As obedient children, do not be conformed to the former lusts which were yours in your ignorance, but like the Holy One who called you, be holy yourselves also in all your behavior; because it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.” I Peter 1:14-16
I know for lots of people, the “former lusts” which sometimes haunt them are things that others see as obvious sins. For me, that isn’t true. The “former lusts” with which I struggle are those parts of my personality which have made me very successful in my career as an educator—being driven to succeed, being a perfectionist, having a need to be in charge and control, being an organized leader. On the surface, none of these seem like terrible things which God frowns upon. And of themselves, they’re not. But for me, combined together, they have made for a life that has been very successful from the world’s point of view, but not terribly successful from the point of view of the Biblical standard for women.
The most difficult part of being in Russia for me has not been the weather or the language or the time it takes to get things done or the homesickness I sometimes feel for home and my parents. The most difficult thing has been the absolute loss of my identity or at least what I considered my identity. You know what? No one here cares that I can sing—most people here can sing. No one here cares that I have been super teacher in the past. No one is fighting to get their kids into my class—the only kids in my class are the three I gave birth to. You know who they’re really excited about being here? Marc. Marc is the one they prayed for all these years. I’m not saying people aren’t happy I’m here, because they are, and I am making some great friends. What I’m saying is that the skill set that Marc brings to the field is the reason we’re here. For the first time in my life, I am taking a backseat to what Marc can do. I am in the support position. For years, he did lots of things so I could be the kind of teacher I wanted to be. Now, it’s my turn. And it’s hard. It’s really, really hard. I am a home schooling housewife, and I’m telling you, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Little by little—and some days, in great big chunks—God is stripping me of all the stuff that I had built up in my mind as success. Success used to be high scores on the AP exam or awards for my teaching or applause for a song well sung. These days, success is a good meal or a particularly good family movie night or a lesson that went well for one of the kids. Success is getting them to school for p.e. and being able to explain to the security guard in a very simple sentence what we’re doing there. Success is finding a Christmas present at a price I can afford. Success is getting up early and having my quiet time so that when Marc gets up the coffee is ready. Success is snuggling with John-John before he goes to sleep and having him put his skinny little arm over me and tell me that he loves me very much. Success is seeing my kids make friends. Success is watching Hannah finally settle into being here. Success looks really, really different for me these days. But can I tell you this? For all the success I have enjoyed in my life, none has been as sweet as the daily victories of a family life that is becoming more successful every day. None has been as sweet as watching my children start to thrive in their schoolwork. None has been as sweet as having breakfast and dinner together every day and night, and actually having the energy to sit down and talk with each person about what has happened in their day. It’s hard, and it’s so much work, but daily God is changing me more and more into the person He sees when He looks at me, and less and less like the person I used to be.
So here’s the rub: I have an offer to teach at the Christian school. It’s a great school, and I love the people there. I am enjoying taking the kids Tuesday and Thursday for p.e., lunch, and recess. And basically, I can have my choice of schedules. I can start an AP class there, something I’ve done for years and know how to do. And the kids could go to school there full-time. It’s a tempting offer. But here’s what I’m praying through, and if you read this, I’d ask that you pray through it with me. Going back to teaching full-time outside my home is going to drag me away from what I’m learning to be here. It’s going to take me away from home schooling the kids. It’s going to take my focus from my home and place it elsewhere. Is that what God wants for me and my family? Or is He making such a change in me that I can now magically do what I could not do in the past—focus on my job when I’m at my job, but maintain my focus on my home, too. Pray with me about this. I am very, very torn. I would love some feedback. If you don’t feel comfortable leaving a comment, you can email me at hooksfamily@everyheart.net.
Okay, so the story behind the title—I grew up reading the Laura Ingalls Wilder books and watching the tv show, and I loved both immensely. In fact, I used to play Little House and Waltons all the time when I was younger. (I can hear you snickering. It’s not polite.) So as I walked the mile to the metro and the mile and a half to the school yesterday in the driving wind and pouring snow, it occurred to me that all those years of reading those books was finally paying off, for now I could honestly say that I had walked two miles in the snow uphill both ways to school. :o)
I love you guys so much. I hope that you have a wonderful day and weekend. I pray that whatever you are doing, you will look a little more each day the person God sees when He looks at you. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
'Tis a gift to be simple
‘Tis a gift to be simple
‘Tis a gift to be free
‘Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be.
--Old Shaker hymn
Let me say up front that this blog is inspired by a beautiful email I received from my friend Tara, who lives with her family in Brazil. I want to give credit where credit is due. After reading her email and responding, I thought you might want to know what things and people I am really, really thankful for this year. Tomorrow, I’ll write about the great night we had last night as we put up our Christmas tree and decorations.
I am thankful for:
• My apartment, which is big by Russian standards
• The babushka downstairs, who was worried something had happened to us the other night when we dropped and broke a pan lid
• A good grocery store that’s less than a mile walk
• Being able to get on the metro and ride wherever I need to go
• Being able to understand much of what is said to me
• My Christmas ornaments and decorations, which (thanks to my mother’s wrapping job) were in great condition
• The Christmas tree that was left for us by the folks who used to live here (trees cost in the hundreds of dollars)
• The friends my children are making
• That home schooling is allowing me to know my children in a different way than I have before
• That home schooling is getting a little easier each day
• Our team, whom we love and adore
• The leadership team in Russia, which is made of Godly men whose judgment I trust
• New friends we grow closer to daily
• Old friends who continue to keep in touch with us
• That the internet was up and working long enough Thanksgiving night for Marc to talk to his parents for an hour (afterwards, it immediately crashed)
• That Lottie Moon pays my bills and I don’t have to ask others for money to support me here
• My Ziploc bags, which I brought from the states (they really do dry well on the tile, Tara…thanks for the advice)
• That the internet was up and working long enough for Marc to “watch” the Texas/A&M game last night while skyping back and forth with his friend, Larry (the game started at 1a.m. our time…I have no idea when he got to sleep)
• My Easy Spirit shoes, which I bought because they were on sale, and which turn out to have great grip on the ice
• My jammy pants, which I also bought on a whim and wear every single night
• Really good long underwear
• Fur-lined boots, which keep our toes warm
• That my sister, Kay, has bought a plan where she can call as much as she wants for $20 a month and that I’ve gotten to talk to my parents every day since they got to her house
• That I got to talk to my other sister, Cathy, last night
• That Sarah Beth and I were able to go Christmas shopping yesterday
• That I brought Herman and Henrietta with me and they are perched on my Christmas tree (thanks Melissa and Gail!)
• Irina, our language teacher, who is the person of peace we prayed for in Moscow
• Leslie, the language enoch (person who is in charge of everyone’s language study) who not only sent us Irina, but has been unbelievably helpful in a thousand different ways, including bringing us three boxes of books her children are no longer needing
• My FPO friends, who call and write and generally encourage me daily—gifts from God
• My sending church, which loves us and keeps tabs on us
• Our partner churches, which encourage people to pray for us
• Kay’s Sunday School class, which has loved us like their own
• A $5 can of pumpkin, with which I made unbelievably good pumpkin pie last night
• My pastor, Alan Floyd, who is a big reason we were able to answer this call
• That people like you read this blog and encourage me through your emails, comments, and prayers for me and for my family
• That the God of the Universe called me to something unusual and different (okay, and hard) because He’s doing something unusual and different (okay, and hard) in my life and the life of my family
See? I told you it’s a long list. And here’s the thing: I didn’t even put half of what’s on my list in my blessings book. Not even half. If you look with eyes of faith—blessings are everywhere. It’s easy during the Christmas season to get caught up in packages and presents and all the “trappings” of the season—and those things are wonderful and fun. But if you take the time this season to really look at all the ways God is blessing you, and if you choose to see even the smallest things as coming from Him, I know you’ll be overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for all He’s done and is doing in your life, too. I am overwhelmed with contentment and peace when I choose to be aware of how He’s working. I would love to hear what you’re thankful for, too. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
‘Tis a gift to be free
‘Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be.
--Old Shaker hymn
Let me say up front that this blog is inspired by a beautiful email I received from my friend Tara, who lives with her family in Brazil. I want to give credit where credit is due. After reading her email and responding, I thought you might want to know what things and people I am really, really thankful for this year. Tomorrow, I’ll write about the great night we had last night as we put up our Christmas tree and decorations.
