The peace that passes understanding

Sarah Beth's pretty excited about the fishing pole Aunt Kay and Uncle John got her for Christmas. Who could have predicted my girl would love fishing so much?

I especially love that John is fully involved with this laugh. My kids are nothing if not entertaining.

My Hannah. She's more beautiful on the inside than the outside...love this girl's sweet, sweet heart.

I think this was the second fish John caught. And yes, I did let him fish in his pajamas.

I will give thanks to You, O LORD my God, with all my heart, and will glorify Your name forever. For Your lovingkindness toward me is great, and You have delivered my soul from the depths of Sheoul. Psalm 86:12-13

Well, good morning and Merry Christmas! I figured before my Christmas break got too far along I'd better go ahead and write a blog, since I haven't been exactly faithful to writing as often as I'd hoped. You guys who live in America full-time--how on earth do you keep up with the pace? It's eating us alive!! But we are slowing down a bit for break, and enjoying some family time and rest. Or at least we're planning to do that. It's what I have down on my calendar, so it has to happen, right? :)

It's been a weird couple of days. On Saturday, I had a lovely cup of coffee with one of my favorite people and then went shopping. In the middle of my first store, I found out that my Dad had developed a hard spot on the back of his leg that was red, and his cardiologist wanted him to go on to the emergency room in Orange Park, thinking that it was possibly a blood clot. So off to the hospital I went. Things were complicated by the fact that Marc had to leave for Tallahassee to speak in a church there on Sunday. Thankfully, Sarah Beth was home and took over the kids. It turned out that it wasn't a blood clot, but it was a staff infection that had caused Daddy to develop cellulitis. It turns out that cellulitis is extremely painful, and it was hard watching Daddy be in pain. (The best story--when he stood up to get in the wheelchair to head to his room from the emergency room, the pain was so bad that he yelled, "Oh, my GOSH!" He sat down really quickly, and then said to the guy with the wheelchair, "I'm so sorry." Ha! I'm pretty sure 'gosh' was the mildest thing he'd heard all day!) But after 24 hours of really high powered antibiotics, he was so much better. They may even let him go home with just oral antibiotics today. I'm so thankful. So, so thankful. Did I mention that I'm thankful?

Most of December (and part of November) has been taken up with what we've come to call The Lottie Moon Tour. We have been in different churches every weekend, sometimes two or three. And while that has been exhausting, it has also been really refreshing. Many of the churches we've been in have been small congregations of around 100 people. Oh, my goodness...the sweetness of these people, the overwhelming kindness they have shown us, their sacrificial giving so that people like us can live on the mission field...unbelievable. One of my favorite moments happened in a small church not too far from where we live. Marc had spoken about the Chuvash, and the pastor said, "Let's be one of those churches who prays for the Chuvash. If you want to pray for these people, come down to the altar, and let's have a time of prayer for them." Of course, pastors give that kind of invitation to pray at the altar all the time, so I wasn't particularly taken aback by that. What brought me to tears was when I looked up and the entire congregation was heading down the aisle, including a woman in a wheelchair and another with a cane. There they all knelt, the whole church, praying together for a people group they'd never heard of, halfway around the world, but who they loved because we love them and because God loves them. Oh, my goodness! The sweet, sweet spirit in that room was precious to me. Even writing this, I am overwhelmed by the ways in which these small congregations have ministered to us, who came to minister to them. I am thankful to serve a God who not only knows exactly what our spirits need, but who also provides exactly what we need in such interesting and unexpected ways. The Lottie Moon tour has been an excellent, soul-nurturing opportunity to connect with more Southern Baptist churches than I could have ever predicted. And I am so thankful for that.

The strangest stop on the Lottie tour for me was last week, when I spoke at my own church. I never get nervous when I have to speak, but I was VERY nervous last week. I'm not really sure why--our church has certainly showered us with love since we came back, providing a home and utilities and cars and food...so much more than I could ever list here. But there's something about speaking to people who know you...it was different for me. It went well, I think, and our church raised its Lottie Moon goal (plus a bunch) in one day, so I'm very grateful for that. But it was definitely different for me to speak to so many people I know.

Yesterday, our pastor preached a sermon about taking a different route (based on Matthew 2:12, where the magi go back a different way in order to avoid Herod), and one of the things he said really struck me. He was talking about ways you know God is directing you in a different path, and he talked about the peace of Christ confirming for us what we believe God is telling us. And I thought about all the ways in which God has confirmed our path for us. There is no part of me that longs to remain in the States. I am grateful for my time here. I loved singing in the Christmas program (especially the rendition of Little Drummer Boy with the Clay High drum line..what fun!), and I am loving all the American Christmas stuff--shopping and making goodies for folks--and I am, of course, eating up the time with my parents. And that is not to say that there aren't hard things about leaving, too. We will leave Sarah Beth on one continent and live on another continent, and that will be so difficult for me to do, because I am clearly nuts about my girl. And I will miss my family and friends here while I am over there. But our life is there. And as hard as it is, as much as I don't want to go back into language training, as much as I am not looking forward to dark months of ice and snow...it's my life. And I love it. There is a great joy and contentment in not only doing that to which Christ has called you, but in being the person Christ has called you to be. It is a joy and contentment and peace that is worth whatever sacrifice I am called to make. And that peace, that inexplicable, overwhelming peace that passes all understanding...that peace is a confirmation that we are doing what we are called to do, what we are meant to do, what we are created to do.

It's time for me to get moving. No one here is even awake, yet, but SB and I are doing some shopping today, so I probably should get her up and going. I am attempting to get everything done today and tomorrow, because I will be having some lovely oral surgery on Wednesday, and I am planning on getting some rest after that. While I am not looking forward to the dental work, I am in a good amount of pain, and I am looking forward to that being over. :) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are basking in the glow of Christmas with your family, and that you have come up with a pretty good Christmas surprise for your husband, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Giving thanks with a grateful heart

John with my great-nephew, JJ. Two pretty sweet boys right here!

My kids are funny. I like that John is fully involved in a cackle here.

The fam. Oh, my word...I am one blessed woman!

Come and hear, all who fear God, and I will tell of what He has done for my soul. Psalm 66:16

NOTE: I wrote this while away from any internet connection last week.

I know it has been forever since I updated this. The pace of life in America has taken me a bit by surprise, and I have yet to feel that my life is somewhat organized. But I promised myself I would write at least one blog while on vacation and post it when I return, so here I am, early Wednesday morning, sitting on the dock with my Bible, this notebook and pen, and a rather strong cup of coffee. We are in east Texas at my sister and brother-in-law's lake house. We came in from Florida (via a speaking engagement in Alabama on Sunday) on Monday afternoon, and the rest of the family came in last night. Sarah Beth arrived late last night with her cousin, Katie, who drove her down from Tulsa. Now we are all here, ready to enjoy some time together. There will be games, bonfires and roasted marshmallows, and lots and lots of fishing.

We have spent a good part of the last few weeks traveling. We took Hannah home to Oklahoma for Marc's 20th college reunion. I have to be honest--that kind of thing never really enticed me much, which is surprising, because I loved college. But I'm so glad we went back. What a great time we had--seeing old friends, showing Hannah the campus, seeing some of our kids from Moscow. It confirmed for me something I'd really thought about as my kids got older--the importance of a Christian education. So much of who I am and what I believe was formed and shaped by my OBU experience. Don't get me wrong--I'm very proud of my degree from UF. However, I could not have done the giant, 4-year state university at 18. OBU was perfect for me. JBU is the perfect place for Sarah Beth. Wherever the other two wind up, I pray it will be at a Christian university, where Godly men and women can influence them in the same way those at OBU influenced me.

