I was about to give up the race when a parked car cheered me on.
I returned from the summer missions trip– my fourth trip to Japan– with the confidence that we would raise the funds needed to embark on our two-year assignment. We needed 80% of our two-year budget pledged before we could go.
God called us to go, God confirmed the calling multiple times. Surely God would provide, no?
He does, but His timing doesn’t always match our hopes.
I gave a report on my trip from the stage during a Sunday service, sharing stories of the incredible ways God called us to Japan and led us during my four trips there. Scores of people came up to me afterwards, signing up for our prayer letter/email. In addition, I had sent out support letters to dozens of churches and organizations that had invited me to do so. I thought we’d raise funds in no time.
Only one church replied to our support letter (and would become our sole supporting church). The summer came and went– our pledges were still hovering at around 30%, and this included the $50k gift that came in seven months earlier. We still needed an additional 50% pledged before we could even apply for our visas to Japan.
I had to hustle. I tried posting more on social media, but that didn’t seem to yield results– if anything, I was turned off by them, but thought it was a necessary step. I also started to mine my contacts and set out to send out more support letters.
Having quit my job nearly 10 months earlier, I had no office to work out of, so I’d haul my laptop and work at coffee shops and eateries that offered free Wi-Fi. One day, I was working out of a burger joint located in a suburban shopping center, and as I tweaked our budget, trying to cut costs, I was daunted by the numbers we still needed to hit. I grew increasingly anxious about the entire process.
I checked my watch. Still had a half-hour before I needed to pick up my son from school. I was planning to use that time to write more support letters when I got a sudden nudge to get up and leave at that very moment.
“But I still need to work on this letter,” I thought to myself.
That nudge wouldn’t stop. It only got stronger.
I packed my laptop and headed for my car, thinking, “How are we going to raise this much money within the next month or two? Are we going to be able to move to Japan by the end of the year?”
Before I even completed that thought, a car pulled up into the space in front of me, and the license plate started blaring at me:
Ganbare– a word I had seen over and over again in Northeastern Japan, as people encouraged one another to persevere and rebuild in the aftermath of the 3.11 disaster. Ganbare translates loosely to “Go get ’em!” “Keep fighting!” “Do your best!” or “Don’t give up!”
It might not be that unusual to find a Japanese word on a license plate if I had been at a Japanese shopping center, but 1) this was in the parking lot of a mainstream supermarket; 2) the driver was Caucasian, not Asian; 3) the car was an American, not Japanese, make; and 4) the plate happened to be from Ohio, my home state. Plus, if I hadn’t felt prompted to get up and leave at that moment, I might have missed this completely.
Coincidence? That’s always a possibility, but to me, the timing was perfect: I saw the word ganbare just when I was in need of some encouragement regarding our calling to Japan.
I resolved to ganbare and not give up. Over the next three months, more people pledged their support. Our numbers crept up to over 50%… and hovered there.
Meanwhile, two other families from our church had been sent off on their missions– one to Europe and the other to Tokyo. I had announced my family’s plans to go overseas months before either of them did, and here we were, left in the dust.
This was humbling to the point of humiliation: I’d be at church on a Sunday and someone would come up to me, beaming with open arms, exclaiming, “You’re back!”
“We haven’t left yet,” I’d mumble sheepishly.
“But I thought you left a year ago.”
“I did…”
It had been thirteen months since I resigned, and we were still around. A well-connected friend of ours offered to host a fundraiser. Would this be our salvation?
Dumb question.
God was using this process to remind me that He alone is our salvation. By keeping us “stranded” in California, He taught me that even though a vision or assignment might be from God, that vision can become an idol if I pursue the fulfillment of it more than I seek God Himself. I was so bent on going to Japan that I was stressing out that we couldn’t leave right away: this process showed me that my motivation was less about doing what God called me to do and more about being right.
Deep inside, I was afraid that I would be proved wrong in my discernment of the calling to Japan.
The fundraiser never happened, as if God took my last (false) hope and snapped it into pieces. What should our strategy be now?
Soo and our youngest went out for breakfast one Saturday morning as we waited for our oldest son to finish a class he was in. I prayed silently: “God, I don’t know what to do anymore. Should I work harder– send out more prayer letters, post more on social media– or should I just surrender it all to you and pray more?”
I didn’t hear an answer.
At least, not right away.
It was time to pick up our oldest son. As we began to drive out of the parking lot, I was waiting to make a right turn out of our aisle when I saw an oncoming vehicle in the lane I was attempting to enter. Should I make the turn and cut off the car or wait for it to pass?
It was a good distance away, so I could have made the turn without disturbing the other driver, but I decided to wait.
The car crept towards us so slowly that I regretted not making the turn. The driver was (stereotypically) an older woman, beaming with an oblivious grin as she took a leisurely drive on a weekend morning.
I was chomping at the bit, raring for this lady to pass by so I could make the turn behind her, regretting that I hadn’t just cut her off.
The car finally floated past us. As I made the turn and pulled up behind it, Soo and I both saw the license plate frame.
It read, “JUST PRAY.”
Was God answering the prayer I’d lifted five minutes earlier, over breakfast? I took it as such, so I said to God, “OK, God, I’m not going to do anything but pray. No more support letters, no more posts on social media. I’m going to trust in You alone. If you want us to go to Japan, You’ll have to provide what we need to get there.”
The Lord answered Moses, “Is the Lord’s arm too short? Now you will see whether or not what I say will come true for you.” (Numbers 11:23 NIV)
Three weeks later…
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