Why I can't wait until Wednesday...and happy birthday, Daddy!

These are some pics Sarah Beth took of Han for photography class this week. Hannah is 11...we've decided to lock her in the dungeon next to Sarah Beth. Sound like a good plan to you?

Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil, cling to what is good. Romans 12:9

You know what I love about Sundays? Time. Lots of time. I don't have to be at church at 8a.m. for praise team rehearsal and sound check. I don't have to rush through Sonic trying to get something to nourish my poor kids. (Although a Sonic diet coke with that ice sounds really, really good right now!) I can relax into my day of worship. I love it. And on this particular Sunday, I even got to do my quiet time and Bible study at my desk in our room, because Marc and John-John are away for the weekend on a campout. (Don't get me wrong, though--I am ready for my men to be back home.) I just love Sundays.

This weekend has been spent trying to get us ready to leave on Wednesday for a two-week trip to Prague, Czech Republic. Marc will work for a few days with the media office for our region, and then we have a regional conference called Ebenezer, which is for those of us who have been on the field for a year. Then we are spending some time with friends in Prague. It will be relaxing and fun and exciting...and I honestly can't wait. And yes, Prague is a fairy tale city--one of the most beautiful places in Europe--but that isn't why I'm excited. And it's not even the free refills on diet coke (with ice!!!) at Bohemian Bagel...though that's pretty exciting. I cannot wait to see my friends.

I have struggled my whole life with friendships, especially friendships with other women. In high school, I was absolutely terrorized by my "best friends," girls who were so mean to me that, in retrospect, it's puzzling to me that I endured four years of their "friendship." I did manage to make tremendous friendships in college, great women who encouraged me (and continue to encourage me) to be all that God has called me to be. Twenty years later, those are still some of the best relationships in my life. But once I was married, I learned some unfortunate truths about friendships among Christian women, and I learned them the hard way, and what I walked away with was the general attitude that Christians are just mean. I never fit the profile of a traditional Christian woman. I was ambitious and maybe a little too straightforward for my own good. And time and time again, I just got burned. In fact, for the last three years of my life in the States, I would say that my best friends were definitely people outside the church, people I worked with who were more encouraging to me than some inside the church. And so I went to FPO with the attitude that I was there for two months, I was getting my training, and I was walking away untethered by relationships.

God had other plans. He used FPO as a time to develop relationships in my life (and in our life as a family) that would not only encourage us to be God's people, but would hold us accountable for being God's people. The people we talk to on a regular basis--from all over Eastern Europe, India, Jordan, Brazil--these are the people who have, from time to time, kept us here. The relationships we treasure the most are the ones that are just absolutely honest. Some days, life on the mission field stinks. It's cold here. I don't always like my husband or my children. In fact, some days they drive me absolutely nuts. And I have precious friends who I can call and just say, "Okay--talk me out of this--I absolutely must go home TODAY!!!" And time after time, they have listened to me cry, comforted me, and then told me to man up. (That was for you, Tara!)

So I am looking forward to time with Elaine, Suzanne, Janet, Melissa, Billie, Vicki, Stacy, Rachel, Erin, Lindsey and Holly. I am anticipating a great time seeing them, their husbands, their kids. I know there will be some sad moments, too. I will miss Teri during this time...but I will miss her with people who lived with her and were encouraged by her at FPO, who were at the party Elaine organized for her before she returned to Moscow, who still smile from a photograph that Teri kept on her kitchen counter. And I will miss my friends who aren't in this region, people I would dearly love to see. I will be excited for victories, saddened by losses, and tickled by all of our language stories. But above all, I will be thankful for my "mission friends," God's special gift to me, my little earthly reward for following Him, no matter what.