We left Saturday for Dothan, Alabama, where we spent the night before speaking at FBC Headland, Alabama, on Sunday morning. The real treat for us in Dothan was seeing our friends, Barb and Troy, and their kids. They came in from their home in Graceville, Florida, and spent the afternoon and early evening with us. What a blessing it is to spend time with precious friends we haven't seen since July, 2007. A lot has happened in the lives of both families, but the fellowship hasn't changed a bit. It amazes me how God brings people together to encourage and renew each other...just one more reminder of His faithfulness.

As for the future--everyone's question of late--we're still headed back to Europe. We think it looks like next summer/early fall. And we don't know where, yet. (Yes, that IS making me a little nutty!) What I appreciate about that, though, is that the indecision is based on not only what is best for our team, but what is best for our family, particularly our kids. We are praying only that God would guide our supervisor as he makes decisions, and that He would prepare our hearts for wherever our next home might be. I will tell you this--we have certainly prayed over whether or not we should return. We honestly looked at whether God was calling us here or there. And I can say without a doubt that He is calling us back to Europe. We have had enough confirmation of that from enough different sources that we are not questioning our next step at all.

So that's the blog from the dock. The wind is starting to really pick up, and my paper is not longer cooperating, so that's my cue to end. I am looking forward to a great day with people I really love. That's a great deal to be thankful for in and of itself. And when I think that it's only one blessing in a life showered with blessings...well, that's enough to leave me speechless. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are counting your many blessings, and that your husband just sat down next to you with a fishing pole, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

An update for Ada

I don't really know what to say about this, except that Hannah is really enjoying being in America for a while. :)

Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness. Delight yourself in the LORD; and He will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:3-4

It's been a while, and a certain someone (Ada Wiisanen) has been after me to update this, so I decided while the house was quiet this morning, I would do just that. There's a lot to tell you, but there's not a lot to tell you at the same time. Life is pretty much what you would expect--I go to work, Marc works at home, the kids go to school, we talk to Sarah Beth frequently, and then we do all of that all over again. We get to see people we haven't seen in a while, we get to do things that are American, we get to eat food we haven't eaten for a while...that's not very interesting stuff to write about, is it? It's fun, and we're enjoying all of that (although American food makes my feet swell...how much salt is there in prepackaged stuff?!), but I'm pretty sure a monologue about eating at a particular restaurant isn't why you log on and read this blog. (If it is, get help. Seriously...something is not quite right with that!)

One of the things we are really enjoying about being home is the many opportunities we have had and will have (especially in the next two months) to talk to churches and associations about the work going on in Europe. I love to speak to different groups about the amazing view of God we've been given during our time on the mission field. It is definitely a unique experience, and we are always thrilled to talk about it. I love the questions we get--everything from food we eat overseas to whether or not we're afraid to live in Russia. People are curious about the language, the kind of people Russians and Czechs are, the places we lived, what we've seen, how our children like being MKs...generally anything about our lives overseas. But what they get really excited about is when we talk about how all of those ordinary (and sometimes extraordinary) things have given God opportunities again and again to show Himself faithful, not just to our little family, but to people all over the world. It is an exciting story, and we are honored to tell it. We also love the chance to thank Southern Baptists all over the U.S. for giving to Lottie Moon and the Cooperative Program, the mechanisms our denomination uses to fund our ministry overseas. We will be doing a lot of that in the next two months, and we're so excited to be able to do that. We are headed out this morning to St. Johns county, where we'll be speaking at a missions conference for the next two days spread out all over the St. Johns Baptist Association. While I know I will be tired by the time we arrive home Sunday night, I am very excited about the chance to tell His story to more people.

Work is fine. I'm so grateful for the job and the steady income it's providing. And I, of course, love to teach. But it's clear to me that my career as a teacher does not have the hold on me it used to have. I'm enjoying myself, I'm loving kids, I'm loving the chance to talk about great books and writing and grammar, but it isn't an enticement for me to stay on this side of the pond like we thought it would be. I prayed and prayed about taking the job, because I was worried (along with Marc and our closest friends) that Marc would never get me back to the mission field. But it has not been that way at all. I'm enjoying it, I'm grateful for it, but I definitely have a sense that I don't fit in that world very well anymore. People are very nice and gracious to me, but I'm definitely an outsider in a way that I wasn't before. And, of course, in three years the school has changed a great deal. I don't know all that many people. So I go, I teach my classes, I do my best to love kids, and then I go home and live my "real" life.

Other than that, life just goes on. We are filling out paperwork to return to the field, working on getting medical clearance for us and the kids, and trying to take every opportunity to do fun stuff together. We are not quite sure where we are heading back to, and that's a long story that I won't get into, but we like the different options we've been given. We are praying through them, listening to the different voices around us, and waiting for God to reveal His perfect plan. One thing I have definitely learned in the last three years is that I would rather follow His plan in every situation. His best is always better than whatever plan I concoct on my own. And He is so faithful to reveal Himself and His plan if we just listen. So we're living our life, going to our speaking engagements, and having a lot of fun...but always with an ear to the ground to see what God may be telling us about what is next.

So that's it. The whole story of our life in America. Okay, probably not the whole story, but the amount of the story I have time to write about this morning. We are glad to be here, but we miss being there. We desperately miss our friends overseas, American, Czech and Russian. We are thrilled to give witness to how God has been at work, but we are also looking forward to the way God will continue to be at work in our lives and in the nations. And we are honored that God chose our little pot-of-clay family to be witnesses to what He is doing around the world. So there you go, Ada. There's your update. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that no matter how ordinary your life may seem, you are constantly aware of the way God is at work, and that you are looking forward to a couple of days of doing nothing but talking about God's work in your life, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Super Weird

Sarah Beth in her dorm room.

The three of us at the cafe downstairs in the student center.

John did not want to say goodbye. Not even a little.

So with joy--with joy!--you sell it all, you abandon it all. Why? Because you have found something worth losing everything else for. --David Platt, Radical

It would be quite the understatement to say that a lot has changed since the last time I wrote on this blog. Hmmm...we have returned to America, Sarah Beth has gone to college, I have gone back to teaching full-time, the kids are in public school, and Marc is touring the country talking to churches. A little different than it looked a month ago. A month ago, I was sweating through the hottest summer I have ever experienced. Now, I'm wearing a sweater all the time, because I can't get used to the air conditioning. A month ago, it took me an hour to make even the simplest dinner, because everything had to be made from scratch. Now, I'm reveling in the glory that is the American mix. :)

We arrived in the States to find that our church had gone completely overboard preparing a home for us. I'm not kidding--I have yet to do an actual grocery run. I've bought a few things here and there, but mostly, we are still living on food provided by our church. Unbelievable. And from time to time, we are the recipients of drive by giftings, where we arrive home to find something in a bag on the door for us. So sweet. What a pleasure and a joy to be truly loved by a church. A tremendous blessing to us, and a sweet refreshment to our worn-out spirits.

The kids are adjusting. Hannah is doing extremely well, loving school, enjoying friends, inviting everyone she meets to church. John is having a harder time. A new country--one he really doesn't remember much--a big church--different from the 20 Russians we went to church with overseas--and a school where everyone has been together for a long time are making his adjustment a little harder. He'll get there eventually, but it's not an easy time right now. Of course, his sissy leaving and his Daddy being gone haven't made his transition any easier, but such is life.

