Written by: Ronald Lim  (Photos by: Ronald Lim)

Why going to Japan alone was the best thing I did for myself. 

I’ve had a rather tumultuous and dull season since the start of 2014. Having been involved in countless projects and ministries whilst completing my final semester at university, life was a pretty rough ride. Everything seemed perfunctory, in spite of the many incredible activities I was involved in.

What kept me going, as odd as it seems, was being constantly engrossed and occupied with work. That, and surrounding myself with people. (It’s an extrovert thing, I suppose.) I knew I was surviving well, but I was not thriving as my personal growth was clearly approaching a desolate plateau — I had been running on empty, without Godly rest.

There was a quiet yearning within me for a sabbatical, but it had not fully crystallised in my mind. All this changed when the idea of travelling to a foreign city, all on my own, hit me for the first time like a chance discovery upon a quaint antique store. As I stepped in and immersed myself in that possibility, I quickly fell in love with it.

It wasn’t a surprise though that my (very Asian) parents were deeply concerned when I sought their approval to venture to Japan alone. It didn’t help that my relatives were hazed in horror when I broached the idea to them. Yet, I knew that this trip had to be done. I managed to allay my parents’ fears by justifying that it was a short trip. All I wanted was a week set-aside for God, and hopefully learning to be comfortable alone, and in His presence.

This was how I headed for my graduation trip to Tokyo, wide-eyed with wonder, solo.

A sabbath needs to be intentional.

And my oh my, did I have to fight for this sabbath to come to pass. I had to repeatedly coax my mum not to tag along; I also had to say no to friends who were interested to come along. Ironically, I had to invite God to be with me on this Japanese adventure. I’ve noticed how sabbaths are accidental occurrences for some people: “Oh, a free afternoon” or “I just so happen to be alone today”. I admit, I’ve done this many a times in the past myself, and I realise that it is not exactly fair to Him. Surely He deserves the best of my day, the best of my month, and the best of my year? I decided that I was going to be intentional to the T — I booked God two months in advance and drafted a brief itinerary.

A sabbath makes space for God.

By brief I meant that I had only planned for one site to visit: Mount Fuji. It was planned for the fifth day of the trip as the weather wizards have deemed it to be sunny. That’s all. One might call me a terribly poor and ‘last-minute’ planner but this was done on purpose so as to give God room during this trip. As my plan was so fluid, almost subject to my whim and fancy, I actually experienced many #yolo moments in Tokyo. Some holidays have been planned down to the minute, like a military battle plan, such that strife seeps in as the sites of interests become items on a list, merely waiting to be checked off.

There were days where I’d find a comfy spot, be it a café or some random bench, and warm the seat for long periods of time as I spent time with Him. I vividly remember walking back to the train station one cool night, and I was struck by the looming Tokyo Tower behind me. I paused at the bus stop, just soaking up the visceral moment, like ink on paper. Before I knew it, I was sketching the entire scene in my little notebook and even did a spontaneous quiet time with God. In these serendipitous moments, I never fail to find myself so snugly rested in His presence, in the warmth of His company.

He could speak anytime, anywhere.

God spoke to me in many fascinating ways: at times through incredulous questions about the meaning of seemingly mundane and ordinary things I came across, some in a gentle whisper, and others through people. Yes, people. I managed to meet so many great individuals within the span of seven days, and most of these encounters were simply divine.

There was a very specific spot on the outskirts of Tokyo near Shimoyoshida — which offered a panoramic view of Mount Fuji — and I had set out to find it. Unfortunately, I missed an earlier bus booking and had to take the later one. This eventually meant taking a bus ride with a stranger whom I managed to  converse with for two hours without a hint of awkwardness, and a surprise encounter with an old army friend in probably the most remote train station some half an hour later. The former showed me where exactly to alight, while the latter became my companion and guide up to that stunning spot. I’ll probably be lost and still trying to find that particular location if not for these two kind souls. In retrospect, God had answered my prayer for guidance to this really ulu site, which is especially amazing given that no Tokyoite seemed to have even heard of Shimoyoshida.

A sabbath is the opportune moment for our weary spirits to listen in on Him. It is the moment to remember that man shall not live on bread alone — hence the absence of manna — but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God (Matthew 4:4). He ever desires to speak to us and build us up and let us never forget what a joy it is to hear His voice.

This solitary trip alone has been the single best thing I have done for myself this year, and it is precisely because I went back to taking the sabbath — something designed for man, not to drag us down but to lift us up.

“Jesus said to them, “The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath.” (Mark 2:27 NASB)

Tokyo taught me many things my otherwise busy self wouldn’t have had the time and space for. In a mere seven days in this metropolis, I had learnt so much more about people, myself, and my identity in God than in the long and arduous months of not practising a weekly sabbath. I have now started to practise the sabbath again, but this time with delightful discipline.

“Therefore let us be diligent to enter that rest, so that no one will fall, through following the same example of disobedience.” (Hebrews 4:11 NASB)

Most importantly, this sabbath reminded me, more than ever, that even throughout my solo adventure, I have never been and will never be alone.

[author] [author_image timthumb=’on’]https://selah.sg/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/Ronald_bio.jpg[/author_image] [author_info] RONALD is an artist and beauty is his philosophy. This means that none of his Instagram images (@absolutvintage) is square and it makes him happy.[/author_info] [/author]