On a totally separate note, today is my Daddy's birthday. I love my Daddy. No secret there. I am so grateful and thankful for him, and I can't wait to see him in December. My Daddy loves me even when I am unlovable (how did I hit the parents jackpot?!), and he never, ever fails to pray for me and mention our name before those who know us. My Daddy is determined that no one will forget that we are here, in Russia, following God. And I am thankful and grateful for that, and for him. My favorite Daddy story is that when I was unmarried and could fly for free, he absolutely refused to allow me in the airport without accompaniment. So whenever I flew in and out of Oklahoma City when I was in college, the station manager would escort me everywhere I went. I finally said to him one day, "Mr. Franke, I promise that you don't have to meet me at the gate every time I fly in here--I know the airport like the back of my hand, and I know you have more important things to do than babysit me." He looked at me, smiled, and said, "I appreciate that, Kellye. But trust me, when you're in the airport, I have nothing better to do." I knew then that my Daddy had handed out instructions...and they were to be followed. I never mentioned it to Mr. Franke again. Thanks, Daddy, for always having somebody to meet me at the gate, for never letting me be unprotected, for knowing that my safety was more important than the bottom line. I love you so much, Daddy!!

Well, I'm going to run make some breakfast for Marc and John-John so it's hot when they get here. I am definitely ready to see my big boys! Wherever you are in the world, I pray that God has blessed you with tremendous friendships, and that you have a great daddy, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

The map

The big map of Russia on my living room floor. Everything in color is Russia. It's a big country.
Marc's destinations in the Far East of Russia, which is 10 time zones away.
His train route through the chosen cities in Siberia. The route is on the famous Trans-Siberian Railroad.
His destinations in European Russia. At the very top, the circled city is Arkanghelsk, which translates to archangel in English. It's a cold, cold place that he's planning to visit in February, for reasons completely unclear to me.

Bless the LORD, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name. Psalm 103:1

I have giggled several times on this blog about the verse in Psalms where the writer speaks about God planting his feet in a large place. As you can see from the above maps, God has definitely planted our feet in a large place. Russia is 1/6 of the world's landmass. It is the largest country in the world. In Russia there are many, many people groups (clusters speaking the same language and having cultural identity) who have zero evangelical presence in their village or community. Russian men have the lowest life expectancy in the developed world. In the northern parts of Russia and in the Far East, there are people groups who are shamanistic and worship/celebrate the spirits living in trees. More than any other place I can imagine, Russia has a huge variety of people. It's very hard to say one thing about all Russians. When I look at that map above, the task--even the task just for this year, with Marc's trips--seems overwhelming. Couple that with the proposed changes coming in our company--and the changes that could mean for our family--and it would be easy to not just be discouraged, but to be defeated.

But you know what? I'm not discouraged, and I'm definitely not defeated. Here's how God is at work in my life: when I look at those circles on the map, at those places my wonderful man will be in the next year, I don't feel discouragement. I feel excitement. I feel a tug at my heart for the people in those places, the people he will meet, the Russian pastors who are, perhaps, working alone and making little progress. None of those places have any IMB presence, and most have little evangelical presence, if any. I feel excited to see what God will do with the pieces Marc will produce about those places. I think about him riding the Trans-Siberian railroad and wonder what kind of people he will share his coupe with, what friendships he might develop, what stories he will have to tell. I think about him in Siberia in the winter, and I smile, because there's just enough adventurer in Marc for that to be exciting. I think about our beloved colleagues he will meet in different places near those cities, and I am thrilled for the time he will get to spend with them.

Yesterday we met with Irina to schedule Russian lessons, which begin when we return from Prague in mid-October. We don't have to do any more language. No one is requiring it of us, and we are, technically, short-term missionaries, though short-term has never been how we saw ourselves. But because we are ISC missionaries, we don't have to do any more language. But we want to do more. We are committed to winning Russians to Christ, and that means being committed to really knowing their language. Will we know everything we need to know during this term? Definitely not. But we continue to push ourselves to know more, to become more familiar with the language, to speak it every day in an effort to be able to use it better. Language lessons aren't fun, but I'm pretty sure hanging on that cross wasn't fun, either. It seems like a small sacrifice in the face of Christ's sacrifice for us.