Marc is doing well, I think, enjoying his time in churches talking about Engage Russia. He misses being overseas, but he's enjoying the time with friends and family here, too. He has lots of interesting opportunities in front of him, and I know he's really excited about what the next year holds and the chance he will have to make connections with churches all over the States. Plus, he's Marc...he's generally a happy sort of fella. God bless him.

As for me...hmmmm...life is weird. It's good. It's positive. But it's super weird. The only thing that isn't weird for me is teaching, which is simply how I engage the world around me. I am really enjoying the time with kids, and I have several situations where I can see God's hand in having me in a particular kid's life for this season. Church is great, though I only know about sixty percent of the people in our church now. I'm singing in the choir, which is fun and wonderful for me. I go to Sunday School, I sing, I go to church, I go to choir practice...I have essentially slipped back into my old life. Super weird.

Because here's the thing...it's my old life, but I'm not my old self. The lens with which I view the world has drastically changed. I have drastically changed in a thousand tangible and intangible ways over the last three years. I cannot--and don't want to--be the person I was before. It's impossible. So I am a new me who looks like the old me living in the old me's life. Like I said, super weird.

So what does that mean? I don't know. Not a clue. Still clearly feel God's call upon my life and the life of my family. Still believe we are destined to be overseas. Still in love with a place that is not my own. Still completely sold on the idea that no matter what we are asked to give up, no matter what we are asked to sacrifice or turn our back on...a life serving Jesus wherever He leads is totally worth it. Crazy? Maybe. But knowing what I know now about truly following Him...I wouldn't choose any other life, no matter how easy that life seems. Not for all the mixes in the world.

Well, time for bed. I am getting up at 4:30 every morning, and it's taking its toll. The good news is that Marc will be home tomorrow, God willing and the creek don't rise. :) I am definitely ready to see my man! Wherever you are in the world, I pray that your life is not super weird, that the God of the universe is in control even if your life is super weird, and that your husband is coming home from Texas tomorrow, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Faithful

Hannah working this week at English camp. She did an incredible job working with around 30 children doing crafts. So proud of our girl!

Possibly my favorite picture of John and Laini ever taken. This typifies their relationship--in a room full of people, I am pretty sure they only see each other. My children are blessed with incredible friends.

Blessed be the LORD, for He has made marvelous His lovingkindness to me in a besieged city. Psalm 31:21

I have dreaded writing this blog, and so I have put it off until now, our last full day on the field for this term. I got very little sleep last night, and I finally got up around 5 this morning and have been puttering around the house. Our bags are packed (except the laundry that is drying on the racks), the house is clean (except for under the stove and vacuuming), and we have very little left to do here, except the thing we dread the most--saying goodbye.

I could write a whole blog about leaving. I could tell you about the tears shed, how we dread saying goodbye to the Lewises, to Plzen, to the Czech Republic, to this life for the next year. I could write about how excited we are to be going to America, to our family, to our friends, to our church...and all the hellos we are looking forward to saying in the next weeks and months. Those would both be easy topics to write about this morning. But the purpose of this blog has always been to give you a glimpse not of the called, but of the One who calls. And so, this morning's blog is about the ways He has been faithful to me in the last three years on the mission field.

• My children: The hardest thing I have ever done is watch my children struggle through the last three years. No mother anywhere treasures the suffering of her child. My children have had great experiences on the mission field, but they have also had difficult, scary, and heartbreaking experiences on the mission field. They have made tremendous friendships, but they have also had to say goodbye to those friends again and again and again. They have lived in two cultures that are very, very different from their own. They have been yelled at by complete strangers on the street for not wearing a hat or not being bundled enough against the cold. They have had to learn one beastly Slavic language only to move to a place where the Slavic language spoken is just enough different to be incomprehensible. It's been hard, and they have struggled. But they have also thrived. Sarah Beth discovered a facility with language that shocked us all--she picked up tons of Russian just by listening on the metro and walking in parks. Hannah discovered she was a natural musician, even though her music teacher didn't speak English, and she took lessons in Russian and Czech. John John discovered that his love for all humankind is a pretty good way to make friends in spite of language differences. And their Mom discovered that no matter how much I love my kids...God loves them so much more. He is beyond trustworthy. He is beyond merciful. He is beyond compassionate.

• My husband: Let me say this about Marc--he never struggled to be on the field. Never. He struggled to watch the rest of us struggle, because he loves us, and he wants us to be happy. But he was a pig in slop from the moment he set foot on Russian soil. Never in my life have I witnessed anyone fit into a job more perfectly than Marc fit into being a missionary. He worried about the language, but he speaks and understands far better than I do, and certainly far better than he should with as much language training as he received. He discovered a love for anthropology and ethnography that surprised him. And his passionate love for the "little nations"--ethnic groups within the many republics that comprise the Russian Federation--is contagious. I dare you to talk to him about the Chuvash and then try not to pray for them. It's impossible. His passion for the unreached people groups of Russia is inspiring. He makes me want to move to some tiny village and pump my own water in order to reach them. (That's a running joke with my missionary friends...Marc is, at some point, going to convince me to move somewhere where I have an outhouse and have to pump my own water. Wait and see.) When we are gathered at the throne, and every nation and tribe and tongue is there, including the Chuvash, the Mordvin, the Karellian...I firmly believe some will be there because God chose an ordinary video guy from Middleburg, Florida, and then showed him he is more than just Luke telling Paul's story...he's Paul, too.

• My family: Want to know people who are excited about missions? Talk to my parents and sisters. No one, and I mean NO ONE could have had a more supportive immediate family than mine. They have visited, sent packages, called, sent cards, talked on skype, and just generally been the most incredible support system anyone could have. When volunteer teams come to work with us, inevitably someone asks, "And what do your parents think about you being a missionary?" I always say the same thing. I've said it for a while now, and it's absolutely true. I am 100% the person my parents raised me to be. I'm sure they would have loved nothing better than if I had stayed in Middleburg and they could have been at everything for my kids. But never once have they complained. Never. I'm sure they would love for us to return somewhere a little easier than Russia. But they have never been anything but supportive. And when the time came for us to go, they never suggested that God should send somebody else's child and not theirs. It has been hard being away from them, and when I see my Momma and Daddy tomorrow night, I'm pretty sure there will be some jumping up and down, but just like God loves my children, He loves my parents and sisters far more than I can even comprehend.
  

• Myself: It is not possible with mere words to explain every way in which God has been faithful to show me who I really am in Him. I will say that I am not returning to Florida the same person I left. I have never been more miserable than I was the first few months we were in Moscow. I really think I cried most nights. I missed my family and friends and church, but most of all, I missed my life. I missed being "someone." I missed being confident. I missed knowing how to buy meat. :) But even in my misery, I knew that I was not alone. Standing at my kitchen window, looking out at the city, I knew He was with me. And it wasn't because I felt something or had some emotional response to something...I knew because He promised He would be and because He is always true to His promises. He said He would never leave me nor forsake me...and He never did. And no matter how I felt, no matter what my emotions told me...I knew He was true and faithful. And even in things I haven't liked or enjoyed--conflicts, moving, saying goodbye again and again, struggling with my weight, missing my family--even in these things, He has been faithful. Faithful to show me who I am in Him. Faithful to show me that He is in control. Faithful to love me even when I am not very lovable. And faithful to grow in me a love and a passion for the people to whom He has called me. He is faithful, faithful, faithful. I will proclaim it until my dying breath. He is faithful.
  

