Exciting times at the Hooks house

Shout to the north and the south
Sing to the east and the west
Jesus is savior to all
He's the Lord of Heaven and Earth.


I have very, very little time this morning, since I am headed to Hinkson early in order to teach my AP Lit students. We are coming down to the wire--the exam is next Thursday. I hope I have helped them, and I know they have helped me in my adjustment to Russia. It's nice to do something you're successful at when you suddenly talk like a two-year-old.

Anyway, there have been some interesting new developments here at the Hooks house, and I thought you might like to share in our excitement:

• I found sliced turkey at the grocery store. No kidding...sliced turkey. It was yummy, yummy, yummy. (Most of the sliced meat is not identifiable to us, and so we don't eat it. There's a lot of bologna and salami in the kids' diets right now, so turkey was pretty exciting.)
• I have figured out how to make iced tea. That's big.
• Our table broke, but Marc figured out how to fix it. He had his little tools and everything...he's so cute!
• We had Pizza Hut for dinner last night. A huge, once-every-other-month splurge for us, but so delicious.
• We have crystal light in the house--our favorite drink--thanks to my parents and sister.
• We actually went out without coats or even jackets the last two days. Heaven!
• I have decided that my towels are not "crunchy"--Hannah's word--but brisk. Doesn't brisk sound better, even if they do take off the top layer of skin when you use them? Maybe I could market them as some kind of large-scale loufa?

Actually, there's nothing too exciting in any of this. But when you live somewhere that can be so discouraging, when your identity has disappeared seemingly overnight, you take encouragement where you can get it. And though there are plenty of reasons to feel discouraged about life here, if I look hard enough, there are also plenty of reasons to be encouraged by the way God is at work. So I'm choosing this morning to be excited about turkey and tea and pizza hut and no jackets, because each of those things is a little pat on the back from the God who loves me and sent me here in the first place. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you can see Him at work around you, and that your AP students are ready for that exam next week! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye

Surviving our worst fears

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. Psalm 46:1-3

This is going to be pretty short--Marc and I are headed out to a breakfast date this morning, and then I'm going to the world's most notorious prison (well, the metro stop near the world's most notorious prison) to buy some index cards. (The metro stop and prison are Lubyanka...look it up if you don't believe me about its notoriety.) We're looking forward to a cup of coffee and croissant together--thanks to the folks from FBC Allen, Texas, who are providing breakfast through a nice gift certificate they gave us when they were here!

Yesterday was Russian Easter, and because it was Sunday, we were running late. Plus, we had no idea how many people (including lots of police) would be out on the roads, so we were doubly late because of the traffic and lack of busses, etc. Get the idea? We were running late. At the bus stop, we decided we would take a mashrutka, which is a van that functions like a taxi. Thankfully, one showed up pretty quickly, and we piled in and it took off. About fifty feet from the bus stop, I heard Sarah Beth suck in her breath so loudly that I knew something was wrong. When I looked at her, she said, "Where's John?" in English (we try to keep the English to a minimum in public, so I knew something was really wrong when she started talking in English). We looked around, at to our horror discovered that John was not in the mashrutka with us.

When we came to the field, especially because Moscow is a big city with lots of traffic, people, etc., our biggest concern (and the concern of the medical folks at the IMB) was John. Many of you know that John is clinically hyperactive. He is not the kind of kid who you don't know he's hyperactive and you're shocked when his parents tell you. All you have to do to know John is hyperactive is be in the room with him for about two seconds. That's not to say he isn't sweet and wonderful, because he is, but hyperactivity comes with a complete lack of impulse control. Hence the worries about his safety--he doesn't have the thing in his brain that tells the rest of us not to step out into the street because the driver isn't going to stop and the bus will likely hit us. We have worked really hard with John to be able to be here and function, and it's really been a miraculous success. He is quiet in the metro. He stays with me when we walk to school. He notices cross walks and knows that he must wait for someone to cross with him. For the most part, we have been really astonished at how well he's done here. Of course, he also likes to "flolic" on the sidewalks sometimes, but we try to keep that to a minimum.

Along with the lack of impulse control, John's hyperactivity also manifests itself in extreme distractability. He doesn't always notice the people he's about to run into when he's "flolicking." He can miss watching for a bus because he's crouched on his haunches watching his "little guys." (He's the only kid I've ever known who loves ants as much as he does.) And that's what happened yesterday. He was staring at the ants at the bus stop and didn't notice that we were leaving. I thought Marc had him--Marc thought I had him. You get the idea.

When we realized he was not with us, Marc yelled for the driver to stop. (Thank God that the word for stop is stop in Russian.) The van slowed down, but Marc couldn't wait for it to stop and jumped out while it was still moving at a pretty good clip. The driver asked me what had happened, and, in my utter panic, I lost all semblance of knowing the Russian language. I told them that I didn't know how to say it in Russian, but that we had left my son. Luckily, someone knew English and explained what happened. The driver looked horrified. He asked me if I wanted to get off or if he needed to wait. I told him we would get off. Then, feeling like I needed to say something to the horrified passengers we were leaving behind, and lacking any Russian at that particular moment, I said the only thing that came to mind in Russian--the Easter greeting I had been practicing all week for church. So I kind of spat out, "Christos Voskress!" and jumped out of the van, followed by my two horrified girls. I'm sure I startled everyone involved with my sudden testimony to the resurrection of Christ. Not my proudest moment, my friends. Not my proudest moment.

Of course, John was crying, but other than that was fine. The wonderful thing about Russians, and this is one of their most endearing qualities, is that they love children and would never let anything bad happen to a child, so we weren't concerned that someone would take him or hurt him. But it was still pretty scary. It still took my heart a while to slow down. But we survived the thing we feared the most on the field. And all of our lecturing about what to do in that situation--stay where you are, and we'll come back for you--worked, because that's exactly what he did. And my shouted testimony at our fellow passengers provided quite a giggle for the whole family. Even though something bad happened, we survived. And hopefully, this will be enough of a scare (he was alone for about 30 seconds) to make John pay attention to where we are.

Well, I'm off to my breakfast date with the good-looking fella I came here with. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know that you can survive just about anything, and that you have shouted "Christ resurrected!" at a van full of really startled people recently. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Claiming our inheritance

Hannah on the new scooter. Yesterday was so beautiful, she and John went outside with Daddy and played for a while. The scooter is a perfect toy, because unlike most apartments here, there is no park around our building because of construction.
We received a box this week from Mimi and Poppy (my parents). In it was this battery-operated bubble blower for John-John. He really enjoyed it. (And look! Just a windbreaker on at 5 in the afternoon!)
I know you must get tired of the view out my kitchen window, but it was particularly spectacular last night, so I had to share the picture I took of it.

Ask of me, and I will surely give you the nations as your inheritance, and the very ends of the earth as your possession. Psalm 2:8

This is a verse I used to twist to mean something other than what it means here. I used to think this meant that whatever I asked of Him, He would give to me. As I get to know Him better, I see more and more that this verse is all about asking Him for the things that count. I don't know about you, but I have sometimes (often?) not asked Him for the things that matter to Him. I have recently been thinking about this as I have changed some things about my quiet time. Since I have been here, I have asked for peace in our house, happiness for our children, success with the language, friendships that matter. I am not saying that any of those are bad things, and they are certainly things that I think we should desire. More and more, though, especially as I just immerse myself in His word and use it during my time of prayer each morning, I find that the things I ask for and about have less to do with me and more to do with Him. Instead of peace and happiness, I am asking Him to help me learn what He's teaching. Instead of happiness for our children, I am asking Him to fill them with holiness. Instead of success with the language, I am asking Him to teach me and stretch me as I struggle. Instead of friendships, I am asking Him to be my heart's closest friend. Instead of praying for how I feel about this city, I am asking Him, pleading with Him to claim it, every inch, every person, for Himself. I am here to claim the inheritance He has promised. The ends of the earth for me are filled with buses and skyscrapers and millions of people. The ends of the earth for some of my friends around the world are full of rivers and bugs and snakes and tribes that don't know Him. But He has promised, and we are adamant about believing that promise. For what other reason would we leave home and family if not because our great God promised us He would glorify Himself in our presence by claiming the ends of the earth as His own?

Today is Easter in Russia. We are excited to go to church and listen to a traditional Easter sermon. It will look different than America, and we will not hunt eggs or talk about the Easter bunny, but I can guarantee you this--whether it's today or March 23rd, the church of the risen Savior agrees on this...that Christ has regarded our helpless estate and has shed His own blood for our souls. I have practiced the traditional Russian greeting, which is the same basic greeting as in America--He is risen. He is risen indeed. I have a copy of the songs we will sing, thanks to my precious friend, Anya. I may not have new shoes or a new hat, but I think I am ready for Russian Easter.

Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are claiming your inheritance in your neighborhood, your school, your workplace--and that you know the Easter greeting in whatever language you are learning. христос воскрес! воистину воскрес! Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Rice-a-roni, crystal light, and all that jazz

Me: John, why will you speak Russian to Irina and not to me?
John: Because you don't really speak it very good.


Ah, out of the mouths of babes, yes? (Sorry, I've started taking on the Russian construction of putting a yes on the ends of questions.) Today, Irina said to John-John, "джон как тебя зовут?" (Literally, John, what are you called?--the Russian way to ask your name.) John's instant reply was, "меня зовут джон." (I am called John.) Now, how did he learn that? I haven't a clue, because we honestly have spent very little time on the language with him. He just picks things up by hearing them, I guess. Stinker...I have to study and study, and John just gets it by listening. Doesn't seem fair, does it?

We received a box from the States yesterday from my parents, and we have thoroughly enjoyed some treats from the U.S. (By the way, in Russian, it's not the U.S.A., it's the сша--the "s sh a"--they make the sounds of letters rather than naming them.) After English club last night, we made rice-a-roni (a treat for S.B., her favorite dish in the States) and watched the Dove Awards on our slingbox, since we had taped them. We were literally up half the night watching them, finally deciding to finish today. What fun! We are drinking crystal light and eating rice-a-roni and listening to great music and just having a blast together. Finally at midnight, we decided we had better head to bed. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with the kids watching the Doves. (Not John-John, because he's not that interested in any particular kind of music yet.) The girls got to see some of their favorites (Natalie Grant for Han; Rush of Fools and Switchfoot for S.B.), I loved every second of every song, and we had a great time together. One of the great blessings of the slingbox is getting to do fun stuff like that, which is so uplifting to the whole family.

English club went really, really well last night, and I appreciate the prayers of those who covenanted to participate in our ministry in that way. It was a great time, and we were able to introduce some spiritual conversations amidst the explanation of various American traditions and their Russian counterparts. (The eggs in Russia are serious business--they take them to the church for the priest to bless them.) We had a great time, and nobody went running out the door when we talked about "God" stuff. In fact, the first question we took was what kind of church we attended. When we replied, "Protestant," no one looked too upset by that. (We do not generally say "baptist"--communists were extremely threatened by baptists, and portrayed them as a cult where members sacrificed their babies and drank their blood. You can imagine the term baptist can be a little off-putting to some here.) Even better, in our time together after the club was done, we were able to chat and continue to develop the relationships that we are already working on here. We even got an invitation to put together a picnic at the home of some members of the club. THIS IS BIG STUFF!!! Russians are not naturally trusting people. And 75 years of communism certainly didn't make them more trusting. To be invited to someone's home is unbelievable this soon. We are really, really excited about what God is doing.