I am thankful for:
• My apartment, which is big by Russian standards
• The babushka downstairs, who was worried something had happened to us the other night when we dropped and broke a pan lid
• A good grocery store that’s less than a mile walk
• Being able to get on the metro and ride wherever I need to go
• Being able to understand much of what is said to me
• My Christmas ornaments and decorations, which (thanks to my mother’s wrapping job) were in great condition
• The Christmas tree that was left for us by the folks who used to live here (trees cost in the hundreds of dollars)
• The friends my children are making
• That home schooling is allowing me to know my children in a different way than I have before
• That home schooling is getting a little easier each day
• Our team, whom we love and adore
• The leadership team in Russia, which is made of Godly men whose judgment I trust
• New friends we grow closer to daily
• Old friends who continue to keep in touch with us
• That the internet was up and working long enough Thanksgiving night for Marc to talk to his parents for an hour (afterwards, it immediately crashed)
• That Lottie Moon pays my bills and I don’t have to ask others for money to support me here
• My Ziploc bags, which I brought from the states (they really do dry well on the tile, Tara…thanks for the advice)
• That the internet was up and working long enough for Marc to “watch” the Texas/A&M game last night while skyping back and forth with his friend, Larry (the game started at 1a.m. our time…I have no idea when he got to sleep)
• My Easy Spirit shoes, which I bought because they were on sale, and which turn out to have great grip on the ice
• My jammy pants, which I also bought on a whim and wear every single night
• Really good long underwear
• Fur-lined boots, which keep our toes warm
• That my sister, Kay, has bought a plan where she can call as much as she wants for $20 a month and that I’ve gotten to talk to my parents every day since they got to her house
• That I got to talk to my other sister, Cathy, last night
• That Sarah Beth and I were able to go Christmas shopping yesterday
• That I brought Herman and Henrietta with me and they are perched on my Christmas tree (thanks Melissa and Gail!)
• Irina, our language teacher, who is the person of peace we prayed for in Moscow
• Leslie, the language enoch (person who is in charge of everyone’s language study) who not only sent us Irina, but has been unbelievably helpful in a thousand different ways, including bringing us three boxes of books her children are no longer needing
• My FPO friends, who call and write and generally encourage me daily—gifts from God
• My sending church, which loves us and keeps tabs on us
• Our partner churches, which encourage people to pray for us
• Kay’s Sunday School class, which has loved us like their own
• A $5 can of pumpkin, with which I made unbelievably good pumpkin pie last night
• My pastor, Alan Floyd, who is a big reason we were able to answer this call
• That people like you read this blog and encourage me through your emails, comments, and prayers for me and for my family
• That the God of the Universe called me to something unusual and different (okay, and hard) because He’s doing something unusual and different (okay, and hard) in my life and the life of my family
See? I told you it’s a long list. And here’s the thing: I didn’t even put half of what’s on my list in my blessings book. Not even half. If you look with eyes of faith—blessings are everywhere. It’s easy during the Christmas season to get caught up in packages and presents and all the “trappings” of the season—and those things are wonderful and fun. But if you take the time this season to really look at all the ways God is blessing you, and if you choose to see even the smallest things as coming from Him, I know you’ll be overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for all He’s done and is doing in your life, too. I am overwhelmed with contentment and peace when I choose to be aware of how He’s working. I would love to hear what you’re thankful for, too. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7
Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. Philippians 4:6-7 (Msg)
I love Thanksgiving on many levels. For one thing, I love to cook, so it makes me very happy to be in the kitchen rustling up grub for a group. It’s also the beginning of Christmas for our family, and I adore everything about Christmas. Plastic santas on the lawn make me happy. I love the big tree at one of the malls here, which is actually a huge wire structure with totally fake branches kind of glued on willy-nilly. Doesn’t matter to me, because I love Christmas. But back to Thanksgiving. Most of all, I love the chance to get together with family and think on all of the things we have to be thankful for. So I was totally prepared for today to be hard in many ways. Worried about homesickness for the family we left behind, I secretly began to dread the holiday I’ve always loved. So for once, I followed the advice of my own life verse, and I gave that particular concern to God, thanking Him for the ways in which this Thanksgiving would be different for our family. And you know what happened? The kind of peace that defies logic (or transcends all understanding) just rained down all over me. And it turns out that it’s okay to miss my family and friends in the States and still enjoy what I have here. Because in many ways, what I have here is pretty great.
We spent the day with our IMB family here in Moscow. Gathering at the local Christian school, we numbered between 70 and 80. (Lots of families in Moscow, and many have four or five children, so when we get together…it’s a mess of us.) It was so fun. We ate great food and we spent time singing songs about being thankful for what we have. We played games, ate more, and then played more games. At the end of the day, Hannah went home with one family, Sarah Beth went off with the teenagers to someone’s house, and John-John was the only one who came home with us. (He’s sitting on the couch right now, pretty zonked, because he discovered sledding today…our lives may never be the same.) It was different, certainly, than what we’re used to—for one thing, it took us an hour, a bus, and two metro stops and a one mile hike on the ice to get there, rather than staying in the comfort of our home. And we definitely didn’t wear shorts like we have in years past! (20 degrees is a little too chilly for that.) But if what we longed for what for everything to stay exactly the same, we came to the wrong place. I don’t know anywhere in the world where Thanksgiving is exactly the same there as it is in the States. Every place has its hardships. My friend is in Brazil, and she’s burning up and dealing with bugs. Other friends are in Africa and enduring a hard life in the bush. We’re in Europe’s largest city, and we’re getting used to what that means for us. But I’m thankful today for the differences. I’m thankful that God called us here. I am learning to love this city God has called me to love. I am learning to be content in all things…even the hard ones. I’m learning to love the outdoor markets which are totally different from anything in the states. I’m even learning to love the metro and the bus, because it gives me a chance to be up close and personal with Russians, especially now that I can carry on some kind of conversation. I’m thankful that God did not call us and leave us alone here. I’m glad He isn’t the “great clockmaker” the Deists believed Him to be—uninterested in the world He created. I daily sense His presence in our every day life. And I’m thankful for that gift.
The list of things to be thankful for is long. I know, because the other day I just started writing down all the things we are blessed with in our lives here. A tremendous mission family—who have loved us beyond what is reasonable or explicable. A wonderful biological family—who call and email and keep us in their thoughts and prayers and who have fully embraced God’s call upon our lives as the call upon the whole family. Friends in the States who love us and email us. Our mission friends around the world. Not a single day we have been here has been without an email or a skype message or a call from someone somewhere in the world—just to commiserate with us about how hard this is and to love us, love us, love us. I just started writing the list on a whim—I had prayed during my quiet time some kind of general thing, like “I have so much to be thankful for,” and it occurred to me (divine inspiration?) that it wouldn’t hurt me to make a list. Oh, my goodness…it was long, and it gets longer each day. It is a good exercise to count your blessings literally. Put together on a page, they go on and on and on and on. His mercies are new each morning, and so are His immense blessings.
So this Thanksgiving day, rather than just going around the table and naming one thing for which you are thankful, I challenge you to start a list of your own. Really count the blessings of this life. But be warned, my friends—you’re going to need a whole book in which to write. I love each of you, and I hope your day is wonderful and warm! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. Philippians 4:6-7 (Msg)
I love Thanksgiving on many levels. For one thing, I love to cook, so it makes me very happy to be in the kitchen rustling up grub for a group. It’s also the beginning of Christmas for our family, and I adore everything about Christmas. Plastic santas on the lawn make me happy. I love the big tree at one of the malls here, which is actually a huge wire structure with totally fake branches kind of glued on willy-nilly. Doesn’t matter to me, because I love Christmas. But back to Thanksgiving. Most of all, I love the chance to get together with family and think on all of the things we have to be thankful for. So I was totally prepared for today to be hard in many ways. Worried about homesickness for the family we left behind, I secretly began to dread the holiday I’ve always loved. So for once, I followed the advice of my own life verse, and I gave that particular concern to God, thanking Him for the ways in which this Thanksgiving would be different for our family. And you know what happened? The kind of peace that defies logic (or transcends all understanding) just rained down all over me. And it turns out that it’s okay to miss my family and friends in the States and still enjoy what I have here. Because in many ways, what I have here is pretty great.
We spent the day with our IMB family here in Moscow. Gathering at the local Christian school, we numbered between 70 and 80. (Lots of families in Moscow, and many have four or five children, so when we get together…it’s a mess of us.) It was so fun. We ate great food and we spent time singing songs about being thankful for what we have. We played games, ate more, and then played more games. At the end of the day, Hannah went home with one family, Sarah Beth went off with the teenagers to someone’s house, and John-John was the only one who came home with us. (He’s sitting on the couch right now, pretty zonked, because he discovered sledding today…our lives may never be the same.) It was different, certainly, than what we’re used to—for one thing, it took us an hour, a bus, and two metro stops and a one mile hike on the ice to get there, rather than staying in the comfort of our home. And we definitely didn’t wear shorts like we have in years past! (20 degrees is a little too chilly for that.) But if what we longed for what for everything to stay exactly the same, we came to the wrong place. I don’t know anywhere in the world where Thanksgiving is exactly the same there as it is in the States. Every place has its hardships. My friend is in Brazil, and she’s burning up and dealing with bugs. Other friends are in Africa and enduring a hard life in the bush. We’re in Europe’s largest city, and we’re getting used to what that means for us. But I’m thankful today for the differences. I’m thankful that God called us here. I am learning to love this city God has called me to love. I am learning to be content in all things…even the hard ones. I’m learning to love the outdoor markets which are totally different from anything in the states. I’m even learning to love the metro and the bus, because it gives me a chance to be up close and personal with Russians, especially now that I can carry on some kind of conversation. I’m thankful that God did not call us and leave us alone here. I’m glad He isn’t the “great clockmaker” the Deists believed Him to be—uninterested in the world He created. I daily sense His presence in our every day life. And I’m thankful for that gift.