And so begins our last day of this term. I could write so much more--about priceless friendships, precious colleagues, and beloved national partners. About people we pray for daily to come to know the Lord. About people we will miss terribly. But it all comes back to the same thing...He is faithful and compassionate and merciful beyond measure. He has loved me so much that there is no way to describe it adequately. And so, as I prepare my heart to climb aboard a jet in the morning and set foot on American soil for the first time in a long time, I am so thankful for the experiences and relationships and joy that He has given me in the last three years. And I am thankful for the struggles and difficulties and heartbreak of the last three years. And above all, I am thankful for a God who has so passionately pursued every part of me. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know how faithful our God is from your own experience, and that you are almost ready to fly home, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Finding the secret place

Hannah with her pal, Beary Bear. He was a gift from her good friend, Robert.

Me and the Han on Red Square. She doesn't quite look like she did when we left the States three years ago. We've decided to invest in a dungeon for both our girls. You think that'll work?

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness; that my soul may sing praise to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever. Psalm 30:11-12

I only have a couple of minutes this morning, but I thought an update was in order. We leave the Czech Republic two weeks from today for the States, and we are deep into packing and chaos. :) Actually, at this point it's going pretty well, so the chaos is at a minimum. If we could get the temperature to cool down a bit, that would help. However, that isn't going to happen this week, so no use complaining about it. Suffice to say that it's a little bit like living in a sauna.

I had an interesting experience last night. I was looking through some things on a flash drive and found all of my writing for our original IMB application. Wow--was that an interesting read! Some of it tickled me a little...some of it made me teary. All of it made me stand in awe at the way God has worked in my life and in the life of our family in the last three years. So much of what He has done in my life and in my walk with Him has been about learning to rest in Him, to let myself reside in what the psalmist calls "the secret place." For me, that has meant learning to have a quietness in my quiet time, to sit and listen, to pay more attention to what He's saying and doing than in what I'm requesting from Him. You know where I discovered the secret place? In my kitchen in Moscow. Staring out at that city, knowing I could not put into words my anguish for myself, for my children, and for those we were there to minister to--just sitting and looking out the window--that's where I learned about the secret place of God. I'm not sure I could have learned that in a comfortable place for me. Maybe you can. I'm definitely not admonishing everyone who reads this to head overseas in order to really know God, because one thing I've learned is that how God is at work in me is not always how He is at work in someone else. For me it was necessary for God to pull me out of my comfort zone and teach me in a place where I--literally--could not depend on myself. Only in Him, only in His path for my life--only in the secret place is there contentment and joy and success. I learned that at my kitchen table in Moscow.

I'm thankful for the hardness of the last three years. Nothing about our time on the field has been easy or come easily. Language, culture, homeschooling...none of that has been an easy fit for me. (Not true for Marc--give him some totems, below-freezing temps, and a Russian village where you have to pump your own water and he's like a pig in slop.) But it's been in the struggle, in the times where I simply did not know where to turn or what to do or how to act that God has shown Himself completely enough. Enough for me. Enough for my marriage. Enough for my kids. I love my friends on the field, and I adore my friends and family at home, but if that was stripped away from me, I know that He is still enough. Everything else is just my cup running over with the blessings of a God who loves me beyond my comprehension. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you have found God's secret place, that you know that He is completely enough for you, and that you are taking two little people to DinoPark today, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Home

In front of the Pushkin statue on Old Arbat in Moscow. We don't study Pushkin much in the States, but Russians consider him one of their greatest writers. When people discover that I am a literature teacher, they always ask, "And do you know our Pushkin?" I do, now. :)

Kids in the Metro. Unless you've been there, you cannot appreciate how far underground the metro actually is. If I thought about it much, it would probably make me uneasy. I don't think about it.

This is for Hannah. It's a Russian pun--The words at the top (Kartofel Free) are referring to the Potatoheads running free in the picture, but it's also how you say french fries. Get it? Get it? Okay, maybe it's only funny in Russian.

So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It's your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it. Colossians 3 The Message

I am enjoying a second cup of coffee and some quiet while the kids are still asleep upstairs. Marc is traveling in Russia on another Engage Russia trip, and Hannah and John and I are here in Czech Republic. I have to admit to you that in the summer, when it is light outside until nearly midnight, I'm not very good at getting my kids to bed at any kind of decent hour, and I let them sleep late. It's not as bad in Czech Republic as Russia, but it's still pretty light outside late at night. Last night we stayed up late playing Phase Ten and laughing at each other. It was the first time John played our family's favorite card game, and he did pretty well. It will be fun for all of us to be able to play when we're back together.

Our time in Russia was unbelievably wonderful. We loved hearing a language we could understand and speak. We loved being with friends, both in Moscow and from all over the Russian-speaking world as our cluster had its general meeting. We loved the time to sing in English, the time to learn from a great speaker, the time to share stories of God working in ways we couldn't have imagined if we had tried. We loved being...home.

Have you ever gone on a wonderful trip to a beautiful place, but sighed in relief when you came around the corner and saw your own house, sitting there waiting for you to return? That's how coming back to Russia was for us. The Czech Republic is a beautiful place. The people are wonderful, kind, generous, and very forgiving of my lack of facility with their language. We live in a great house in a city we love. But this is not home. Russia is home. We are looking forward to going to the States for a year and seeing people we love and miss. But Russia is home. Everywhere we went, God confirmed that for us. Four hours of Russian with our language teacher left our brains complete mush, but left our hearts encouraged and filled. Time with our friend, Sergei, when we gave him a book and a copy of the Jesus film as a birthday gift, left us filled with gratitude for this Chuvash man God put in our hearts six months before our work with the Chuvash began. Time with our American friends left us encouraged and edified. Watching Hannah, who struggled so hard for so long to be in Russia, speak Russian and be so content and comfortable there left us amazed at a God who loves our children so much more than we can even comprehend. You get the idea...God showed us so many ways in which He is and has been at work in our lives.

As we made our way around the city doing various things, it was clear to me that God had given us this time to reconfirm in our hearts our commitment and love for Russia. Everywhere we went, it seemed, Marc had a "guy." A matroyshka guy at the souvenir park, a shashlik (Russian barbecue) guy, our favorite waitress at TGIFriday's. We didn't make it to the southern end of the orange line to see our fruit ladies (they sold us fruit on our nightly walks and became our friends), but to see the look in the faces of people as they recognized us, were glad to see us...what a sweet gift from the Lord. To see Hannah and our language teacher, Irina, arm in arm chatting with one another, to watch Irina's face as John ran to her...precious to us. Even down to the Russian language, which I feared I had completely lost while in the Czech Republic, God found ways to encourage us. I bought a couple of t-shirts for Hannah, and the lady who sold them to me asked me why I spoke such good Russian. Now, let me make it clear that I speak terrible Russian, but just being understood is enough to encourage me. And somehow, God had used my time in Czech Republic to strengthen my Russian. If you can figure that out, more power to you, because I can't. But I'm oh, so grateful.

And so, in all things, we give thanks. We give thanks for wonderful friends, for music and teaching and preaching, for movements of God across the Russian-speaking peoples. We give thanks for things we don't understand, for decisions we must make, for friends who praise God in the midst of difficulty. We give thanks for our children's friendships, for people to miss while we are gone, for new friendships we will cultivate when we return. We give thanks for some difficulties at passport control in Moscow, for the ticket counter lady who was suspicious of our passports and visas (and for enough Russian to understand her), for the people on the bus who would not help with our bags, for a long trip back home without Daddy. We give thanks for our time left in Plzen, for our relationships here, for the chance to teach three more Bible lessons at Bible study, for our relationships at church. And we give thanks that in 32 days we will be on American soil, for time with our parents, for our church who is providing a place for us to live, for time with Sarah Beth before we take her to college. Even in the hard, even in the bittersweet, in all things, we give thanks.

