He is not asleep

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye

Looking for the footprints

Righteousness will go before Him and will make His footsteps into a way. Psalm 85:13

I haven't written in a few days, both because I've been very busy and because our internet was out for almost two days. If you're looking for a good, but difficult, way to practice your new language--call the internet repairman to try and figure out what's wrong with your internet. Good times! We have been busy, too--language lessons, meetings, new families coming into Moscow, friends leaving for Stateside, sleepovers, picnics--you get the idea. In fact, as I write this, Hannah is at her friend's house spending the night. We have a break in language lessons next week while our teacher is on vacation in Turkey, and then we have three more days and I'm done and Marc is done for the rest of July and all of August. In September, he will go back to do some part-time language, but will be done with full-time. You cannot imagine the sigh of relief that is for us. Because we are working under the International Service Corps and not the Career appointment track for the IMB, we have had to do full-time language with no help for our children. If we were career, we would have had school paid for so the kids would be out of the house during our language lessons, and we might have had a house helper. We have had neither, and it has been extremely difficult on the entire family. Please know that I am not complaining--these are simply the facts of the program under which we came. But now that it's summer, it is very hard on the kids, because they are basically stuck in the apartment while we are doing language and homework. My kids are from Florida, and they need their outside time! So we made this decision prayerfully and carefully, but we have no doubt that it's the right decision. We will never be fully finished with language, and if we come back to Russia as career missionaries we will have to go back into language school for at least a year. I have to be honest...that's a hard idea to wrap my brain around. But if that's what God calls us to, then that's what we'll do.

One of the things I have really, really struggled with here is what success looks like. When we were in a meeting the first month we were here, a good friend, someone whose opinion I value highly, said to me, "Kellye, my concern for you is that you put such an emphasis on being successful. Success does not look the same here as it did in the States." Truer words have never been spoken. When we were deciding whether or not to take on house church after our team leaders head home for a year of Stateside, my only concern was success. I even said to Marc, "I don't want to fail at one more thing here. I just don't think I can handle any more failure." When he asked me what I felt I had failed at, my response was a long list of things: language, homeschooling, making friends, getting the house organized...you name it, and I feel I've failed at it. Then last weekend, I made the mistake of looking at some very, very good news about some programs I started in a couple of the schools I worked in at home. Those programs are thriving, students are being successful, teachers seem satisfied...and I'm stuck in Russia, where I can't even speak the language above the level of a five-year-old. I know what success looks like in my field. I know what success looks like in my home church. But it's not at all clear to me what success looks like here.

I'd love to say that I have this all figured out now, that my search for success is all in the past tense, that I feel comfortable and encouraged and wonderful about how I fit into God's plan for this huge city...but I can't. Marc is gregarious and outgoing, and Russians adore him. He has work stacked up for the next twenty years. He clearly fits into the IMB's strategy for this megacity. My particular gifts--organization, leadership, even music--don't seem to be of any use here. But I know that God has a purpose and a plan, and that somewhere out there in this city of fifteen million, His footprints are laying out a way for me. I just have to find where the footprints are, and then follow. Of course, that falls under the heading of "easier to say than do," but I think He'll honor my efforts.

Well, everyone in my house is up and moving, so I should go. There is enough cleaning to be done to keep me busy for a long time, so I should probably get to it. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that His footsteps are clearly marked out for you, and that your coffeecake turned out as tasty as mine did this morning. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Declaring Him worthy from the elliptical machine

My precious Sarah Beth. She took this while at Victory Park, her favorite place in Moscow. I'm so proud of how she just gets out and goes and explores. She is a pretty great kid (and cute, too).
Also at Victory Park--the Russian Orthodox onion dome. This style of architecture, which is so closely identified with all things Russian, is a combination of two giant influences in Russian culture--Europe and Asia.

Therefore, since we have this ministry, as we received mercy, we do not lose heart, but we have renounced the things hidden because of shame, not walking in craftiness or adulterating the word of God, but by the manifestation of truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God. II Corinthians 4:1-2

Worthy is the Lamb/Worthy of our praise/Worthy is the One who has overcome the grave/Let the people dance/Let the people sing/Worthy is our mighty King! Alive Forever Amen--Travis Cottrell

You're going to look at the time stamp on this post, do the math, and wonder what in the world I'm doing up at 6:15 a.m. on a Saturday. Well, truth be told, I've been up since 3:30, when I got up to turn on the projector and slingbox for Hannah and her friends Abby and Amielle to watch Camp Rock, the newest Disney channel movie. Clearly, I have got to get a life! Actually, listening to them giggle and laugh at the movie (which stars the Jonas Brothers, who are purported to be Christians) was well worth the three hours of sleep I actually got last night. Plus, I got a nice, long quiet time with no interruptions...that alone is worth getting up early. I think I convinced them to go back to sleep for a little while, so hopefully they will take my advice. Otherwise, I'm going to have some very tired girls on my hands.