The list of things to be thankful for is long. I know, because the other day I just started writing down all the things we are blessed with in our lives here. A tremendous mission family—who have loved us beyond what is reasonable or explicable. A wonderful biological family—who call and email and keep us in their thoughts and prayers and who have fully embraced God’s call upon our lives as the call upon the whole family. Friends in the States who love us and email us. Our mission friends around the world. Not a single day we have been here has been without an email or a skype message or a call from someone somewhere in the world—just to commiserate with us about how hard this is and to love us, love us, love us. I just started writing the list on a whim—I had prayed during my quiet time some kind of general thing, like “I have so much to be thankful for,” and it occurred to me (divine inspiration?) that it wouldn’t hurt me to make a list. Oh, my goodness…it was long, and it gets longer each day. It is a good exercise to count your blessings literally. Put together on a page, they go on and on and on and on. His mercies are new each morning, and so are His immense blessings.
So this Thanksgiving day, rather than just going around the table and naming one thing for which you are thankful, I challenge you to start a list of your own. Really count the blessings of this life. But be warned, my friends—you’re going to need a whole book in which to write. I love each of you, and I hope your day is wonderful and warm! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Monday, November 19, 2007
My children
Behold, children are a gift of the LORD, the fruit of the womb is a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, so are the children of one's youth. How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them; they will not be ashamed when they speak with their enemies in the gate. Psalm 127:3-5
Since it's the week of Thanksgiving, I thought it an appropriate time to tell you what I am thankful for and what I am learning about my children. Because I am homeschooling them, and because we are here together so much of the day, I am learning things I never knew about my children, and it is causing me to have a brand-new appreciation for the people they are turning out to be. And for those of you who don't know my darlings, this is a chance for you to get to know them.
Sarah Beth is fifteen, and when she was thirteen, I could not imagine a time when I would just love being around her. Cranky and rude, disrespectful and hard-headed...it was not a pleasant year. But she has turned into one of my favorite people. She is funny and compassionate, and she is more thoughtful and sensitive than I knew until we came here. Sarah Beth does the dishes for me while I'm in my language lesson every day. She often bakes something for the family (which is great, because she is really, really good at it). She daily checks to see if there is anything new from her friends, and she worries about those in high security places we can't mention. She is creative and talented, and we've turned over decorating the apartment to her. She can take stencils, markers, tape, and butcher block paper and make something neat for her room. She's just talented at it. And with no training at all, she has picked up how to read Russian...a feat I am particularly impressed with since it took me much longer. She can even understand much of what is being said around her in Russian. She walked to the store (a mile each way) yesterday in the freezing, freezing cold (it was about 10) so that she could get the stuff to bake cookies for us last night. She has embraced much about this adventure in a way that has been very, very gratifying for us to watch. As I look at her, I see glimpses of the woman she will one day be, and I have to tell you...I really like so much of what I see. This tells you much about S.B.'s heart: on the way home from church on Sunday, I heard her say, "Oh, Mommy...I feel so bad for that doggy. He must be cold." On closer perusal, it was a black trash bag caught in the wind. But the thought of something being stuck out in the cold was more than her heart could stand. That's just Sarah Beth.
Hannah is my middle child, and in many ways, she is a typical middle child. She is the social butterfly of the family, and her adjustment to living in Russia has been the hardest by far. When we were at FPO, Hannah was never in her room. Instead, she was out with a whole circle of friends, crocheting and working on different projects together. She misses her friends tremendously, and she has mourned them in many ways here. So, what I've come to appreciate about Hannah is her absolute loyalty. She sticks with people. She checks her email and is always delighted to write back to whomever has written her--a difficulty on many days, since our internet is often down. She is loving to others in many ways, and she is delighted by the many "aunts and uncles" she has gained in our time with the IMB. She is more of a math kid than I thought, and she is daily gaining confidence in those abilities (though division escapes her, much to her chagrin). She is probably the child who is least like either of us. I can see a little of me (she's the same kind of student I am) and a little of Marc (who is fiercely loyal to people), but there are lots of things about Hannah that I have no idea where they come from. She is quickly growing into a young lady, and a pretty one at that, but she is still, in her heart of hearts, a little girl, which we are very, very pleased with. Every morning, Hannah is the first kid out of bed, and I almost always find her curled up in our bed, snuggling under the blankets, loving on her Daddy. She is talented and loving, and she is trying to find her way here. I believe Hannah will grow into her role here in Russia, and I'm excited to see what that will look like.
And then there's John-John. Our friends Pat and Jane laughed when we found out we were having a boy, because we had no clue how a boy was going to change our lives, and they were right. John-John is much more tender than I knew before we came here. He said something last night that hurt my feelings, and he was crushed. He doesn't like to hurt people, though he loves to terrorize his sisters. And while he can be the most frustrating of my three children, he can also be the funniest and most loving. He has mastered the armpit fart since we've been here, and he has made some of the funniest movies on my iMac that I've ever seen. Even the girls love to watch them and giggle at him. While his hyperactivity can be a challenge in a large city like this, I rarely hear him complain about the cold--this is all a big adventure to him. And while his mommy is sometimes reluctant to speak Russian if it isn't going to be absolutely perfect, John is not concerned with a language barrier. Frankly, he has made contact with more Russians than the rest of us, because he has charmed the entire city of Moscow. Irina is in love with him, pronouncing him a "wonderful boy" on a daily basis. He runs so that she will chase and tickle him. He has charmed the babushkas who sit in the guard booths at the bottom of the metro. He has learned to ride the metro with the best of them, maintaining his balance even while he's being absolutely crushed by all the people. Here is a perfect example of John's magic at work: while we were at the conference center, some teenage boys came in to play ping pong. Of course, they were pretty good at it, and our little boys all wanted to watch. The adults didn't want to watch, because the teenage boys all had terrible, terrible body odor--the kind that knocks you out when you open the door. So we stayed in the conference room and talked and laughed. When I went out to use the restroom, I found that John has talked his way into the game, and one of the teenagers is helping him learn how to hit the ball with the paddle, holding his hand on the paddle and helping him swing. The other teenagers are clapping for him. And to be honest, I felt kind of ashamed. I hadn't wanted to be around them because they smelled so bad, but John-John was right there with them, playing and laughing and talking. He didn't care how they smelled. He was just glad to be with them. It may turn out that John-John is the actual missionary, and Marc and I are just the way he got to Russia.
Well, those are the things I am thankful for about my three arrows. I am getting to know them better each day, and while they aren't perfect, and there are days I'm ready to climb the walls, I am glad for this chance to really get to know them well. It turns out that they are people I like. Now THAT'S something to be thankful about this holiday season! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Since it's the week of Thanksgiving, I thought it an appropriate time to tell you what I am thankful for and what I am learning about my children. Because I am homeschooling them, and because we are here together so much of the day, I am learning things I never knew about my children, and it is causing me to have a brand-new appreciation for the people they are turning out to be. And for those of you who don't know my darlings, this is a chance for you to get to know them.
Sarah Beth is fifteen, and when she was thirteen, I could not imagine a time when I would just love being around her. Cranky and rude, disrespectful and hard-headed...it was not a pleasant year. But she has turned into one of my favorite people. She is funny and compassionate, and she is more thoughtful and sensitive than I knew until we came here. Sarah Beth does the dishes for me while I'm in my language lesson every day. She often bakes something for the family (which is great, because she is really, really good at it). She daily checks to see if there is anything new from her friends, and she worries about those in high security places we can't mention. She is creative and talented, and we've turned over decorating the apartment to her. She can take stencils, markers, tape, and butcher block paper and make something neat for her room. She's just talented at it. And with no training at all, she has picked up how to read Russian...a feat I am particularly impressed with since it took me much longer. She can even understand much of what is being said around her in Russian. She walked to the store (a mile each way) yesterday in the freezing, freezing cold (it was about 10) so that she could get the stuff to bake cookies for us last night. She has embraced much about this adventure in a way that has been very, very gratifying for us to watch. As I look at her, I see glimpses of the woman she will one day be, and I have to tell you...I really like so much of what I see. This tells you much about S.B.'s heart: on the way home from church on Sunday, I heard her say, "Oh, Mommy...I feel so bad for that doggy. He must be cold." On closer perusal, it was a black trash bag caught in the wind. But the thought of something being stuck out in the cold was more than her heart could stand. That's just Sarah Beth.
