Ten Yori Shu wo Homeage yo.

I moved to Japan at a sensitive time, spiritually. I grew up in the Lutheran church and am a follower of Christ. But I find myself often still shifting to 'figure it out.' When I moved to Japan, I had spent the previous year and a half attending an Orthodox church, of all places. But that's another story.

Yokohama Orthodox Church, our current parish

Orthodoxy is crazy different than the Protestant world. It took much adjustment, and I remember even experiencing something similar to culture shock. The Orthodox church I first attended regularly had inquirer's classes - a time when our priest was available to field questions and discuss orthodoxy. This was helpful to understand the differences, but there were still times of emotional adjustments - those times I would feel in over my head. I remember leaving in the middle of one of the Lenten services because it was just too much, too overwhelming. A friend of mine noticed and checked in later. He understood that I was freaked out. He said this was good, and it meant I was paying attention.

I was at a good place with Orthodoxy when we got married. That's a good thing, since we were married in an Orthodox cathedral. By three Orthodox priests. With less than a handful of Orthodox in attendance out of the 225 friends and family that were there. And I was then married to an Orthodox man. I was engulfed.

I say I was in a good place, but I still felt very new. We both (my recently converted husband and I) still had a lot to understand. I thought moving to Japan to fulfill military orders would mean a hiatus in our progress. That we wouldn't have the chance to continue pursuing Orthodoxy. I thought we would have to pick up where we left off when we moved back to the States.

Fortunately, I was wrong.

Who knew that we would be so welcomed at a tiny little Japanese Orthodox church? Who knew that we would be able to attend liturgy every week and still have the opportunity to learn about Orthodoxy? Who knew that I would be chrismated and convert at this church? And who knew our son would be baptized there as well?

This church has become a family indeed and we are once again engulfed in Orthodoxy.

We currently know the liturgy in Japanese better than in English (koei wa chichi to ko to seishin ni kisu, ima mo itsumo yoyo ni, Amin ... ).

We have lunch with this wonderful group of people after liturgy every week. Matushka (the priest's wife) hurries to finish her meal and grabs Steven so I can have a rare two-handed meal. He's been spoken to in English, Japanese, Arabic, and Russian (only a few of the nationalities represented).

This week, Miki San put on and tied my shoes for me since I was flying solo and already had Steven in a carrier on my abdomen, making it tricky to bend.

When I wasn't able to attend after Steven's birth, they sent Curt home with blessed bread for me. They also did this after I had my wisdom teeth taken out.

I am regularly invited to lunch out with the ladies I call my obachans, my pseudo-aunties from this church.

We are supported and blessed and we are in it. We are living Orthodoxy in a way that has little regard for language barriers and differences of background.

God blew this whole thing out of the water by allowing us to remain in the Orthodox Church AND grow in it, despite being in a land foreign to us. We have truly been provided for, and this community will honestly be difficult to leave. We've already talked about how much we dread it. This church, that is no bigger than our house, has brought to Orthodoxy two out of the three of us, leaves us walking on air every week and has truly been a treasure.

Silly me for thinking that the limits that I see actually mean something.

Sunny Side Up.

http://commons.wikimedia.org/

Out here in Yokosuka, our ships are forward deployed. This means that, contrary to stateside ships that might deploy for 9 or 10 months, our schedules are more sporadic. They go out for a month here, two months there, then six weeks, two weeks, or even 8 months. A schedule exists, but is very much subject to change. And often does change. Multiple times. It's hard to argue what's more difficult, so I won't get into that. ;)

My husband just left on our longest deployment of the year. It came up quick - he was only in port for three weeks. But I am determined to be looking at the shiny side of the coin, despite the inner protests of my cranky-navy-wife side (be easy on her, she had a tough week of long hours and dinners alone). So I think it's time to take a look at the up sides of having a deployed husband. I know, I know! Why would I even scrape the barrel to find such heinous ideas?? Because there are indeed some benefits to a deployment. They're what help us get through, despite our longing (and counting down) for homecoming day.

Just bear with me. I need this today.

So without further adieu, here are the positive aspects of deployment.

1. Deployments provide the perfect time to set goals.

Your life suddenly shifts. There's a clear break that includes an adjustment phase after which your life is pretty different. You suddenly live alone, have way more time on your hands, and if you have kids, will act somewhat like a single parent. There's a clear break in what your life looks like because one day BOOM! Your husband is gone. It's a great time to set some goals, hunker down, and work for them. Homecoming also provides a clear deadline.

I realized early on that I needed deployment goals, whether he'd be gone for 1 week or 3 months. It's good for me to have something extra to focus on. In the past, I've learned to make crepes, contacted 'X' number of people in the African ecotourism industry to plan our future, planned trips around Asia and Australia, read books I'd been intending to read for years, and cleaned our window screens. It's wonderful, because goals can be of any kind.