The big news of the week, besides that the dryer can be fixed for relatively little, is that I purchased an elliptical machine. Those of you who know me will remember that I had to lose quite a bit of weight in order to be appointed by the IMB, which has very strict weight guidelines, and that I spent a good amount of time on a treadmill in order to walk off the pounds. I am very excited about my machine. I have used it every day since I've had it. It's the hardest exercise I've ever done, but I like it because I can listen to my iPod at the same time. I like to listen to MercyMe, Third Day, or Travis Cottrell while I exercise--it just helps motivate me and pump up my commitment.

Yesterday I was listening to one of my all-time favorite songs, "Alive Forever Amen." I have sung this song in all kinds of contexts and groups--large choirs, small praise teams, etc, and it never fails to move me. So I was sweating away--I had washed my exercise clothes, so they were still wet, and I was wearing an old OBU t-shirt and long john pants--and it occurred to me that everything we do declares Him worthy...or doesn't. Yes, going to the mission field makes a statement about Christ's place in my life, but raising my children to honor Him does, too. Going to church every Sunday is a declaration of sorts, but so is handling your business dealings in an ethical manner. Teaching VBS is kingdom work for sure, but so is being nice to the cashier at Publix. I think I always knew that how I lived my life mattered, but it is increasingly clear to me here in the midst of the Russian culture. Russians may come off as distant and aloof, but one-on-one they are very responsive to simple gestures of just being a decent human being. We stopped to help a man Wednesday night who was so drunk he fell over when he got off the bus with us. Marc helped him up, I grabbed his bag, and we got him to a bench. And while the danger of alcohol is an important lesson for my kids, a more important lesson, at least in my opinion, is that part of being real Christians is treating people with compassion and dignity and mercy, even when they have not earned it. Literally stooping down to pick someone up declares Him worthy of any sacrifice we could possibly make. More than anything else I want to teach my children, I want them to see in my life a model of what it means to daily declare Christ worthy of my praise.

It's almost time to get Marc up, so I should go. It's quiet in the living room, so I'm hoping the girls went to sleep. Marc and John are asleep in our room--John-John wanted a sleepover, too--and Sarah Beth managed to get some sleep in her own bed. Luckily, we only have a light day, though we will likely be up late because Russia is playing The Netherlands in the quarterfinals of the Euro Championships. Try to imagine the frenzy of the Super Bowl plus lots of vodka. Actually, it is really fun to watch, and we can hear people cheering and celebrating in the apartments around us and on the street. The match tonight doesn't start until 10:45, so there's little hope that we'll be in bed early. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are living a life that declares Him worthy of your very best, and that your daughter's sleepover friends are as wonderful as Hannah's. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Just for fun

Honestly, this is just because I think it's funny, and John-John speaks Russian, which I think is pretty cute. Enjoy!

I miss my Daddy so much

Momma and Daddy with me and Marc at our commissioning service. We left the next day for Moscow. I am so crazy about my parents, it's ridiculous.

How blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, nor stand in the path of sinners, nor sit in the seat of scoffers! But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and in His law he meditates day and night. He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and its leaf does not wither; and in whatever he does, he prospers. Psalm 1:1-3

A long time ago, a Sunday School teacher challenged us to memorize this chapter, which I did. Every time I come across it, whether reading the Scripture or just in my memory, I always think of my Daddy. More than anyone I know, my Daddy is a person willing to make the hard choices in life, simply because they are the right choices. He is a tree planted by the living water. People who know our family often have said that I may look like my Momma, but I have a whole lot of my Daddy in me. I always say, "Thank you."