And now, it's time to get to work. So many things to sort through, so many things to give away, so many decisions about what to take home. Our clothes are so pitiful that very little will make it into a suitcase headed to America--we will definitely be the ragamuffin family when we get off the plane! We took our very best to Russia, and even that isn't in great shape. But it's okay, because clothes are just clothes. Things are just things. The important things we are bringing back to America are intangibles--memories, relationships, time with God...those things pack pretty light. :) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know where home really is, and that you are going to beat your 13 and 9-year-old in Phase 10 today, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Pulling Weeds

The original city wall of Plzen, built (I think) in 1295. There is only a small section of it left.

The tower of St. Bart's Cathedral on the square offers a pretty amazing view of our city. Here is the Big Synagogue of Plzen. Isn't our city beautiful?!

But sin didn't, and doesn't, have a chance in competition with the aggressive forgiveness we call grace. When it's sin versus grace, grace wins hands down. Romans 5, The Message

I want to acknowledge up front that this post was almost required of me by my friend, Frances Courson. When I announced on Facebook that I was looking forward to a day of pulling weeds in my back yard, her comment was that she was sure I would make that into some sort of spiritual application on my blog. Certainly, I cannot just ignore that challenge. :) Of course, there are some pretty easy spiritual applications to make from weed pulling, aren't there? I'm sure none of these conclusions is going to be something new and miraculous to you, but maybe you, like I, can use a good reminder that sometimes we have to pull the weeds in our lives. So here are my spiritual applications from the back-breaking work of pulling weeds.

• Sometimes, the big weeds have tiny little roots and are easier to get rid of than we think they're going to be. There were prickly weeds all over my yard, and some of them were huge. I'm talking HUGE (I thought they were plants at first. Don't judge me.) But when I went to pull them out, they just came out. What I had pictured as the torturous job of pulling them, something I dreaded and had put off, wasn't that big a deal. Isn't that true with things we think are huge and difficult to overcome? Sometimes those things turn out to be no big deal, easily handled. When I went to Russia, the darkness (the literal darkness) overwhelmed me. It became to me this huge monster that I could not live with, but could not get rid of, either. But because of my pride (another weed of mine, by the way), I would not ask for help until I was absolutely desperate. When I DID ask for help, I was given a lamp specifically designed for people who have trouble with the darkness. Poof. Problem fixed. Never had a problem with it again. Big weed, little teeny roots.
  

• Some of the tiny little weeds had deep, deep roots and were difficult to pull. The opposite is also true. Some of the little grass that I pulled from the flower beds had roots down to China and were really hard to get rid of. Hmmmm...can you think of anything in your life that looks like a little problem, but turns into a BIG, deep-rooted problem that you really have to work at fixing? I can. For me, insecurity is the ugly little grass that continually pops up in my flower bed. While I present to the world at large the face of someone who is confident in who she is, it's a complete lie. Given half a moment to pop up, insecurity whispers in my ear at every turn. You know what it whispers? "They don't like you." It doesn't matter who the 'they' is, I am pretty sure that anyone who knows me probably doesn't like me all that much. And given a whole second to take hold, this little grass completely takes over my flower bed. I am not good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, thin enough (NEVER thin enough), spiritual enough....the list goes on and on and on. Whatever the adjective, I am not enough of it, or I'm too much of it. Too emotional, too dramatic, too demonstrative...you get the idea. The roots on this little weed can strangle me.
  
• I cannot pull them all at once. I have to do a section at a time, or I am overwhelmed and give up. Ever listened to a sermon and just decided to completely change everything about yourself in one fell swoop? I have. I think we all have, if we're honest. How did that go for you? In my experience, it doesn't go all that well. For me (and I'm not making a universal statement here--I'm talking about only for me), real change in my life is gradual, little baby steps. When I decide to completely change this or that, I usually fail. But when I decide to let God change things (as opposed to me forcing them to change) and then really pay attention, I can see things changing around me and in me. And then I can move on to the next change.
• My back yard doesn't have to look like the neighbor's. It has to look like mine. Some of my neighbors have beautifully landscaped yards. Some don't. Mine is somewhere in the middle of that. I only have 55 days left here, and I don't want to invest tons of money in plants, etc., but I want it to look nice, both for my neighbors and for my landlord, who will need to rent this place when we're gone. I want to make my yard the best it can be, but I don't have to make it like someone else's. I have spent way too much time on the field (and in life) comparing myself to others and always finding myself lacking. A perfect example is my weight. For the most part, people with my company are pretty thin, because they have to be--we are self-insured and have weight requirements because of that. I lost a lot of weight to come to the field, but when I arrived, I was still one of the heaviest people there. And I've struggled from day one with my weight. I will be going back to Weight Watchers the second I step foot on American soil, because I've put on weight and I can't seem to get it off, no matter what I do. So to me, weight has become a huge monster in my life. And I tend to think that anyone who doesn't struggle with it like I do isn't struggling with anything. They are perfect, they lead perfect lives, have perfect marriages, perfect children, perfect everything. Now, we all know that's a lie, right? Nobody anywhere is leading a perfect life. But when I compare my life to others, I am doing myself (and them) a disservice. God didn't call me to be anyone else. He called me to be Kellye. And Kellye struggles with weight. But I don't struggle with an abusive background or a terrible childhood or a family who doesn't want me on the mission field. Everyone struggles with something. Comparing myself to others...a waste of my time and theirs.

So there you go, Frances. Spiritual applications from pulling weeds. By the way--I'm still not finished pulling them. It keeps raining. They keep sprouting up in places I'm not expecting them. Yeah, yeah...another application. I'll let you all make that one on your own. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are daily pulling up the weeds in your life, and that you are going to your favorite place on earth in a week, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

A challenge to churches

Me and the Han at the Prague Zoo. Do you think the church will let us install a dungeon in the mission house? Because I think we may need one.

Han and Marc. This shows you a lot about Han's personality. I'll just leave it at that.

"Look among the nations! Observe! Be astonished! Wonder! Because I am doing something in your days--you would not believe if you were told." Habakkuk 1:5

These are dark, dark days at the Hooks house. No, I'm not talking about our darling Sarah Beth's absence. No, I'm not talking about the financial stresses of living on the mission field. No, I'm not talking about the loneliness of being away from friends and family. What is it, you ask? What has caused this dismal gloom? I am out of ranch dressing mix, onion soup mix, and Italian dressing mix, and I am nearly out of fat-free flavored coffee creamer and Crystal Light raspberry lemonade mix. Sob. Pardon me. I need to pull myself together.

Of course, I'm joking. Though we are out of those things, one of the nice things about living in Czech Republic is that while it's nice to have those things, there are plenty of good things here that we can easily get. Not necessarily substitutes, but things with which we can easily live. Our life here is a good one, an enjoyable one. And so, though we love ranch dressing, we'll likely survive its absence from our shelves. We've also been incredibly blessed to have so many people--friends, family, Sunday School classes--who have sent us so much over the last three years, giving us a little taste of home. That means a great deal in the middle of a dark, cold winter.

