EARNING BEEF

Altho' because of the summer heat, I'm not able to get out to say hello to the Gushikawa Baptist Church folk meeting nearby, they stil pray for and welcome our family's coming to Okinawa. If that isn't a display of God's Love, I don't know what is!  As a matter of fact, one of its newest members, Jaime, rode over a bicycle he felt either my husband or son could use.

The day after we got to Okinawa, my sister Joyce showed us nearby grocery stores, post office, clinic (for me especially), and convenience stores we would most likely be going to from now on. My husband and son set to work right away when boxes of things arrived from mainland Japan, finding places for everything. They have situated themselves well, moving furniture around to ensure our best living there for many years. 

After a good hard day's work, we ordered a few "beef bowls", one of the yummier--altho' more expensive-- fast foods, because, I think, the fellas well, felt famished! They practically swallowed it down.

The next day, my husband used the bicycle right away for a little spin to a distant store to shop for some necessities, and we've settled in even more. I was glad that night to get rested up for the Lord's Day, finding myself happy and thanking God for these baby steps to our new home.

BICYCLE BRAKES AND LOCKS

(The following post resulted in seeing the care someone took to lock his bicycles outside his home near the park.)

The time I learned to ride a bicycle (3rd grade), we lived next to a huge parking lot that was a paradise to ride around in. I remember one afternoon, on my bicycle on the sidewalk about to turn the corner and come home, my "brain computer" jammed. I saw a postman--there was no e-mail; we wrote letters back then--walking in my direction. If I turned the corner, I would run straight into him. I COULDN'T!!! My brain froze. Instead of turning the handle, I let the bicycle plow on straight ahead...into the car parked at the curb!

Bonk. (Good thing my child's bicycle wasn't going very fast anyway.) The bicycle's rubber wheels hit the car's metal fenders, spilling me onto the grass. The mailman came running, questions flying.

"What are you doing? Are you all right? What happened?"

"I...I saw you...I was going to turn the corner...But if I did, I knew I would run into you, and I didn't want to do that, so I didn't know what to do and kept going straight" (like the time I stayed on the bus and went all the way to the terminal!)

"Why didn't you just put on the brakes?"

"I...yeah...uh....I didn't think about it." I didn't know what to say, really.

I think he saw I wasn't hurt (except my silly pride) and sent me back home reminding me to use the brakes next time. I can't remember too clearly. That's a memory I don't often think about, try to forget, actually; don't really know why I'm sharing it with you. Perhaps it's to show God can choose things this unbelievably foolish to serve Him and glorify Himself--all He asks is that we say, okay God, YOU DO YOUR THING, because I've proven I can make a mess doing mine.

My brain seems to put on its brakes at the wrong time then get locked in stupid.