What does all this have to do with the map? discouragement? encouragement? Here's the thing: with the changes coming in our company, there's a possibility we would be asked to eventually move to another country to work. We have heard what the four possibilities are, which cities the company is looking at, and they are gorgeous, wonderful places that anyone in his right mind would jump at the chance to live and serve in. Six months ago, I might have jumped up and down and clapped my hands in anticipation if faced with the possibility of living in one of those cities. But this big map on my living room floor--it's filled with the people who have captured my heart. People in huge mega-cities and tiny little villages. Billionaires and reindeer-herders. It is huge and unknowable and unfathomable, difficult and hard and depressing...but it's where my heart is. It's the place God called me to love. It's where they speak the language that has been the bane of my existence--and the subject of some real triumphs--in the last year. I cannot imagine being anywhere else. And that, my friends, is the miracle of God at work.

Well, I have been up since 2:30 and have managed to get some things done before getting ready for school, but it's time to get going and get ready. Of course, the day I get up at 2:30 is the one day of the week when I'm at school all day. Oh, well...maybe I can get a good night's sleep tonight. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are all there--heart, mind, and soul--and that you have gotten more sleep than I have. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

On being distracted

Sarah Beth and her team wore war paint for their game this week...I thought you'd enjoy some pictures. They played at the Anglo-American School of Moscow--oh, my word, you've never seen a school quite like this one. Your tax dollars at work!

...the blind receive sight and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached to them. Mathew 11:5

John Donne is one of my favorite poets, and he wrote a series of sermons that were treatises on something, hence the title of the blogs that start with "on"--my little homage to a long-dead poet/preacher who has greatly impacted my adult life. I'm such an English teacher sort of gal that it didn't occur to me that no one else out there was getting my little homage to Donne. (You should feel free to read "English teacher" as "geeky nerd girl." Whichever you prefer is fine.)

There is a lot going on in our organization right now, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't distracting. Marc and I are in a weird position here in Russia--we are technically support staff, but we don't feel like support staff. What does "support staff" even mean? Like everyone else on the administration team here, we are involved in ministry every day, ministry that goes beyond what our job descriptions declare we are to be doing. And, of course, every email we get encourages us not to be distracted, while acknowledging how hard it is not to be distracted. I appreciate a company that realizes that this kind of stuff is an easy way for us to be taken off task, off the "main thing," as the company calls it. And all of this makes us think about the years ahead. What will we be doing in our next term? How does that impact our time stateside, when we will be thinking about education that we still need, etc.? So many, many questions!

But you know what? The main thing is still the main thing. Leading people to Jesus, every single day, is our goal. And whether that's as part of the support staff or as church planters, it's still the main thing. Maybe this reorganization is a good time for us to really examine what it is we're doing here, what it is God has specifically called us to do. And then, just like when we came to Russia in the first place, to simply follow Him in whatever direction He leads. But I won't pretend it's easy to stay focused. It isn't. No matter where you live and what you do, not knowing about what is coming in the future is hard, isn't it?

Well, it's time to get ready for our guests this afternoon. I was away at a staff retreat from Thursday to Saturday, and the family was wonderful and cleaned the house, so I don't actually have much to do. Marc talked to the folks at the dryer-repair place, and we may have a dryer later in the week...please, please pray that we have a dryer later in the week. What will I do with the hours of free time and all the clean clothes? I might do something fun! Or I might just find some other onerous task to occupy my newly-found free time. Yeah, that sounds more like me. Why didn't I inherit some relaxation genes? None. I got none of them. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that no matter what's going on, you are focusing on the main thing, whatever that may be for you, and that you know how to relax better than I do! Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

The card, the sermon...and being grateful

It's all about You, Jesus
And all this is for You
For Your glory and Your fame
It's not about me
As if You should do things my way
For You alone are God
And I surrender to Your ways.

I had a weird experience last night, and it made me think of something I have definitely learned in our first year on the field, so I thought I'd spend a few minutes blogging this morning. I faithfully listen to my home church's podcast of our pastor's sermons, and for whatever reason, there haven't been many new ones lately. So last night, I decided I would go through my entire iTunes library of those sermons, starting with the oldest, and "clean out" a little. Obviously, there are some I want to keep, but there are others I can delete and make space for more. And the bonus is that I would get my sermon "fix" at the same time.

So I'm listening while I work on typing a test. The kids are asleep, and I'm not totally focused on the sermon, but I am listening. The sermon dated from January, 2006, and it was a series on Strong Faith, which was an outstanding series of sermons that God really used in our lives to encourage us as we went through the IMB process, but also to challenge us not to be satisfied with where we were spiritually. All of a sudden, the pastor--Alan Floyd--calls Marc's name. Now if you attend FBC Middleburg, you know that he often does this with whomever happens to be sitting at the front, which Marc and I always did. But can I tell you that two and half years later and a half a world away, it's a weird experience. Marc was sitting on his couch in our room, working on graphics or something, and he paused and looked over at me. Together, we listened as the pastor continued to talk to him for at least another minute in the sermon. It was a really strange experience.

Weird, definitely, but that's not what made it blog-worthy. It was just a reminder of the important role our home church played in our listening to and obeying God's call on our lives. Without FBC Middleburg, I know that we would not be in Moscow right now. I don't know where we'd be, but the challenge, the accountability, the relationships, the ministry opportunities at our home church were instrumental in the work God was doing at the time in our lives. And individuals from our church continue to support us. We have received numerous financial gifts from folks in our church. We get emails of support. Every Thursday morning a group of men meets together, and they always pray for us. One of the VBS classes collected things to send to us, things we have thoroughly enjoyed. And just yesterday, we received a card in our mailbox from the Daughters of Ruth Sunday School class, full of notes of encouragement and love and support. On a cold, wet, dreary Moscow day, when this seems like the last place on earth anyone would want to be, there was a little Florida sunshine in my mailbox.

Sometimes, it is easy to feel forgotten here. People at home are busy with their every day lives (as we are), and they don't call or write or contact us, and Satan uses that as a fiery dart against us. And it's an effective one. But always, every single time we think we are forgotten, God brings us to the mind of some precious person, who sends us a note or calls to encourage us. Last week, we heard from our music minister and our pastor. The week before, it was a quick note from the administrative pastor. The card in the mailbox, the package from home...these are unbelievable comforts to us as we pursue what God's best--not His easiest--is for us. I am grateful this morning for a church that challenged us to accept God's call. And I am grateful, too, for those individuals who pray for us weekly or daily, who think to send an email or call us, who hold up our arms and stand in the gap for us when we are too weary to do it for ourselves. If you are one of those people--you are precious to us. If you are one of the people who read this blog regularly as you prepare for your own move to the field--treasure those people in your life who will constantly lift you before the throne of our big, big God. You will be amazed at who those people turn out to be, and you will know that you are blessed by God to have them in your life.

Well, time to get the Sarah Bethster up and going. Today is her first soccer match, and no matter how she plays, let me just say that she looks very, very cute in her jersey. Wherever you are in the world, I challenge you to spend some time today praising God for your home church, and I hope that you have good, warm gloves for your child's soccer game this afternoon. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

I am one blessed woman

Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good, for His lovingkindness is everlasting. Psalm 136:1

I have been so busy the last week that I haven't had a chance to blog, so I thought I would jot down some thoughts this morning, since I (believe it or not) have a couple of extra minutes. (It could have something to do with the fact that I actually went to bed at 7 last night, because I was feeling cold and fluish.) Since I haven't blogged in ten days, I wanted to just spend a few minutes so you would know for sure that I am alive and well and still living in Moscow.