I've been thinking a great deal about churches lately. Not just churches in general, but specifically how Southern Baptist churches support their missionaries. If you are at all clued in to Southern Baptist life, you know that there are many changes in the works regarding how we cooperate to do ministry. The IMB, our company, is the largest mission-sending organization in the world, and that's a pretty hefty expense. In these times of economic downturn, everyone is looking for new and innovative ways to fund missions, both inside and outside the U.S. I'm not qualified to make any comments on the Cooperative Program (beyond that I am for it) or "Great Commission Giving" (beyond that I am for it). I am not an expert in how things should be done, and that's not really what I want to write about, anyway. What I want to talk about is how individual churches "do" missions.

This week, we have a volunteer team from FBC Forney, Texas. Great, sweet folks. We have thoroughly enjoyed our time with them. (They are having a Tex-Mex night tomorrow at English club...we are especially excited about that!) I went with them yesterday to a gymnasium (a kind of school here) to spend a couple of hours with some Czech middle schoolers. Unlike the U.S., where a mission team certainly could not come into a public school and talk about God, Czechs have seemingly no problem with that. (Interesting, since CZ is one of the most atheistic nations on earth.) It was a great, great time--so much fun for me, for whom a room full of kids is paradise on earth. But what struck me afterward was not just that it was fun, but that it was a paradigm shift (I'm taking that from Marc, by the way) in how Southern Baptists do missions.

FBC Forney is not a newcomer to Plzen. They have sent teams again and again and again. They work in the schools here, and they have created lasting relationships with people that have allowed them access to places the ordinary person would not have. Those relationships have also created ways for Larry and Melissa to have relationships with people they might not otherwise know. I hope you are noticing a word that I keep repeating--relationships. In our part of the world (I would argue this is true everywhere), relationships are everything in terms of church planting and discipleship. Long years of communism have created a lack of trust in everything for the people of the former Soviet Union. Relationships make it possible for us to earn the right to tell people about Jesus and have them listen. And relationships are not always easy to build and maintain. So what FBC Forney is doing by coming back again and again is invaluable to the work in this city. Their commitment is furthering the work of church planting in this city.

So how is that a paradigm shift? Because FBC Forney is not paying us to be the missions professionals. They aren't putting money in the plate every week and thinking that absolves them of any further work. They aren't taking a missions "vacation," either. Their teams don't go somewhere different every year, seeing the world and spreading Jesus at the same time. They are committed to this city. That's not to say it's the only place in the world they are committed to, but they are committed to this city. They are here to help the people on the ground, certainly, and they are great about bringing things we can use for ministry. But I'm pretty sure that if something happens and there is no one in this city from our company...they will still be here. Because they have committed to this place. And that commitment is working.

Other churches have these kinds of relationships, certainly. Our church, FBC Middleburg, Florida, has a long-standing relationship with an area in Brazil. We send teams every year, making relationships that further the gospel. FBC Allen, Texas, (which we consider our second home church) has a relationship in Cheboksary, Russia--a place where we have no personnel. They are working with a Baptist church there and a wonderful pastor--Sasha Franchuk--to whom they have committed. But for many Baptist churches, putting their money in the offering plate every week is as far as their missions involvement goes. And not only is that not a Biblical view of missions (the Great Commission doesn't say "pay missionaries to go into the world"--it says "YOU go"), those churches are missing out on a front row seat for the great, amazing, unbelievable things God is doing all over the world.

So here is my challenge to you and to your church: pick a place. There is no shortage of places in the world where they need to hear the gospel. Pick one. And then commit to it. Commit to believers already there, to missions personnel on the ground, to yourselves that you will do whatever it takes to see God's word spread in that place. If you can't personally go, help fund someone from your church. Send ministry materials to the people already on the ground. (You can't imagine how much that means.) Assign times to pray weekly for that place and those people. And go. Go, go, go, go. Not once. Not twice. Go a lot. Have a team there several times a year. And watch what happens. Because when God says to look at the nations and wonder at what He is doing...you will not be watching from a far off place. You'll be there. You might be cold or wet or hot or hungry...but you'll be where God is at work. And I promise you this--you'll never be the same. Never.

I'd better run. Today is a busy day for us--we have so much to get done before we leave for the States July 26th. Packing, paperwork, trips...so much to check off our to-do list. But we'll get it done. We might be a little crazy getting it done, but we'll finish everything. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are listening to the voice of God calling you to love someplace that is not your home, and that you are NOT out of ranch dressing mix, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Saying yes

I especially like Zachary and Sarah Beth's expressions here. I think they tell a tale.

The "normal" picture of the Plzen Six.

This was taken October, 2008. It gives you a little idea of how much our kids have changed over their time on the field. John and Laini were probably building a fort when this was taken.

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. I Corinthians 10:31

Well, for those of you who read this regularly, I want you to know that we survived Sarah Beth's leaving pretty well. Sunday was awful, because the dread of her leaving was so terrible. But when I woke Monday morning, I had a sense of peace and calm. She was ready. And interestingly, so were we. Of course, I've talked to her every day, and I'm thoroughly enjoying how much she is enjoying herself. Who wouldn't want to listen to their kid have fun?! She is loving being home, enjoying family, enjoying American food, and getting excited about the future. And though we miss her, we are determined to enjoy our time here, too, to be all here for this moment. There is a fine line between anticipating the future and living in it instead of in the present. We are trying to walk the right side of that line.

Our time here continues to wind down. It's an odd sensation, really, to think about going home. My life is here. Thinking about my life being in Florida for a while is strange to me. Oh, I'm looking forward to it--I am a girl who needs to see my Momma and Daddy and sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins--but it's kind of unreal to me right now. And to be honest, I've been so wrapped up in what's next for us--in terms of our missionary life--that Florida has just been something I've been unable to comprehend. Our future looms on the horizon, but it's a pretty fuzzy picture at the moment. It comes a little more into focus every day, but I'm still not able to totally make it out. And if you know me, you know that is making me a little crazy. Uncertainty is not something I'm great at handling. I'm a checklist-loving, type-A gal. Not having a lock on what's next...well, it can make Kellye a cranky girl.

So why not just stay in Florida? There is life there, work there, family there. My sister asked me if it wouldn't be really hard to return to the field after living in the States. I replied that I thought it would, but I couldn't imagine not returning. I've thought about that conversation all week. Why come back? We've sacrificed. We've "done our time." We've sat through three years of church services we barely understood (and at first, didn't understand at all). We've learned another language, ministered to people, known some hardship. Why not stay in Florida? I like Florida. I like English. I like my job and my family and my church in Florida. I like who I am in Florida. So why not stay there?

Here's my only answer--we are compelled by a holy God to be here. And maybe when we knew Him less, we could have ignored that. Maybe we could have said no to that compulsion. But after having a front row seat for the amazing works of our amazing God for three years...how could we ignore Him now? Our life the last three years has not always been comfortable, has not always been easy...but in every challenge, in every moment, He has been there. On dark Moscow nights, when my soul cried out to Him, He was there. When my precious friend died unexpectedly, He was there. When I realized how sick John was in January, He was there. When we moved to Plzen, He was there. When Sarah Beth's heart was broken, He was there. And yes, when we watched her walk through passport control with a little grin and a wave on Monday, He was there, too. In the triumphs, in the failures, through laughter and tears...He was there. He promised He would never leave me nor forsake me, and He has been faithful to that promise. He has never left. Never. And all He asks in return is my obedience. That's a pretty simple request from the God of the Universe. I cannot imagine saying no. So even though the picture of our future is still kind of fuzzy, I am content that the God who has been there will continue to be there, that He will continue to be faithful, that He will continue to carve out for us a life that is far beyond what I could even dream for myself and my family.

Well, I should run. John is roaming around aimlessly while I write this--never a good thing. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that whatever God asks you to do today, you will simply say 'yes,' and that the sun is starting to shine in your part of the world, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

God's Masterpiece

Sarah Beth with Aunt Dalese and Aunt Melinda. Precious, priceless women who have invested in her life all year. So thankful for these ladies!

Uncle Larry and Aunt Melissa with SB. You know those few people in your life who love your kid, not just because they've seen her at her best, but because they also know her at her worst and love her anyway? These are those people.

Sarah Beth with her Reegan. This is a sweet relationship. Reegan told her last night, "I love your celebration." Precious girl.

For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them. Ephesians 2:10

Okay, I don't think it's a good sign that I have already cried just putting captions on the pictures. I'm going to confess to you--I'm a big, weepy mess. I managed to get through my part of graduation without crying until the end, but then I sat in the back and cried through the rest of it. It was, by far, the sweetest celebration I have ever been a part of, and there aren't enough thank you notes in the world to thank the people who made it possible. I think both Eva and Sarah Beth had a wonderful, special night. After dinner, when we were all mulling around and talking on the street, I noticed that both girls had such a sweet expression, so clearly grateful for all that people had said and done. It was a great night, one I certainly won't forget.

As you can imagine, with Sarah Beth graduating last night and leaving on Monday for Florida (can you hear my parents cheering in the background?), I have been thinking a lot about the life she has led here, about raising kids--especially about raising kids on the mission field. I have long worried that the sacrifices our kids have made to have this life are too much to ask of them. I think that's normal. Sarah Beth doesn't get to go to prom. Her senior trip is with me in December or early January (New York City!!). Three of her four years of high school have been home school, not something she would have chosen. Some days, when I am allowing doubts to make their way in, those things seem so important to me, so monumentally important that I wonder if it's all been worth it.

But then, I look at the person Sarah Beth has become, and I don't wonder anymore. When we first knew God was asking us to move overseas, Sarah Beth was 13. When she found out what we were contemplating (she overheard a conversation), she locked herself in the bathroom and screamed for a while. Okay, not a while. Hours. She was pretty upset. But gradually, and mostly because we just left her alone about it, she started to be okay with it. Not great, by any stretch. But okay. She had the power, because of her age, to stop us from being hired by the IMB. (She had a card with a phone number on it, and she could call at any time and stop the process.) She never did. Instead, she chose to fully embrace her new life--finishing 9th grade early and spending a couple of months in Prague, living with Jerry and Tina Barnwell--and off we went to Moscow. All along the way, in good times and in bad, she has NEVER made us feel guilty for the sacrifices she has made. And she has turned from that self-absorbed 13-year-old into an 18-year-old woman of whom I am so proud. Some things I'm particularly proud of:

• Her relationships with her missionary aunts and uncles. I looked around that room and saw so many people who have invested so much in her, people who have laughed with her and loved her so much, who have listened to her, comforted her, worried about her, poured themselves into her. As she was opening gifts, such sweet things from all over Europe, I couldn't help thinking about two things that she considers precious because someone special gave them to her--her "Old Russian" ring that her Aunt Teri gave her for her 16th birthday, and her beating stick that Uncle Larry carved for her at FPO (so she could beat the boys off!)...she has had that stick in her room the entire time she's lived in Europe. Know why? Because Uncle Larry loves her, and she knows it. Larry and Melissa gave her cake decorating lessons for graduation, and she was so thrilled, not just because she really wanted cake decorating lessons, but because to be known so well by someone is so encouraging. "Do they know me, or what?" she said as she talked about how excited she was. Yes, SB, they definitely know you.
  
• Her toughness. I'm going to be honest--if you're at church and SB elbows you out of the way to get a seat in a particular pew...it's because she's practiced on the Moscow Metro. :) Of course, that's not the kind of toughness I mean. (She will elbow you, though. You'd better just let her have the seat!) Life in Europe has not always been easy. My kids literally did walk a mile in the snow uphill both ways in Moscow. My Florida girl has learned to endure the ice, snow, and cold, which she hates. More importantly, she has learned about weathering the parts of life that are not so much fun. The last year has been pretty hard...she broke out in hives the day we moved to Prague and had them every day in some form until we moved to Plzen. She has been dreadfully lonely at times. She has had some heartbreaking things happen. But she's gotten through it, and she's done so with some grace. I know that there will be tough times ahead, certainly, but I think she knows that she and God can get through anything.
  
• Her sense of "the least of these." If you are an underdog, Sarah Beth is your biggest fan. If you are a drunk on the metro, passed out from last night's binge, Sarah Beth is so sad for you. If you are an orphan in some African village, Sarah Beth loves you and wants to bake you cookies. Sarah Beth's sense of Christianity is not about using particular words or listening to particular music or wearing particular t-shirts. It's about reaching out to those who Jesus would reach out to, offering them a hand to help them up, loving the unlovable. Sarah Beth cannot decide between majoring in social work and political science and international relations. Know why? Because Sarah Beth knows her faith can be a tool not just to make some church a better place, but to make the world a better place.
  

There is so much more I could write about her. She is funny and kind, she loves animals, she would give you her Harry Potter books if you needed them, she loves her grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins, she is cute, Russian Baptist boys adore her (I had to put that one in...it's a running joke), she loves old movies, she dances in her room with the door locked to relieve tension, and she knows just about every show tune that's ever been written and freely sings them all over the house. And here's the one that kills me--she is ready. She's ready to be in the States without us. She is ready to fly from my little nest that I've constructed. And so, I guess, I am ready, too. I can assure you that doesn't mean the next few days won't be tear-filled, because I've already sobbed my way through writing this. But I know that it's time. And frankly, she's so excited and happy that it's hard not to be excited and happy for her...even if I'm smiling through some tears.

Well, I'm headed off to make some breakfast and start cleaning this house. Today is an easy day for us, not really much on the schedule. Tomorrow, Larry and the kids will come over for a farewell party (Melissa is at a retreat with some ladies from her church), and Sunday will be her last Russian church service, at least for a while. On Monday, we'll get up early and take her to the airport, where the folks who have known her the longest--the Barnwells, who she loves and adores so much--will meet us and help us say goodbye. Then it will be on to the next three months before we come back to Florida, too. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are encouraged that, just like He has done and is continuing to do in Sarah Beth's life, God is daily making those you love into His masterpiece, and that your whole house smells good from your daughter's graduation flowers, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Running a three-legged race all by myself

I love this picture. Hannah and her Daddy on Easter Sunday, 2010.

"So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matthew 6:34

One of my all-time favorite books is Daphne duMaurier's Rebecca. Sarah Beth loves it, too, and we both loved the creepy (and kind of cheesy) black and white movie. Every once in a while, I'll look at her and say, "I dreamt last night of Manderlay," and do my weird, creepy, villainess-in-the-forties-movies look. It cracks her up. And maybe worries her a little. But definitely cracks her up. This morning, though, I would have to say to her, "I dreamt last night night of a classroom," because I spent the entire night dreaming about teaching. And I woke up feeling pretty good, to be honest. Little in life is more relaxing or refreshing to me than a good day teaching. So it was good that I was dreaming of a classroom, but it was also bad. Because here is the deal: I am running a three-legged race all by myself. I have one foot here in Plzen, one foot in Moscow, and another foot in the States. And since physical grace is not exactly my forte, this is a disaster waiting to happen.

We have around 100 days left in our term. On July 26th, we will head back to the States. (Two days before our 20th anniversary...what a present!) I want you to think well of me, but I have to be honest--it's hard to concentrate on the here and now when I'm that close to seeing my Momma and Daddy and Aunt and Uncle and sisters and friends...you get the idea. Now don't get me wrong--God offers plenty of reminders that I am here and I need to be all here...just yesterday, I saw a Czech friend at the music school where Hannah takes guitar, and I stopped and chatted with her for a while...reminding me that there are still things to do here, relationships to develop, etc. And we're trying to focus, we really are. We are diving in at the Russian-speaking church, trying to help Larry and Melissa when we can...but my mind keeps slipping away to the States. Last night, it wasn't a Czech or Russian classroom I was dreaming of--it was my old classroom in Florida. I have dreamed about church, about the beach, about swimming in my Aunt's pool, about eating my Uncle's gumbo...you name it, and if it is part of my old life, I have been dreaming about it. So one leg is here, one leg is in the States...and that's a pretty big divide to straddle.

But the other leg is in Moscow. Let's be clear--life in Moscow was much, much harder than life in Plzen. Winter from October to May, the lack of sunlight, long treks to school and the store in the freezing cold, a language which was daunting, never meeting anyone who spoke a word of English (or who would speak it), a culture which was incomprehensible to us at first...life in Moscow was not easy. And that doesn't even take into account the administrative/logistical/legal nightmare of visas and visa trips. Plzen is full of sunshine (though not today), close friends, friendly neighbors, and a back yard! So why do I constantly long for Moscow, for Russia? No idea, except that God's call on our hearts is specifically for a people and a place. Not that we don't have a passion for all people to know Christ, because we do. But Russia is home. Talk to us for any length of time, and you'll know that Russia is home. We're working hard to be open to all possibilities in front of us, we really are. But the more I pray for clarity, for vision, for what God wants...the more my heart longs for Russia.

So what's the result of this three-legged race? To be honest, it's put me in kind of a funk. (Credit goes to Marc, because funk is definitely his word.) Torn between wanting to finish well and just wanting to finish, I find myself a little blue. Not anything terrible. No need to call Member Care, for those of you in the company. Just a little blue. But blue or not, there is work to be done. And so today, I am concentrating on today. Not tomorrow or the next day, but today. And I have a feeling that the next 100 days are pretty much going to be that way--one day at a time.

Well, I promised my family banana muffins this morning, so I'd better get to it. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are only running with two legs this morning, and that there are banana muffins in your future, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

The value of great teachers

Sweet sisters. Time is flying...they were little girls yesterday.

John John is a genuinely sweet kid. I like him a lot.

I've been up since 4 this morning, and since I lost an hour of sleep, anyway, I'm pretty tired. (We spring forward two weeks later than the U.S. Don't ask--I don't know why.) Marc left early for the airport--he's flying to Moscow and St. Petersburg for a week--and once I'm up, I'm up. I'm hoping to get a nap later.

I've been thinking about teaching and teachers this week. My friend here had an interesting experience, where suddenly she was getting all these excited emails about her teaching in Czech schools. It came as a surprise to her, but when I thought about it, I wasn't really surprised that all these people would be excited about her coming to teach English in their schools. Of course, it's wonderful to have a native speaker teaching a language, and I've heard many complaints over the last year from folks who don't like that their kids' English teacher doesn't really know all that much English. And I've watched her teach, and she's a good teacher. She knows what she's doing. But I think what makes her exciting to people is the obvious love and care she shows to her students. You cannot replace that as a teaching tool. People are drawn to someone who genuinely cares about them.

I've also been thinking about teaching and teachers because the Florida legislature has passed a piece of legislation that ties teacher pay to student performance on standardized testing. Now, I'm not a particularly political person...well, that's not really true...I'm not a publicly political person. I don't often make political statements or support a particular candidate publicly, mostly because I got into the habit of keeping that stuff to myself when I taught in public schools, but also because I can't imagine that anybody would care what I think about politics. But I'm going to say it aloud: This is a VERY BAD piece of legislation. VERY BAD. AWFUL. TERRIBLE. And here's why: if 50% of their pay is tied to how students do on standardized tests, who in their right mind is going to want to teach those kids who don't do well on tests? Who is going to teach the kids who need the best teachers? Those students who sit on the lowest quartile, who are hard to improve because they are 16 and don't speak a word of English...who will teach them? And since when did the value of a teacher rest on the results of a standardized test?

I have had the great joy of teaching for many, many years. I have taught every kind of kid there is, from the highly gifted to the highly remedial. From the kid who is headed to the Ivy League to the kid who can't spell Ivy League. In every kid I've taught, even the ones who were "bad" in terms of behavior and grades, there was a redeeming something. There is something to love in every child, whether they can perform on a standardized test or not. And here's the really important thing: If I had never taught anyone but those who would make me look good on a test, I would have missed out on some of the best moments of my teaching career. Because you know what? Those kids who succeed on every standardized test? They would have succeeded without me. With some exceptions, those kids have lots of encouragement and lots of folks in their corner. But those kids who don't normally succeed on a test? They could use a good coach, someone who thinks they can do something worthwhile, contribute to society, be good citizens, whether or not they can do algebra or figure out the tone of a piece of writing.

My own children have benefited so much from great teachers, people who saw something in them that was worth loving. Sarah Beth would not have made it through 3rd grade without Kim Miskowski as her teacher. With a terribly sick mother and a baby brother she didn't know if she'd ever see, Sarah Beth's 3rd grade shoulders bore too much weight. But Kim was there and helped her through every step of the way. She found a way to show her love for a frightened little girl, and in doing that, found a way to help her do well in school. Hannah found so much love and comfort in Sarah Clark, her music and science teacher last year, who helped her through the transition of being in Moscow. Without Sarah's influence, without her love and caring, I'm not sure Hannah would have survived what was a very rough year for her. And there are no words for how much Natalie Richardson, John's second grade teacher, did for him. Natalie managed to see good in John even when he wasn't at his best. If Natalie said, "He's such a good kid," to me once, she said it a thousand times. Encouragement for him and for his Mom...that takes someone special. And what is the thread that ties together these three examples? None of them had anything to do with how my kids did on tests. Instead, my kids benefited from the intangibles that make a great teacher--that extra something that is special about the people who love our children. You can't measure that on a test, and you can't really quantify its importance.

My former boss once told me that it's all about the teacher standing in the classroom. Administrators can make the way as best they can given their resources, and counselors can help guide students, but at the end of the day, it's all about the teacher. And in my experience, it's the intangibles that make great teachers great. It's the love, the caring, the enthusiasm, the interest in students...those are the things that make us all look back fondly at those teachers we point to as the ones who made a difference to us. The Miskowskis and Clarks and Richardsons of the teaching world are worth their weight in gold. If we could quantify what they bring to the classroom, then I would believe in merit pay. But until then, to think that we can put into a formula some test scores and come up with what a teacher is worth...that's pretty ridiculous.

Well, I suppose I should get up and moving. I need to do spring cleaning while Marc is gone, but I think that can wait until another day. Today I am looking forward to time with my kiddos and Bible study with friends. Wherever you are in the world, I challenge you to take time today to thank a teacher who was instrumental in your life (and call your representative and tell him/her you are NOT happy with this new legislation if you live in Florida), and I hope your husband is bringing you Russian chocolate in a week, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye