Hannah working at the U.N. Bazaar in December. I'm not sure what the face is about.
Hannah and her friends working the White Elephant Sale at the Bazaar.
The sign outside the entrance. The bazaar benefits women's and children's charities the U.N. supports around the world.So we will be brought one by one to the testing place, and we may never know when we are there. At that testing place there will be no dozen possible choices for us; just one and an alternative, but our whole future will be conditioned by the choice we make. --A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God
I'm going to be honest--I'm on cup of coffee number 3, and I'm enjoying sitting on my living room couch (in Marc's spot, which is akin to Sheldon's in Big Bang Theory), sipping my coffee and having some quiet. I've gotten the kids out the door to school successfully, and (unfortunately) Marc is asleep after a terrible night of feeling really sick. I medicated him about 4a.m., and he finally went to sleep. Poor guy. But the apartment is quiet (even the kids next door just left for school), and I have a few minutes to think and write before I tackle the unenviable job of reorganizing my kitchen.
You might be thinking to yourself, "Golly, Kellye. You just moved there in October and you're already reorganizing?" Well, you make a fair point there. However, because we got here in October and the kids went immediately to school, I pretty much just threw my kitchen stuff wherever it would fit. I didn't really have much of a plan, especially about food storage. So, before I start language school on February sixth and become totally nuts trying to learn German, I thought it important to impose some kind of systemic change on the kitchen. Because guys...it's a mess. Not dirty. Just completely disorganized. I can't stand it. So we went yesterday and bought shelves at IKEA for the sunroom, and I think I'm going to store those things I don't use very often (esp. appliances) there in order to free up some room. Pray for me. It's a big, big job.
But that's not really what I wanted to write about. I was going to John's doctor last night to pick up a prescription, and it was the first time I'd gone on foot, giving me lots of time to think. (Sometimes that's a good thing. Sometimes...well, you know.) I was making the change from one line of the Ubahn to another, and I had never done that particular change before. But it didn't phase me a bit to do something new, go someplace I'd never gone, and it really made me start thinking about all the things I've learned living in Europe. I thought that might be an interesting thing to share with you, so here goes. Some, by the way, are not very deep. I didn't want you to be surprised. :)
--How to navigate any place. Even if I don't read/speak/understand the language, I can pretty much follow/figure out any sign there is. I actually realized this when I was in London, got us lost, and then figured out how to get back to where we wanted to be. Best of all, my kids have learned this lesson. I have to believe that will be a benefit to them in whatever life they choose.
--The joys of IKEA. I'd never been to an IKEA in my life until I moved to Europe. Everything in one place at decent prices is just more happiness that I can explain. Plus, you have to love any place on earth you can still get a hot dog and drink for less than $2.
--The fun of new foods. Every place we've lived has had something new that our family has really liked and added to the lineup of tacos and spaghetti that tend to populate our dinner menus. (Less spaghetti now that we work at eating lower carbs) In Russia, we learned to love the blini. In Czech Republic, it was fried cheese. (No, it's not like mozzarella sticks. It's WAY better.) In Austria, it's schnitzel. There is a lot of fun to be had just trying new stuff. Plus, it often gives us some of the best stories. (Remember the time Dad ate reindeer tongue pizza? YUCK!)
--Humility. Feel really good about how smart you are? Move somewhere you don't speak the language. Try to communicate. Then try to learn the language. See how that feeling smart thing works out for you.
--Gratefulness for the small stuff. Our lives are populated every day by small blessings. My favorite creamer from America. Flannel sheets my parents sent. Bath and Body Works lotions and spray. Cushy socks my friend sent. Little notes and cards from kids at church. A kind email. Someone just remembering we're here and checking on us. In a life that is sometimes overwhelmingly stressful, it's very often the little blessings that keep us from the tipping point where we just can't take it anymore.
--Letting go. Urgh. As Sarah Beth would say, "I'm working on it." This is a toughy for me, especially when something has been done to someone I love. It's hard, isn't it? But holding on to hurts is an insidious tool of the enemy. It's not big. It's not showy. It's the inner working of the heart, so who can know? But I know that holding on to things is a path to bitterness and ugliness that, frankly, ruins lives and careers. I'm not interested in it. But it's definitely an in-process thing for me.
--Being where we are. I've talked about missing Russia, and I do miss Russia. I miss Russia and Russians and my American friends in Russia. And there is nothing inherently wrong with that. But I'm here. In Austria. Not in Russia. And if I let my fond feelings for my time in Russia keep me from planting roots here, from learning this language, from understanding and embracing this culture, or from loving these people, then I've taken a drastic step in the wrong direction in terms of God's plan for my life. Because I'm here. So we can still be the 'Russia guys,' but we better work hard to also be the 'Austria guys.'
--Relying only on Him. Tozer talks about the spiritual disease of self-confidence. My self-confidence was stripped away in Russia. Smile. Sometimes a terrible road leads you somewhere beautiful. It's not that I feel terrible about myself, or think I'm incapable of making my own way. But I've tasted and seen what complete reliance on a loving, compassionate Father can bring, and it beats relying on myself any day of the week. So I plan and I work the plan (my family will smile when they read that, because I ALWAYS say that when we go somewhere), but when it doesn't work out, I know He has it. Because He always has it. Sometimes I forget. But I always come back to it eventually--without Him, my life is a mess. With Him, my life is the most amazing adventure. I'll choose the adventure. :)
Well, I hear stirring. I'm hoping that means he's miraculously healed. Or at least that he can move without hurting. Wherever you are in the world, I challenge you to think through what you've learned and what you're learning, and that your kitchen doesn't need reorganizing. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
I'm going to be honest--I'm on cup of coffee number 3, and I'm enjoying sitting on my living room couch (in Marc's spot, which is akin to Sheldon's in Big Bang Theory), sipping my coffee and having some quiet. I've gotten the kids out the door to school successfully, and (unfortunately) Marc is asleep after a terrible night of feeling really sick. I medicated him about 4a.m., and he finally went to sleep. Poor guy. But the apartment is quiet (even the kids next door just left for school), and I have a few minutes to think and write before I tackle the unenviable job of reorganizing my kitchen.
You might be thinking to yourself, "Golly, Kellye. You just moved there in October and you're already reorganizing?" Well, you make a fair point there. However, because we got here in October and the kids went immediately to school, I pretty much just threw my kitchen stuff wherever it would fit. I didn't really have much of a plan, especially about food storage. So, before I start language school on February sixth and become totally nuts trying to learn German, I thought it important to impose some kind of systemic change on the kitchen. Because guys...it's a mess. Not dirty. Just completely disorganized. I can't stand it. So we went yesterday and bought shelves at IKEA for the sunroom, and I think I'm going to store those things I don't use very often (esp. appliances) there in order to free up some room. Pray for me. It's a big, big job.
But that's not really what I wanted to write about. I was going to John's doctor last night to pick up a prescription, and it was the first time I'd gone on foot, giving me lots of time to think. (Sometimes that's a good thing. Sometimes...well, you know.) I was making the change from one line of the Ubahn to another, and I had never done that particular change before. But it didn't phase me a bit to do something new, go someplace I'd never gone, and it really made me start thinking about all the things I've learned living in Europe. I thought that might be an interesting thing to share with you, so here goes. Some, by the way, are not very deep. I didn't want you to be surprised. :)
--How to navigate any place. Even if I don't read/speak/understand the language, I can pretty much follow/figure out any sign there is. I actually realized this when I was in London, got us lost, and then figured out how to get back to where we wanted to be. Best of all, my kids have learned this lesson. I have to believe that will be a benefit to them in whatever life they choose.
--The joys of IKEA. I'd never been to an IKEA in my life until I moved to Europe. Everything in one place at decent prices is just more happiness that I can explain. Plus, you have to love any place on earth you can still get a hot dog and drink for less than $2.
--The fun of new foods. Every place we've lived has had something new that our family has really liked and added to the lineup of tacos and spaghetti that tend to populate our dinner menus. (Less spaghetti now that we work at eating lower carbs) In Russia, we learned to love the blini. In Czech Republic, it was fried cheese. (No, it's not like mozzarella sticks. It's WAY better.) In Austria, it's schnitzel. There is a lot of fun to be had just trying new stuff. Plus, it often gives us some of the best stories. (Remember the time Dad ate reindeer tongue pizza? YUCK!)
--Humility. Feel really good about how smart you are? Move somewhere you don't speak the language. Try to communicate. Then try to learn the language. See how that feeling smart thing works out for you.
--Gratefulness for the small stuff. Our lives are populated every day by small blessings. My favorite creamer from America. Flannel sheets my parents sent. Bath and Body Works lotions and spray. Cushy socks my friend sent. Little notes and cards from kids at church. A kind email. Someone just remembering we're here and checking on us. In a life that is sometimes overwhelmingly stressful, it's very often the little blessings that keep us from the tipping point where we just can't take it anymore.
--Letting go. Urgh. As Sarah Beth would say, "I'm working on it." This is a toughy for me, especially when something has been done to someone I love. It's hard, isn't it? But holding on to hurts is an insidious tool of the enemy. It's not big. It's not showy. It's the inner working of the heart, so who can know? But I know that holding on to things is a path to bitterness and ugliness that, frankly, ruins lives and careers. I'm not interested in it. But it's definitely an in-process thing for me.
--Being where we are. I've talked about missing Russia, and I do miss Russia. I miss Russia and Russians and my American friends in Russia. And there is nothing inherently wrong with that. But I'm here. In Austria. Not in Russia. And if I let my fond feelings for my time in Russia keep me from planting roots here, from learning this language, from understanding and embracing this culture, or from loving these people, then I've taken a drastic step in the wrong direction in terms of God's plan for my life. Because I'm here. So we can still be the 'Russia guys,' but we better work hard to also be the 'Austria guys.'
--Relying only on Him. Tozer talks about the spiritual disease of self-confidence. My self-confidence was stripped away in Russia. Smile. Sometimes a terrible road leads you somewhere beautiful. It's not that I feel terrible about myself, or think I'm incapable of making my own way. But I've tasted and seen what complete reliance on a loving, compassionate Father can bring, and it beats relying on myself any day of the week. So I plan and I work the plan (my family will smile when they read that, because I ALWAYS say that when we go somewhere), but when it doesn't work out, I know He has it. Because He always has it. Sometimes I forget. But I always come back to it eventually--without Him, my life is a mess. With Him, my life is the most amazing adventure. I'll choose the adventure. :)
Well, I hear stirring. I'm hoping that means he's miraculously healed. Or at least that he can move without hurting. Wherever you are in the world, I challenge you to think through what you've learned and what you're learning, and that your kitchen doesn't need reorganizing. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
1 comment:
So, the whole paragraph on relying on Him echos my heart ... word for word! I may quote you ... at least print this out and put it on my Fridge! So glad you put into words what my heart feels ... I SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo get the plan ... working the plan thing!!!
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