November 2023
About 12 months ago I stood at the glass door in the room that would eventually become our bedroom, and looked out over the yard to Okasan who was throwing items on the fire. I stood there to take a little moment’s break from the extensive de-cluttering we’d been doing and it wasn’t long before Shujin stood beside me and slipped his hand around my waist.
We watched his mum for a little bit before he broke the silence and thanked me. Thanked me for being such an amazing wife. To give up my home, my family, my country, to move to “this” (indicating the miserable state of the house-built-for-two that we were squeezing six people into, indicating the unemployment factor and indicating the burden of his family, particularly his mum with dementia, that was now resting on our shoulders.)
“I’m so blessed. I’ve been telling my brothers how lucky I am to have such a good wife.”
His voice was serious and certain. Mine was crackly and wet with tears as I managed to get out “thanks.”
But it’s not me.
Not I, but Christ who lives in me.
Fast forward nine months to the summer holidays. Yumi, my sister in-law, and I sat in the car, lingering back after the kids had piled out, having returned back home from one of our many summer holiday adventures. We had started a conversation and it was turning into a deep and meaningful. The conversation meandered along and soon we were talking about Okasan and her dementia.
“Were you happy to give up your home, family and country and move to Japan? How are you coping? I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be a carer and live here with Okasan. I really respect you.”
‘I really respect you’ are words that are often spoken to me when I share with my Japanese friends about my experiences over the last 12 months. It’s not me though.
Not I, but Christ who lives in me.
When still living in Australia and realising that there was a very real possibility of us needing to move to Japan one day, I told Shujin, that I could NOT be the carer for his parents. I had many skills and abilities, but caring for the elderly and disabled was not one of them. I knew it was a special gift, and I really admired people who had this gift. It was not a gift I had been given though, and so I studied TESOL so I could be an English teacher in Japan and be the bread-winner so Shujin could be the carer, if ever we did move there.
Despite my planning and preparations, things didn’t work out the way I had envisioned. I was on a tourist visa when arriving in Japan. I didn’t have the right to work. God put Shujin into a job, making me the carer.
When hearing of other people’s extreme stories or challenging situations, it’s very easy to say, “I could never do that.” We know our abilities and limits, and they don’t match up. Inside we think to ourselves, “I’m so grateful that isn’t me!”
And the truth is, I can’t do it!
Not I, but Christ who lives in me.
I cannot boast about my own abilities. It honestly feels like Christ has given me a special gift in order to care for Okasan. Her repeated questions don’t bug me. Her repeated stories can just be acknowledged and responded to. Her mixed up stories with incorrect and totally unbelievable content gives us a good laugh. Her forgetfulness with where items have been placed just needs a little patience and extra time (start heading out the door 10-15min earlier than needed, cause you’ll need it!) And her forgetfulness to include laundry detergent when she puts the washing on can be frustrating, but after reloading the machine and adding detergent, I get over it.
And yet, I sit with a friend who also has dementia, and she drive me nuts! Her repeated stories, her repeated questions, and her need for constant attention in a conversation that switches topics with no fullstops in between is too much for me and I can be found trying to escape every time!
Yet when it comes to Okasan, there’s next to no issues for me. And once again I say,
Not I, but Christ who lives in me.
As I ponder this truly miraculous and spiritual gift Christ has given to me, I am deeply humbled. I am so humbled by Christ’s care and mercy because,
More times than not, my Bible remains unopened.
I cannot boast about my prayer habits.
My heart is filled with annoyance and displeasure with life’s upheavals more than it is filled with praise to Jesus Christ.
I do not deserve such gifts from Him!
My trust and faith has always remained firmly in God, but if one had the ability to really see my true relationship with Jesus, they would be wondering where my love is. I didn’t want it to be like this. I long for the days when I enjoyed a close relationship with Jesus, when there was a fire in my heart.
It was no intentional turning away or pulling back. I simply became like the seed that fell among the thorns in the story of the Farmer who was sowing his seeds.1 As the farmer tossed his seed to scatter it, it fell on the good soil, yes. The seeds readily took root and grew. But some seeds also fell among the thorns.
I am like the seed that fell among the thorns and got consumed by the worries of this world.
And yet, Christ loves me still. Even though I have been unfaithful, Christ is faithful still. Christ has been abundantly gracious, keeping me SANE as I care for my mother in-law who has dementia, whilst I live in a foreign country where I STILL can’t speak the language AND have to eat rice several times a day (God help me!!!!).
Even though my personal relationship with Christ has gone a little cold, He loves me still. So faithful, gracious and merciful, giving me the patience and ability to cope each day.
It is Christ in me. Christ’s power in my life—even when I am not giving Him the love He deserves!—that is why I am able.
Very intense, Debbie, but I understand; our inabilities are more familiar to us than Christ's power to do His work in us.
Thank you Debbie for being so honest - I know this feeling. God truly is so kind and good to us. xx