Lost for words?

Returning to Japan after more than 30 years’ absence, I literally found myself lost for words. It has created awkward moments and funny ones too. But I will treasure this time as perhaps the best learning experience I have ever had as a leader.

I was born in Kobe, and, having moved around in various locations in my early childhood, I spoke Japanese with a distinct Izumo dialect. My parents worried if I would ever know Norwegian at all. Well, seven years in Norway between the age of 7 and 14 took care of that, but unfortunately it also erased my Japanese. When I returned to Japan with my family in 1983 at the age of 14, the only word I knew was hikōki (airplane). Over the course of the next five years, my Japanese never really resurfaced properly.

After theological studies in Norway, my wife and I had the joy of serving in mission work in Kenya and Tanzania for ten years. Over that time, our Swahili skills went from a toddler’s level to a decent grasp of the language.

Fast forward to 2019. We had returned to Norway several years earlier, and I was working in the domestic ministries of the Norwegian Lutheran Mission (NLM). When NLM found itself in a squeeze for someone to take the task of resident representative in Japan, I was asked if I could step in and help out while the organization was looking for a more long-term solution.

I was rather hesitant. The prospects of once again living in Japan were extremely tempting. But I knew it would be a difficult task in many ways. Being a leader involves trust. Would the other missionaries accept me as a leader? Would the church body we cooperate with acknowledge me? My last name brings positive connotations in some circles because of my parents’ long service in Japan, but for how long could I ride that wave? And, more than anything, what about the language? Retracing language skills that lie decades in the past is not easy, especially when another foreign language has also invaded that section of the brain.

However, after prayerful consideration, we eventually accepted the challenge and arrived in Kobe in August 2019. I came here trembling, with a hypothesis that Japanese and Swahili have very little common ground. My hypothesis has been proven right. I don’t know how many times I have responded in Swahili when I thought I was using Japanese words. They make for good laughs, though!

It only took a few days after arrival before I found myself in a meeting where the agenda involved sensitive topics. At first, I was a bit encouraged, because I thought I could pick out a key word here and there. I thought I had a fair idea of what was being said. And I did have translation help to grasp the essence of what was said. But when the meeting was drawing to a close and I was asked to give NLM’s views on the matters discussed, it became clear that I had not seen the whole picture. We ended up with some misunderstandings that have taken both time and effort to clear up and recover from.

I must admit that my spirit was not very high after those initial weeks. I had met my shortcomings in a very profound way. Over the years, I have been given leadership tasks on various levels, and I have grown accustomed to taking responsibility and executing the necessary processes. Here in Japan I found myself stuttering and sweating, feeling as helpless as I ever have. I came here to help give direction to the work we do, and instead my contributions brought confusion and misunderstandings. Words have always been my most important tool for leading, and now I was lost for words. On more than one occasion, I have asked my wife, “What have we done, coming here?”

But out of this colossal challenge came a valuable learning experience. I have had to humble myself and recognize my shortcomings. I have had to tell myself and those around me that my ability takes me so far, but no further. I need help.

Those three words are so liberating! I need help.

I don’t know about you, but for me, it can be difficult to acknowledge my need for help. I admit I put a lot of pressure on myself to succeed without bothering others. Independence scores higher than dependence for most of us. The first one is a show of strength. The other one is failure. But knowing the cards I’ve been handed, trying to work things out by myself would be a foolish strategy.

In my case, help was close at hand. I have been blessed with some very competent colleagues who have stepped up and given time and effort to assist me. One of them, a native Japanese speaker, has helped me write letters in impeccable Japanese. Others have allowed me to lean on them for interpretation in meetings. I have stopped trusting the bits I picked up during the conversation, and instead I allow myself the luxury of depending on their words. All I really had to do was ask for help!

In our efficient-minded times we are used to responding quickly to all questions. Email lands in our inboxes, and immediately the pressure is on to answer. There is a message on our smartphones, and we know the sender is watching his own phone at that very moment, waiting for our response. I’ve had to distance myself from such expectations and force myself to spend time responding. If the question needs a longer answer, I will write it in English and have my Japanese colleague translate it into Japanese. She has to do that on top of many other chores, so the response is sometimes delayed by a whole day or even longer. But that gives me the confidence to be precise and know that the message will be clear from the very start. It is also my impression that waiting for a concise answer is better than getting a quick, confusing answer.

I do the same with oral reports. I have started to write them out and send them to the participants as a Japanese translation. By doing so, we become more efficient in the meeting, as the facts are on the table ahead of time. And I know that my report is succinct.

Certainly, this has made it easier for me to make my mark as a leader. When people read my letters, they “hear” me speak. It takes a bit longer, yes, but perhaps a little waiting time is not so bad after all? I believe it has helped the leadership of the church to be more relaxed in their communication with me as well. They can send me their information in Japanese, knowing that we have organized a safety net that ensures I understand.

What has been the most rewarding aspect of this learning experience is to see how Peter’s words in 1 Peter 4:10 are brought to life: “Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms” (NIV). We bring different gifts and talents to the table, and as one body we serve our Savior. It is important that limbs are reminded that it is only together that they constitute a body. The limbs have different functions and strengths, but the body has a wonderful ability to compensate for shortcomings somewhere with strengths from elsewhere. We visualize how the body of Christ is best expressed in the service we do for each other.

I have been able to share the decision-making process with competent coworkers. As a leader, I have had a taste of the blessing of dependency. And with me taking a step back, others have had an opportunity to take a step forward. Their gifts become visible and are appreciated. My mandate is to give direction and ensure good cooperation with the Japanese church. Had it not been for my gifted colleagues, I would have been a disaster at doing that. I can’t thank them enough for what they do! I have found that depending on others is not a weakness but an empowering strength.