Hannah is my middle child, and in many ways, she is a typical middle child. She is the social butterfly of the family, and her adjustment to living in Russia has been the hardest by far. When we were at FPO, Hannah was never in her room. Instead, she was out with a whole circle of friends, crocheting and working on different projects together. She misses her friends tremendously, and she has mourned them in many ways here. So, what I've come to appreciate about Hannah is her absolute loyalty. She sticks with people. She checks her email and is always delighted to write back to whomever has written her--a difficulty on many days, since our internet is often down. She is loving to others in many ways, and she is delighted by the many "aunts and uncles" she has gained in our time with the IMB. She is more of a math kid than I thought, and she is daily gaining confidence in those abilities (though division escapes her, much to her chagrin). She is probably the child who is least like either of us. I can see a little of me (she's the same kind of student I am) and a little of Marc (who is fiercely loyal to people), but there are lots of things about Hannah that I have no idea where they come from. She is quickly growing into a young lady, and a pretty one at that, but she is still, in her heart of hearts, a little girl, which we are very, very pleased with. Every morning, Hannah is the first kid out of bed, and I almost always find her curled up in our bed, snuggling under the blankets, loving on her Daddy. She is talented and loving, and she is trying to find her way here. I believe Hannah will grow into her role here in Russia, and I'm excited to see what that will look like.
And then there's John-John. Our friends Pat and Jane laughed when we found out we were having a boy, because we had no clue how a boy was going to change our lives, and they were right. John-John is much more tender than I knew before we came here. He said something last night that hurt my feelings, and he was crushed. He doesn't like to hurt people, though he loves to terrorize his sisters. And while he can be the most frustrating of my three children, he can also be the funniest and most loving. He has mastered the armpit fart since we've been here, and he has made some of the funniest movies on my iMac that I've ever seen. Even the girls love to watch them and giggle at him. While his hyperactivity can be a challenge in a large city like this, I rarely hear him complain about the cold--this is all a big adventure to him. And while his mommy is sometimes reluctant to speak Russian if it isn't going to be absolutely perfect, John is not concerned with a language barrier. Frankly, he has made contact with more Russians than the rest of us, because he has charmed the entire city of Moscow. Irina is in love with him, pronouncing him a "wonderful boy" on a daily basis. He runs so that she will chase and tickle him. He has charmed the babushkas who sit in the guard booths at the bottom of the metro. He has learned to ride the metro with the best of them, maintaining his balance even while he's being absolutely crushed by all the people. Here is a perfect example of John's magic at work: while we were at the conference center, some teenage boys came in to play ping pong. Of course, they were pretty good at it, and our little boys all wanted to watch. The adults didn't want to watch, because the teenage boys all had terrible, terrible body odor--the kind that knocks you out when you open the door. So we stayed in the conference room and talked and laughed. When I went out to use the restroom, I found that John has talked his way into the game, and one of the teenagers is helping him learn how to hit the ball with the paddle, holding his hand on the paddle and helping him swing. The other teenagers are clapping for him. And to be honest, I felt kind of ashamed. I hadn't wanted to be around them because they smelled so bad, but John-John was right there with them, playing and laughing and talking. He didn't care how they smelled. He was just glad to be with them. It may turn out that John-John is the actual missionary, and Marc and I are just the way he got to Russia.
Well, those are the things I am thankful for about my three arrows. I am getting to know them better each day, and while they aren't perfect, and there are days I'm ready to climb the walls, I am glad for this chance to really get to know them well. It turns out that they are people I like. Now THAT'S something to be thankful about this holiday season! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Are we crossing or using?
But I trust in Your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in Your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, for He has been good to me. Psalm 13:5-6
Sometimes, in the course of just living life, I think it’s hard to see how the LORD has been good to us. We look around us and see problems, but in reality, He has been working in us and around us to make each day possible. Sometimes, it’s a teacher who touches our child in a miraculous way, someone we may have prayed for who suddenly appears. Sometimes, it’s just taking a few days away to thank Him for His creation and for what He’s doing through other people. Sometimes, it’s looking at your children in a brand new light. And sometimes, it’s choosing to feel better even if your emotions don’t always agree. In our case, we have had all of these experiences, and each time it reminds us that the Father up above IS looking down in love, and He’s orchestrating things around us in ways that we cannot even comprehend, but can appreciate if we are purposeful about doing so.
I haven’t written since our retreat, but we had a marvelous time. Clean air and lots of trees (and snow) was exactly what the doctor ordered. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, had some marvelous Bible teaching in English, and laughed a whole lot. We love our team so much, and it was wonderful to have time to spend altogether. Thank you for praying that our time would be valuable—it certainly was.
We have enjoyed our time off of language school this week, but we are looking forward to seeing Irina again on Monday. She spent the week in Kiev with her parents. We only have class Monday-Wednesday, and then we have Thursday and Friday off for Thanksgiving. We are spending Thanksgiving with all of the IMB missionaries in Moscow, who are gathering at the Christian school to eat, play, watch some football, and laugh. It should be a wonderful time. Friday, we will put up our Christmas tree and S.B. and I might do some shopping. Pray that we will be able to find some good prices—everything here is very, very expensive. When we looked into replacing our Xbox with an Xbox 360 from here, it was around $600. That should give you a pretty good idea of what prices are here. Luckily, we were able to have a team bring some in last week when they came from Kentucky, so that helped. However, we’re still looking at the bulk of Christmas being from Moscow (did I mention it is the most expensive city in the world?).
Marc has just come in from a quick trip with the trash (Hannah’s job, but we don’t let her do it at night), and he has pronounced it very, very, very cold outside. I don’t want to hear anymore whining from our Florida friends, by the way. Sixty is not cold. It’s summer. :o)
We had a marvelous, wonderful day today. We went to the Starlite Café, which is an American diner (in an actual dining car) that serves American food at a not too terrible price. It wasn’t Country Cabin, but it was still pretty good. They were very, very excited to have an actual American family, and we were very, very excited to get a pancake with some maple syrup (they don’t have maple syrup here). It was pretty good stuff. We then went to the Russian equivalent of Best Buy and bought coffee filters (I haven’t been able to find them anywhere) and a hair dryer and Bugs Bunny cartoons in Russian. (I know how to say, “That’s all folks” now.) It was a pretty fabulous day. Of course, to end it we got on the wrong bus and spent an hour and a half touring beautiful Moscow. Hmmm…we were just glad to wind up where we could catch a different bus home!
The title of today’s blog is a quote of something Han says every time we go down into the Metro. On big streets with lots of traffic, they have parahautes, which are basically underground crosswalks. When we head to the steps leading down to the Metro, she always asks, “Are we crossing or using?” Now, Marc thinks I have to turn everything into some kind of analogy for Christ and how He’s at work in my life, and I’m sure if I worked hard enough I could make something pretty good out of this one. But I was out for 10 hours with three kids in Europe’s largest city, and I’m pretty worn. I just think it’s kind of cute.
I’ve also come up with another title for my book. If you’ll recall from previous blogs, the first title was Armpit farts at the breakfast table. The new title (also from an experience here in Moscow) is Dinosaurs in the bathtub. Or what about Plastic snakes in the freezer? I’m also considering Go straight to the dumpster and then turn right. Maybe I should make this a matter for an online poll. It makes me giggle just to think about the many odd things that have happened to me here.
Well, it’s late, and I can still hear John-John singing in their bedroom. I should go get them to sleep. I hope you have a wonderful, restful Sabbath. As you’re “freezing” in your sixty degree weather, just remember that the high here tomorrow is 20. Degrees. I’m not even kidding. By the way—another lesson learned: hairspray and a heavy downpour of snow are not a great combination. That’s just a free little tidbit for whoever of you might need to know that. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Sometimes, in the course of just living life, I think it’s hard to see how the LORD has been good to us. We look around us and see problems, but in reality, He has been working in us and around us to make each day possible. Sometimes, it’s a teacher who touches our child in a miraculous way, someone we may have prayed for who suddenly appears. Sometimes, it’s just taking a few days away to thank Him for His creation and for what He’s doing through other people. Sometimes, it’s looking at your children in a brand new light. And sometimes, it’s choosing to feel better even if your emotions don’t always agree. In our case, we have had all of these experiences, and each time it reminds us that the Father up above IS looking down in love, and He’s orchestrating things around us in ways that we cannot even comprehend, but can appreciate if we are purposeful about doing so.
I haven’t written since our retreat, but we had a marvelous time. Clean air and lots of trees (and snow) was exactly what the doctor ordered. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, had some marvelous Bible teaching in English, and laughed a whole lot. We love our team so much, and it was wonderful to have time to spend altogether. Thank you for praying that our time would be valuable—it certainly was.
We have enjoyed our time off of language school this week, but we are looking forward to seeing Irina again on Monday. She spent the week in Kiev with her parents. We only have class Monday-Wednesday, and then we have Thursday and Friday off for Thanksgiving. We are spending Thanksgiving with all of the IMB missionaries in Moscow, who are gathering at the Christian school to eat, play, watch some football, and laugh. It should be a wonderful time. Friday, we will put up our Christmas tree and S.B. and I might do some shopping. Pray that we will be able to find some good prices—everything here is very, very expensive. When we looked into replacing our Xbox with an Xbox 360 from here, it was around $600. That should give you a pretty good idea of what prices are here. Luckily, we were able to have a team bring some in last week when they came from Kentucky, so that helped. However, we’re still looking at the bulk of Christmas being from Moscow (did I mention it is the most expensive city in the world?).
Marc has just come in from a quick trip with the trash (Hannah’s job, but we don’t let her do it at night), and he has pronounced it very, very, very cold outside. I don’t want to hear anymore whining from our Florida friends, by the way. Sixty is not cold. It’s summer. :o)
We had a marvelous, wonderful day today. We went to the Starlite Café, which is an American diner (in an actual dining car) that serves American food at a not too terrible price. It wasn’t Country Cabin, but it was still pretty good. They were very, very excited to have an actual American family, and we were very, very excited to get a pancake with some maple syrup (they don’t have maple syrup here). It was pretty good stuff. We then went to the Russian equivalent of Best Buy and bought coffee filters (I haven’t been able to find them anywhere) and a hair dryer and Bugs Bunny cartoons in Russian. (I know how to say, “That’s all folks” now.) It was a pretty fabulous day. Of course, to end it we got on the wrong bus and spent an hour and a half touring beautiful Moscow. Hmmm…we were just glad to wind up where we could catch a different bus home!
The title of today’s blog is a quote of something Han says every time we go down into the Metro. On big streets with lots of traffic, they have parahautes, which are basically underground crosswalks. When we head to the steps leading down to the Metro, she always asks, “Are we crossing or using?” Now, Marc thinks I have to turn everything into some kind of analogy for Christ and how He’s at work in my life, and I’m sure if I worked hard enough I could make something pretty good out of this one. But I was out for 10 hours with three kids in Europe’s largest city, and I’m pretty worn. I just think it’s kind of cute.
I’ve also come up with another title for my book. If you’ll recall from previous blogs, the first title was Armpit farts at the breakfast table. The new title (also from an experience here in Moscow) is Dinosaurs in the bathtub. Or what about Plastic snakes in the freezer? I’m also considering Go straight to the dumpster and then turn right. Maybe I should make this a matter for an online poll. It makes me giggle just to think about the many odd things that have happened to me here.
Well, it’s late, and I can still hear John-John singing in their bedroom. I should go get them to sleep. I hope you have a wonderful, restful Sabbath. As you’re “freezing” in your sixty degree weather, just remember that the high here tomorrow is 20. Degrees. I’m not even kidding. By the way—another lesson learned: hairspray and a heavy downpour of snow are not a great combination. That’s just a free little tidbit for whoever of you might need to know that. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Sunday, November 11, 2007
More than a conqueror
Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. Romans 8:35, 37
I think I would add to the list above “lack of internet” and “ unhappy children”. What do you think? I’m pretty certain those things would make the list of that which cannot separate us from Christ’s love. Don’t you?
I realize I haven’t written much this week. It has been a long, hard week, though some good things have happened. We found a school for the two younger children with a director who speaks English and is very, very nice. We are hoping this will alleviate some of Hannah’s mourning for her friends. The kids will only be there part of the day, most likely, and then come home and finish school with me. Yesterday, we went to the local Christian international school for a fall festival. The kids all had a great time, and we had the chance (while they ran around like wild banshees) to sit and talk with some folks we don’t know all that well. It was great! In fact, Sarah Beth has been with the family we sat with all day long, and I don’t anticipate seeing her before 6 p.m. This is an answer to prayer—Sarah Beth is an introvert, and we worry about her being alone too much. We are thrilled that she is out and about. We also bought a big bunch of stuff yesterday and today for the cold—snow clothes and snow boots and warm gloves all around. It is swiftly becoming bitterly cold, and our family is just not used to that at all. It helps to have the right equipment for the cold. Basically, our kids have to have ski gear. And we all have fur-lined boots as of today. So, though we dropped a ton of money in the past two days, we are ready for the cold. Or at least we think we’re ready for the cold.
Our internet situation continues to be a source of struggle for us. We paid to have the only internet company that services our building run the internet into our apartment (we had to pay an extra 500 rubles for them to take it past the door), only to discover that it won’t work on Macs. Hmmm…I can only think of how excited and happy we’re going to be when we finally figure out the internet thing here. There has to be a solution, right? We cannot have been put in the only building in Moscow without access to high-speed internet, surely. At least that’s what we’re telling ourselves.
I wish so much that I could tell you that this grand adventure is great fun. I wish I could tell you that I sail through every day, humming a happy tune, praying as I vacuum my floor and conjugate my verbs. I WISH I could tell you that—but the truth is that this adventure is hard. Every single thing we do is hard. Marc left for the little store that’s down the street to pick up a few things—only to find that they were out of everything we needed, so he had to catch a bus to the supermarket—turning a 30 minute trip into an hour-long trip. While Marc and Han were shopping this morning, I plugged the Xbox into the wrong kind of converter and blew it up. We got lost on the way to the clothing store yesterday, and ended up trekking around the wrong way. But there is always some good. Marc didn’t have to wait for the bus either way to the grocery, and it only took an hour instead of an hour and a half. The Xbox can be replaced. We were able to ask for (and understand) directions to the store. There is good when we want to see it. We just have to want to see it.
Tomorrow morning we leave on a three-day retreat with our team. Pray that it will be a refreshing time of learning and singing and worshipping and fellowshipping for us. We love our fellow missionaries here, and we enjoy every second we get to spend together. Pray for our team. This is a hard place. People are not welcoming. (Or as Irina said, “Russians are not glad you’re here.”) Life here does not necessarily get easier and easier as one adjusts to the learning curve. Pray that our time together with our on-field family is productive and restful and important for all of us. Please pray, too, for my sister Kay, who is having surgery tomorrow morning. We are trusting that all will go well and she’ll be home by noon.
This next paragraph is for those of you who are members of our home church. I listened to Alan’s sermon from last week, and it was, as usual, a barn-burner. Let me encourage you to never take for granted your church or her pastor. First Baptist Church of Middleburg is our sending church, and we couldn’t love and respect a place more than we do our beloved church. We have benefited from great programs, great teaching and preaching, wonderful worship, fantastic children’s programs…and an encouragement to seek God’s will for our lives in a way that led us to answer our call to international missions. If I’ve learned nothing else through following that call, I’ve certainly learned to trust God—with our careers, our children, our marriage, and our finances. He is faithful, my friends. I promise you’re not going to give Him more than He will give back to you. I have given Him an awful lot—and it’s pretty paltry in the face of His love for me. Trust Him—even in the midst of a dark, cold winter, I can promise you that you’ll never regret the decision to trust Him. Never.
Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
I think I would add to the list above “lack of internet” and “ unhappy children”. What do you think? I’m pretty certain those things would make the list of that which cannot separate us from Christ’s love. Don’t you?
I realize I haven’t written much this week. It has been a long, hard week, though some good things have happened. We found a school for the two younger children with a director who speaks English and is very, very nice. We are hoping this will alleviate some of Hannah’s mourning for her friends. The kids will only be there part of the day, most likely, and then come home and finish school with me. Yesterday, we went to the local Christian international school for a fall festival. The kids all had a great time, and we had the chance (while they ran around like wild banshees) to sit and talk with some folks we don’t know all that well. It was great! In fact, Sarah Beth has been with the family we sat with all day long, and I don’t anticipate seeing her before 6 p.m. This is an answer to prayer—Sarah Beth is an introvert, and we worry about her being alone too much. We are thrilled that she is out and about. We also bought a big bunch of stuff yesterday and today for the cold—snow clothes and snow boots and warm gloves all around. It is swiftly becoming bitterly cold, and our family is just not used to that at all. It helps to have the right equipment for the cold. Basically, our kids have to have ski gear. And we all have fur-lined boots as of today. So, though we dropped a ton of money in the past two days, we are ready for the cold. Or at least we think we’re ready for the cold.
Our internet situation continues to be a source of struggle for us. We paid to have the only internet company that services our building run the internet into our apartment (we had to pay an extra 500 rubles for them to take it past the door), only to discover that it won’t work on Macs. Hmmm…I can only think of how excited and happy we’re going to be when we finally figure out the internet thing here. There has to be a solution, right? We cannot have been put in the only building in Moscow without access to high-speed internet, surely. At least that’s what we’re telling ourselves.
I wish so much that I could tell you that this grand adventure is great fun. I wish I could tell you that I sail through every day, humming a happy tune, praying as I vacuum my floor and conjugate my verbs. I WISH I could tell you that—but the truth is that this adventure is hard. Every single thing we do is hard. Marc left for the little store that’s down the street to pick up a few things—only to find that they were out of everything we needed, so he had to catch a bus to the supermarket—turning a 30 minute trip into an hour-long trip. While Marc and Han were shopping this morning, I plugged the Xbox into the wrong kind of converter and blew it up. We got lost on the way to the clothing store yesterday, and ended up trekking around the wrong way. But there is always some good. Marc didn’t have to wait for the bus either way to the grocery, and it only took an hour instead of an hour and a half. The Xbox can be replaced. We were able to ask for (and understand) directions to the store. There is good when we want to see it. We just have to want to see it.
Tomorrow morning we leave on a three-day retreat with our team. Pray that it will be a refreshing time of learning and singing and worshipping and fellowshipping for us. We love our fellow missionaries here, and we enjoy every second we get to spend together. Pray for our team. This is a hard place. People are not welcoming. (Or as Irina said, “Russians are not glad you’re here.”) Life here does not necessarily get easier and easier as one adjusts to the learning curve. Pray that our time together with our on-field family is productive and restful and important for all of us. Please pray, too, for my sister Kay, who is having surgery tomorrow morning. We are trusting that all will go well and she’ll be home by noon.
This next paragraph is for those of you who are members of our home church. I listened to Alan’s sermon from last week, and it was, as usual, a barn-burner. Let me encourage you to never take for granted your church or her pastor. First Baptist Church of Middleburg is our sending church, and we couldn’t love and respect a place more than we do our beloved church. We have benefited from great programs, great teaching and preaching, wonderful worship, fantastic children’s programs…and an encouragement to seek God’s will for our lives in a way that led us to answer our call to international missions. If I’ve learned nothing else through following that call, I’ve certainly learned to trust God—with our careers, our children, our marriage, and our finances. He is faithful, my friends. I promise you’re not going to give Him more than He will give back to you. I have given Him an awful lot—and it’s pretty paltry in the face of His love for me. Trust Him—even in the midst of a dark, cold winter, I can promise you that you’ll never regret the decision to trust Him. Never.
Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Monday, November 5, 2007
The cold, the secret, and the book title
But as for me, I will watch expectantly for the LORD; I will wait for the God of my salvation. My God will hear me. Do not rejoice over me, O my enemy. Though I fall I will rise; though I dwell in darkness, the LORD is a light for me. Micah 7: 7-8
As you can well imagine, any mention of light or darkness catches my attention these days. We are definitely dwelling in darkness here, and the LORD is our only light many days. I told my Mom and Dad last night, though, that it’s interesting how my consciousness of the darkness is fading. I don’t gaze out the window longingly, searching for any patch of blue I can find. I don’t expect to find it. When it suddenly appears, I notice it and smile and enjoy, but the darkness itself has ceased to envelop me and squeeze the joy out of my day. That can only be because many of you have prayed for me and that God has listened and answered. Thank you so much. It’s nice to look outside and not feel like crying all the time.
As for the title of this blog…it is soooooo cold! I am going this afternoon to a store to try and buy some things for the kids. Hannah will have to have a new coat—hers is not waterproof (I’ve never bought her a coat before, and I didn’t think to look for that), and it isn’t warm enough to stand up to bitterness of the cold. I can’t imagine how cold it is going to get. The high today is 25, and that is practically spring in comparison to the days ahead. Brrrrr….
Many of you read my title and wondered if there was a dark, scandalous secret to be revealed. Sorry. Nothing dark nor scandalous—just silly and maybe a little embarrassing. One of the things that has really bothered me since leaving home is that I have not sung publicly in months. When that is part of who you are, it’s difficult to leave it behind. And I’m not even talking about doing some kind of big solo. I just mean singing in the choir or even in the congregation. There wasn’t a ton of singing at ILC, and much of what we did was in another language when we worshipped corporately. And here…well, let’s just say it’s hard to sing when the words are written in an alphabet that you can only sound out like a kindergartner. So, on the advice of a friend, I have taken to going into my kitchen, shutting the door, and singing as loudly as I want. I even turn off the lights and gaze at the city as I sing. When my family walks in, it’s a little embarrassing, because I often have a hand raised or am making some kind of gesture, but I’ve decided I don’t care, because it makes me feel better. Last night, I serenaded Moscow with “It is well with my soul,” “Before the throne of God above,” and “Not a god (You are God alone)’, and while I didn’t hear any response from the citizenry, I’m pretty sure I heard the applause of the only audience Who matters. I like to think He’s missed hearing me sing. And who wouldn’t feel better after singing, “Though Satan should taunt me, though trials should come, let this blessed assurance control: that Christ has regarded my helpless estate and has shed His own blood for my soul”? I sure did. It’s good to be able to sing, “It is well with my soul” and mean it.
Irina has decided I must write a book about being a new missionary in Moscow. I have no idea why she has decided this—she told me, but since she mostly refuses to speak English to me, I only caught part of it. But I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided that if I ever decide to write a book about anything, I’m going to title it, Armpit farts at the breakfast table. I’ll let you draw from that title whatever you can about my life here in Moscow.
Well, speaking of the breakfast table, it’s nearly time to get the children up and feed them (and enjoy some glorious armpit farts from the youngest member of the Hooks family), so I’d better run. Thank you for reading this. I have no clue why anyone would want to read the ramblings of my brain, but I appreciate that you do. Continue to pray for us. And today (Tuesday), would you also pray for my nephew, Dan? He has a big day today at his job, and I’d appreciate it if you’d just say a quick prayer for him. He’s a pretty wonderful man, and Marc and I are really proud of the person he’s grown up to be. Thanks for joining us in praying for him. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
As you can well imagine, any mention of light or darkness catches my attention these days. We are definitely dwelling in darkness here, and the LORD is our only light many days. I told my Mom and Dad last night, though, that it’s interesting how my consciousness of the darkness is fading. I don’t gaze out the window longingly, searching for any patch of blue I can find. I don’t expect to find it. When it suddenly appears, I notice it and smile and enjoy, but the darkness itself has ceased to envelop me and squeeze the joy out of my day. That can only be because many of you have prayed for me and that God has listened and answered. Thank you so much. It’s nice to look outside and not feel like crying all the time.
As for the title of this blog…it is soooooo cold! I am going this afternoon to a store to try and buy some things for the kids. Hannah will have to have a new coat—hers is not waterproof (I’ve never bought her a coat before, and I didn’t think to look for that), and it isn’t warm enough to stand up to bitterness of the cold. I can’t imagine how cold it is going to get. The high today is 25, and that is practically spring in comparison to the days ahead. Brrrrr….
Many of you read my title and wondered if there was a dark, scandalous secret to be revealed. Sorry. Nothing dark nor scandalous—just silly and maybe a little embarrassing. One of the things that has really bothered me since leaving home is that I have not sung publicly in months. When that is part of who you are, it’s difficult to leave it behind. And I’m not even talking about doing some kind of big solo. I just mean singing in the choir or even in the congregation. There wasn’t a ton of singing at ILC, and much of what we did was in another language when we worshipped corporately. And here…well, let’s just say it’s hard to sing when the words are written in an alphabet that you can only sound out like a kindergartner. So, on the advice of a friend, I have taken to going into my kitchen, shutting the door, and singing as loudly as I want. I even turn off the lights and gaze at the city as I sing. When my family walks in, it’s a little embarrassing, because I often have a hand raised or am making some kind of gesture, but I’ve decided I don’t care, because it makes me feel better. Last night, I serenaded Moscow with “It is well with my soul,” “Before the throne of God above,” and “Not a god (You are God alone)’, and while I didn’t hear any response from the citizenry, I’m pretty sure I heard the applause of the only audience Who matters. I like to think He’s missed hearing me sing. And who wouldn’t feel better after singing, “Though Satan should taunt me, though trials should come, let this blessed assurance control: that Christ has regarded my helpless estate and has shed His own blood for my soul”? I sure did. It’s good to be able to sing, “It is well with my soul” and mean it.
Irina has decided I must write a book about being a new missionary in Moscow. I have no idea why she has decided this—she told me, but since she mostly refuses to speak English to me, I only caught part of it. But I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided that if I ever decide to write a book about anything, I’m going to title it, Armpit farts at the breakfast table. I’ll let you draw from that title whatever you can about my life here in Moscow.
Well, speaking of the breakfast table, it’s nearly time to get the children up and feed them (and enjoy some glorious armpit farts from the youngest member of the Hooks family), so I’d better run. Thank you for reading this. I have no clue why anyone would want to read the ramblings of my brain, but I appreciate that you do. Continue to pray for us. And today (Tuesday), would you also pray for my nephew, Dan? He has a big day today at his job, and I’d appreciate it if you’d just say a quick prayer for him. He’s a pretty wonderful man, and Marc and I are really proud of the person he’s grown up to be. Thanks for joining us in praying for him. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Saturday, November 3, 2007
я не знаю, но Ты знаешь
"Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." The LORD Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. Psalm 46:10-11
I have learned how to change my keyboard to the Cyrillic alphabet, which keeps me from totally butchering the Russian language by trying to spell it phonetically. Marc uses it all the time, because he types rather than writes his homework. I can print in Cyrillic pretty well, but learning their cursive system has me stymied. I'll get it eventually, I hope--it's really, really beautiful, and I'd like to be able to write notes to people without looking like a five-year-old.
Anyway, the title above sounds like this: Ya nee znayou, no Tee znayesh, and translated into English, it says, "I don't know, but You know." I have decided this is my theme. When the girls and I went to the Central Baptist Church in Moscow yesterday for a women's event, it was the consistent phrase in every prayer--I don't know, but You know. As these beautiful women prayed aloud for their country and their countrymen, sometimes weeping, over and over they said, "I don't know, but You know." I think it touched me not only because I was thrilled to be able to pick up what was being said, but because it speaks to where I am right now in my transition. I don't know why God has brought me someplace that is so hard, but He knows. I don't know why I couldn't be somewhere where the transition would be easier, but He knows. I don't know why I couldn't stay where things were comfortable for me and my family, but He knows. He knows, and He is God, whose ways are unknowable and unsearchable. But someday, He will tell me, and together we will laugh at my incident with the coat tag, at my making chicken wings in the kitchen store, at my inability to pronounce the Russian phrase for "until next week." All of this will make sense to me then, and until then, I'm just choosing to have faith in the One who loves me enough to die for me.
We woke up this morning to a covering of snow on the ground. It really is quite pretty. We have such a pretty view from our kitchen window. The forest has a blanket of white, and the trees are all kinds of different colors--technically, this is still fall, though that seems odd since it's snowing. It is bitterly cold here--the high this week will not reach above freezing. You can imagine that our Florida babies are sure this is as cold as it can possibly get. WRONG! Muscovites think they're having a nice fall. :o) Maybe this is Indian Summer? Oh, well...we knew it was going to be cold.
Well, it is 10:00 in the morning, and only Hannah is up here. We stayed up late watching the new Veggie Tales that my parents sent through a volunteer team coming from Kentucky. We also enjoyed some JIF peanut butter. Really, really good stuff. When we were out yesterday, we noticed that several stores had Christmas decorations out. We saw the most beautiful Christmas ornaments in a kiosk in the mall at our metro, but since they were around $100-$150, I'm pretty sure we won't be purchasing any of those. YIKES! Can you imagine? I'm so glad we brought that kind of stuff with us. I should go make some kind of breakfast for Hannah. I hope you all have a wonderful day wherever you are, and that you continue to believe in the One who knows even when you don't. Blessings!
His,
Kellye
I have learned how to change my keyboard to the Cyrillic alphabet, which keeps me from totally butchering the Russian language by trying to spell it phonetically. Marc uses it all the time, because he types rather than writes his homework. I can print in Cyrillic pretty well, but learning their cursive system has me stymied. I'll get it eventually, I hope--it's really, really beautiful, and I'd like to be able to write notes to people without looking like a five-year-old.
Anyway, the title above sounds like this: Ya nee znayou, no Tee znayesh, and translated into English, it says, "I don't know, but You know." I have decided this is my theme. When the girls and I went to the Central Baptist Church in Moscow yesterday for a women's event, it was the consistent phrase in every prayer--I don't know, but You know. As these beautiful women prayed aloud for their country and their countrymen, sometimes weeping, over and over they said, "I don't know, but You know." I think it touched me not only because I was thrilled to be able to pick up what was being said, but because it speaks to where I am right now in my transition. I don't know why God has brought me someplace that is so hard, but He knows. I don't know why I couldn't be somewhere where the transition would be easier, but He knows. I don't know why I couldn't stay where things were comfortable for me and my family, but He knows. He knows, and He is God, whose ways are unknowable and unsearchable. But someday, He will tell me, and together we will laugh at my incident with the coat tag, at my making chicken wings in the kitchen store, at my inability to pronounce the Russian phrase for "until next week." All of this will make sense to me then, and until then, I'm just choosing to have faith in the One who loves me enough to die for me.
We woke up this morning to a covering of snow on the ground. It really is quite pretty. We have such a pretty view from our kitchen window. The forest has a blanket of white, and the trees are all kinds of different colors--technically, this is still fall, though that seems odd since it's snowing. It is bitterly cold here--the high this week will not reach above freezing. You can imagine that our Florida babies are sure this is as cold as it can possibly get. WRONG! Muscovites think they're having a nice fall. :o) Maybe this is Indian Summer? Oh, well...we knew it was going to be cold.
Well, it is 10:00 in the morning, and only Hannah is up here. We stayed up late watching the new Veggie Tales that my parents sent through a volunteer team coming from Kentucky. We also enjoyed some JIF peanut butter. Really, really good stuff. When we were out yesterday, we noticed that several stores had Christmas decorations out. We saw the most beautiful Christmas ornaments in a kiosk in the mall at our metro, but since they were around $100-$150, I'm pretty sure we won't be purchasing any of those. YIKES! Can you imagine? I'm so glad we brought that kind of stuff with us. I should go make some kind of breakfast for Hannah. I hope you all have a wonderful day wherever you are, and that you continue to believe in the One who knows even when you don't. Blessings!
His,
Kellye
Friday, November 2, 2007
Raising my Ebenezer
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I’ve come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.
“Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing”
Sarah Beth came in the other day and asked, “What’s my Ebenezer? And why am I raising it?” She was listening to Chris Rice’s new hymns album (which is amazing), and she didn’t understand this verse from “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing.” We also have an Ebenezer conference in Prague this time next year which will be for all of the folks in our region who have served their first year of their term. So I looked up the reference, I Samuel 7:12. It turns out that Samuel raised a memorial when the Israelites swept the Philistines from their land, and he called it Ebenezer, which means “Thus far the Lord has helped us.” I have to tell you, at this moment in my life, those kind of stones of remembrance, placed as memorials to the ways in which God has brought us to this place, are beyond important….they are life-saving. Without them, it would be easy to become discouraged and depressed. It is gray. Nothing is easy. It is cold. Our heat remains a difficulty at best. Our noses run all the time. It will not be above freezing in the next week. We miss our family and friends. We do not speak the language well, yet. Did I mention it’s unbelievably cold?
But if those things become the focus, then we are not being faithful to the God who called us, who says, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine!” (Isaiah 43:1) How can we look at the last two years of our lives, when God has moved mountains to bring us to this place, and not know that He is here, just like He was there? How can we look at our team, who we’re crazy about, and not see His hand? How can we look at our beloved Irina, who teaches us Russian and loves all of us, who has become an important part of our family, and not clearly see Him at work? If I pay close attention, everywhere there are His fingerprints. But it is my job to see them, even when I have to search for them. But when I look…He has touched and left His mark all around us. If I look around with eyes of faith, I must proclaim, “O to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be!”
What is all around you that clearly marks your life as His? When you look at your children, your friends, your parents, your spouse…do you see the fingerprints of the One who loves you more than His own life? If you look with the right eyes, I know you can see Him at work. Maybe He’s working through an enjoyable, wonderful, easy time in your life, or maybe like me, He’s working by stretching you beyond what you think is possible. Whatever way He’s at work, enjoy today being marked by His fingerprints. He loves you and thinks you are wonderful…and so do I! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Here by Thy great help I’ve come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.
“Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing”
Sarah Beth came in the other day and asked, “What’s my Ebenezer? And why am I raising it?” She was listening to Chris Rice’s new hymns album (which is amazing), and she didn’t understand this verse from “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing.” We also have an Ebenezer conference in Prague this time next year which will be for all of the folks in our region who have served their first year of their term. So I looked up the reference, I Samuel 7:12. It turns out that Samuel raised a memorial when the Israelites swept the Philistines from their land, and he called it Ebenezer, which means “Thus far the Lord has helped us.” I have to tell you, at this moment in my life, those kind of stones of remembrance, placed as memorials to the ways in which God has brought us to this place, are beyond important….they are life-saving. Without them, it would be easy to become discouraged and depressed. It is gray. Nothing is easy. It is cold. Our heat remains a difficulty at best. Our noses run all the time. It will not be above freezing in the next week. We miss our family and friends. We do not speak the language well, yet. Did I mention it’s unbelievably cold?
But if those things become the focus, then we are not being faithful to the God who called us, who says, “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine!” (Isaiah 43:1) How can we look at the last two years of our lives, when God has moved mountains to bring us to this place, and not know that He is here, just like He was there? How can we look at our team, who we’re crazy about, and not see His hand? How can we look at our beloved Irina, who teaches us Russian and loves all of us, who has become an important part of our family, and not clearly see Him at work? If I pay close attention, everywhere there are His fingerprints. But it is my job to see them, even when I have to search for them. But when I look…He has touched and left His mark all around us. If I look around with eyes of faith, I must proclaim, “O to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be!”
What is all around you that clearly marks your life as His? When you look at your children, your friends, your parents, your spouse…do you see the fingerprints of the One who loves you more than His own life? If you look with the right eyes, I know you can see Him at work. Maybe He’s working through an enjoyable, wonderful, easy time in your life, or maybe like me, He’s working by stretching you beyond what you think is possible. Whatever way He’s at work, enjoy today being marked by His fingerprints. He loves you and thinks you are wonderful…and so do I! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Thursday, November 1, 2007
God, my feet, and Russia
I will rejoice and be glad in Your lovingkindness, because You have seen my affliction; You have known the troubles of my soul, and You have not given me over into the hand of the enemy; You have set my feet in a large place. Psalm 31:7-8
It is 4:30 p.m. here in Moscow, and I am enjoying a fairly quiet afternoon (except for the constant noise of construction outside). Marc is off on an adventure to find reliable internet (again), the kids are playing somewhere in the apartment, and I am snuggled up with the quilt our church gave us and my computer. All in all, not a bad way to spend an afternoon.
I loved these verses when I read them this morning. I love how God’s word works in my life. On dark days here, I have taken great comfort that the God of Everything has seen my affliction, has known the troubles of my soul, but has not given me over to the hand of the enemy. And c’mon—“You have set my feet in a large place” is just funny. Get it? Russia? Biggest country on earth? That’s a pretty large place!
The two little kids and I (that’s what I call John and Han) went on an expedition this morning to find the schools they may possibly attend. We have to find something for them. Locked up in this apartment all day, we are going crazy. It is bad to be isolated. Very, very, very bad to be isolated. So we’re looking to find a place they can be for at least part of the day. We had a lovely time, easily finding the two schools (John will have to attend a dietsky sod—kindergarten—because public school doesn’t begin until age 7). We also found playgrounds near us that we can play on, and we had a lovely time just walking around. True, it was cold and misty and—you guessed it—gray, but the leaves had fallen where we were walking, and it was really beautiful. John remarked that he’d never walked on a yellow ground before. It was just fun. We laughed—throw your head back and cackle kind of laughing. I even engaged two babushki—grandmothers—in conversation…in Russian! (I wanted to remark on how cute their dogs were, but could only come up with “mishka,” the word for bear.) All in all, it was a good start to our day. I had a decent lesson, and felt at the end like I am progressing, though Irina is threatening to call me and make me hold an entire conversation on the telephone, which is very difficult. I’m hoping it’s an empty threat. :o)
Every day here, I learn something new. Sometimes it’s a grammatical structure or a cultural norm, sometimes it’s something about my kids I didn’t know. More often than not, it’s something about myself that I didn’t know. One thing I am learning again and again is that part of this experience is stripping me of the stuff that I have always considered my identity. I am no longer anyone’s “go-to” girl. I do not work outside my home. I do not even sing in the congregation at church, because I cannot read the words in Russian fast enough. If I were to rely on how I feel, these things would be devastating. But if I choose, instead, to rely on who I know I am in God’s eyes, these things are bearable. I may not always love everything about being here, but I can consciously choose to be grateful for the way God is at work. Let me say this loudly, however: THAT IS REALLY A HARD CHOICE TO MAKE! IT IS NOT FOR THE WEAK-HEARTED! I have to choose that position. Consciously and whole-heartedly, I have to make the choice to be content. Or as I told Hannah the other day—I am just going to act better until I feel better in the hopes that acting better will make me feel better.
Have you had that experience? I don’t think this is something just international missionaries have to contend with, is it? Don’t we all have times in our lives when we have to make the conscious choice to be content even if we don’t feel like it? I know that a good part of my adult life has been spent battling with my own tendency to rely on emotions rather than what I know to be true in God’s word. Sometimes, it was choosing to feel better about myself because God said He thought pretty highly of me. Sometimes, it was choosing to humble myself because God said He thought I might think a little too highly of myself in some area. But always, it came down to what I knew versus what I felt. If that’s something you battle with, know that I empathize with that struggle. And on this side of the world, I’m battling right along with you. But every day, I’m trying hard to make the choice to be content—no matter what comes.
Well, Marc is home, dinner needs to be made, and so I must go. There is a great deal of excitement here—Marc found Blockbuster microwave popcorn at the store. It’s funny—we have started to get really excited about some pretty weird stuff. :o) Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
It is 4:30 p.m. here in Moscow, and I am enjoying a fairly quiet afternoon (except for the constant noise of construction outside). Marc is off on an adventure to find reliable internet (again), the kids are playing somewhere in the apartment, and I am snuggled up with the quilt our church gave us and my computer. All in all, not a bad way to spend an afternoon.
I loved these verses when I read them this morning. I love how God’s word works in my life. On dark days here, I have taken great comfort that the God of Everything has seen my affliction, has known the troubles of my soul, but has not given me over to the hand of the enemy. And c’mon—“You have set my feet in a large place” is just funny. Get it? Russia? Biggest country on earth? That’s a pretty large place!
The two little kids and I (that’s what I call John and Han) went on an expedition this morning to find the schools they may possibly attend. We have to find something for them. Locked up in this apartment all day, we are going crazy. It is bad to be isolated. Very, very, very bad to be isolated. So we’re looking to find a place they can be for at least part of the day. We had a lovely time, easily finding the two schools (John will have to attend a dietsky sod—kindergarten—because public school doesn’t begin until age 7). We also found playgrounds near us that we can play on, and we had a lovely time just walking around. True, it was cold and misty and—you guessed it—gray, but the leaves had fallen where we were walking, and it was really beautiful. John remarked that he’d never walked on a yellow ground before. It was just fun. We laughed—throw your head back and cackle kind of laughing. I even engaged two babushki—grandmothers—in conversation…in Russian! (I wanted to remark on how cute their dogs were, but could only come up with “mishka,” the word for bear.) All in all, it was a good start to our day. I had a decent lesson, and felt at the end like I am progressing, though Irina is threatening to call me and make me hold an entire conversation on the telephone, which is very difficult. I’m hoping it’s an empty threat. :o)
Every day here, I learn something new. Sometimes it’s a grammatical structure or a cultural norm, sometimes it’s something about my kids I didn’t know. More often than not, it’s something about myself that I didn’t know. One thing I am learning again and again is that part of this experience is stripping me of the stuff that I have always considered my identity. I am no longer anyone’s “go-to” girl. I do not work outside my home. I do not even sing in the congregation at church, because I cannot read the words in Russian fast enough. If I were to rely on how I feel, these things would be devastating. But if I choose, instead, to rely on who I know I am in God’s eyes, these things are bearable. I may not always love everything about being here, but I can consciously choose to be grateful for the way God is at work. Let me say this loudly, however: THAT IS REALLY A HARD CHOICE TO MAKE! IT IS NOT FOR THE WEAK-HEARTED! I have to choose that position. Consciously and whole-heartedly, I have to make the choice to be content. Or as I told Hannah the other day—I am just going to act better until I feel better in the hopes that acting better will make me feel better.
Have you had that experience? I don’t think this is something just international missionaries have to contend with, is it? Don’t we all have times in our lives when we have to make the conscious choice to be content even if we don’t feel like it? I know that a good part of my adult life has been spent battling with my own tendency to rely on emotions rather than what I know to be true in God’s word. Sometimes, it was choosing to feel better about myself because God said He thought pretty highly of me. Sometimes, it was choosing to humble myself because God said He thought I might think a little too highly of myself in some area. But always, it came down to what I knew versus what I felt. If that’s something you battle with, know that I empathize with that struggle. And on this side of the world, I’m battling right along with you. But every day, I’m trying hard to make the choice to be content—no matter what comes.
Well, Marc is home, dinner needs to be made, and so I must go. There is a great deal of excitement here—Marc found Blockbuster microwave popcorn at the store. It’s funny—we have started to get really excited about some pretty weird stuff. :o) Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
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