“Ake-mashite Omedetou Gozaimasu”

Happiness in the Dawn of the New Year.

This year, to be different, let's talk about Japan's New Year!
There are lots of traditions, must-have decorations, witnessing the year's "firsts" , and a variety of auspicious foods that are eaten to celebrate this holiday. The country is veritably shut-down from the 1st - 3rd. The streets are eerily empty because everyone is inside with their families.

People prepare for the most important holiday in Japan around mid-December when they begin sending out traditional New Year’s postcards called Nengajyo. The whole of Japan participates in this, except if there is a death in the family, in which people are to send simple postcards explaining that they cannot send the traditional card due to the death of a loved one. It is considered disrespectful to the dead. These cards contain pre-printed formal phrases wishing happiness, early spring or simply happy New Year. Very much like our Christmas cards, these postcards traditionally arrive on January 1st. It’s a very cool custom, I think, as I love mail-and lots of it arrival at once is even better!

On the 31st of December homes are cleaned from top to bottom to Japanese homes, the old is swept out. Often times there are parties called

To be continued...

A Fresh Look at Winter

Happy New Year, everyone! (2010).

I wanted to share this story with you while I prepare to enjoy the new snowfall promised us over the first weekend of the new year and into the next week.

This is a piece I wrote about two years ago, in March when the season was getting ready to change. It reflects my first or second winter home after being in tropical climates for the past ten years. I was so worried about how I would adapt and yet, God opened my eyes to all its beauty. See the end of the season through Buddy and my eyes...
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A Fresh Look at Winter

Home never seemed like exotic foreign soil before. Then again, I never walked with my best friend through a wooded landscape in mid-winter experiencing every phase of snow that comes with it. It’s as if I’m experiencing everything for the first time -- the look and feel of the trees, the array of sounds emanating from the many branches, the beauty of the deer, the screech of the hawk and the feeling of serenity found within its borders. Wrapped in a warm parka, inner and outer scarves, gloves, a cap and boots, my Black Lab and I savor the rich culture we encounter each time we stroll through the stretch of land near my home. I feel exactly as if I’ve been detailed out to an unfamiliar yet beautiful country.

First of all, we’re in our own little world as we walk. Except for the driver of a single red car that passes us each morning on his route to work, we rarely encounter other people or wild creatures so we feel free to roam. I unleash Buddy and he leaps off the road, diving into snow banks, flying across fields, up hills and out of sight. I, too, feel liberated. I can even lie down and make snow angels! So often I taste the snowflakes tickling me. Light and airy, they trickle down from my eyes and cheeks numbing my face and making my nose run. A few minutes later, Buddy races over to me, his snout wet and frost-covered. Panting with delight, he tilts his face upward and swallows gigantic snowflakes. Who is there to see our abandon? The solitude and our exploration of the area leave us breathless.

Sometimes after a refreshing snowfall we come across deer markings. Buddy leans in close to catch their scent as I examine the height, width and shape of the marks. In deep snow, Buddy prefers to wade along the deer’s snow wake instead of venturing out on his own. As interlopers on their native territory, we acknowledge the local population without changing it.

Lately, I have begun to analyze the deer’s tracks. Other ‘natives’ may learn to read them from an early age but like any foreign language I must consciously study it and then go out and apply what I’ve learned. Some tracks are perfectly heart-shaped while others resemble delicate curvy quotation marks. I can now predict what direction the deer are moving and if they are traveling fast or slow by their markings. Just this morning I found tracks in my driveway. I like to think the deer are as curious about Buddy and me as we are about them.

As March comes to an end the edges of the large pond we pass begin to thin, although at midpoint the ice remains firm. Dirty slush heaps up in ugly mounds at the side of the road replacing the feathery-white snow we love to wander through. Some days thick sloppy mud sucks at the treads of my boots. Blue streaks peek through the perpetual gray skies, and the threat of bursting from our warm familiar cocoon looms over us. The sounds we’ve become most accustomed to – train whistles, bare branches moaning in the wind, snow crunching underfoot, the zoom of airplanes flying above, a woodpecker’s knock, and the hawk’s cry -- have served to tie us to my homeland. But it won’t be ours alone anymore. As the weather progressively improves, I know groups of fishermen, more vehicles, and chipmunks, squirrels, raccoons along with the white-tail deer will join us on our solitary path.

