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