As we sat around after English club as a family, listening to great performances at the Dove awards and talking our way through all the things that had happened during the day, I couldn't help but think that this is a really interesting season in our lives. I'm certainly not saying our transition here has been easy--it's been anything but. But I'm starting to see God's design in our difficulties. I am a person who, given the slightest chance, would rely on my own abilities and strength to do things. It is not part of my personality to rely on others. But here, much more than in the States, there is little choice but to rely on Him. He's simply taken every other possibility away. I can't rely on my brains--I speak, at best, like a 5-year-old. I can't rely on my family--they're thousands of miles away. I can't rely on my friends--the mission field is extremely fluid, and constant good-byes are a part of life. I can't rely on Marc and the kids--they're in the same difficult process I am. The things I would normally fall back on are not possible here. He is my only refuge. Brother Andrew, the missionary famous for smuggling Bibles into Eastern Europe during the cold war, called it the step of Yes. Not yes, but. Not yes, if. Just yes. I guess in some ways, we took that step when we left everything behind in the States. But I really am starting to realize that every day (hour? minute?) is another opportunity to simply say, "Yes" to Him. Yes to Russia. Yes to sadness. Yes to homesickness. Yes to doing without. Yes to whatever, wherever, whoever, whenever. Just yes. And as we laughed and sang along last night, as we recapped English club and the response to the lesson, as we enjoyed rice-a-roni and crystal light together, I realized that it is also Yes to fun. Yes to adventure. Yes to knowing one another better. Yes to being together. Yes to more of Him and less of me. Yes to contentedness. Yes to peace. Yes.

We have a full weekend. Hannah is at a sleepover tonight. Tomorrow is the spring carnival at Hinkson. Sunday is Easter. Better than all those things--it is supposed to be sunny and 60 degrees. Could anything be better than sunshine and green grass everywhere? Wherever you are in the world, I challenge you today to just say Yes to whatever He has for you, and that you have lots of sunshine (thought not too much, Tara) and green grass to enjoy. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Calling our prayer warriors!

Our cat, ночка, digs the view from our apartment as much as we do. This is one of her favorite spots from which to gaze out at her kingdom.

But now, God's Message, the God who made you in the first place, Jacob; the One who got you started, Israel: "Don't be afraid, I've redeemed you. I've called your name. You're mine. When you're in over your head, I'll be there with you. When you're in rough waters, you will not go down. When you're between a rock and a hard place, it won't be a dead end--Because I am God, your personal God, the Holy of Israel, your Savior. I paid a huge price for you, all of Egypt, with rich Cush and Seba thrown in! That's how much you mean to me! That's how much I love you! I'd sell off the whole world to get you back, trade all the creation just for you." Isaiah 43, The Message

When we were still at FPO, Bobbye Rankin, the wife of the IMB's president, Dr. Jerry Rankin, quoted most of Isaiah 43 to us in one of her talks. Since then, it has been one of my favorite passages, for the same reason it is important to her--it is a reminder that, regardless of our circumstances, no matter where we are in the world, the God of all Creation is with us. We are never forgotten. We are never alone. As we walk through this first term and deal with the every day difficulties of living in a different culture, what comfort and peace it brings to us to remember that not only are we not our own, but that He would trade all of creation just to ransom us. What kind of love is that? My pea-sized brain is not capable of understanding or analyzing it, but my unworthy soul is awfully grateful for it.

Tonight at 7, during English Club, we will have a discussion of Easter, because Orthodox Easter is this Sunday. Easter is a big event for the Russian Orthodox Church, and so this is a perfect, God-ordained opportunity for us to have spiritual conversations with these people we have come to love. We are asking those who are on our prayer team, no matter where you are in the world, to pray in earnest at 7 p.m. our time (we are 8 hours ahead of the East Coast of the States, if that helps) for God to move in a big way. Would you please especially call the names Karoline, Ivan, Anna, and Sasha before the throne, as these are the people we believe are seeking something more than what they know of God. We don't know what will happen tonight, but we know that God listens intently to the prayers of His people and moves His hand on their behalf. Tonight, we are asking that you covenant with us to pray for His presence and movement in our home.

Thank you so much for praying for us and with us. We are excited and honored by what God is doing in our lives here and in the lives of others. Our prayer is that no matter what happens tonight, His name would be glorified. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you have exciting ministry opportunities on your horizon, and that your cat does not like to play "attack the feet" late at night. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Oh, just a little bonus for those of you who follow the John-John Chronicles: We watched the very first episode of "Get Smart" last night as a family, which is in black and white, and John turned to Sarah Beth and asked, "How come it's colorblind?" That kid cracks me up!

Blessed be Your name

Every blessing You pour out I'll turn back to praise. "Blessed be Your Name"

"Mom, you know what I'm going to do when I get home?"
"No, John. What?"
"I'm going to flolick."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm going to flolick. You know, Mom. Like deers do."
"Do you mean 'frolic'?"
"That's what I said. Flolick."
--Conversation with John-John on the way home from P.E. yesterday

This morning, I have exercised, showered, answered some email, spent time with God, made applesauce muffins (which are baking and smell unbelievable) and had my first cup of coffee (I am in the middle of my second). I thought I would take a couple of minutes and write a quick blog to let you know how things are here in Moscow. Because I have had a good morning and been thinking about a lot of ways God is at work here, I thought it might be interesting to look at some things/people I'm really thankful for today. So here goes:

• My husband is number one on any list of blessings. Loving, kind, a heart like His...what is there not to love about this guy? (He also takes care of expense reports and paying bills...things I do not want to do.) Talented, smart, funny...proof on a daily basis that a loving God is nuts about me. You know all those "submission" sermons that make women nutso and defensive? Not an issue in my house. Know why? Marc embodies being a servant leader. I keep thinking I can't love him any more than I already do...and he just keeps getting better and better and proving me wrong.
• I have the most incredible family on earth. You think it's yours, but you don't know mine. Unbelievably supportive, encouraging, funny...I'm completely in love with them. My mom was bald from chemo when we announced we were moving halfway around the world. Did my parents for one moment complain or feel sorry for themselves? Nope. They realized that this call to missions is fruit laid at the feet of their lives, lives lived for a big, giant God. You know what my sisters said when I made the big announcement? "It's about time." They have embraced our call like it's their own. And it is.
  