My goals this time around are: (1) learn to knit (will be starting that one tonight!), (2) research lodge management in East Africa, (3) look into a trip for the end of this tour, and (4) organize our photos.

2. It forces you to pursue community like your life depends on it.

Because at times, your emotional well being does depend on it. We have wayward connection to our husbands. Between technical difficulty on the ship's end, his watch schedule and him not knowing what's going on or really what day it is, you're never guaranteed to actually be able to contact your husband. You need to learn, to some extent, not to rely on him. And often, it's pursuing connection with other people that actually gets you out your door, for bible study, women's brunch, and so-and-so's Pampered Chef party.

We all realize we need other women to rely on, so we cohere quickly. And honestly, it becomes your second family. Even in times when our husbands are around, we find ourselves needing each other. For support when dealing with the sometimes-frustrating process of getting orders. For making meals and getting help around the house after our babies are born. For figuring out how to change our Page 2's or get command sponsorship or read an LES (trust me - don't ask!). For reading the kanji on your heater remote, so you don't have the A/C on in the middle of winter.

I saw this in action during the last deployment. My husband was gone for a month and we had some snowy weather move in. Even though we're from Minnesota, there are some places that just aren't prepared for that much snow. It was a Saturday night and our house kept losing power. No power = no heat. I was starting to get nervous after the sun went down and I had an infant to keep warm. I also feared that even if the power came back on, we would lose it again in the middle of the night. Our heaters have to be turned back on manually, so if I didn't notice the power loss, things could get cold fast. I called a friend of mine whose husband offered to brave the weather to come get me and my three-month-old so we could bunk at their place. Luckily, our power came back on after an hour and we stayed warm through the night, but having their support (and the opportunity for a plan B) made me feel safe again.

You learn that community is essential for surviving the Navy.

3. For the most part, the challenges are worthwhile.

Now, I would also argue that a married couple shouldn't be apart. But that's perfect world stuff. When having to brave a deployment, it turns out you learn a lot and become more self-sufficient. You don't have your husband to do everything. You have to kill all the spiders, do the yard work, figure out how to buy the right Japanese light bulb (doesn't it seem like there are thousands??), and take the cat to the vet. You just have to figure it out, and I don't know if many other Navy wives are like this, but I always have an I-am-woman-hear-me-roar moment at the end of a challenge. And you know, it feels pretty good. I also know for the future which light bulbs we need and how to effectively (and single-handedly) get our 15 lb cat into his kennel. Not easy. But remember that I am woman. Rarh!

But I would also like to officially state that Curtis Gaynor is the official spider killer (or benevolent outdoor-releaser, because I do not care what he does with them as long as they are gone) in this household.

4. You appreciate your husband a helluva lot.

When your husband comes home, it is an absolute JOY to have dinner with him and hold his hand and have a face-to-face conversation and watch him play with your kid. You know, normal everyday stuff. We become wonderfully low maintenance, and that's just nice for everybody.

5. The homecoming is romantic. Movie-style romantic.

You know the climax of a good romantic comedy? That part in the movie when you are completely captivated and would be sincerely heartbroken if everything didn't turn out? When your heart is beating fast and you can hardly breathe? That's what it feels like to see your husband pull in after months at sea. It's a momentous day.

Our last homecoming was delayed, and day to day, I had no idea when my husband would be able to come home. I found out a week after the originally scheduled return that the ship would be arriving the very next day. Since we had a napping infant, we decided that he would just come home when he could instead of us coming to meet him on the pier. Well, our son woke up last minute and we rushed out the door to surprise him (texting him all the way for updates on when he'd be coming home; tricky, tricky!). Holding our son and walking onto that ship to find my husband was a wonderful moment. Made me feel like a giddy teenager. 

6. Our men bring home stories.

I'll admit, some deployments are boring (oh great, you did this exercise and that evolution ... ), and some sailors and their wives aren't interested in talking Navy once he's finally home. But if your husband's command does any big time Navy stuff, it makes for great stories. We're talking about the big stories in internationally news and things connected to the world climate. My husband has become so good at telling me stories (at least the ones I'm allowed to hear, heh heh) like it's a great novel playing out. And honestly, it makes me a little proud knowing what significant things my husband was involved with. 

7. And if they're gone for long enough ... separation pay!

We get paid more if we're separated from our husbands longer than a certain amount. It's like, "Sorry you never see your husband, but here's some money." But hey, I will not say no to that. :)

Navy wives? Did I leave anything out? How do you stay positive when your man is gone?