When spring arrives, Buddy will come alive barking at the many dogs he encounters as we change routes and the solitude fades. Winding the leash around my wrists I’ll have to drag him away from the source of his growling, woofing frenzy as I attempt to motivate him to go ‘my’ way. I must stand by on constant alert, ready to deal with moving vehicles, kids, adults, and wild creatures of all kinds.

Thinking of the remnants of snow caked on Buddy’s snout, the fresh deer tracks we’ve come to cherish, and the newly forged paths we initiate as a light curtain of white envelops us, I wish winter could continue forever. Like time standing still, I feel protected in the center of that glass sphere people pick up to shake and the soap flakes flutter all about. The unrealistic desire to stop time seems entirely plausible when I replay the pleasure we have on our winter walks.

God has led me to appreciate the unique sights and culture of a foreign country within my own backyard. Through His extraordinary binoculars, Buddy and I have seen new vistas up close. It’s as if we’ve danced under an exquisite sky of feathery white fine particles. The white-tail deer seem as exotic to us as the snowfall is common to you. As Buddy and I attempt to interpret the language of the deer and listen to the sounds of the hawk cry in the forest while a train whistles nearby and snow drips “Plop! Plop! Plop!” from spindly branches, we enjoy God’s world that much more.

Deeper Spiritual Journey

When I first came home from the Middle East, I left an excellent full-time teaching job with comprehensive benefits. My self-confidence took a nose dive when my writing career didn’t take off as I had envisioned. Although I knew it would take time, I am not sure that I really believed I could succeed. I wanted to follow through on my plan to become a published writer but I began to feel very inadequate and directionless.

Instead, God opened a familiar door: teaching. But when I started teaching again, I had to adapt to different kinds of teaching systems here in the US, content-specific subjects, and a new lecture style. Then a new age group as I supplemented my income with a few high school classes of Spanish. I had no benefits with either job and was earning a pittance of what I earned before.

Now I realize that God has placed me exactly where He wants me to be and He will provide my needs.

This year, the Spanish classes that I felt so inadequate in teaching last year fell into place. I started out with renewed confidence and enthusiasm, great teaching ideas and a much stronger rapport with my students and colleagues. I feel in control this year! I also started to become more confident and successful in the college teaching system.I will take on two more classes in the spring term.

In addition, my writing has taken me on a deeper spiritual journey. I feel so grateful to God for being patient with me.

God has been teaching me how to cultivate a relationship with Him that brings more peace to my life. Lately, He has opened doors for me in my writing field. I am so excited to use my writing talents to bring God glory!

I feel that He has great plans for me that I haven’t dreamed of yet. It suddenly makes me wonder if I hadn’t been so aimless and lacking in confidence earlier, would I have been able to accomplish the writing goals I had set out to achieve? If only I had had that faith and determination to keep going. I’ll never know if the delay was part of His plan or if He allowed it and provided my teaching as a back-up. But I do know that He makes all things work for my good because I am called according to His purposes. He has given me that promise, and that peace.

This year, don’t let your hearts be troubled. Let God give you that peace that the world cannot offer. Whether your struggle is hidden or visible to others, embrace yourself in whatever state that you are in. Use that as the opportunity to deepen your relationship with our Father, and let the Holy Spirit guide you through each day.

Isn’t it exciting when God speaks to us through our experiences?! Big ones like I have been going through and little ones like an attitude we display on any given day? You know, I’m the first to admit I make so many mistakes but God is working with me to help me become optimistic toward my future.

Peace ... Ours for the Taking...

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid.”—John 14:27, NIV

Last year, I struggled with teaching a new course at the college, and two new courses at the high school. In some ways, my life felt like it had fallen apart. I had new vision loss (a much bigger chunk) and added hearing loss to the equation. I was told I should use a blind man’s cane … well, for the rest of my life. I was not reconciled to living my life with these obstacles. In fact, some of my friends insisted I was in denial!

This year, the scripture above changed my outlook. I realized that God had a plan for my life, and that plan included Retinitis Pigmentosa and Usher’s Syndrome (the names given to my vision and hearing loss). I realized that I had two choices: to accept or rail against these changes. As far as I know, God has no plans to remove them. So, little by little I allowed God to change my heart toward my circumstances. I began to see myself in a different light and to be proactive—to develop the skills I would need to cope with these problems long-term. Once I took that step, God placed a much greater peace in my life. Needless to say, this year I’ve taken greater steps in my personal spiritual growth.

January started out with despair. I still pretended to be in control and acted as if I didn’t have any vision problems whatsoever, which, of course, only enhanced my inability to deal with it. I thought I was hiding it from my colleagues and students, but really it controlled me, and left me appearing inept in both professional situations and personal circumstances. One day, in tears, I asked my sister-in-law, “Why can’t I tell my students what is going on? Why can’t I get the words out?” How could I be so self-conscious … and flawed?! I put myself down all the time. It came out in the form of jokes with my friends.

But once I began my cane training in February or March, my attitude began to change. Each time I went out for cane practice with my mobility instructor, I came back with more confidence. God led my principal to ask me to share my experiences with the high school student body. Shocked, I didn’t think I would be able to follow through on her wishes. But by May, God not only enabled me, He gave me such an enthusiasm for sharing that I brought every visual and hearing aid tool I could think of. I wanted to give our students an idea of how God provides so abundantly for us in our circumstances!

When I began to read Braille, I bubbled over with more excitement. I began to practice every day. It was simply another language to me. By this time, I had developed an excellent rapport with my counselors at the Blind Center. My mobility trainer suggested I get more intense training in Louisiana. Instead, God provided another training opportunity closer to home in Cleveland where I could learn these same skills.

I spent three weeks blindfolded, at my insistence, to learn adaptive techniques that would make me successful when more vision loss came my way. My trainers and colleagues all had less vision than me! I learned that blindness encompasses a range of loss-from legal blindness to total blindness. Exposure to other blind people taught me that none of us were flawed in the way I once envisioned. Instead, I felt empowered.

Every time I turned around that scripture came to mind. When I felt overwhelmed, God would remind me who was in control and peace would seep back into me.

The Candlelight Service

My ears perked up. A candlelight service? My church! Were they actually going to have a special service in the evening? Pardon me for thinking this, but this was highly unusual for a church that believes worship at Christmas time should be like any other Sunday of the year, that we should celebrate Our Lord’s birth every week...well, we all believe that, don't we? I was thrilled to find my church at the threshold of change. Forgive me if I did a double-take. This was one service I would not miss!

That night I took my cane in to church for the first time. I felt a little self-conscious using it front of our small congregation. I just wanted to be seated and out of view. Marilyn waved to me and motioned for me to sit next to her. Her husband, John, stood up to let me pass. Thankfully, I began to fold up my cane and place it near my feet when one of the elders took the microphone.

“Come on, everyone, up t’ the front of the church. Let’s fill up those first few pews.”

I groaned. Everyone would be moving forward, and I would have to use my cane in front of them as we resituated ourselves. We all shuffled forward like obedient sheep.

I now found myself seated next to Paula, the elder’s wife.

She turned toward me, “Now, Amy, I don’t know very much about this—is it mac—“

I smiled, “Well, it’s a form of macular degeneration…” I gave her the short take on it. She herself had suffered breast cancer so I felt at ease in discussing it.

Richard, our elder, leaned on a lectern in front of the church and began to speak, “So how many of you will be participating in this service?”

“Would you like me to get you a candle?” Paula asked.

“Oh, thank you. I can get it myself.” I assured.

“No need, John will get one for all of us,” my friend, Marilyn, piped up.

Richard launched into a complicated set of instructions. Oh no! I had envisioned simply holding a candle at my seat, and singing, or listening to a devotional. Not so tonight!

“…now if you are married, both husband and wife can come up together to light your candle, and stand while the scripture reading is being read. Then you will be seated in the pews opposite, on the other side of the church. If you're single, you'll go up alone…”

The “what-ifs” began in my mind. What if I trip over someone’s legs and sprawl out in front of the congregation? What if I knock over the candle? What if I can’t find my way to the opposite pew? What if run into the communion table? The possibilities were endless. Okay, that does it! I am not participating! I whispered as much to Marilyn. She whispered something back, but I couldn’t catch it. I wasn’t even wearing my hearing aids.

The lights began to dim, one-by-one. Finally, we sat in darkness. I mean it—darkness!

But a little voice inside me began to lecture, You can’t shine “the light” only when it’s convenient. God expects more from us than that. Remember Amy, he never asks us to do anything without equipping us. You remembered your cane. You know how to use it. So when it’s your time, just stand up and get goin’.

I bit my nails as I waited my turn. Finally, Paula stood up and set out. She would walk alone as her husband was already up front leading the scripture readings. Paula had survived her cancer. She never seemed to worry or hesitate. She looked out at the audience with a serene smile. As she left to sit down, I stood up. My heart was pounding.

Marilyn stood up, too, as did her husband. “We’ll go with you,” she said quietly. She held onto my shoulder and we moved out. My cane smacked against the heat register at the end of our pew. Oh no! I quickly turned right. Marilyn guided me to the table ahead. My hand trembled as I lit my candle, then I stepped aside for her and John to do likewise. The three of us stood in front of the church while the scripture was read. My candle illuminated my cane--or at least part of it--in front of the whole congregation. I tried to smile. I have no recollection what the scripture reading focused on as I stood there. With a tap on my shoulder from Marilyn, I moved out and headed for the pew on the opposite side. I didn’t know where the next person was seated so rather than stumble over them, I chose to move to a new pew. At last, I was seated in the audience and watching others move forward; why, even children participated!

Singing followed the devotional; all our songs contained “the light” somewhere in the lyrics…send the light; this little light of mine; walking in the light, to name a few. I relaxed and sang along with the rest of the congregation. My brothers and sisters. What a great family--and feeling!

As the lights slowly filled the room, I rose. Naturally, I reached for my cane. God had provided for me, as usual. Nothing had gone wrong. I didn’t embarrass myself in any way—unless you count banging the heat register. That didn't last very long.

Lord, continue to show me that You are Master of every new situation I face. Give me courage to move through the darkness—both literally and spiritually. I want to become the light You so desire me to be at every turn. No matter … how unfamiliar the territory… who is watching … who I feel may be judging me. What if I do trip? Maybe I won’t know exactly where to go … or what to say or do in my position as Your child. Simply fill me with courage to move out of my comfort zone.

God, You so clearly wove the physical and the spiritual together in an extraordinary lesson for me: Don’t be a light only when it’s convenient. Between my cane and my friend’s assistance, you supplied my needs to enable me to move forward in the physical darkness. I only needed to do one thing: trust You and take that step.

Let me apply those same principles in the spiritual darkness that this world holds. Help me to always take that first step forward.

My Perfect Skating Partner

That night bathed in light on the pond below my house, I skated to the hearty applause of an imaginary Olympic audience. It came pretty close to perfection. I skated in a figure-eights pattern, then turned and skated ever so skillfully backwards. After that came my version of the half twist jump, followed by the abrupt fall on my behind.

I wonder how God must feel when we give him foot-stomping, wild applause? I imagine how he is bathed in his own light. He accomplished feats far more splendid than gliding on the ice--I mean, he walked on the water! He stilled the seas! He healed the people! He speaks to each one of us every day of our lives. He is both great and small...magnificent, and yet, personal. Back then, I admired Dorothy Hamill for her smooth moves on the ice as she skated in rhythm to beautiful songs--but I think our Lord has moved in more ways, in a thousand more directions and to so many heart-rendering songs more than this Olympic winner can ever hope to skate to.

My God is not only a champion, he is also my skating partner. When I jump, he must be there to catch me in mid-spin and to throw me out again to watch me land on my toes, to twirl around and do that figure-eight thing I so love to do. I must be able to run into his arms and to dance with him on the ice-our hands catching, meeting, letting go, and coming together once again. I know how to skate backwards and I know that I have to lean into my partner. He will give me that final push I need to finish my recital with flourish.