I miss my Daddy. Make no mistake about it...I am extremely close to both my parents. Days like today, set aside for celebrating our fathers, are especially hard when you're five thousand miles away from him. But if he were here (or if he were even awake in Florida, where it's midnight), I know that he would tell me to keep my chin up, to remember what I am here for, to remember Who I am here for, and to know that I am loved more than I can imagine. I know, because in the darkest days in Moscow, that's exactly what my Daddy has said to me. Now I know that he says that and then gets off the phone and goes to the garage and prays and worries about me, but on the phone, he's always encouraging.

Those of you who know my Daddy may be surprised by his tenderness. A successful businessman, my Daddy is likely not known in that world as the tender, gentle guy I am describing. I know, because in the schools I've worked at, I'm pretty sure tender and gentle would not be words people would use to describe me. I am, like my Daddy, a fiercely focused, intense person, and I can sometimes come off as gruff or distant. I can remember being in college and having my plane met by people who worked for Daddy. I told one of them, the station manager in OKC, that I knew he had better things to do than to escort me to baggage claim and to my car or ride every time I flew in or out of OKC, which was often. He replied that considering who my Dad was, he had absolutely nothing more important to do than to make sure I got from point A to point B safely. I got kind of tickled at that, thinking of my Daddy with his black socks and shorts (he doesn't do that anymore, thank goodness!), his cigar, his messy hair in the mornings. But I came to understand that, though he was just Daddy at home, he was Somebody at work. As an adult, I appreciate that my Daddy never really thought of himself as Somebody. He was just a guy who worked hard and was moved up the ladder.

When we came to my parents to tell them we were moving to Russia, my Daddy cried. Not because he was sad, though I think it was sad for him to have the grandkids taken away, but because he was so proud of us. He pitched in and worked hard to get us ready to move. He cleaned and helped us sort stuff, took care of the kids while we got things done, and helped us just generally get ready to go. That could not have been easy for him--I know it wasn't for me. He spent the night before we left for Moscow weighing our bags, helping us sort and pack, cleaning our apartment at ILC. And when we said goodbye the next morning...well, I can still see his face as he walked to the car. Like Momma, Daddy has come to a peace about us living across the world, but that doesn't make it easy. Never, ever think it is easy to be away from my parents. It is, by far, the hardest part of being here. Language is difficult, but nothing compares to the difficulty of how much I miss my parents.

I wanted this to be eloquent and beautiful, but I've cried my way through it and feel like it's jumbled. Here's what I want you to know about my Daddy: he's God's guy. He loves me and my family so much. He is crazy about Marc, who is crazy about him, and with whom Marc talks for hours on end some weeks. He has had fabulous success in the business world because he is smart and hard-working, but also because he is the most ethical person I know. He lives his faith. He cares about missions intensely. He is close to each of my kids in a different way. My sisters and I talk to our parents often. Our big joke is that we are the only women of our age we know (I am the youngest at 40) who have to call our Daddy and let him know we got home okay. He is highly respected because he's highly respectable. He makes me want to be the person he sees me as being. He is so proud of me, and I am so proud of him. I am glad people think I am like him. It makes me think better of myself.

Okay, enough of the crying. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are loving on your Daddy or remembering him with great love, and that you slept more than four hours last night. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

How come it doesn't say "make your life easier"?

After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you. I Peter 5:10

So I was looking at this verse today, and I'm thinking of registering a complaint. I would like for it to say, "After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you...and make your life easier." Why doesn't it say that? Don't get me wrong--I'm all for being perfected, confirmed, strengthened and established, but it would sometimes be nice to have things be easy. Just for a day. Even for half a day. But that doesn't seem to be how life works, does it? I would love to tell you that every day I am in Russia, it gets a little easier, but that would be a lie. It gets better, but not easier. I adapt to what has to be done, but what has to be done doesn't change. I change in relation to it. The best example of this in my life right now is my "new" dryer. After being so excited about it, writing about it, and making my parents listen to it on the phone, I went in Monday, exactly a week after it arrived, to discover that it wasn't working. The brains of the machine appear to be fried. Everyone has looked at it, and now we have to have a repairman over to see if it can be fixed. If you looked up 'discouragement' in the dictionary on Monday, I'm pretty sure a picture of my face would be the illustration. I cried. I prayed. I even threw a tiny tantrum about it. Guess what? It still didn't work. So I'm back to washing, hanging, and ironing in order to get our laundry clean...at the rate of two loads a day, which puts me perpetually behind, something that drives me crazy.

