Come to Me You Who Are Weary....

When I first started teaching here in Japan, I thought that my students were perfect. After-all, they were polite, they would bow to me, the baseball boys would greet me with a swoop of their hats, they would carry my books, they would escort me to classes... I never heard a foul word, I never saw a weapon, I never saw a fight!

That was two years ago. In two years, one can learn a lot of things like the actual state of my kids' lives. Recently, I have come to realize that my dear girls and boys are just that -- girls and boys so desperate to be loved, but oh so very lost! The state of my children breaks my heart. Yes, my children may seem more disciplined than many students back home, but it doesn't mean that they don't have issues. In fact, my school happens to be one of the rougher schools in the area.

Oh, how my heart breaks when I hear of yet another student dropping out or how the school had to hire weekend help to replace yet another broken window or wash away yet another bit of graffiti. Oh, how my heart sobs when my school nurse escorts a fourteen-year-old girl to the abortion clinic. Oh, how I want to hug the fifteen-year-old whose parent committed suicide. Oh, how I want to love the unloved -- the boy who smokes, the one who comes daily with dirty clothes, the one with dirt-caked fingernails, the one who smells, the one who tried to give himself a tattoo with drastic results.

When I first started teaching, I had visions of creating a bilingual school. However, I have come to realize that my kids don't want to speak English. They don't see the point. They don't see the need. After-all, their expectations and dreams hardly go beyond the onion and potato fields they work in. What these children really need is Love.

Oh how I want to love my children. Oh, how I want to take care of them. But, oh, how inferior I feel! As the foreigner, I can't say much -- I don't understand much. When I have a smile on my face, I feel so fake. My happy-go-lucky attitude just doesn't seem right when I know that my students are grieving -- although half of the time I really don't know why. Sometimes, it is honestly easier to get caught up in the stress of the other teachers.

My dear teachers -- I grieve for them, too! Their lives completely revolve around school. They are responsible for these kids because Japanese parents think that it is the school's responsibility to raise them. If something goes wrong, it is the school that is first contacted. It is the school that has to get the students from the police. It is the school that has to apologize to the community. And these poor teachers hardly know how to deal with the stress. Usually their coping method involves heavy doses of alcohol and tobacco (and an optional insurance-covered brain MRI to make sure that they don't have an aneurysm).

This is the life I face everyday. What should I do? What can I do? I desperately desire to be a light to this dark nation. I want the love of God to radiate through me. I want to love the unloved. But, I am so tired and weary. I interact with an average of 1500 students and 60 or more teachers a week. Sometimes it is just too easy to be caught up in my own life -- in my own attempts to survive in this foreign land. I find myself imitating the non-smiling "wooden faces" of the Japanese and turning a blinded "its not my problem" eye.

But, is that how Christ loved? Is that what He did when He was on this earth? Some people think that I care to much for this nation that is not my own. Some people think that I love my students too much for not really being a teacher. I question if they are right. What really can I do? What can one illiterate foreigner do?

Why am I here? Why did God call me to such a challenging place? Oh, it would be so much easier to run home to the loving arms of my family. To the smiles of my nieces -- to the protective care of my parents. How I sometimes wish I could. People ask me why I don't. I ask myself that same question. The answer is short, but not easy -- its because I know that I am here for a reason. God has called me to this land. Why? I don't know. I don't know how I can impact, but I can only pray and trust that I can, as a broken vessel, do the service to which he has called me.

Today in church the pastor spoke on Matthew 11:28-30:

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

What an encouragement! What a gentle breeze in desert! What a deluge of cold water for the parched soul! What words to bring tears and draw one to their knees.

Please pray for the lost country of Japan. They are so lost. So desperate. In the past month alone, over 2500 people have committed suicide. How they need God's saving grace. Please pray for me as well. I have been emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted this weekend. Pray that I can know how to best help my students and teachers. Pray that I can be a witness and that I can truly live up to my Japanese name -- emiri: a reason to smile.

I will conclude with this -- a song sent to me many months ago by my dear friend Allison. It has been a blessing to me and my prayer