"You have to work hard to offend Christians. By nature, Christians are the most forgiving, understanding, and thoughtful group of people I've ever dealt with. They never assume the worst. They appreciate the importance of having different perspectives. They're slow to anger, quick to forgive, and almost never make rash judgments or act in anything less than a spirit of total love . . . No, wait--I'm thinking of Labrador retrievers!" David Learn, 1998

Monday, April 11, 2011


     (New draft)
     One month today. As of this writing, there have been 966 aftershocks in Japan since March 11, an average of 32 per day.
    Between "the Japan thing" (as I have been calling it with friends) and other stressors closer to home, I'm running down, hitting a wall. I find it hard to concentrate or feel motivated. I have periods of anxiety, physical tension, knots in the stomach, others of listlessness and isolation, an inability or unwillingness to talk to or engage with anyone, or make the effort to care about one more prayer request.
     When it seemed that the next major quake might be here in California, Jerry and I talked about leaving the state for awhile. Jerry wanted to stay so if it hit we could help survivors. I said if we stayed we might be among those who needed help, whereas if we left we could come back afterward and help. On the other hand, to get out of the state we would have had to drive toward and eventually across the most ominous fault line in California. That didn't seem wise. And where would we go? What would we take? How long would we stay away? So we let it go.
     The earthquake didn't materialize (God is apparently not through with Japan yet) but even now I keep a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, tennies, 2 bottles of water, a battery-powered radio, a Bible, and a thick candle and matches in the "triangle of life" next to my side of the bed.
     I realize that 3/11/11 is my 9/11/01. From the age of 7 until 23, when I married my first husband, my home address--whether I was living in Hiroshima with my family, sailing around the world with them and three Hiroshima yachtsmen, attending high school in Honolulu, college on Maui, university in Tokyo, or Bible college in Portland, Oregon--was Yacht Phoenix, Eba, Hiroshima, Japan.
     Since March 11, hits to this blog gradually increased from eight per day to way over one hundred. Now they are thinning out again. I have no idea who most of you were. I wish I did. Hardly anyone left a comment. I wish I knew why you came, what you thought. I know why you are leaving and it's understandable. So many other, more recent concerns in the world are pushing Japan to the background, even though the needs, as one survivor pointed out, are greater than ever.  
     On April 14 it will have been one year since I started blogging, first His Scribe, then His Scribbler. Maybe I'll take a break.
     Life is short. Love each other.

P.S. All the Navigators staff members who were missing on March 15 were found alive, thanks be to God.

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