So what is God teaching me through the dryer debacle? He's teaching me the same thing He's been teaching me since I got here, since we began this process, really. It does not matter to Him if I am caught up on laundry. It does not matter to Him if my dishes are always clean. It does not matter to Him if my children have peanut butter smeared on their faces in front of company, or that there is a perpetual layer of construction dust on everything in my home, or if I end words correctly in Russian. The only thing that matters to Him is my relationship with Him. I was reminded yesterday of something Elbert said at FPO. It struck me so much I wrote it down. "He is not calling you to save the nations. He is calling you to Himself. If you seek Him, He will be found, and you will be a success on the mission field." And so I wash and hang and iron, and, most of all, I pray for more of Him and less of me.

Well, I should run make breakfast. We are having guests tonight, so I should start getting ready for that. On a complete side note, my nephews Ben and Matt Fair are having a party this afternoon to celebrate their graduation from college, and I'd like to tell them publicly how proud of them I am. I know you THINK you have the best nieces and nephews, but I actually do. Ben and Matt are smart and handsome and talented and wonderful...and I love them both very much. I'm so proud of the two of you, and I am so glad I get to be your aunt. Being Aunt Kellye to Dan, Amy, Jason, Ben, Matt and Katie is one of the great privileges of my life. Wherever you are in the world, I hope that your prayer is more of Him every day, and that you take time to be thankful for your wonderful nieces and nephews. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Two roads diverged in a wood...and I took the one to the left

Sow with a view to righteousness, reap in accordance with kindness; break up your fallow ground, for it is time to seek the LORD until He comes to rain righteousness on you. Hosea 10:12

Marc and I watched a sermon from the Pastors' Conference of the Southern Baptist Convention last night. This verse was the basis of the sermon, and the speaker was Dr. Tom Eliff, who was my pastor in college, and who is now the Vice President of the IMB. He is, and I mean this absolutely genuinely, one of the best men I have ever known. Marc and I love him, respect him immensely, and rely on his perspective. He always preaches right where we are, and while I can say this of few preachers I have ever heard, he's as good a preacher as Alan Floyd, our pastor, who I'm convinced is one of the best in the Southern Baptist Convention. We feel about Tom Eliff the way we feel about Jerry Rankin...they are men who call us to be more like Christ, whose focus is on Christ alone and not on themselves. They are, in every sense of the word and in spite of their positions of "power," ordinary men who long only to glorify the One who has called them. The sermon was tremendous and much needed by the two missionaries sitting on the couch in our office last night.

It's hard to allow God to break up the fallow ground in our lives, isn't it? I know it was when I lived in the States, where my life was awfully, awfully comfortable. It's not any easier here on the field. It's human nature, I suppose, to settle in, to find a comfortable place, to become complacent. And let's face it--the fallow ground is tough, and when it's broken up, it's a bit painful. Sometimes, God does something big--maybe He moves us across the world to a totally new culture and language, for example--and it's in these big times that He really works. Maybe the big times are more about what God is doing in us than anything we can do on His behalf. I can tell you this: God has done more in our lives in the last eight months than we had allowed Him to do in the last twenty years. He's moving us toward something that's bigger than us. Sometimes that scares me. But someone pointed out to Marc the other day something important about being scared. Being afraid is not a reason to say 'no' to what God has for you. It's not an excuse. And it's not the same as not being at peace. (Forgive the double negatives there, please!) As God moves in big ways in our lives, as He breaks up the fallow ground, we might be afraid, but we are not alone. He is faithful. I'll say it with my dying breath. He is faithful.

Well, it's nearly 7a.m., which means it's time for me to head to the store for my daily trip for bananas. That's really not as self-sacrificing as it seems--the store is only 3/4 of a mile away, so I'm only walking a mile and a half altogether. But it's a fun time for me to listen to worship music, be outside the apartment, and most importantly, have some time alone!!! Oh, I forgot--the title is a joke about our walk last night. Marc and I walked a couple of miles last night in our neighborhood, just sort of exploring the place and enjoying each other's company. Part of our walk took us on a short hike in the woods behind our building, and we actually came to a fork in the path. Marc said, "Alright, Mrs. Frost, which way do you want to go?" My reply was, "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one to the left with the big, scary dog." Not as poetic as Robert Frost's version, but definitely more literal. Wherever you are in the world, I hope that you are praying for the rain of righteousness that God wants to pour on you, and that your husband successfully fixed both your living room door and your dining room table yesterday. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Enjoying life when it's normal

There are only two states of being, (1) submission to God, and (2) refusal to submit to anything beyond one's own will; the latter which enslaves one to the forces of evil. --Scott Peck, People of the Lie

While studying my way through the spiritual warfare sections of FPO, I came upon this quote. I haven't spent a ton of time processing it, but I would agree that you're either in submission or you're not. As someone who has both been in submission and in complete defiance, I can tell you that submission is a whole lot easier on you.

