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