• My kids are turning into people I like. Who knew that could happen?
• I have made some friends here on the field. It's hard--a giant city with millions of people and children to raise does not make for lots of free time spent with friends. But little by little, God is faithful to grant me moments to spend with people I really care about.
• I have an unbelievable friend in Brazil. I have great friends in the Czech Republic, Poland, Hungary, and Greece. These are people who love me and support me and encourage me. I hope in some small way that I do the same for them.
  
• I work for a great company. The IMB could not be better to us. Honestly. There are some policies that I don't necessarily agree with, but I am so confident in the leadership of the IMB that those things are small and don't really mean much. Southern Baptists do a good job of taking care of us. As the cost of living rises in Russia (and elsewhere), we are so thankful for an organization that takes care of our needs and doesn't force us to raise money on our own.
• The leadership on the Russia field (and for all of CEE) is made up of godly, wonderful men. If you could listen to them speak, you would walk away glad you had been in the room. They aren't perfect, but they are honestly listening and doing what God tells them. I am confident in their leadership.
• Prayer partners and partner churches are incredibly faithful to pray for us and keep others updated on what's happening here on the field.
• Our language teacher is wonderful.
• The sun is shining. (literally)
• God is at work in our English club.
• God is here with us. Daily, He shows up in ways we could not have imagined or predicted.
  

That's a lot to be thankful for, and that isn't even half the list of things I could list. Unbelievable the way God is blessing us here. If you look around, I bet your list could go on forever, too. My prayer is that wherever you are in the world, your list of thanksgiving is ten feet long, and that you have some time to "flolick" today. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Celebrating the Passover Lamb

One of our friends here in Moscow works with Jews and held a Passover Seder yesterday.
These boys were precious, and helped me set the tables up for the Seder.
The ending blessing. This man works with Jews for Jesus here in Moscow, a group our company partners with here.

He who offers a sacrifice of thanksgiving honors Me, and to him who orders his way aright, I shall show the salvation of God. Psalm 50:23

следующая году в иерусалиме! (Sleydooyoushaya godoo v eeyeroosaleemye or Next year in Jerusalem!)

Yesterday was a full day of ministry. Our team that works with the Jews of Moscow held a Passover Seder at Hinkson Christian Academy, and we helped. Marc, of course, did video and took pictures, and Hannah and I helped with serving food, setting tables, etc. (John and S.B. stayed home, since we knew it was going to be a long day...we left at 2p.m. and returned home around 10:30.) By the time it was over, not only had we really enjoyed ourselves, but at least two people made decisions to follow Christ, something we have not been a part of since coming to Russia. I don't mind telling you, it was worth every minute spent on our feet yesterday to see a group in which there is some movement toward Christ. Very, very uplifting and fun.

The night before, Marc went to a country bar with Alexey, a friend he has made through our English club. Alexey is a music student now, but he was a mig pilot for the Russian Air Force. He plays in a jazz/blues band, and when he found out Marc loved country music, he invited Marc to go with him on Friday to hear a friend's band sing. Marc said they were really, really good, and that it sort of made him homesick. Maybe you're wondering what a Southern Baptist missionary is doing at a bar. Well, it turns out that the lost in Moscow are no different than the lost in the U.S.--they're not exactly beating down the doors of churches asking to be saved. It is the vision of our team to go where they are, develop relationships, and then lead them to Christ. Our team leader's doctoral proposal deals with this idea--creating missional space. Now, Marc didn't drink anything heavier than a Pepsi (he said the bartender looked at him like he was nuts, and actually had to dust the Pepsi off before giving it to him!), and he is always careful not to even give the appearance of doing anything that might be misconstrued by others as sinful. But how much more do you think Russians notice him NOT drinking in a bar than at home? One of Alexey's friends commented that she really admired Marc for not drinking, saying that she knew that was so much better. This is how spiritual things happen on this field. I'm not saying it's how it happens everywhere, but it's how these things happen here.

In a week of discouragement--struggles with depression/homesickness, a discovery of expensive things being stolen from us, more and more people leaving the field, etc.--what a gift from God that we had such great ministry experiences, too. It is so much fun to do ministry, and we are so grateful for every opportunity. On another note--we are Russian'ed out! We have done nothing all weekend but speak Russian, and our tongues are numb!!! We are enjoying a quiet house this morning, and some time to unwind and refresh...and speak English! Wherever you are in the world, my prayer is that you see how God is renewing you in the midst of stormy weather, and that you have a whole day where you speak nothing but English! Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Hmmm...an interesting week

Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me.
When the world's all as it should be,
Blessed be Your name.

Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering.
Though there's pain in the offering,
Blessed be Your name.

Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise.
When the darkness closes in, Lord,
Still I will say,
Blessed be the name of the Lord.

Sometimes you don't hear much from me because we're incredibly busy and I just don't have time to really sit and gather my thoughts together. Sometimes you don't hear from me because the blogs I sit and write have to be deleted because they aren't edifying to anyone, including me. This past week, the silence was due to the latter. It was a pretty dark week here, in more ways than one.

Problem #1: The weather turned dark and cold and rainy this week, which is what it should be in April. Last week's weather, which was sunshine and sixty degrees, was an anomaly. I am astonished at the impact the weather has on how I see the world. It made the beginning of our time here very difficult, and it snuck up on me again this week. Without my paying attention to it, my mood was gravely affected by the gray skies and rain/snow. (Yep...it snowed on me yesterday as I went to school.)

Problem #2: In the last six weeks, I have had no time alone. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Being with my family all day, every day is more than this introvert can handle. This is my own fault, by the way, for not making time to do things by myself. I went to school yesterday without the kids, and it was amazing to me what a difference those minutes by myself made in how I felt.

Problem #3: I'm lonely. I love the people in the Moscow mission, but it's a huge city, and everyone's busy. I found out on Saturday that another family we love is headed back to the states. I feel very isolated sometimes. And my best friend lives in Brazil, which might as well be the moon. We are in contact all the time, but it's not the same as sitting together in class at FPO.

Problem #4: We've discovered that someone we were trying to develop a relationship with is stealing from us. That's discouraging, to say the least.

So how is this edifying? Why publish this blog and not the others I've written this week? Because in all of these things, I can honestly tell you that He is still God. He provides what we need, when we need it. Trying circumstances existed at home in Florida. He was God there. No mission field on earth is easy. He's still God here. Every Thursday night, we get closer and closer to the people who come to English club. They are a part of our lives now, and we are a part of theirs. Next week is Eastern Orthodox Easter, and we are going to have the opportunity to discuss what Easter means through the discussion of culture and tradition. Marc is going tonight with one of the guys--a former mig pilot for the Russian Air Force--to hear a country music singer. God's at work, even when we are discouraged. God's at work on bright and shiny days, and He's still at work on dark days. And I can get through the dark days because I know whom I have believed. He is trustworthy and faithful. And while I spend much of my time on this blog telling you the positive things going on, I think it's edifying to the body to know that even when not-so-great days come on the mission field, He's still worthy of my praise, my life, my everything.

It's almost time for language, so I'll run. Wherever you are in the world today, I pray that you know the God of Everything and His faithfulness, and that you understand how to use prepositions in whatever language you are studying. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

The first six months: pt. 2

O LORD, open my lips, that my mouth may declare Your praise. For you do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it; You are not pleased with burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise. Psalm 51: 15-17

In part one of this series of posts, I talked about the music that has kept me going during these past six months. Today, I want to tell you some of the lessons I've learned in these six months.

Lesson 1: I do not have to be happy to be content.

• Yep, it's true. Not every second on the field has been a barrel of laughs. Yesterday, I had to get the children off the metro and wait for the next train because a drunk was throwing up right next to us. Not a fun time. I have to walk a mile to get anywhere. Not always fun, though the weather is helping that some right now. But when I get up in the morning, I make a conscious choice whether or not I'm going to be content. While I don't always succeed in making the right choice, more and more I find that choice to be content less difficult to make.

Lesson 2: Truth is truth, no matter how I feel.

• God is God. Whether or not I like the way Russians act or how expensive it is to live here makes not a hill of beans worth of difference. He is God. He commanded me to be here. What He says is truth. What I feel...not always truth. Sometimes I feel like being grumpy and complaining. Sometimes I feel like gossiping. Sometimes I feel like going home. None of those things are what God says is His plan for me. Some days, I feel alone. Not true. He says I am never alone. The trick is choosing (do you see that word coming up again and again?) whether or not to act upon what I know is truth or allow myself to "waller" (that's one of my Granny's words, and it just fits the sentence) in my own slop of self-pity and drama.
  

Lesson 3: All things are relative

• What is pretty has changed for me. I love the countryside and trees and birds chirping, but the sight of the sunrise shining on the buildings outside my kitchen window is spectacular. I've come to think that the smokestacks pouring smoke (I'm praying it's just smoke) from the factories make the sunset so much lovelier. And I can guarantee you this--we have never appreciated the beauty of green grass like we do right now. John-John stopped me three times on the way to school yesterday to look at the places where there was grass growing. "Isn't it just beautiful, Mommy?" Yep, John-John...God's an artist.
  

Lesson 4: Home is where Marc and the kids are

• The first time I thought of Moscow as home, I was completely startled. When did this become home? The second my children and husband arrived here with me. And while I live in a high-rise, communist-style apartment building, I think my apartment is beautiful. I enjoy my home. I am falling in love with the city, and I NEVER thought I could say that. But part of that is that this is where we are. This is where God has placed us. It's home.

Lesson 5: My kids are amazing, unbelievable people

• One of the grand blessings of missionary life is the chance to know your family in a different way. Sarah Beth is turning into the best person I know. I can tell you this--she's much more mature than I was at 16. Hannah has struggled to be here, but she is starting to settle into this life and learn to love it. She sat at the table with the Russians who come to English Club last night, laughing and giggling and telling them stories. John-John is a wild man, but he has the sweetest, most tender heart of any little boy I have ever known. All Russians love him. One of our English students kissed him last night and said to me, "I just love to listen to his sweet voice." Our English students, those people who show up every Thursday night at our house, appreciate our children. And I'm so proud to say that my kids are unbelievable missionaries. My children will likely always be a little different, because they will have lived between two cultures. But I can honestly say this--the difference is all positive. I'm so thrilled with the people they are turning out to be.

Lesson 6: Things are nice, but not really important

• We do not have a car. We walk and take public transportation everywhere. It's not always convenient, but it's amazing to me how not having a car has become just a normal facet of our lives. There are things in my in-laws' spare room that I would love to have--precious things they've allowed us to store there. But my life isn't really affected by not having them. I never find myself saying, "I cannot live without __________." You know why? There isn't really anything I can't live without.
  

Lesson 7: It's all about relationships

• I had the privilege of proofreading my team leader's doctoral proposal the last couple of days. What a fabulous read. One of my favorite things in it was a quote from a source who wrote, "Jesus moved into the neighborhood." As I sat looking at the precious people who came last night to English club, as we talked and laughed, as Marc told me that he walked to the bus stop with them and got the Russian goodbye (a hug and kiss on each cheek) from those he walked with...all I could think was that Jesus has moved into this neighborhood. That's what we're here for--to be an incarnation of who He is to these people who do not know Him. I have not given my testimony to them. I have not read them the Romans Road. And please know that I am not, in any way, saying those things are bad or wrong. But they are not appropriate ways to introduce people to Christ here. But having Russians into my home, showing up where our target group works and studies, developing friendships...these are appropriate ways to introduce them to Christ. Every week, our students bring snacks to English club. One of them pulled me aside last night and said, "The rolls I brought are called 'Happy Family'--I bought them because they reminded me of you and Marc and the kids." You know what? Jesus has moved into her neighborhood, and I'm just glad He let us be along for the ride.