As my family says on the phone, I don't know much. We've had sort of an easy weekend. Marc and I watched The Sum of All Fears on Saturday night, which was interesting, because we understood most of the Russian without the subtitles. That was kind of cool. We probably got about 40% of yesterday's sermon at church, which is amazing. We had an all-mission brunch on Saturday, which was a lot of fun. I really like my colleagues here, and we seldom meet together. Moscow is a bigger city than you think, geographically, and it's hard to get everyone together. Yesterday was church, where the people love us so much. Sarah Beth and I have decided that when we attend church in the states, it will seem weird for things to be so short. Our church service is the length of Sunday School and church minus the songs. It will also be weird to go on Sunday nights and Wednesday nights, since we don't have that here. And we really won't know how to handle everything being in English.

So it's just kind of a normal time in our lives. We're working, taking care of kids, re-arranging the apartment, learning Russian...living life. We're spending today at IKEA, where we have to get a new dining room table. Then we're headed home to enjoy a day off with our kids. Sounds like a pretty good time to me! Wherever you are in the world, I hope you can enjoy the easy times in your life, and that the door to your living room doesn't pop out of the wall every time the wind blows. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Finding my way out of the fortress

No particular reason--I just think these are funny pics of my kids. I think these were taken at FPO.

For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh, for the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh, but divinely powerful for the destruction of fortresses. We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ...II Corinthians 10:3-5

What are you a part of that only God can take credit for? --Jerry Rankin, as quoted in my notes from FPO

So it's 6:35 in the morning, and I have been up for an hour and a half. I have quiet timed, done two loads of laundry (did I mention how glorious my dryer is?), put away some dishes from last night, and had two cups of coffee. When I finish this, I'm going to throw on my tennis shoes and head to the store, partly to get some exercise, and partly to get some bananas. Nothing like walking a couple of miles for your bananas to make you really appreciate them.

Most of you know that by trade, I am an English teacher, which means I know a pretty good amount about language and literature. One of the things I love about teaching English is rereading great books. For example, I am rereading The Great Gatsby and Frankenstein right now, because they are summer reading for my AP students. Marc doesn't understand this at all, but I love to look at a book I've read before and studied, because I find new things each time. I am a little different than the last time I read it. I see it a little differently. For example, Frankenstein opens in St. Petersburg, Russia, something I'd forgotten and probably not paid much attention to before. But now that I live in Russia and have been to St. Petersburg, it means more to me. The same is true for me of the Bible. I have read the verses above a thousand times, I'm sure. But this morning, I was struck by the word "fortresses." The NIV translates it "strongholds," which is what I'm used to. The NASB translates it "fortresses." Strongholds and fortresses may be the same thing, but, at least to me, the connotation is different. A stronghold has a grasp on me; it is something that has me around the throat a bit. A fortress is something I've either built around myself or I've climbed into or I've been kidnapped and that's where I ended up. A fortress doesn't grab me by the throat--it surrounds me and isolates me behind walls that are nearly impossible to overcome. A stronghold makes my life difficult, because I am aware of its grasp on me. I can live a pretty good life in a fortress, as long as I don't ever look over the walls and discover that I'm a prisoner.

Here's the thing: I've looked over the walls. I know I'm in a fortress. And my hair is not long enough to do the Rapunzel routine. So how did I get here, and how do I get out?

I got here because I listened to the wrong entity whispering in my ear, because here is the fortress that I've built: I'm not very likable. It started in high school, with two girls who were my "friends," but were really, truly terrible to me. I tagged along behind them no matter how mean they were because, frankly, I didn't think I deserved better. In college, I grew to trust my intellect as a way to make people at least accept me, but I did not depend on being likable. As a teacher, I have been well-loved, but I have always told myself it didn't matter to me whether students liked me, because that wasn't my job. When some of our friends decided we weren't spiritual enough to be around anymore, lest we taint them in some way (okay, that was kind of bitter...sorry), I told myself that it was really because I just wasn't a very likable person. And even here and at FPO, where we have made the closest friends of our lives, I have told myself it's because they like Marc so much, that it really has little to do with me. Now, it may sound like I'm just a humble person, but if you know me at all, you know that pride is something I struggle with, so that isn't the case. I have just climbed up into this fortress and planted myself here, accepting without question what the Enemy has said about me.

I'm going to go out on a limb here, but I'm pretty sure I'm not such an unlikable person. I think I have too many friends for that to be true. I think my English Club students want to be around me, so I must not be too terrible. When I complained about making mistakes in conversation, my teacher told me that when Russians are listening to me, they are hearing my heart, not the genitive ending instead of the accusative. Most importantly, when I read and reread the Word of God, I find that what God says about me is completely different. He says I am imminently likable. In fact, He says I'm so loved that He was willing to sacrifice His son for me. Hmmm...that's a different place than the fortress I've been calling home, isn't it?

Fortresses aren't easy to climb out of; if they were, they wouldn't be fortresses. But just for today, I'm going to try listening to the One who loves me instead of the one who hates me. I'm going to believe what He says about me. I'm going to think about my good qualities and not my bad ones. And I'm taking down a brick or two of the wall I've built around myself.

How about you? Where are you living? Are you living in the house created by the God who loves you? or the fortress built around you by the one who doesn't? Wherever you are in the world, I pray this morning that you throw out a brick or two of the fortress you're living in, and that you can sleep past 5a.m. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Too much to say

This may seem random, but I wanted my parents and sisters to see how cute this shirt they sent looks on Hannah. I cannot believe that "Baby Hannah" looks like this. Where has the time gone?

For whatever is born of God overcomes the world; and this is the victory that has overcome the world--our faith. Who is the one who overcomes the world, but he who believes that Jesus is the Son of God? I John 5:4-5

"It's not the elephants--it's the termites that get you." --note of mine from FPO

This is one of those mornings that I have so much to say that I don't think I can say it all coherently. Some mornings, I don't blog simply because there isn't time. Some mornings, I just don't have anything to say. Some mornings are like this one--how do I get it all down in black and white?

We are at a critical stage in our lives here. We have folks from our FPO who have already left the field. This is about the time that decision gets made--either we're going to stay, we're going to leave, or we're going to stay but be really unhappy, or we're here for good (or at least 'til the end of our term). I'm sure to those of you who have not lived in another country, these seem like cut and dried issues. We made a commitment, so we stay, unhappy or not. But the reality of life on the field (and maybe this is true if you're a missionary or a military person or a diplomat) is that it's just hard. Really hard. And we have been very transparent about that, both with you guys who read our blogs and with the folks here in Russia. This is a hard place, with hard people, a hard language, and we have had a hard transition in many ways. Part of our problem has been that there was no honeymoon period, where we just thought it was cool to be in a big city with lots of stuff to do and see. We never had that. Instead, our struggle to make a life here began nearly the moment we touched down in Moscow. Instead of easing into culture shock, we smacked up against it at the airport on our way into town.

And it seems like just when we think we have this mastered, we realize we don't. A perfect example is my language lesson yesterday. After working for hours on lots of homework, and then studying for a long time, I got nearly everything wrong. She had me studying something that even she admitted most Russians don't know or use. And then, when she told me something about one of the words in my exercise, something she'd never said to me before but expected me to know, I just had had enough. After saying, "How was I supposed to know that," I jumped up and ran out of the room in tears. In her defense, this is a very Russian way to teach...encouragement and praise are not high on the list of things to do. But I find it very frustrating to make mistakes as a way to learn something the first time. It goes against my very nature as a teacher. And while I realize it's a termite and not an elephant, yesterday it was more than I could take. The elephants that sit in our living room--financial worries, problems with our kids, how we navigate governmental issues--rarely bring me down. It's the termites that get me every time--how to order chicken the way I want it, what to call something, wanting to know more than I do about the language, wishing there were Special K bars here--these silly, seemingly meaningless little things are what make me face my own inability to do this on my own.

Ah, but there's the rub! It's those things that bring me again and again and again to the feet of the Father. It's the little nuances of relationships that make me know I cannot navigate these waters alone. It doesn't matter how smart I am, how many degrees I have, or what anybody thinks of me. I am incapable of living this life without total dependence on the One who brought me here. And while that drives me crazy as a loon some days, it's also something I'm learning to settle into day by day.

We're not considering leaving, so that's not what you should take away from this blog. But we are fully aware of how difficult life here is, and we are fully aware of the blessings of life here. And we're more than fully aware that He who called us here is completely faithful. He does not call those He does not equip. We have what we need to stay.

Well, that's not all I had to say this morning, but I need to study a few minutes before my lesson starts. One a more "up" note, we have begun a weekly Phase 10 tournament this summer with our friends, Ed and Teri, and their daughters, Rachel and Rebecca. We had a ball last night, though we did not get home until nearly midnight. It's good to do something with people you not only love and respect, but whose company you really, really enjoy. Ed and Teri are those people for us, and we are really thankful for them. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are seeking God through whatever critical time you are going through, and that you do not burst into tears when you make a mistake on your language homework. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Can you hear that sound?

Vika, Ksenia, and Sasha with the birthday card they made for Marc. We are very close to these three students, and we look forward to seeing them each week.
They also brought a gift--this t-shirt, which has the Russian flag and the Russian word for Russia, which is pronounced Ro-SEE-ya.
Zhenya, Dasha, and Sarah Beth were a group working on poems about Marc (it was an adjective exercise). Sarah Beth's t-shirt was new--a gift in a box from my parents and sister that we got that day. What fun!

O LORD, You have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up. You understand my thought from afar. You scrutinize my path and my lying down, and are intimately acquainted with all my ways. Psalm 139: 1-3

My version of the above verses: O God, You know everything about me, the good and the bad. You are interested in anything that is going on in my life. You know everything that happens in my life or will happen in my life. You knew I desperately needed a dryer, and now I have a dryer. Thanks.

Okay, a dryer may not be a big deal to you guys who live in the States, but to my mission friends around the world, can I get an "amen"? Nothing is a bigger luxury to me than having a dryer. We bought a "new" (to us) dryer from our friends who left the field on Sunday, and we got it to the apartment yesterday. By the time I went to bed (after calling my parents and making them listen to the glorious sound of it working), I had done more laundry in three hours than I'd done in the whole prior 48 hours. It's so nice. Oh...and the softness. The glorious softness. I don't know how to describe how fabulously soft our clothes feel. There's a part of me that's tempted to re-wash and dry everything in the house, just to get the softness. Alright, I'm done. But the sound in the title of this blog...it's my dryer working.

We are still working to re-arrange everything in the house, but we're getting closer to having it done. Our only fear now is that something will happen and we'll have to move. We're sort of caught between two thoughts there--on the one hand, we love our apartment, which is much nicer than the average Russian apartment. On the other, it takes us right at an hour to get to school. That's not terrible by Russian standards, but I have to admit it's a pain. So we're kind of okay either way.

I had a weird but really nice experience the other day as I was walking home. I had been at Kyle and Dan's house, helping Kyle with some of the cleaning she needed to get done in order to leave on Sunday. It had been a nice time with her--she's one of those people who absolutely anyone can talk to for hours. Anyway, I was taking a shortcut home, which takes me through this path with really tall, beautiful trees. I was listening to Travis Cottrell sing "Hosanna," and the words "Hosanna, Hosanna, in the highest" were playing through my headphones. I kind of stopped in my tracks and looked up at the trees. I was pretty much alone (in a city of 15 million, you're never totally alone anywhere), and I had this sort of weird moment where I felt like the trees, which were swaying in the wind and beautiful, were praising Him right along with me. They looked like hands raised to Him. And it occurred to me that even though I am likely the only person around me who is listening to praise music in her headphones, that He will be worshiped no matter what. Even though 99.5% of Russians are not Jesus followers, the trees and the rocks and the beauty of this place all speak to who He is. They are worshiping Him right along with me. If that sounds nutty, that's okay with me. It was a reassuring and comforting moment in my life here, and I'll take those where I can get them.

Well, Marc and Irina are in here talking about where the furniture is (it's part of his lesson), so I need to run. It's hard to be deep and spiritual while they are talking about the writing desk, which is to the right of the door. What an odd turn our life has taken. A year ago, I was discussing the great literature of the world with students. Now, I'm a two-year-old who doesn't know how to say something is behind something else. Nothing like a language lesson to humble a person! Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are watching the trees as they praise the Father, and that you can hear the glorious, glorious sound of your dryer working, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye