GREW UP THERE

I really couldn't tell if I'd posted this picture or not, but since I couldn't find it anywhere, I thought I'd chance posting it. Apologies if it's a repeat.

Recently, I've been in touch with Noriko Sensei (teacher), the person who sent that monetary gift to Okinawa. I got excited about the newspaper article series she'd written, and she responded for me to send her my drawings/writings. She had time now to see them all, she said. So, I began with sketches and snatches of life and short paragraphs, then I went onto longer works of several pages, all dealing with myself, family, or Okinawa: all topics of interest to Noriko Sensei.

I didn't realize there were so many things I remembered about Okinawa until I started gathering them to send Noriko Sensei. More importantly, I didn't realize, until I was in the middle of doing this, how much I'd loved the island I grew up on..or dear servants of God I knew like Noriko Sensei when I was growing up there.

HANG ONTO YOUR FATHER

"Don't let go."

Daddy's big toe, those coral formations, the jello-like clear water--I remembered them as I sketched. Yesterday, I made a quick copy of Isao Uchihara's beautiful painting of Manza Mo, one of Okinawa's coral shores. God sent along his works to whisper encouragement to me--from his bio, I surmised he would be in his 70's. Maybe I could draw like that one day, but for now, I was happy making this, a bookmark.

Oh--I didn't tell you the reason for the "Don't let go," did I? When the family went to the beach, sometimes Daddy told us areas near coral reefs seem shallow but sometimes drop off into steep cliffs, and you can find yourself in water over your head. The only way we girls--we couldn't swim then--were allowed to go there was if we promised to hold onto Daddy's feet while he swam on his back.

You can say it was like slow body surfing and water skiing for a little girl like me, being towed around like that!

To me, Daddy was a strong swimmer (I didn't know he'd taught himself), and if a wave or shark or jellyfish came and put me in danger, I knew Daddy would come and save me. So I was all right, as long as I held onto him. No matter what, I didn't let go of Daddy's foot.

I can just cling, Even Jacob, whose hip was out of joint, could manage to do that. He saw a "big wave coming", and said, unless I know I have Your help, I'm sunk! And he'd held on with all his might.

A Few More from February, Actually

Here are several other experiences from my short time in Okinawa. Let me post their drawings first then tell you a little about the multiple drawings in the second.

The first is a quick sketch I did of a young mother my sister Janice met on the plane on her way to Okinawa. Apparently, she is an Okinawan married to an American, sat down at the piano in our living room--Janice asked her to sing and play for us, and when I saw her child's response and saw Janice pick her up and rock her, I couldn't stop myself from drawing the scene.

Junko Filllmer, the second person, also married to an American, took Janice and me to a historic site as well as to an art museum on a day when Joyce was busy with music lessons. The historic site she took us to was an old castle ruin with beautiful ocean view.

The samurai character in the top left? Videos showed how an Okinawan lord, Amawari, long thought to be a traitor, might have actually been a hero! God seemed to whisper: "Sometimes, truth can be unearthed decades later--sometimes. But your Everlasting Father sees all the time what is happening; don't worry about what other people think and just live for My Eyes."

Another reason this was exciting is because Junko and the Amawari account continued something "My brother" Brian told me about in Ishigaki a few days earlier. I e-mailed Brian and told him I heard the entire story.

Bokuten, a gifted Okinawan blockprint artist, was featured at the art gallery Junko took us to. My sister Janice went shopping at shops nearby and let art lovers Junko and me spend as much time as we wanted ogling all his things (he does more than just blockprints).

Oh, of course his work was way better than my drawing of it; It's just that the blue rock thrush (iso hiyo dori) showed up outside the window at the place Junko took us to for lunch, and it was in one of Bokuten's prints, so I just wanted to post it here. Besides, that's my favorite theme of Bokuten' works: coming out of the shadows onto a sunlit beach area.

Anyway, thank you, Lord, for such an enjoyable day.

AMBITIOUS ADAN ART?

This is the Adan, the pineapple-like fruit that grows on trees that can be found along most beaches on Okinawa. I tried to draw one I'd photographed near the place my sisters and I had our picnic before spending a night at the resort in Feb (Feb.15 post).

It was my first attempt at drawing a sunbeam along with that tiny visual prism-thingy, but it didn't turn out at all like I wanted...oh well...everyone's gotta start somewhere. You can't grow if you don't wanna make stupid mistakes trying things you don't know how because you never did it before.

I am glad God, to whom nothing is new, is so gentle in bringing everything down to a level I understand; then patient as I try to learn, and I can feel comfortable about sharing anything with Him--He's never laughed at me I don't know what I'd do if I had a God who expected me to get it right all the time! I think I'd either be a phony or a nervous wreck.

Thank you for praying for Joyce. The doctor has given her medicine to take at home and will give her another checkup in June, so she will begin her round of churches in a little over a week now--whew.

LEFT ALONE, I'D GET LIKE...ACK!

Yes, we remembered those nasturtiums in the yard. My younger sister and I, in our junior high years, would sneak up on the rooftop with our guitar and ukulele and sing for hours, to those flowers.

At the end of January, when my sisters and I were all together again in Okinawa, we went back to the place where the old house used to be. It was difficult to even find the road that turned into the street the house was on. It's so narrow now. Before, there were two huge tombs on one side and a car wash on the other.

But now, one of the tombs is completely gone, and the other is so unkempt, it's apparent that the custodian found need himself for a tomb too.

All talking stopped when we saw the structures in front of us. There were no flowers brightening yards, but weeds fighting each other, and no rich, dark soil, but hard, dry concrete with sand and crumbling rock.

Now I see why Mommy spent hours weeding, trimming, fertilizing, caring for the yard. If she'd left it alone, it would've looked like what we were looking at.

Sometimes I wished God would leave me alone. I hope He never grants that kind of wish.

OH TO GET THE BEST

I think I got the best one.

When my sisters and I went to Uncle Seiko's in Feb, our cousin Chieko gave each of us handmade gifts. To one sister, she gave an article sewn in a time-consuming "Cathedral Window" patchwork style. My other sister got a set of beautiful coasters for entertaining company. My gift was a quilted pouch made of fabrics from things belonging to her mother, with a sturdy zipper pull.

It's not just the fact that I use that pouch to put in some sketching utensils and take it with me everywhere I go and have made 64 drawings with it since I got it--and I love that zipper pull!

Chieko doesn't realize how much I loved her mother. She had pulled me to the side from time to time to ask me to pray with her from years back...from years before Uncle Seiko got saved, years before some of the grandkids were born, some adoptions had taken place, when they were still living in the old wooden traditional house. So when she told me of what the pouch was made, that meant more to me than if she'd gone out and bought an expensive one at a leather goods store.

But a pouch is just a pouch, where moth will eat through the lovely quilting and rust will do its work on even that zipper pull I so love. Friday was Uncle Seiko's funeral. Oh that my cousins would prepare for the time when moth and rust will be no more! 

DIDN'T HAVE TO; JUST DID

It was a red light anyway. I stopped, turned around and saw growing on the ground behind me something that wouldn't have arrested my attention any other day. But at that moment...

I had been down to my sister's in Okinawa just after my stepmother's passing away. Both mothers are gone now, I had been thinking, and had decided to take a walk that morning, when those orange nasturtiums seemed to smile, "Remember?"

I did. Mommy had orange nasturtiums crawling all over the rock garden of our Ojana yard. 

It's not just Red Lights God sends, sometimes  happy little reminders like this. He doesn't have to; He just does. He is so kind.

Jusy Tagging Along

I almost forgot.

The first Sunday my sisters and I were in Okinawa--Jan.29--we pinch hit for the special music. She notified Joyce that week she wasn't feeling well, so we decided to do a trio we used to sing together years ago: "All That Thrills My Soul Is Jesus"; do you know it?

Joyce, the pianist, you may remember from the Nov.30,2022 post, was a blue medalist in a university voice competition; Janice teaches piano in the U.S. Me? I sound nice when I tag along with the alto part.

Kinda like genuine Christian living. God sends ALL the grace, but His children get to ride on His coattails, beam, and pretend like we deserve some kind of credit.

THAT SOUND HAS TO BE...

I'd been walking around Duck Pond at the park when I thought I heard the plucking of strings I heard only in Okinawa. That's the sound that comes from a musical instrument I got used to hearing while growing up on the island. Wait...why am I hearing that sound...here in Saitama, mainland Japan, a land a thousand miles away?

I raised my eyes and turned my head around the park path. There, on a rock on the side of the pond, sat an elderly woman with a....I had to look several times to be sure...SAMISEN. She was playing it old traditional style, with a big black pick worn on the finger.

Samisen. The Okinawan three-stringed musical instrument. The mainland Japanese version has the squarish body covered in cat gut. The Okinawan instrument however, appears a bit more round and is covered by habu skin.

I had to say something to let the person know I so appreciated her playing the sounds of my childhood there at the park, so I did. But then I realized I didn't know a thing more about Okinawan music or Okinawan musical instruments so wouldn't be able to converse, maybe should've kept my big mouth shut.

I was glad when somebody else stopped by--it seems Okinawans ALWAYS comment whenever they hear samisen music, according to this woman playing her traditional instrument. I made a hasty exit before I could be asked something I wouldn't be able to answer and reveal my ignorance.

I love Okinawa and want to claim it as my own but know so little about it--I wonder how many others there are like me?

SEIKO & SIX COUSINS

I remember crying when I sat in the worship service of Gushikawa Baptist Church many years ago. My Aunt Yoshi was sitting in the back with her unsaved husband Seiko sitting next to her. I was glad he'd agreed to come, but when the song chosen had to do about how we'd all be meeting One Day in Heaven...and I knew Uncle Seiko would not be there...well, I just could not go on singing. I found myself crying.

It was a few years later, my stepmother Kiyo led Seiko to Christ! When we sang of Heaven later, I knew my crying had changed to tears of joy.

101 years old. That's how old he is now. Oh--Seiko's the one who went swimming with Daddy in the river when Daddy came to Okinawa for 2 of his grade school years, the only blood relative who converted to Christianity as a result of Daddy's missionary work while he was alive.

During our time together in Okinawa last month, my sisters and I went to Uncle Seiko's house and had a meal with him and his 3 children--in other words, 6 cousins sat around plates of sushi, laughing about old photos. We'd gone to Sunday School and Summer Camps together.

Their mother, Yoshi, of this family, found freedom from the bondage to demon ancestors and was a vibrant believer. She is now with the Savior she fervently adored. The children: Masako, Morii, and Chieko, have yet to follow the faith they have seen in their parents. How we long to see the day we can say everyone in this picture will show up that Day in Glory too!

SISTERS

As part of our time together in Okinawa, my sister Janice used some points to treat Joyce and me to an overnight stay at the ANA Intercontinental Hotel.

The actual treat began before even approaching the entrance lobby, as we picnicked on the grass near the front beach. A friendly little butterfly welcomed us, doing its best to keep its pretty wings open for us even when landing altho' they usually fold them, knowing humans usually enjoy seeing their pretty colors on the wings.

Our room was up on the 7th floor of the resort, where we were able to relax, reminisce, pray together, and enjoy the beautiful Okinawa scenery as evidence of how our loving Father would continue to bless us, His own.

Here is a drawing of the day God gave us. That's Janice reading from a book of memoirs; Joyce holding a laptop on her tummy while listening to her; and yours truly standing in front of the blinds--there's a story behind that.

TOXIC? LIFESAVER? WHICH?

I knew I had seen it.

The cycads, highly poisonous palm-like trees, are seen all over Okinawa. I had a vague recollection of islanders who were saved from starvation by learning to extract and cook the pulp of the plant. When eaten raw, it can cause internal bleeding, liver damage, and even death, but it had actually been the very means of saving many lives.

I remember seeing an Amami Oshima country maiden figurine made of cycad seed, showing the people's gratitude for how that plant had kept them alive.

Perhaps sometimes the things that seem the most toxic to us could be the very things God would use to save our lives.

(Actually, the figurine I saw was much cuter, but I can't find a photograph of it, so I'll have to draw one from memory, ok?)