Sue Takamoto



blog posts from Eric & Sue Takamoto

March 10th. She sat across from me at the table.

“Tomorrow I have to go with my family to the temple. We still don’t have a gravesite for my mom and dad, so we just go to the temple instead.”

C.’s parents had both been killed in the tsunami. She hasn’t talked about it much. I asked why they don’t have a gravesite yet. One of the other women sitting nearby made the money sign with her hands. It costs too much.

I asked C. if it feels hard to be the fourth anniversary. She said, “It’s easier than it was last year. I’ve sort of gotten used to them not being here, and so I just sort of talk to them. When I leave in the morning to come here, I go over to their picture and tell them I’m leaving. When I return home, I tell them I’m back. I like knowing that they are somehow still with me.”


During lunch today, some of us were at our gathering place. We had about six or eight local friends come by. One of our dear friends, Mrs. K., told me again different parts of her tsunami story. Telling the story is still important, even four years later. It was snowing and cold that day four years ago, a lot like today. I am so amazed that she survived, because she had run from her home to her son and family’s home – found the door locked, and had run home and then up the mountain just as the waters started crashing in. Her son’s home was virtually destroyed. I’m so glad the door had been locked so she didn’t stay there. I can’t imagine life without Mrs. K.


Mr. A held him close. He made a funny face. Everyone laughed. There is so much healing that comes from babies.



Eric was at the store today buying gifts for some local friends. He didn’t have much time. But there were a lot of people he wanted to see. So he prayed,

“God, who is hurting the most now? Who do you want me to visit?”

Immediately he thought of the dad of our friend Y. He had lost his wife and oldest pregnant daughter in the tsunami.

He drove over there with sushi and grapes. The two previous times that he has visited, he handed the food gifts, talked briefly in the genkan (entrance to the house) and left. This time, though, Y’s dad invited Eric in. Eric sat with him for about two hours, listening to many stories about his deceased wife, and looking at photos. Things have not always been smooth with Y and her dad. Eric suggested that sometime soon he sit with his daughter and together they look at one of these albums.

Tonight I got a text from Y. about how happy her dad was for the visit. Y. was thrilled. Her dad never shares with anyone. This was a special gift to both her dad and to Eric.


Tonight before our final gathering time, E. sat across from me and a friend and said,

“Things are a lot harder now than they were four years ago. The tsunami was terrible, but I’m able to see good in it because God let me meet you and the others who have moved here. So I’m finally able to see some good. ”


Child 1: “Mommy, why do you think God made the tsunami?”

Child 2: “God didn’t make the tsunami! Did He, mom?”

Wow. I can’t answer those questions (and that’s what I told our kids). But I am completely convinced that God wants to work through and in spite of the terrible destruction; that God wants to walk with people through their pain and the challenges that have come over the last four years, and I see it happening.


She said she wanted our prayers. She didn’t have a specific area needing prayer tonight, so I suggested that we just listen and hear what God might want to share with her. My friend V. read Psalm 23 in Japanese to her. And as she was reading, I pictured Jesus the Shepherd scooping up E. and holding her close to his heart. I told E about this image, and that God wanted her to just lay down all of our responsibilities and heavy burdens and just experience his love and care for her. God was inviting her to come. Just come. After this prayer time, E. couldn’t believe how light she felt. It was so so good to see her letting go of some of the heaviness that she had come with.



We had a wonderful final gathering, with 40 or 50 adults gathered together to remember, to walk together. It was such a bonding time. At the end we gathered in small groups and some shared, some prayed, some listened. We stood in a big circle and held hands as a symbol of our desire to walk together towards Jesus, whatever the future may bring. No one can do it alone.



I was thinking today about our work at the Nozomi Project. There are five or so staff who have left for various reasons – some on good terms with other staff, and some not. But I thought about it tonight and realized that all five of them are still connecting with our Be One team, and coming to us to help them in their various stages of life currently. They are coming to those with Hope for continuing healing. I am so thankful for that.


After I got home and was trying to get all our kids into showers and then pajamas, I got a call from N. I haven’t seen her in quite a while. Her three year old son had been killed in the tsunami. Today she and her family went to the area right near our home where he had died. She said she had wanted to come by our gathering place, but it just felt too hard. She said, “I could laugh yesterday, and I am sure that I will laugh again tomorrow, but I couldn’t laugh today.” When I prayed for her over the phone, I prayed for her mother’s heart. A mother can love so wide, and so deep; but when that child is gone it means the pain is so wide, and so deep.


I don’t have all the answers, but in the beginning and in the end, I believe in a God who hears, and a God who heals, and in a God who walks with us along the way.

Sue Takamoto

Originally posted on The Takameter...

Follow this Site

Get new posts by email: