He loves this city

I thought you'd enjoy pics of Sarah Beth's part of the kids' room. It is covered in the normal stuff all teenage girls love: The Beatles and Russian Football posters. The star on the left is the name of her favorite player--Andrei Arshavin.
More Arshavin posters. The words in the heart--nash chelovyek (roughly)--mean "our man."
More Russian Football. The recent Euro Championships, in which Russia made it to the semifinals, had the whole family (along with the rest of Moscow) enthralled.

"Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving and pay your vows to the Most High; call upon Me in the day of trouble; I shall rescue you, and you will honor Me." Psalm 50: 14-15

I can hear that thunder in the distance
Like a train on the edge of town
I can feel the brooding of Your Spirit
"Lay your burdens down, Lay your burdens down."
--"As Sure as Gold (Revival)" Robin Mark

One of my favorite memories of my time as a praise team member at my church is when we took a Sunday night and did the entire songbook of Revival in Belfast by Robin Mark. There are many great songs you know in this collection, but my favorite (at least now) is the song I quote above. It is not as well-known as the other songs in the collection, but it is literally about God's love for a city. I listened to it yesterday as I was walking home from the grocery store. I had just finished listening to my pastor's sermon from Sunday, and I just clicked on this song to get me home. I love it because it is so much about the sights and sounds of a city. I don't think I could totally appreciate that in Middleburg, Florida, which is a fairly small place with not much noise. But a city of 15 million is constant noise. I can't imagine how I'm going to sleep if they ever finish the construction outside our building and I'm not constantly listening to the sound of cranes and drills and hammers.

I also love this song because it is a reminder to me that God loves this mega-city that I call home. (Mega-city is the IMB's designation for a city of this size.) He loves these streets. He loves the high-rise apartment buildings. He loves the drunks leaning on trees to try and stand straight. He loves the little kids playing in the parks. He loves every inch of this city, and He longs to see every person here come to know Him and His love and His forgiveness. It can be overwhelming to live in a place this big. How do you tackle a city of 15 million? The block on which I live has as many people as the town I came from in Florida. I can't even comprehend that. The answer is, of course, that you don't tackle a whole city. You chop it into pieces, you figure out ways to approach groups, and you go from there and pray that God can use you in some way. The answer is that you have an English club and a Bible study that meets in your home, and you work on loving those people to Christ. The answer is that you lay your burden for the city on Him, and sit back and watch the amazing things our giant God can do with lives that are just submissive to Him.

I've said it a thousand times--I have no clue why God chose my family to come here. Not a clue. There are far better (in my opinion) families to do the work we are doing here. But the truth is that He called us. The secret to success here is not in what we do with that call, but in how obedient we are to it. I have no idea what God is going to do with the people who show up every Thursday night for English Club. But I know that God honors our faithfulness in having them in our home. And I can't help but think that in our little, tiny part of this huge city, God is up to something. I don't know what, but I am waiting with anticipation for what He's about to do, and I'm so grateful that I get to be here to witness it.

It is a rainy, stormy day here in Moscow. Normally, that would not be a good thing, but it has been in the 90s every day this week, and we have no air conditioning, so we are grateful for a little cool air. It may cancel the picnic we had planned for tonight with some friends, but pizza and a movie at our house sound good, too. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are waiting with anticipation for how God shows Himself in the place you are called to, and that you are enjoying a break in the heat! Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

I'm looking over some stones this morning

"Can a woman forget her nursing child and have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, but I will not forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; your walls are continually before Me." Isaiah 49:15-16

This is what it means
To be held
How it feels
When the sacred
Is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is
To be loved
And to know
That the promise was
When everything failed
We'd be held.
--"Held" Natalie Grant

It is a rare occasion when words fail me. I love words, consider them one of God's great gifts to me, am frustrated when I can't recall the English word for something I normally say in Russian or can't recall the Russian word for something I usually say in English. Rarely do I come upon a situation in which I can't find the words to express how I feel. This morning is one of those occasions.

Early this morning, the vonage phone rang. I think it's universal that when the phone rings in the night, it's not good news. Marc ran to get it, whispering, "It's Tara, and something is really wrong," as he handed it to me. If you are a regular reader of this blog, you'll remember that Tara is my closest friend, soulmate, and partner in crime. Tara and her husband, Matt, live with their two children in Brazil. My first thought was that something was wrong with the baby Tara is expecting in January. But through her tears, she assured me that her family was well, but that tragedy had struck. Elaine, her mentor since she arrived in Brazil, had gotten sick while on vacation. She went to the doctor on Friday, was diagnosed with pneumonia, went home, went back to the doctor on Monday, was hospitalized with a massive bacterial infection, placed in ICU, and not expected to live through the night. One by one, her organs were failing. Indeed, about twenty minutes after we hung up, Tara called back to relay the news that Elaine had died. Of course, I longed for nothing more than just to be in Brazil, sitting on Tara's bed, holding her hand. And of course, I am not. Instead, I did my best to comfort my precious friend from thousands of miles and seven time zones away. But what is there to say, really, when nothing makes sense? When God's plan seems so unreasonable, how do we run to Him? Elaine has five children. Her youngest is nine years old. Why is this the plan? What do you do with a God who is so big that He is incomprehensible?

The only answer I can come up with--and remember that education is my particular area of expertise, not theology--is that it is precisely for times like these that we look back on our stones of remembrance, when we recall, one by one, the ways in which God has been ever-faithful as He has led us to this place. On Sunday, one of the things I said in Bible study was that I do not think God has helped me--I know He has. I look again and again at those times in my life where I not only survived in difficult circumstances but flourished, and I know that He has held me in His right hand, where my name is engraved, and brought me through. We have given up everything to come to this place and serve Him, not out of some hope of great reward, but simply because in the face of all He has done for us, simple obedience seems the least we can do for Him. I don't know why God called us to a difficult life. I don't know why He gave me Tara but called us to two totally separated parts of the world. I don't know why He called Elaine home when it seems so unreasonable. But I can rest--and find comfort--in this: He knows. He knows, and He is faithful, and He loves me far more than I am even capable of comprehending. I would love to be able to say that faithful service to God leads to a life of luxury and ease. So far, that has not been my experience. But I will proclaim this to my dying day: He is faithful, He is trustworthy, and He is worthy of any sacrifice I make. And somehow, even through tragedy and heartache, He will be glorified.

It is a busy day here in Moscow. We believe we will be leaving for Ukraine tomorrow night, so there is much, much, much to be done. We also have to swap some kids around at some point today--Hannah slept over with a friend, and their son slept over here with John-John. (By the way--good friends for my kids--doesn't that giant of loneliness look smaller and smaller and smaller? That guy just might be on his way out the door.) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are trusting in a mighty, mighty God no matter what circumstance you find yourself in today. And if, by chance, you are so blessed that God has given you a best friend, someone who knows you inside and out and loves you anyway, someone who prays for you daily, who tells you when you're being difficult, who makes you laugh until you cry...and if you can look that person in the face today...oh, my friends, spend some time laughing and hugging that person, because you are mighty, mighty blessed. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Plowing concrete: what church planting looks like in Russia

Great is Thy faithfulness
O God my Father
There is no shadow of
Turning with Thee.
Thou changest not
Thy compassions,
They fail not.
As Thou hast been
Thou forever wilt be.
--"Great is Thy Faithfulness"

You're unchangeable.
You're unstoppable.
You're unshakable.
That's what You are.
You are God alone.
--"Not a god (God alone)"

Yesterday was church at our house. It's such an encouraging time for us. I played the piano and sang (it's been a while since I played the piano, but it went okay), and then we had Bible study for about 2 1/2 hours, and then we had tea and sweets and played a game of cards. All together, church takes us about four to four and a half hours. It's going to be weird to go back to the States and "do" church the way it's done there. Anyway, we studied the passage where Jesus walks on the water and Peter sinks under the water after a couple of steps. For most of you who read this blog, that's a very familiar story, one you've known since you were children. But it is different here. Our Russian friends do not know these stories. In fact, one of them asked if Peter is an important person in the Bible. Next week, Jesus is going to tell him that he is Peter, and on this rock the church will be built. Yeah, he's kind of an important guy in the Bible. It was just a reminder to me of how different it is for Russians to read the Bible, a book completely unfamiliar to them. It also makes me so thankful for my own background, which is so steeped in the importance of God's word. Anyway, the Bible study was wonderful, great questions, great responses, and a whole lot of it in Russian. (Our friends also speak English to varying degrees, but Russian is the language of their hearts, and so we want to speak their heart language as much as possible.) When Marc drove them to the Metro, one of them asked about how Jeff and Karla, our team leaders, are doing church in America. He explained that they were attending a church, not having church in their home. "What is that like, Marc?" Dema asked. "Does the priest perform a ritual of some sort?" Marc responded that the answer would have to wait until next week, because they were at the Metro station, but that he would prepare an explanation for Dema of what American church was like. It was a stark reminder to us of how difficult the combination of a lifetime of communism and orthodox religion is to overcome as Russians pursue faith in Christ. I read somewhere that Russians are Orthodox in tradition and atheist in worldview. That's about as well as I've seen the Russian psyche explained.

Our dear friend, Tim, went on a mission trip to Brazil with a group of men from our church a couple of years ago. They literally walked into a village and saw hundreds come to Christ. He was astounded, and we listened to his stories with awe at what God can do. In East Asia, where communism is the law and religious persecution is the norm, there is a church planting movement that is lighting a fire across the most populous country on earth. In South Asia, where Hinduism and Buddhism are now giving way to a rise of Islamic belief, where national believers are literally putting their lives on the line, the church is growing. In the Middle East, perhaps the most dangerous place on earth to serve as a missionary, there are amazing things happening, where God is speaking to people in visions and dreams, and people are literally waiting for someone to come to them and tell them about Jesus. In Russia, we are plowing concrete. No one is running to us to be saved. No one is begging us to tell them about Jesus. We don't have stories of hundreds coming to Christ. In one place in our region, a team worked for five years before they saw a single decision for Christ. When you think of Russia, you think of the ice and snow of the tundra. It's a fitting symbol for the ice and snow that has formed over people's hearts here. If we counted on numbers of churches planted and new believers saved, it would be really discouraging.

But our God is so big, He makes this place look small. He is unshakable. He is unstoppable. He is faithful beyond comprehension. Every week, there is progress. We were talking about Peter's lack of faith, his doubts, causing him to sink under the water. I know that Dema struggles with doubts. I told him that I love Peter so much because he struggles, because he is the everyman who is so like me, because I struggle with faith and doubt sometimes, too. He smiled at me and said, "Yes, Kellye, but Jesus does not let him sink. He comes to pull him out of the water. I think reading the Bible and studying it helps with our doubts." And suddenly, there was something going on in that room. I understood that Dema was making a step forward. And while I would throw myself on the floor and praise God loudly if he had just gone ahead and made a decision for Christ right then and there, I can still get down on my knees and be grateful for the step of faith it took for Dema to say that. What God's work looks like here is different from how it looks other places, but that does not mean He isn't at work here. He is. Step by step, inch by inch, He is plowing through the frozen concrete of Russia. And on days like yesterday, when progress is evident, I'm so thankful that He asked my family to come along, put on our hard hats, and plow along with Him.

It's 9a.m., Marc is gone on a business trip for the day, and no one else in my house is awake. I think I'll take this opportunity to get a little cleaning done, so off I must go. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are watching God sweep like fire through the people He has given you to love, and that it's not a cloudy, cold day where you are. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

The sky is clear, but I know rain clouds are on the horizon

I don't know what John is doing with his hands, but his mouth is full of shashleek--Russian barbecue--which we would call shish-kebab.
Hannah and some of her pals at the fourth of July picnic. When did Hannah get this old?
Hannah making the play at the kickball world championships on July 4th. Actually, there probably is such a thing, so you should know it's actually just the kickball game they played at the picnic on July 4th.
In true John-John fashion, even when kicking the ball, he looks like he's making some kind of karate move. When he was little--maybe 4--we were outside and it was windy. He started karate chopping all over the place, and when I asked him why, he said, "I fight the wind, Mommy. I fight the wind."

There are giants in the land
But within our reach
There is a victor's sword
A mighty, sovereign Lord
The Rock of Ages.
--"Giants in the Land" by Wayne Watson

"When we heard it, our hearts melted and no courage remained in any man any longer because of you; for the LORD your God, He is God in heaven above and on earth beneath." Joshua 2:11

It's been a few days since I blogged, and I'd love to say it was because I was so busy. Unfortunately, it was because I have been so sick. I finally got into the doctor yesterday. I was able to schedule an appointment with an ENT specialist, and he suctioned out my ear, which allows me to hear again, and told me what kind of ear drops to get to cure the second infection that was lurking behind the gunk in my ear. (Lovely, I know.) Unfortunately, we have not been able to find the drops in any pharmacy yet, so this morning my ear is not painful, but not as good as yesterday. Sigh.

I have spent some time watching really good movies in the last few days. I watched Rebecca and Dead Poet's Society with Sarah Beth and Facing the Giants last night with Hannah and Marc. While I adore the movies I watched with Sarah Beth, it was the movie last night that made a real impact on me.

If you're not familiar with the movie (and we'd not seen it before), it's a production of a church in Georgia. Some of the acting isn't fabulous, though I thought the lead characters did quite well, and the production values are really good. At the end, when the main character cries out to God, "I am overwhelmed, Lord," well...there wasn't a dry eye in the room. Especially Marc and I, who cried our way through the whole movie. And I'm not talking some sniffles, either, or a few tears easily taken care of with a tissue. No, sir--I mean hand me the kleenex box kind of crying. And not just because God has taken care of so many giants to get us here to Russia--logistical giants, personal giants, spiritual giants--but also because there are many giants not just in the land, but camping out in our living room. To name a few:

• visa issues that began the week after we got here in October
• financial issues related to paying for the kids' schooling
• language issues (those would be universal for any adult learning a new language)
• health issues--we struggled through our first winter with nagging health problems
• family issues--you try being together 24/7 for over a year now!
• loneliness issues--enough said
• cultural issues--ask anyone who has been here, and they'll tell you that Russians can be hard to love collectively
  

When I look at that list, I have to be honest...it seems insurmountable. I look at that list and know that there is NO WAY that I can handle even one of those things. I look at that list, and I want to book a flight home to my Momma and Daddy and lick my wounds and get my job back and get back to "real" life.

There is a moment in the film, when the main character finds out that his job is in jeopardy, that he tells another character that God has not released him from that place. And the other character tells a story of two farmers who prayed to God for rain. One sat in the house; the other went to the fields and got them ready for rain. Which one saw the rain? The one who prepared for it because he KNEW it was coming. Until God moves you, bloom here where He planted you, the older man tells the younger. And get out there and prepare for rain. Now, I know it's just a movie, but we nearly had to hit the pause button to recover from that scene.

I am forty years old. I have had a wonderful career as a teacher. I have three beautiful children, a husband I am crazy about, a family I adore, a guaranteed spot on the praise team, a great church. So what in the world am I doing here? And with just one look at that list, why do I stay? Because, like Rahab in Numbers, I know that the Lord my God is God in heaven above and on earth below. I tremble in His presence. He called. I had no choice but to answer. He has not released me from this place. So instead of trembling in fear at that list, He wants me to prepare my fields for rain that is coming. Not that may come. That is coming. And though I'm looking outside at a bright, clear morning without a cloud in the sky, I know the rain clouds are out there somewhere, and I don't want to miss out on the harvest. The list above, by the way, isn't even half of the giants we are looking at here. Some things are simply too personal to share in such a public format. But I listed them this morning in my prayer journal, and here's the promise I made to God--as He slays each of these giants, I will publicly give Him the glory. As the giants in this land disappear one by one, I will share them with you, and together we can praise the mighty God who is God in heaven above and on earth below. Deal?

Well, it's time for me to run. We are headed to the park for a few hours of fun with some friends of ours, folks who have just recently moved here, and whose company we really enjoy. Anybody else hear the giant of loneliness starting to totter? Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are busy cultivating your fields for the rain that's on the way, and that you are spending the day playing with your kids, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

I knew all that Shakespeare would pay off some day

быт или не быт; вот чем вапрос. (To be or not to be; that is the question.)--Hamlet, Shakespeare

As I mentioned in my last post, I have been pretty sick for the last several days. Yesterday was the first better day I have had, and last night was the first night in several that I slept more than two hours. Of course, I was still up at five, but I felt pretty rested in comparison to the nights before. Unfortunately, I'm feeling kind of yuck this morning, so I'm sitting up in Marc's recliner, blogging and listening to a crime show on tv. (I don't care whether it's court tv or trutv or whatever...I love all those forensic shows.) I still feel better...just not more than I did yesterday, which was my hope. I also slept through a dose of antibiotic and tylenol, so the pain has taken hold of me this morning a little more than I'd like. So while I wait for the tylenol to kick in, I thought I'd blog a little bit.

I'm going to confess something now, and it's only going to confirm for you that I'm as big a nerd as you think I am. I love Shakespeare. Honestly, I have ready all of Shakespeare (thank you, Dr. Jones), and I really enjoy his work. I like teaching him (though he can be a little dark for high school), I like reading him, I like analyzing him. But I must tell you that all those years ago, when I was sitting in Dr. Jones' class and reading the entirety of the big, red Shakespeare book, I wondered if it would ever mean anything in "real" life. I mean, it's fun to read, good stories and all that, but was I ever going to use it? (Of course, I became an English teacher and taught some Shakespeare every single year for seventeen years, but that's a different story.) In the last few days of being sort of still and quiet (an anomaly for me), I've had some time to think about ol' Shakespeare, and I've decided that there's some pretty good stuff in there, stuff I can use in real life. And if I'm going to use something in real life, the most elemental question in Shakespeare is the quote above. To be or not to be?

Now, let me clarify that when Hamlet utters these words, he's really contemplating whether life is worth living or if he should just go ahead and kill himself. After all, his uncle has killed his father, married his mother, and taken over the kingdom. To top it all off, his father's ghost is pressuring him to seek vengeance and he's got a girlfriend with some stability/sanity issues. Hamlet has troubles. He has issues. So he's really contemplating something I'm not. I'm a pretty life-affirming gal. Even in the pain of the worst ear infection in the history of mankind, I'm not trying to figure out whether or not life is worth living. It is. Unequivocally, life is worth living.

However, I've had some time to think about why that question is so elemental to who we are. We have choices to make about who we are. We have choices to make about how we present ourselves to others. We have choices to make about the life we live. As I've thought about it, at least from a Christian perspective, to be means to be exactly what God created you to be. Not to be is trying to be something else. Every day, maybe every minute, we decide to be or not to be. This blog is a great example. I could decide to present to you a voice of confidence and perfection and passionate fire for the work of God. But that wouldn't always be the truth. Perfection wouldn't ever be the truth, and this new world has taken some of my confidence, and to be honest, some days I just want to live a normal life in Middleburg, Florida, and leave the "God work" to those who can do it better and are more worthy of doing it. So I have to decide...am I going to be or not be?

It's hard for me to choose to be the person I am, created by God in a specific way, but flawed, flawed, flawed. I would love to be more together, with a house that's always clean, two cars in the garage, perfect children, and a full bank account with no financial worries. But I'm not that person. I have a messy apartment, a car only because somebody else left town, a far from perfect family, and school tuition that I have no clue how I'm going to pay. But somewhere along the way, God chose me and my imperfect bunch to do something kind of extraordinary. We still can't tell you why, but He picked us for this place at this time. And though we don't know all the answers to every question in our lives, we have learned beyond all else that He is faithful. Faithful to provide, faithful to save, faithful to protect...faithful. All I have to do is be faithful to be the person He created me to be--warts and all.

Well, it's 7:30, and I've been up for a while, so I think I'm going to lay down and watch my crime shows. (Did your grandmother used to say she was watching her stories? That's what I was going for there.) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that your choice today is to be, and that where you live it's not 56 degrees in the summer. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Blessings in droves

John-John and his iguana pal high-fiving each other at the Moscow zoo. We went earlier this week with our friends who left on Thursday for a year of Stateside Assignment (STAS) in Florida.
Our Sarah Beth with her friend, Sarah Beth. They call themselves SBSquared. What goofballs. This is also at the Moscow zoo.

Our help is in the name of the LORD, who made heaven and earth. Psalm 124:8

It's funny how God answers our prayers sometimes. I prayed and prayed that July 4th would not be depressing. The first year we have not celebrated in the good ol' U.S.A., far away from home, without our traditional day at the pool with my parents and aunt and uncle...it had the makings of a depressing day of homesickness. Instead, Marc and the kids spent the day at an all-mission picnic (where Marc was the hero of the kickball game, at least according to him), and I stayed at home sick as a dog. See--I didn't have time to feel homesick. Prayer answered. I was too busy rocking back and forth in the fetal position from the pain of an ear infection that I let get out of hand because I just thought I had a clogged ear. Unfortunately, the pain radiating with every heartbeat down my neck and into my jaw declared that, indeed, there was an infection. I took augmentin and then penicillin, all to no avail. Luckily for me, my friend Frances called from the riverbed in Alabama yesterday and gave me the Russian name of a really high-powered antibiotic they prescribe in the U.S. Marc was kind enough to run to the pharmacy and pick it up, and after 1,000 mgs last night and another 1000 mgs this morning, I'm still in a lot of pain, but I can tell I'm the tiniest bit better. The screaming in my ear is down to a ringing, which isn't pleasant but is bearable. I'm hoping after another day today of light activity (I had no activity yesterday at all) that I'll be a lot better by tomorrow. There is something to be said for getting anything over the counter you want.

One thing I did do yesterday was talk to my parents and to my friend, Frances, and to my best friend, Tara. Frances is just one of those people who is a helper. She and her family are on STAS until September 1st, but she took the time on July 4th to call me and check in to see how we were handling our first Independence Day away from home. Frances has taken me places in her car, helped me with medications, and pitched in whenever help was needed. When our pipes burst and the kids were here with the neighbors screaming at them, it was her husband, Kris, who flew to the rescue. I look forward to them coming back in September, and spending time with them again. But one of the things that really hit me yesterday after talking to Tara was the kind of friendships I have formed in the last year, and how they really are God's fulfillment of the desires of my heart.

Tara and Matt and Marc and I met at candidate conference last April. We were in the same small group, which meant that we spent basically the whole time together. We also made other friends--Robert and Elaine, who are in Budapest--and we all just hit it off. It was one of those things where you are forced to be 100% real with people, because you're all in the same boat. Everybody is going to go through the interview, which is a little daunting, to be honest. Everybody is going to have to deal with medical stuff. Everybody is going to have to sign that paper that says the IMB doesn't negotiate with terrorists, and we want to go anyway. You're all there together. So I can honestly tell you that the weekend we all spent together was like friendship at hyperspeed. And I'm not that person. I'm not an open-up-and-talk-about-your-feelings kind of gal. I'm really not. So these friendships that had the stamp of eternity were kind of a shock to me.

Then we all went to FPO together. And we made more friends. There were the precious people in our quad--Darrell and Vicki, who are in Prague, Johann and Stacy and our precious baby Jack, who are in Prague, and Larry and Melissa, also in Prague, Greg and Barbara and their precious girls, in a place I can't mention, Shea and Rachel and Erin and Seba in Poland--precious, precious people to us. We spent hours together, playing, praying, worshiping, and just living together. I can't describe for you exactly what FPO is like, but it's an intense, draining time that you spend with people you really, really love. And our friendships just grew and grew and grew.

One of the great support pieces the IMB has put in place for us is these friendships. We talk often to these people from around the world, who share our heart, who know our warts (you can't live together that long and not show every fault you have), and who love us anyway. When Tara called yesterday, she didn't tell me how I should feel or tell me I was wrong or tell me I wasn't being very "Christian-ly"...she just let me talk and loved me and loved me and loved me. Then she got off the phone and prayed for me. And then she and her precious husband prayed for us together. Isn't that what real friendship looks like?

Several years ago, Marc and I lost a group of friends we had spent a great deal of time with. It was a terrible time, and something I don't want to rehash here for various reasons. But it occurred to me this morning that during that time we cried out again and again to God in our loneliness, praying for friendships that were real, that counted, that were without judgment attached, friendships we could feel so comfortable in that we could just be ourselves without fearing that we would be suddenly cut off because someone decided we weren't good enough to be friends with anymore. And He has answered that prayer in droves. My Daddy often comments that we sure do have a lot more social activities in Moscow than we ever had in Middleburg, and he's right. And without fail, every week since we've been here, we've talked to at least one of our "mission friends," people we love and who love us, whose friendship is invaluable to us, who are God's answer to our prayers all those years ago.

Never in my life did I imagine that my best friends would live in places like Prague and Brazil. Never did I imagine a world in which this blog would be read by people all over the world, because we have friends all over the world. God is funny and big and unpredictable. And though neither Tara nor I have found that one soulmate in the places where we serve, I think I can speak for both us when I say that we are forever grateful to a God who loves us enough to give us each other.

Well, I have been sitting up for a whole hour now, and the ringing in my ear is climbing back up to a scream, so I'm going to take that as a sign to lie back down for a while. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that if you are blessed enough to have a best friend you can give them a hug, and that you catch your ear infection before it turns into the roaring disaster that mine is. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

He is not asleep

Our precious friends at house church. When we want to leave, these are the people who God has given us to keep us here.

I will lift up my eyes to the mountains; from where shall my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth. He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. Psalm 121:1-4

This will not be long--I have to head to the grocery store and buy our stuff for a picnic lunch before we meet friends at the metro for a trip to the Moscow Zoo--but I did not want to let another day go by without a blog. First of all, my family worries if I go for very long without blogging, and also, I actually have something edifying to say.

It's been a rough week. I mean a rough, rough week. Visa problems, friends leaving, upheaval, discontent, and above all, loneliness. By Thursday, the suitcases were out, and we were ready to come home. Let me rephrase that--I was ready to come home. I was ready to be good at something again. I was ready for life to be a little easier. I was ready to be content with life. I was ready to have close friends, and especially for my children to have close friends. But after some conversations, we put the suitcases away and sat down for a minute. What is really going on here? Why are we so discouraged?

When I really sat down to pray about the discouragement, and I mean really pray, not just a cursory prayer, I realized that I had spent a lot of time praying, but very little time listening. So on Sunday morning, I made myself sit for ten minutes and just listen. I asked the question, "God, how can I be encouraged in such a hard place?" and then I sat. I didn't clean. I didn't journal. I didn't listen to music. I just sat. And nothing phenomenal happened. I didn't hear some kind of voice. I didn't feel the moving of His spirit within me. Nothing. All I could think of was "Be still and know that I am God." I'm not God. He is. And He isn't asleep. We aren't alone. We may feel alone, but we aren't really.

And then, of course, we had house church at our home for the first time. After great praise and worship and 2 1/2 hours of studying the Bible, we fellowshipped for another three hours or so. Spontaneous singing broke out near the end of our time together. But best of all, when they came in and took their shoes off, they were glad to be here. The Russians volunteered to lead music and Bible study next week. We had a wonderful time together, the most encouraging time all week. As Marc and I talked about it afterward, it occurred to us that God's gift to us has been these people, these names and faces in whose path He has placed us. When we really, really think about going home, inevitably someone says (usually one of the children), "But what would _______________ do without us?" What would Liliana do without us? or Vika? or Dema? or Sardonna? or Ksenia? Who will lead them to Jesus? We are here. We have been placed in their path. If not us, who? And then we know that we cannot go home. Maybe God will not call us back here after our first term. Maybe three years is all He requires of us. But for this moment in time, we are here, and that is really all that matters. With eternal consequences for people we love on the line, there really are not decisions to make.

And so we stay. And we practice our Russian, and we go to the zoo, and we get ready for July 4th, which is supposed to be rainy and cold here. And we thank God that there are people all over the world, some we know and love and some we have never met, who are standing in the gap for us, holding up our arms because we are simply too exhausted to do it for ourselves. Many, many of you who read this blog are gap-fillers. You are precious to me, dear friend. Thank you for standing in the gap for this tired, tired woman.

Well, it's off to the grocery. Nothing like walking a mile and a half for your bananas to make you appreciate them! Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are encouraged to know that the God of Everything not only does not sleep nor slumber, but is constantly holding you in the palm of His mighty right hand, and that you are looking forward to your trip to the monkey house today. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye