Taking the Long View

(Post written on paper March 26)

I'm sitting in the waiting room of the hospital where I was born exactly 57 years ago today. (It's just a routine exam–no worries.) I have time to think back on what that day might have been like for my mother.

Though the hospital itself has been completely rebuilt, the nearby shopping street is amazingly familiar. Obviously I don't remember my birth, but our family frequently came here to Ogikubo from the 1950s onward. The streets are still only the width of a city bus. The merchants still sell sweet bean and pounded rice treats. The launderer still irons shirts by the large picture window. And bicycles still jostle with pedestrians coveting a path to the train station.

What's different is that now walkers are listening to their iPods or messaging on their smart phones. I'm sure when I was born, my mom never imagined such technology or that I'd be here in Japan in my 31st year as a missionary.

What has kept us here when in 1986 we were told our deaf daughter needed special education, when in 2006 Russ had his massive stroke, when on March 11, 2011 the earth shook violently causing tsunamis and radiation leaks, and when people remain resistant to the gospel despite our efforts to share the good news? It comes down to taking the long view.

Our lives on earth are so short. If I focus on my immediate comfort, safety, or personal satisfaction, I miss out on the peace God offers when I just do the next right thing.

Sometimes the next right thing is sticking with it when the going gets rough. Other times it's leaving my comfort zone and boldly trying new things.

Suffering has many purposes such as drawing me closer to God, using my situation to encourage others, or redirecting us. When I focus on my present pain...well, it's awful. But when I recognize God's soveregnty in my life, I can rest knowing that all that really matters is the last chapter of my life–eternity.  The long view reveals beauty that a snapshot view misses.

So this day I choose to enjoy the pleasures and remember that the pain is temporary–part of God's great design to prepare me for eternity.