Lesson 8: I am not always the smartest person in the room, and that's okay

• This pains me. Honestly, it kills me. Marc speaks better Russian than I do. While I read and write really well, I understand badly, and I speak okay. Marc speaks REALLY well. Our Russian friends always comment on it, and so does our teacher, Irina. Our English club is composed of linguists, economists, lawyers, musicians, former mig pilots for the Russian Air Force, and (I'm not kidding) a rocket scientist. I am definitely not the smartest person in that room. But it's okay. I have things to offer that not everyone does. I am really good at the things I'm good at, and I have to accept myself and appreciate the ways in which God has gifted me. But that feeling of intellectual superiority...yeah, that flew out the door about the time I figured out I couldn't buy meat because I didn't know the word for it.
  

Lesson 9: There's really very little to which we cannot adjust

• It will be weird to see English everywhere. It will be weirder to hear English everywhere. Things that no longer seem weird to me at all: grinding powdered sugar in a food processor to make icing, seeing smoke coming out of the forest behind me, hearing Russian all the time, thinking in Russian, losing English words, walking everywhere, milk in a box with a two-year shelf life, having to look up words for basic things, sounding out things like a kindergartner, having no personal space in public places AT ALL, not talking on the metro, how quiet the city really is, making hideous mistakes in language--I said Hannah was "adeenakiva" yesterday (same) instead of "adeenadset" (11)...you get the idea. Life is life. You adjust to the place you are. I marveled at FPO about people being called to a different region of the world when they'd already served in one place. Nah...I wouldn't want to go back to language school, but I could adjust to just about anywhere. (I'm just praying it's the South of Spain I'm adjusting to, Tara!)

Lesson 10: I just want to be where He is

• I miss my family back home. It's no secret that I am incredibly close to my parents, my aunt and uncle, and my sisters. I love them and long for them. But I wouldn't trade being smack dab in the center of His will for me with being back in the States. I miss my church, I miss singing every Sunday morning and night, I miss my pastor's sermons (though podcasts certainly help)...but I wouldn't leave Moscow to have those things if it meant leaving His best for me. Wherever He wants me, wherever He's at work, wherever His absolute best for my life is, no matter how lonely or hard or frustrating that place is...I want to be there. For right now, that place is Moscow, Russia. And I'm blessed and honored by the way He is at work in our lives here, and by the way He is allowing us to work for Him. I have had a wonderful life thus far, but being here, seeing Him at work, is the most unbelievable, amazing thing I've ever done. I would not have missed this for the world.

That's a lot of learning. Put that together with language learning and home school mom learning, and I think you can imagine that many days, I'm just glad I still know how to spell my name (in English and Russian!). Wherever you are in the world, I challenge you to sit down today and look at what God has taught you in the last six months. And I pray that you are ready for the slumber party at your house tonight! Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Happy Birthday, Hannah!

Hannah on the train to Kiev, doing her favorite thing--drawing. She is one creative girl.
Hannah with the sign Sarah Beth made for her. Hannah loves her sister very much.
Hannah's gift from Sarah Beth--a doll bed from IKEA. Sarah Beth made the one-hour trek there, bought it, and carried it back just to see the look on Hannah's face. I think it was worth it.

Apples, oranges, my banana. Stand up and yell if you love Hannah. Yea! (This is the silly little song Hannah and her Daddy have sung since she was a baby. Even though she's nearly taller than we are now, they still sing it together, complete with Marc holding her arms up and shaking her hands around on the Yea!)

I don't have much time this morning--I'm teaching an AP class on Tuesdays and Thursdays at Hinkson Christian Academy, and it takes an hour to get there, so we have to head out pretty early. However, I couldn't let today go buy without mentioning that it is the birthday of my precious Hannah Jane. There is a birthday party tomorrow night involving several little girls, Hannah Montana, and lots of food and giggling. There are pumpkin muffins for breakfast and some presents to open this morning. She's pretty excited about her birthday.

I wanted to take just a minute and tell you some great things about Hannah. She is a loyal friend--she prays every night for her friends who serve on the mission field with their families. She has also had the same best friend since she was four, and she and Kelly love each other very, very much. She is very close to my parents and my aunt and uncle and her aunts. She loves animals, especially cats. She has developed a love for the Andy Griffith Show since she lived here. She loves God, and she's been a faithful Christian for a couple of years now. She's tall and beautiful inside and out.

Hannah has had a hard time adjusting to life on the field. We are praying especially for friendships right now. There are families "in the pipeline" for the Russia field, and we're praying that they have somebody just right for Hannah. She has been blessed to have friends here who she loves very much, but some of them are moving away at the end of the school year. That will be another hard time of adjustment for her. Would you pray today for my precious girl? We are so proud of the kind of person she is turning out to be. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that someone you love is turning out really well, too, and that you do not have to put your powdered sugar in a food processor before you try to make icing. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

The first six months: pt. 1

One of my favorite pics of SB. She's a goofy nut most of the time, and a blessing to us all the time.
Me and my boys. We should have named John-John "Mini-Marc." They fill my life with lots of laughter.
One of my all-time favorite pictures of us. When did Hannah get to be so gorgeous? She's about two inches taller now than she was in this picture. Yikes!!!

As of this week, we have been on the field for six months. I thought it might be interesting to take a look backward at the time we've been here and share some things that have helped us get through the rough patches.

One of those things, for me at least, is music. So I thought for today's blog, I'd share some of the music that has been especially meaningful to me in these past six months. So here's the list (I've listed the people who sing the song I'm listening to, so that you can find a copy if you'd like):

You are my hiding place.
You always fill my heart with songs of deliverance.
Whenever I am afraid, I will trust in You.
(Hiding Place, Selah)

• This song is based on Psalm 32:7, and it's always been meaningful to me, but even more so here. When we first got here, and I looked out the window every morning at this big, gigantic city, I felt nothing but overwhelmed. I would just whisper the words to this song again and again, reminding myself that no matter where I am, He alone is my hiding place. (So there was no need to lock myself in my apartment and sit in the fetal position, even on days when that seemed clearly to be the best course of action.)

I hear the music and I try to sing along.
You are the author and the orchestra of every single song.
You are forever.
(You are forever, Travis Cottrell)

• One of the most difficult things for me is that I no longer sing. Of course, there's my kitchen and the shower, both venues in which I'm in high demand, but I very often get through an entire church service without opening my mouth to sing a song. If the songs are traditional Russian hymns, I simply can't read fast enough while trying to keep up with the melody, which I don't know. Of course, I never sing in public here. It hurts. It cuts deep into the core of who I am not to sing. And I believe this is only temporary. When I am proficient enough in the language, I fully intend to find a choir to sing in from time to time. But for now, one of the things God has taught and is teaching me is that the real song, the one He cares about most, is the song I sing with my life. He has shown me that even here (maybe especially here?), there is music everywhere I look. I just have to hear the song He's playing for me.

You are God alone
From before time began
You were on Your throne
You were God alone.
And right now,
in the good times and bad,
You are on Your throne.
You are God alone.
You're unchangeable.
You're unshakable.
You're unstoppable.
(Not a god (God alone), Billy and Cindy Foote)

• One of my all-time favorite songs to listen to and to sing, this song has gotten me through plenty of days when I wanted to question what in the world God was thinking bringing us here. Doesn't everyone need a reminder from time to time that no matter what is going on, He is the only God there is? There is none like Him. He cannot be stopped, shaken, or changed. The demons hear His name and tremble. What is there to fear if He is on His throne?
  

When peace like a river attendeth my way,
when sorrows like sea billows roll,
whatever my lot, You have taught me to say,
"It is well, it is well with my soul."
(It is well with my soul, Chris Rice)

• Many, many nights I have turned off the lights in my kitchen, stood at the window looking out on the city, and whispered the words to this song. Even when I didn't feel like it was well with my soul, I knew that God could hear my heart and knew that I longed for His peace. And you know what? My cup runs over. It turns out that if we just white knuckle it through hard times, holding on to what God has told us is absolute truth, His peace attends our way. What kind of love is this? I can't explain it, but oh, my friends, I am grateful it is mine.

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, Chris Rice)

• And so here we are, six months into our first term. We have survived a Russian winter, terrible flu, language training (at least we've survived it until now--I'm making no promises about verbs of motion), loneliness, homesickness, Christmas, Easter, birthdays (except Hannah's, which is tomorrow), homeschool, and a host of other things that would take too long to mention. And what we've found is this truth: He is enough. He is home. He is friendship. He is more than we could ever know or need. He is enough. I'm raising my Ebenezer, and I'm planting it on that truth. He has brought us here. The better news is that He came with us, and that we are never alone. I think that's a pretty firm foundation, don't you?

So how about you? What things has God taught you in the last six months? Think about it, because that's where I'm headed next. I hope wherever you are in the world, you are resting in the truth of who He is, and drinking a Sonic diet coke for me (and crunching the ice). Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Conviction, confession--and a guinea pig allergy

So Israel set out with all that he had, and came to Beersheba, and offered sacrifices to the God of his father Isaac. God spoke to Israel in visions of the night and said, "Jacob, Jacob." And he said, "Here I am." He said, "I am God, the God of your father; do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for I will make you a great nation there. I will go down with you to Egypt, and I will also surely bring you up again; and Joseph will close your eyes." Genesis 46:1-4

This was not a very good weekend in many, many ways. First of all, Marc and I are once again struggling with head colds/sinus infections (and maybe an allergy to the guinea pig we're babysitting?), which is just annoying (the colds, not the pig--it pretty much just stares at us and eats). It was a gorgeous weekend, with temperatures in the 60s, and we couldn't even get out in it because we were so miserable. So that was stinky. Staying in the apartment makes the whole family grouchy (we can't just send our kids outside to play like we would at home), so that was stinky. And I have a list of grievances about life on the field, things that seem unfair to me. I mean, we've given up our whole lives to be here, right? So why are my two closest friends thousands of miles away? (One in Prague and one in Brazil) I spent time on the phone with my friend in Brazil yesterday, and we both complained about the frustrations of the field (which is healthy--you need somebody to vent with, or the frustration is explosive) and the things that just drive us crazy. Then Marc and I had a long conversation in the kitchen about next term--six months in, and we're thinking of the ways to get out of Russia but not have to learn another language. There are Russian speakers in lots of places, right?

At 7, we tuned in to our Sunday night church, which we watch live on the Internet. Since our church in Florida doesn't do that, we watch Southern Hills Baptist Church in OKC. We love their pastor, the music, everything...it renews our soul each week to listen to a sermon in English. (Our church time in our church here is generally taken up with trying to figure out which book of the Bible the sermon is from.) This week, he continued a series on the life of Joseph, but this week's focus was Jacob, and the text was the verses above. The sermon was entitled (and I'm not even kidding), "When you're facing a life-changing move." I'm serious. When he started, Marc and I looked across the room at one another and started laughing. It went downhill from there. It was literally like the pastor had been listening to us all weekend. By the end of the sermon, we were laughing/crying, and praying for forgiveness. I had to spend some substantial time this morning with the Father, making a list of the ways in which my attitude has been, well...stinky.

So why do I tell you this? After all, it would be much better for my ego and pride if you thought I never struggled with anything here. But when I started this blog, my whole purpose was to share our path to missions and our life as missionaries. I want you to be encouraged. I want you to think I'm a good person and a good missionary. I want you to feel good about your Cooperative Program dollars supporting us here (if you're Southern Baptist, of course). But I also want to be honest and transparent. Life here in Russia (like any mission field) is hard. They do not easily accept outsiders. The people can be very hard to love. The weather stinks much of the time. I have friends on the field, a couple I would even call close, but my very best friend, the one I share everything with, is in Brazil, and I miss her terribly. I would love to think that someday our families will serve close to one another, but that is likely never to happen. They are called to South America. We are called to Eastern Europe. It's hard. Life here can be very lonely.

I guess the good news in all of this is that with all of that said, God still has a plan and a purpose. I'm sure years from now I will look back on this first year on the field and laugh at some of the things I got upset over, things that don't really matter much at all in the end. I'm sure I will be grateful that God gave me someone to be close to, even if she is in Brazil. But I know this for sure--when I look back on this first year on the field, I will definitely be able to give testimony to the ways, big and small, God was at work in my life amidst the trials and loneliness. Until then, I'm going to trust that He knows what He's doing, He has a plan, and that I'm a part of that plan. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know that you are a part of His plan, too, and that the guinea pig you're babysitting isn't making you sneeze. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Three and a half hours of ironing would make anybody touchy

No particular reason--I just thought this was a pretty picture from my kitchen window. When I become discouraged, I look out this window at my city, and I pray for the millions of people here who do not know Christ.

O taste and see that the LORD is good; how blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him! Psalm 34:8

I would love to tell you that every day I get up, I praise God for my day, I whip up a gourmet breakfast, and I speak fluently in the Russian language. However, that would be lying, and since I'm a missionary, that definitely breaks several rules in my contract. There are simply days I don't want to be here. Nothing is terribly wrong, nothing is happening that makes me not want to be here, and I'm not necessarily longing for the States. I just don't want to be here. Yesterday was that kind of day.

It began at the ironing board. My dryer is broken, my landlady is impossible to get ahold of, and everything in my house has to be dried on the drying rack. Because of that, everything in my house--including sheets and towels and wash cloths--has to be ironed. I'm sure the stiffness has to do with the heat in our apartment, but there isn't anything that can be done about it. I try to iron in the mornings so it's done and I don't have to think about it the rest of the day. So yesterday, I spent three and a half hours ironing underwear and t-shirts and jeans and wash cloths. By hour 2, I was not a happy camper. Why can't I live in a place where the dryer isn't broken and the landlady isn't impossible to contact? Why? You see how this went.

So I decided to take the girls to IKEA and the mall to have lunch. It's spring break, and we just wanted to have some fun. When I went to McDonald's to get ice cream sundaes, which I've ordered many times here, I knew exactly what to say: "Morojhanoye c chokolad, pajalcta." (That is the worst russian-english transliteration ever. Sorry.) The girl at McDonald's smirked at me and got the menu so I could point. She knew what I was ordering. She knew exactly what I was ordering. She just wanted to make me feel stupid. (Her manager did give her a look when she saw what was happening, which made me feel better.) When we went to Ashan, a lady hit me with her cart in order to make me move. That's rude in any language, and I was pretty ticked. Then we got on the marshrutka to go back home (which is a van that acts like a taxi), we got behind two giggling, snotty teenagers who looked us up and down and then proceeded to talk about us because they thought we couldn't understand. (In all fairness, I only understood some of what they were saying back and forth. They didn't like my hair or my coat, and they were sure we were foreigners. They pegged that one.) So you can imagine that by the time we arrived home (it takes us an hour to get to and from the mall because we are taking public transportation, though the mall is actually only about 10 minutes from my house), I was not having a good "I love being in Russia" attitude.

To top everything off, it was Thursday, which means English Club. Now, I love English Club so much, because it's something I can do. I am the English teacher. I am the one with something to offer at English Club, so it's a little boost for me each week. Plus, it makes us feel like we're doing something that's strategic, instead of just living and learning Russian. (Those are strategic, too, but not as fun as English Club.) But I would have rather cut my left arm off than taught English Club last night. When the doorbell rang the first time, and four people came in, I actually sort of hoped that would be it. Four people isn't hard. Four people isn't too much work. Then the doorbell rang again...and again...and again. By the end of the first 15 minutes, we had 13 people in English Club. It was amazing. We had a great, wonderful night, and we spent 30 minutes at the end, sitting around, drinking tea and eating the goodies everyone had brought, and just talking. It was like someone flipped a switch, and we went from being people who offered a service--learning English--to people with whom relationships were developing. One couple has a seven-year-old boy, and they want to get him together with John-John. Some of the guys want to take Marc to listen to someone who sings American Country music here in Moscow. Everyone was excited about next week. Did we get to share the gospel? No. It takes time here to develop relationships and "earn" that right. Russia is a hard, hard place, and the people are wary of outsiders. But I did get to share that we prayed about the chance to come here, and that we felt God had led us here. And nobody was repulsed or angry. So we're making steps. They might seem like baby steps if you don't live here, but to anyone who has lived and served in Eastern Europe, particularly in the large cities, they are amazing, miraculous, God-inspired steps.

Our team leader is working on his doctorate, and he has a really great presentation on "missional space"--the places we create by making relationships with people. Last night, we knew that we had created missional space, a place where God was already at work in ways we couldn't have even imagined. The folks at our English Club are not going to darken the door of an evangelical church, especially a Baptist one (communists taught people that Baptists sacrificed their babies...a big no-no in any culture). But they will come to our house, develop relationships with us, go to the club, go to have coffee, and then we have earned the place in their lives where there can be spiritual conversations. Missions looks different here. It is slow and frustrating, and the results take a long time to see. But last night, we got a glimpse of what God is doing. We got a refresher course in why we are here. And interestingly, the city looks different to me this morning.

Do you see how God has worked? I have been an English teacher my entire adult life. And just at the moment when I feel like throwing in the towel and going anywhere but Russia, God uses that gift to forward His agenda here. He has known my whole life that at this time, and in this place, I would need to teach English. And here I am. Teaching, which is nearly genetic in my family, is God's way of pushing forward His work in Russia. Did He plan this when my grandfather became a teacher? My grandmother? My aunt? My uncle? Did He know when my mother and aunts and sister went to work in school systems that a love for education was going to be important when I was forty and serving on the mission field? I believe with every inch of my soul that He knew. I believe this was His plan all along. And I believe that because I have studied the Bible and seen again and again that He is all-knowing and all-powerful. When I think about the years that He has worked in my life to bring me here...it makes the lady hitting me with her cart not seem so important.

What about you? How has God worked in your life for such a time as this? Where do you see Him in your family history? Because if you look closely enough, I'm pretty sure He's been at work in your life just like He's been at work in mine. I know this--the knowledge of His plan for you, even little bits of knowledge at a time, can work amazing miracles in even the hardest of hearts. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you can clearly see how the God of Everything is at work, and that your homework is done for your language lesson this morning. Blessings to you and yours!!

His,
Kellye