I never want to lose my delight in this sport because I learned today that God is a magnificent champion skater but he is also my personal skating partner on the arena with me.

I think for a moment. Why, I'm even like one of the many roses in a beautiful bouquet thrown to him after a superb performance; I know he will gather me in his arms and lift me up, perfumed, to his father in heaven.

The applause is deafening. But it's no longer for me. It's for a champion, and my perfect skating partner. It's for my Savior. He's the one that catches me when I fall; yet he's so much more. The applause turns to awe-inspired silence. The thought comes to me: Every knee shall bow, every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.

I feel goosebumps on my arm. The image of me skating with the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, and yet someone with whom I can interact with on such a personal level is pretty mind-boggling. And therein lies the uniqueness of Jesus Christ. He meets everybody on a level in whch they can relate to.

Ice Skater's Delight

With our second snowfall of the year, an ice-skating memory came to mind. Share my beautiful ice skating experience with me...

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We had lovely and very active winters in northwestern Pennsylvania where I grew up. There were plenty of hills and toboggan slides near my house to play on after a heavy snowfall. But what I enjoyed most was the pond below my house. When it froze over, the neighborhood kids would get together and shovel enough snow to the slides so that we could skate on it. The municipality eventually built us a shelter where we changed into and out of our skates. They even provided a small electric heater.

In blustery afternoons, we would bundle up and head for the pond. We all came those days--boys and girls, kids and teenagers. We made short work of the shoveling. The older and braver ones would soon play "Crack the Whip." Others, like myself would skate nearby or watch them. The tough guys skidded around on their sporty black skates, and the teenage girls flirted. That usually resulted in the teenage boys throwing packed snowballs at them as they chased them over the ice. The girls shrieked as they dodged snowballs or tried to avoid getting the cold stuff down their backs. I glided around and watched it all second-hand--my eyelashes frosted over with snow, my cheeks red and my eyes glowed. What wonderful afternoons! "Come on, Kathy, " I'd call to my best friend, "The pond's frozen over again!"

I remember one particularly brilliant night when I went down to skate by myself just after dinner, around 6 pm. The biting cold sliced through my ski jacket and whistled up my sleeves as I fiddled with the key to unlock the door. Once inside, I felt my way to where the lights were, and flipped on the switch. The 60-watt but gave off little light. I could just see where the small heater sat. I turned that on, and sat down on one of the benches to change into my skates. As I laced up my last skate, a surge of excitement went through me.

Soon, I made my way out of the shed and clunked down the snowy incline that bordered the pond. Soon, I glided in the fresh, night air. The pond had been shoved earlier, and the streetlights shone on the ice. I avoided the bumps, but skated easily on the smoother ice. I think I can skate backwards...lemme try a figure eight. I practiced doing this for awhile.

The pond became an Olympic arena and I was Dorothy Hamill. I arched my neck, held my head high and my arms out, propelling me effortlessly along the ice. I leaned down until I almost touched the ice with my chin. Then I straightened up and with long, firm strides, circled the pond. My (invisible) awestruck audience clapped wildly, which spurred me on to attempt a jump--of course, a half-circle twirl--which, unfortunately landed me with a painful bang on my behind.

The audience faded away and the music disappeared. I was just Amy,a sixteen-year-old skater, in the evening light. So what? Even the best fall, right? I picked myself up and marveled at my ability to maneuver on blades. I loved skating backwards. So effortless. I felt so free and alive!

An hour later, the cold crept through my various layers of clothing, snuck into the joints of my gloved hand and settled down into my toes. Time to get off the ice. I changed out of my skates, shut off the lights and heater, and then carefully locked the door. With my white skates slung over my shoulder, I crunched thoughtfully back up the crusty, snow-covered road that led home. I savored the delicious feeling that came over me whenever I finished skating.

Ahhh... Now to get out of my snow-covered blue jeans and drink a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows. I'm so glad that I live just over the hill from the pond.

Looking back, I don't think that night could have been any more perfect!