You are out in the country. Your son cuts his finger. It bleeds like crazy. If you live in America, you most likely know exactly what to do. What if you live in Japan? My first thought was to take him to a walk-in clinic. But they usually treat colds, viruses, etc. In all my years living here, I have yet to see any bleeding people enter the doors during my waiting hours. Go to a hospital? Well…I could, but some hospitals are specialized in rehabilitation or something and wouldn’t take care of our problem. What to do?

We decided to take our son to a clinic and see where they would redirect us. I accidentally passed the one I was aiming for (we haven’t lived in this town very long), so I continued on to visit our usual family doctor. On the way, I realized that they are closed on Wednesday afternoons. Okay. Plan B. A new hospital was built near that clinic, called Kikuyo Hospital. Sounds great. We walked in, and they told us, “Sorry. This is hospital treats cardiac patients.” Or that is what I understood them to say. (It is actually a psychiatric hospital!) However, they pointed me to another hospital just minutes from our home which was able to treat my son’s finger! Whew! (Nothing serious, by the way. No stitches). Afterward, Cameron stated, “I guess this means I won’t be getting that pocketknife that I wanted anytime soon.” Uh. No.

Words that popped up during this escapade that I didn’t know: tetanus shot, water-repellant bandage, and cardiac (er…mental).

Today the kids and I visited a fall festival in our town. There was warbling Asian music that one of our children said sounded like “old ladies singing.” There was a giant drum with a man practically doing the splits in front of pounding away with loud shouts from time to time. There were even hula dancers. (Oh, boy!)

What could be more interesting than that? Well, perhaps a white mom and three white kids with blonde hair! We felt like we stuck out like a sore thumb, but we got to meet some new people. Three young boys (ages 5, 7, and 8) kept coming up to us, asking questions like “Where do you come from?” and “How long did it take for your plane to get here?” and “Why did you come to Japan?” I was happy to share my answers, including the fact that God loves Japanese people, and we are here to share that.

Just before we were leaving, an older couple approached us and asked similar questions, soon switching to English. The wife is from the Philippines and didn’t speak Japanese. Who know what God might do with these meetings of “chance.”

We got home, and the neighbor boy came over to play. Cameron and Chloe were tired, but Melodie can’t seem to get enough play time with others. Up till now, she has refused to play without her siblings outside, too, but today, for the first time, she played by herself with the Japanese neighbor boys! I peeked out the window and saw her smiling big and enjoying herself (even though she can’t speak Japanese yet). Cameron saw her, too, and decided to join the fun.

Thanks for all of you who faithfully pray for our family. We are still getting settled back in here, to this place God has called us. We want to be faithful servants of God, and we want our children to love it here, too.