We are swiftly approaching our one-year-on-the-field anniversary. Unbelievable. A year! So much has happened in that year, and it will take a while for me to digest all of it, but I thought this would be an appropriate time to stop and be thankful for a lot of things that may seem small to the rest of the world, but for which I am so grateful. So here's my list of things (and people) I'm really grateful for at this stage of my life:

• my fabulous husband. He has to top any list. He is kind, compassionate, generous, loving, a great dad, and above all, he is absolutely God's guy. As I watch him grow into his ministry here, as I watch him with our Russian friends, as I watch him seek God's face...I am speechless. As he explained how Jesus' sacrifice saves us using an example from physics and speaking in Russian yesterday...let's just say I fell just a little bit more in love with him.
• my kids. They are fabulous people. Not perfect, of course. But I was reminded this week from someone outside the family what tremendous people my children are. I think I'll keep them.
• my parents and sisters. No one, and I mean absolutely no one, on the field anywhere in the world has a more supportive family. Packages, letters, emails, calls...you name something, and my family has done it. I am in love with every single one of them.
• my friends Astrid and Frances and Donna. I looked around at a tea on Saturday with other ladies from our company, and I realized that I am really blessed with some of the greatest friends I've had in a long time. They are all very different people, and I have different relationships with each of them, but I am so thankful for people who love me, who pray for me, and who laugh with me.
  
• splenda for coffee. Honestly, my sister sent me the french vanilla flavor...it's what heaven will taste like.
• really good slippers. My mom sent me these Easy Spirit slippers that are big and fluffy, and I just love them so much. Right now, it's cold and the government hasn't turned on the heat, so slippers are IMPORTANT!!
• a couple from my home church who supply us with American medicines. I can't tell you what a blessing that is to us. How Russians survive without good cold medicine, I have no clue. But we do survive, because this couple has taken it upon themselves to keep us swimming in the medicines we need from home.
• the folks from the States who are helping to pay for my kids' tuition. There is no thank you big enough. Honestly, it has made such a difference in our lives to have the kids at Hinkson.
• ziploc bags from home. They are worth the effort to wash and re-use. Trust me on this.
• good walking shoes. We walk A LOT.
  
• mickey mouse ice trays. A friend sent them from Disney World, and they have given us no little amount of delight. (Hey, we're easy.)
• weight watchers snacks. I love them, and they are helping me take off some pounds I put on in the first few months here.
• Ebenezer conference at the end of the month. Oh, my goodness...you could define anticipation by our excitement over the time in Prague.
  
• documents, documents, documents. They are all in order now, and they are the most beautiful things I've ever seen.
• a company that emphasizes language training. I don't love taking language lessons, but it's unbelievably important to be able to speak in the heart language of someone you're trying to lead to Christ.
• all the people who read this blog. Some of you know me, some of you don't...but you are so faithful to read and support and encourage. I love you so much, and while I haven't a clue why this would be interesting to anybody, I'm so grateful it is.
  

Well, the eggs are boiled and the toast needs to be made for breakfast. I'm looking forward to teaching only my two classes this morning and then heading home. I learned quickly last week that a full-time job in a place where it takes a day to dry two loads of laundry is...impossible. Wherever you are in the world, I challenge you to make a list of the things you are thankful for, and I hope you have flavored splenda for your coffee. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

On being John-John's Mommy

John-John at the zoo in Kiev, Ukraine. He loved the giant animal statues you could climb on that were everywhere.

Above all else, guard your heart...Proverbs 4:23

Well, it is Saturday morning, and I am writing my weekly blog and wondering why my body/brain cannot let me sleep in just once. You would think that after a very busy, full week I would be able to sleep at least until 6. You would be wrong, because I was up and at 'em at 5:30 this morning. Stink!

I try to use this blog as a way to encourage those who read it and to hold myself accountable for what God is teaching me. Sometimes, that means that I get to tell you about the fun things (or hard things) that are happening in my life. Sometimes, I get to relate great victories that God is winning in my heart and life. And sometimes, it means confessing that I am a giant, discouraged glob of failure, that just when I think I have it all together and have this whole I-live-in-Russia thing figured out, I find that I am, as the writer of Hebrews puts it, not even ready for solid food in terms of my Christian maturity. Unfortunately, this is one of those times.

I have written before about the challenges of being John-John's mom. He can be the gentlest, sweetest child on earth, or he can be defiant and difficult beyond words. And after seven years of being his mommy, I should be a pro at dealing with the difficulties. I should be, but I am not. And what is the biggest challenge John faces? Change. Any kind of change throws him for a loop and causes untold heartache for the whole family. So we try to prepare him for what is going to happen at every turn, so that he knows what he is facing, what the schedule will be, and what is expected of him. A great example of this is school. John-John is doing great at school--working hard and behaving well. In fact, in two and a half weeks of school, he has only had one melt-down, and that was over writing, which is difficult for him, and he pulled himself together on his own. But school is very structured. The routine is the same every week. This is comforting to him and helps him survive the frustrations that can arise. A perfect example of what happens when we forget to prepare him for something different is last night's all-school picnic.

John-John knew we were going to the picnic after school. He knew there would be food, and that he would be allowed to play with his friends. But we forgot to tell him there would be an auction of treats from the States as a fundraiser for the junior class. More importantly, we forgot to tell him that we would not be able to participate in the auction because we simply do not have the money for that kind of thing. Our company provides the basic necessities of life, which is so great, but for ISC families, there is no extra money at all. In fact, it can be difficult to purchase basic necessities some months. I am not complaining--we do not have to raise our own support because of the faithful gifts of millions of Southern Baptists, and that is a huge blessing. But the reality is that we don't have money for extras. And some of the families who do raise their own funds have lots of money, so there just isn't any way for us to compete with them in an auction for things, frankly, we don't need. But try telling that to a hyperactive 7-year-old whose medication has worn off and who desperately wants the box of pop-tarts being auctioned because he hasn't seen a pop-tart in a year. Does he NEED the pop-tart? No. But he doesn't understand that he doesn't need them. All he knows is that someone is getting those pop-tarts, it's not him, and that doesn't seem fair. It went downhill from there, ending with Marc and I having to catch him as he ran away from us and carry him to the car to take him home. He screamed so hard on the way home that the veins on his forehead stood out. To his credit, he calmed himself enough to walk into our apartment building under his own steam, and once the meltdown was over, have a pretty good evening. But the damage was done. Marc and I were completely discouraged, wondering if Russia is the best place to bring a special-needs child.

When I sat down this morning to analyze last night's complete disaster, I had to assess what it was I was so upset about, what I had found so discouraging. Was it my concern for my child, for his well-being, for his future...or was it my embarrassment at his behavior? Was I honestly upset about the impact of this episode on him, or was I upset about the perception by others that I am a less-than-perfect mother with a less-than-perfect child? Of course, it does upset me that he completely implodes over disappointments, over change. It hurts me that he is so tender and gentle that he can be a target for kids who aren't so gentle or tender. But what really concerned me last night was how others would see me. And the really awful thing is that John-John knew that better than I did. He came to me later in the night, put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Don't worry, Mommy. People will forget in a couple of weeks what I did. It will be ok." Ouch. For a kid who has made huge progress in the last year, when we couldn't even consider what putting him in school might be like, maybe the biggest setback is not the meltdown he had last night, but the mom who focuses on the setback and not the progress.

So, dear reader, what deep, spiritual meaning can I glean from this? To paraphrase Bob and Larry of Veggie Tales fame, God made John-John special, and He loves him very much. God designed him, flaws and all, and has a special plan for my boy. But I have to trust that His plan is better than my plan, that His love is better than my love. You know what? John-John isn't like other kids, and he may not ever be like other kids. And I have to be okay with that, and I have to not care what other people think. You know who worried me the most last night? Another couple whose response to seeing John-John act different was to tell me that if we would just discipline him more, he would stop acting like that. A couple who stopped inviting us over and doing stuff with us when they discerned that he was less-than-perfect. I love these people, and they are well-meaning, but why am I more about their reaction or perception than I am about my own child's best interests? He is a great kid, and without him, my life would be less. Less funny, less emotional, less passionate, less interesting. Less. So I am going to say this out loud for the whole world to hear: my kid is not like everybody else's kid, and when I see other kids with my kid, I often think the advantage is all his. He is funny and kind and gentle, he loves all God's creatures, even the gross ones (maybe especially the gross ones), he leaves dinosaurs in the bathtub and freezer, and every Russian alive thinks he is wonderful, so it turns out he's more of a missionary than the rest of us, because he talks to everybody he meets and charms them all. So there. How do you like them apples?

Alright, it's time for me to go. I am taking the girls to the mall to see if we can find some cheap school stuff. Hannah's backpack is a disaster of disorganization, and we still have some soccer stuff to get. Pray for us--the mall on a Saturday is a nightmare. At least we're taking public transportation, which is much easier than driving. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that God is showing you daily how much He loves the special people in your life, and that you are prepared for a full day of college football. Go Gators! Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Where I am coming from...

May we arm ourselves with the mind of Christ
To rejoice in trials and be not surprised.
May our hearts be so consumed by You
That we never cease to praise!
--"Never Cease to Praise"

Did you ever have that morning where you just could not force yourself onto the elliptical machine? I am having that morning. I usually get up, spend time on the elliptical, take my shower, get S.B. up, and then have my quiet time. This morning, I just could not face the thought of the machine. So I'm blogging instead, and I'll do my exercise time tonight. I promise I will--I exercise every day except Saturday and Sunday. So for me, the rule follower of all rule followers, breaking up my routine is about as rebellious as I get. I know...you're speechless with shock over my wild rebellion.

I read those verses in Genesis a few days ago where the angel asks Hagar, "Where are you coming from, and where are you going?" As we quickly approach the one-year mark here in Moscow, I have really been thinking about that. Where am I coming from, and where am I going? Of course, only God knows where I'm going, but I think lately He's been dropping some clues. But in this blog, I'd like to spend a couple of minutes on where I'm coming from.

I'm still astounded to be here. Maybe there will come a point in my career where I am not astounded to wake up in Moscow, Russia, or wherever God leads, but I'm still pretty astounded by it. Not because it's Russia, although there are certainly moments when that's pretty weird, too, but just that God would call somebody so ordinary out of such an ordinary life to something like this. Talk about filling jars of clay! I am a pretty plain jar of clay, and I am still trying to come to grips with not understanding why God has called me to this. But as I look back over the last year of my life, I can definitely see ways in which He spent my whole life preparing me for my life here. What is especially compelling to me is how He uses those things with which He has gifted us to glorify Him. I didn't come here with any intention of teaching, thinking that life was behind me, but it is precisely that which He has used to give me ministry opportunities that are very satisfying to me, that help me to be content in this life that is so different from the life I once led. I love teaching at Hinkson. It is a wonderful part of my life. And I adore teaching the students in my English club every Thursday night. Many, many times, especially during May and June, which were the hardest months for us, English club was what kept us here. When Hannah cried about how much she hated her life here, it was English club that made staying worth it (that, and the hope and many, many prayers that contentment and joy would return to our darling girl).

I don't really have anything deep and meaningful to take away from this, except that God is faithful in all things, even in the ways He gifts us and prepares us for those things He has for us in the future. Oh, and this--if He can call me to Russia, He can call you somewhere, too. I'm not saying He is calling you to a "foreign" land, but the longer I'm on the field, the more I know that He calls ordinary people to do extraordinary things for Him. So watch out! :o) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you take a few minutes today to think about where you are coming from, and that Hurricane Gustav did not cause too much trouble in your part of the world. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye