately, but the sister, too frightened to move, hung on to the bumper and was dragged on the dirt road for a while until the car stopped to the frantic motioning by pedestrians. The mother, walking by, had seen the whole incident. Altho' the boy had taken the girl to the doctor who patched her up, she was pronounced fine and sent to school the next day. Matters turned for the worse several days later, and the little girl died on Dec. 22, probably from gangrene.

The mother, wanting to protect my parents whom she knew to be innocent, would not initially give their names to the police. Newspaper headlines declared "Missionary Hit-And-Run, Noboru and Kimiko Oshiro, who live at (it gave their addresses) hit 7-yr.-old Yukiko Kinjo as she was walking down the street. There had been desperate attempts to keep the traffic incident secret from the police and society," the article said, "but policeman M brought the truth to light."

The next few days (in other words, this included Christmas Day) were spent in intense interrogation and investigation which completely cleared my parents of any wrongdoing, neglect, or of course, bribery.

And there was a surprise bonus that came after the air had cleared and they decided to begin their ministry. My Mom and Dad had no need to introduce themselves to their neighbors; everyone knew who they were. After all, they had received free, front-page advertising on most local newspapers, (and some people were slightly sympathetic with them for getting a bum rap from the police.)

 

Almost Lost It All

"Wanna get in a shot before the sun goes down."

"But June, it went down a long time ago!"

What I meant to say was that I wanted to get a picture while there was enough LIGHT, and the words just didn't come out right.

My cousin Stephen and his wife Lori had come for a week's visit to Okinawa. They were the ones who drove my sister and me to the airport in Honolulu, in other words, the last relatives we saw in Hawaii this year. Joyce and I went to an Okinawan food restaurant nearby for a few good, relaxing hours with them.

On the way home, I found an old photo I'd put in my compact camera of my sisters and me in the airplane in 1968, all wearing dresses sewn by Aunty Ayako, Stephen's deceased mom.

"Look, Stephen!" Lori eagerly showed her husband; "your mom sewed all of these dresses!"

"Yeah." was Stephen's dry response. That was pretty much what I expected. Kinya would've been the same way. Men aren't that interested in those things. Men would be more impressed by home run balls or old fountain pens and watches. My Dad even framed several of his trusty favorites.

Since the 2011 Quake, when I lost all my photo albums, my parents' albums that I would've easily thrown away before felt different--they were treasure chests now--and the way I felt about anything to do with my Dad felt different too. Even my Dad's old dark iron fish bookends, I found myself cleaning and polishing for hours until I made the bronze to shine.

God can not only make things change; He knows what experiences are necessary to make those changes happen. He will wait until we're willing to go through them.

SPECIAL DELIVERY

A friend, Kristine, was supposed to drop in yesterday, and I was so looking forward to her coming. She's an art lover too; married to a Japanese; and yes, she loves the Lord. Afternoon possibilities, including eating at an inexpensive sushi chain, fell through at the last minute; and she had to return to mainland Japan without visiting.

I tried going out to church the first time since coming out to Okinawa--it was still a bit warm, but temperatures are coming down a bit, and it IS air conditioned at church, so the only place I will actually be in contact with the outside heat is the few seconds on the church staircase between the parking area and the sanctuary. This is a photo from our visit in Jan. We didn't know then that Shohei would be leaving us to train as evangelist in northern Japan.

I noticed a framed picture of the cross superimposed on the island of Okinawa and was told it was painted by Sze Wan, a person from Canada I'd met here when we visited then (Jan.23 and Feb.18 posts). I had to take a picture. But as I photographed it, I noticed the titles of the books I loved on the bookshelf.

The person who told me who that painter was and who I ended up getting in a conversation about those books is the mother of the young man talking with my sister Janice, visiting in Jan. from the U.S.

(Oops; next paragraph pic!)

Kishimoto-san, the person who gave me the ride, said not to make supper tonight, that she'd be coming at 5 p.m. with a gift. I could see the Father smiling merrily as she handed me through the door, a large plate of luscious, "Welcome to Okinawa" sushi.

Sorry. WE ATE ALL THE SUSHI before I thought I should've taken a picture first!

How Do YOU Look At Pictures?

"RED?! How can you study with everything all red?" My high school years, I remember seeing my Dad's study in our Furugen house. I felt like I would be blinded stepping into that room of red walls, red upholstery, red painted bookcases, red curtains. How could Daddy stand it?

"Actually, the color is too bright for me," Daddy said; "so it keeps my head down and concentrated on what I'm studying."

Oh...I was beginning to get it. I remembered seeing a picture of Daddy supposedly at his "study", but if you looked at it carefully, he wasn't really studying, but looking at the picture of Mommy on the desk. That picture was taken just after they were married, so it's forgivable.

But I guess he stopped thinking there was a problem with looking at photographs in the study, because he began putting them up--of course, of family, then of missionaries and co-workers.

It spilled over into enlarging, framing, and hanging photographs all over the house, building bulletin boards and reflective panels for them, transforming the home into a photo museum.

Daddy kept praying. Even when he couldn't preach anymore, he kept praying for all those he put up. I wonder if people on those walls realize we don't have to be missionaries and pay to have prayer cards made. Some people, like Daddy, enlarge, frame, display normal photographs for that very purpose.

Daddy painted over the red bookcases with white  paint.

CENTURION TO THE RESCUE

Here's that post I promised you about meeting my friend at the hibiscus flower.

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I'd thrown on a pair of thongs and rushed outside to get some pictures. In Okinawa, you see a lot more people running around in casual clothes and these rubber flip-flops. But these are special. They were probably bought at a Christian bookstore down in southern Okinawa. Can you guess why? Yup, the sign of the fish with the Greek letters inside for "Jesus Christ, Son of God" first century Christians used to identify themselves! "How beautiful are the feet of them..."

I got carried away. I put on those things and trotted 

across the street to the shady area near the river to get a good picture of my favorite little hibiscus.I told you, it isn't the vibrant blood-red you see in most tourist photographs but a delicate red with white streaks. But the one I was trying to photograph seemed to be jiggling, wasn't it?  A worm! A teeny, tiny worm with a bright red head seemed to want to be photographed too,

He let go of the bloom...and I realized he joined a few of his buddies on the ground. Their flowers had wilted or been severed from the tree for some reason so sent them falling. I hadn't noticed the gray-black spagetti-stubs lying there until this one joined them. I saw red ends lift up then as they began to move. When it reached the white rail nearby, I dared get up close and take another picture.

"Hi. I'm Cenchi (Centimeter Worm). You met my cousin, Inchy (Inch Worm) in Iwatsuki." Nice meeting you, but as you can see, I'm kinda busy right now, so I'll get back to you, ok?"

A human bugged a worm? First time for everything.

MY CAMERA MADE IT OUT

You thought I wasn't going to be posting as much? I thought so too. But I seem to have overdone it--duh--so found myself in bed this morning all sore with a dull headache. (OK, the "dull head" is something I was born with, but the sore muscles are DEFINITELY witness to good, honest work!)

Anyway, last week, when the temperatures went down at least a few hours in the early mornings, I had gone down to the river to look at some wildlife and not posted any of it due to all this other stuff going on, so here's a little bit:

I wanted to see if my favorite hibiscus was still where it was several years ago. The popular hibiscus is a large, bright, red one; I've fallen in love with a tiny, dainty one that hangs upside down with streaks of white, kinda looks like a tiny valentine for someone on walks, I think, not a healthy bloom to be plucked and placed behind the ear...IT WAS STILL THERE! On a future post, I want to tell you about Senchi, a friend I made there.

There were waterfowl here before...no Swamp Pigeon (only pretty pigeon on nearby post)...but I saw an egret! It had flown quite a ways from the congregating place downriver, I knew. An old poster told of hunt for a snapping turtle nearby, but all I could see in the river were little carp...wait...THAT WAS A TURTLE HEAD--THEY HADN'T CAUGHT IT YET!

"I kinda don't think they ever will," a yellow flower seemed to say. Flowers don't talk, I told myself, and looked again. It was a pretty dragonfly. Butterflies were still around, but most dragonflies were gone by Oct. "Please don't run away. You're so pretty! I thought you were a flower--one of those yellow spears!" I knew I'd get feverish if I didn't go home soon so headed back.

I'm going to have to start to learn the name for the wildlife I see everyday. The first photograph looks like tiny peaches, but I KNOW they're not. And the red flowers bloom all over the place, and I just call them "those red flowers" and Kinya knows which ones I'm talking about.

FROM THE FRONT LINES

 "The soldiers in the front lines get hit the hardest," Mommy used to say. I cried as I saw some of the old photos of her "Uncle Nagata". I told you how he left Hawaii at the drop of a hat to come help my parents in Okinawa in their ministry to the elderly, and how greatly God used him here. Well, the enemy wasn't very happy with this new reinforcement...and from pictures and vague memory, I know he tried to take him out. What a wicked enemy we battle.

When Grampa Nagata came from Hawaii, he was single, but it seemed a partner had been prepared for him. But we know that some "gifts", like the Trojan Horse in history, can have an ulterior purpose. It became apparent Grampa had to leave, and he spent the rest of his life alone. Yet you can read in past posts how, even through his funeral, an unsaved relative surrendered her life to Christ saying to Grampa Nagata, "You win. Your God is stronger than mine." (Mar. 20. 2023)

There are, doubtless, others like "Uncle Nagata" who have answered God's call by following Him with their all only to find themselves crippled by the enemy's cruelties. Please know our Lord is watching; Heaven's hosts are aware; and careful annotation is being made in the annals of eternal "Halls of Fame".

One Day, before multitudes of Christians, our Captain Himself will declare His pleasure; and endured shame will turn into greater joy in being able to cast crowns at His feet. I'm sure Grampa Nagata knew that was coming.

The last photo? That's Grampa Nagata having a picnic with the family out in our yard after we moved to our new house.