I will never forget you, February 4th.
Before I write a massive update about the past 2 weeks in Thailand, I have to share a story with you all. I hope you are encouraged by it. Today we returned home to Tokyo from Bangkok, Thailand, and, because some people on our team are still recovering from some kind of stomach infection/virus thingamajiggy, we decided to take the NEX train to Shinjuku. The NEX train is a lot faster than taking the local train home.
We were in the 7th of 12 cars in the train. There was a bathroom in the car behind us, but apparently the bathroom in the car in front of us was totally amazing. It was a big, spacious room with a heated toilet and cool wood interior, and I had to go pee again before we got off on our stop. Hence, I decided to check it out!
I went to the 6th car and had to walk through the very wobbly area in between train cars, and it was kind of scary. But hey – gotta go to the cool bathroom, right?! I got to the bathroom, and yes, it was very spacious. “Wonderful, now I must head back,” I thought to myself. I went back the same way I got there, but the door to the next car was locked. I was kind of confused and just kept trying to open the door. Then, I knocked, hoping the conductor of the train would help me out. He too looked confused as I said to him that I needed to get back to my seat and didn’t know how. His English wasn’t that bad, but I had trouble understanding what he was saying at first. He kept saying to me that the train had cars 1-6, and 7-12, and I was like ok…..but I need to get to the SEVENTH car. That’s where my seat is! I was just there with my friends! I thought he didn’t believe that I was in the 7th car or something, so I showed him my ticket. He then asked me if I was going to the Shinjuku/Tokyo area or Shinagawa, and I said Shinjuku. He had some trouble further explaining my situation, so he asked an elderly couple who were getting up from their seats to get off if they could speak English. Their level of English was a little worse, but nonetheless they helped explain to me a very shocking fact. Cars 1-6 go to Shinagawa while cars 7-12 go to Shinjuku. The train SPLITS to go to two different destinations.
I was stuck in car 6 without money, without my jacket, without my phone – I had nothing but my ticket. I was in car 7 like five minutes ago laughing away, ready to go home. The shock made my mind kind of mini-explode and tears came to my eyes. The elderly couple and the train conductor looked at me with sympathetic eyes, and it didn’t take that high a level of English to see that I was screwed and very scared. My whole STINT team was on the train en route to Shinjuku with no idea where I was. The train conductor told me to just get off at Shinagawa and transfer to Shinjuku where I could find my friends on track 5 or 6. Breathe. Then, out of nowhere, the elderly couple hands me 2,000 yen, which is a bit more than $20. I can’t accept it, but the ojiisan makes me take it. They tell me to hurry and find my friends, and the shock in my mind is lessened. “God, You are here,” I thought to myself.
I run in my dinky pajama-looking clothes to transfer to Shinjuku, surrounded by the same Japanese people I see every day on the train. I’m obviously a bit disheveled looking from the 10-hour wait in the airport and 5-hour plane ride, wearing nothing but a sweater, sweatpants, and flats while everyone else is wearing their winter coats. These are the same busy people I see every day on the train, but today is different. Tokyo seems completely new to me. Fresh, but sharp. Not because of the cold, but because I am in an utterly desperate situation. I see the same old businessmen, fashionable young adults, and school children, but I feel so much on the outside. I see them much more distinctly in that moment, as if I am looking at each person through the focused lens of a camera. I just keep talking to God, reciting the Lord’s prayer, asking Him to please let me meet my STINT team at Shinjuku without too many complications. I am a bit shaky, and also freak out because my suitcase is locked in the train with my backpack and other bag filled with important things like my laptop, favorite clothes, passport, money, etc. All I have is the ticket in my hands, 2,000 yen, and the clothes on my back. And then I realize, no. I don’t need those things. I don’t care about my items right now. What’s most important is my life, no? God wants my life, not my things. I was thrown in a situation where I literally didn’t have anything until God provided instruction and compassion in the hearts of strangers to give me money and a bit of encouragement (which I didn’t even end up using or needing).
You see, my heart has been growing very far from the nation of Japan. Yes, I’ve been living here day in and day out for several months. Yes, I am here to serve the students of Tokyo because God placed in me a heart for Japan. Yes, that is my purpose, I tell myself. But my heart has been gradually drifting to a place where I don’t even know what I feel, where I can’t place the first motivations of my heart in coming to Japan for a year. I was scared, but thought if I continued to just live each day with a bit of effort, optimism, sprinkled with a bit of belief in the Lord that I would eventually come to love Japan again. But that didn’t really work…until today, when God stripped away all the physical resources for a moment and showed me an urgency, a dependency on Him that I had been missing. He renewed, refined my image of Tokyo. Those people I see on the train every day are not a group of unsaved people that I can just pass by and think, “Aw, too bad for you.” Those are unique individuals that God created in His image that all need to know that they are loved and can be saved, free.
As I sat there in my seat on the train rushing to Shinjuku by myself, I realized that I felt very vulnerable, very scared. I felt disconnected, that was the word that popped into my head. Disconnected from Tokyo, from the world. Just for a moment. And I thought.. that’s precisely what Jesus had to experience in order that we might be saved and enjoy a life of eternity with God. He experienced ultimate disconnection from the Father while mine was only for half an hour from my team and my physical comforts. I realized instantly – hey. It’s going to be okay. God is with me. I literally could have died (not to sound dramatic) in the train while I was passing from car 7 to car 6 to go to that BATHROOM (I will never go to that bathroom again). The train could have split while I was walking in between the cars and that would have been pretty insane.
God could take my life and I was okay with it – this sounds much more dramatic than what I mean to convey. I just meant that I felt peace. I knew I would see my team. I knew that God would bring me home safely. I knew it would be okay.
I got to Shinjuku, squeezing onto my ticket so hard that it got pretty wrinkled, and ran to track 5/6. It was a long way to the track, but I kept walk-running with hope (and a very full bladder). I was thinking in my head, “God, PLEASE let me meet my team. PLEASE. Please let them be here. Please let them not worry too much and be okay. I don’t even care about my suitcase stuff anymore.” I run onto track 5/6 and I don’t see anyone. I walk a little faster and YES I see the NEX train. Is it THIS NEX train? I see a familiar backpack and silhouettes. I run into my team’s arms and I cry a OMG happy-to-see-you tear (sorry, this sounds so theatrical). Oh man, was I happy to see them. Praise God, I keep saying in my head. That’s all I can think of. That’s all I want to say. Praise God. Praise God.
As usual, I’ve taken too much time and words to talk about myself and describe the scenes instead of focusing on the true hero of this story. God. Thank you. You were there with me the whole time. Even in that stupidly spacious bathroom. Even when I heard that the train split and that I had gone the wrong direction and had nothing on me, no money, phone, nothing. You are not disconnected from me. Even in that moment when I felt so alone and aware of my nothingness, you were there. You were in the elderly couple that gave me money, you were in the train conductor that helped me find a way to my awesome STINT team. You put compassion in those people’s hearts. You were right there, and I forgot. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that my heart is so forgetful and numb. I forget that I have a heart at all, sometimes. But God, You don’t forget me. I’m home now. I’m safe. And I have my suitcase and laptop and all the “necessities.” But all I need is You, and I thank You for opening my spiritual eyes to Tokyo and its people. My physical eyes and resources are useless in the end. I need You. God you are too good to me. I am so grateful to be loved by You.
Praise God. Praise Your name. All glory to You.
