Picking up our cross and hauling it around

Try not to notice the messy desk. In the midst of language school, I have five million notecards and dictionaries in various spots on my desk. This is a small sculpture that Sarah Beth brought back from Uganda. It sits near my desk.

Then Jesus said to His disciples, "If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me. For whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it." Matthew 16:24-25

It's definitely Sunday morning--at nearly 8am, I'm the only one up in the apartment. Well, the cats are up, but they don't count. Mostly, they get up whenever I do and look pitiful until I feed them. :) Poor Marc has a terrible, nasty cold, and he ended up on the couch at some point in the evening, probably trying to keep himself semi-upright in order to quit coughing. Poor guy. Han and John are still snoozing away in their rooms--surprising for John, because he doesn't sleep with his shade pulled, and there is actually sunshine on that side of the apartment this morning.

I've been making my way through Matthew for quite some time. While Psalms is my book for the year, I'm also studying the gospels, beginning with Matthew. I'm a slow studier, pretty methodical in my system, and it takes quite a while to get through a book, including reading it through several times. I'm currently on my fifth reading of Matthew for this particular study. Every time I've been through it, this set of verses has caught my attention.

I think this aspect of Christianity--taking up the cross and following Jesus--is a difficult one, particularly for Americans. Self-sacrifice is not in our nature as people, is it? For example, I don't want my children to give up anything. I want them to have all the American things in life, plus be happy living in Europe. I want them to experience everything and always be happy. Don't you? Isn't that in our nature as parents? as people? But that's not what's in these verses. What is wrapped up in the middle of these verses is the idea of giving things up. Sometimes those things are actual things. Sometimes they're dreams or goals. Sometimes--and these are the hardest times--they are people and relationships.

It's been a rough couple of weeks for Hannah. Every negative thing in her life seems to be piling up at once. And this life as an MK is not an easy one. As she told me in the last couple of days, she wouldn't give it up for anything, but it's hard. Hard to say goodbye to grandparents and aunts and uncles in America. Hard to develop relationships here. Hard to balance school and "real life." Hard to forgive adults who promised to stay in contact but haven't. Hard to learn a new language and understand a new culture. Hard, hard, hard. But the tipping point for her, the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back this week--hard to be away from her sister.

If our family had to choose the thing we like least about our life overseas, it would be the distance between us and Sarah Beth. Easily. No question. And yes, she's in Arkansas and we live in Florida when we're there, and she's away from us. But that is not the same as being on a completely different continent. Not the same as having to figure out what time it is where she is in order not to call too early. Not the same as having an entire relationship via email and skype. Not the same, not the same, not the same. And we are blessed beyond measure to be that sweet family in the sculpture--arms around one another, closely tied together. We are not distant. We are not aloof. We are family in the absolute truest sense of the word. And I'm grateful for that, because I know that's not a given. I've seen the kind of families that speak once every two months--or sometimes not at all. Marc and I determined long ago what kind of family we wanted to be, and we've clung to that picture through good times and bad. And we've been blessed by years of happiness and laughter and phase 10 playing and general goofiness. And listen--we still have those things. I often wonder if our neighbors think we're crazy because they can hear us laughing through the dining room wall. But there is always someone missing.

It is, of course, the way it's supposed to be. We love our kids and train them to go into the world on their own. That's life. And we're very proud of the life Sarah Beth is making for herself, full of great relationships, a church she adores, and a career path that makes her passionate. We heartily approve of the direction her life is taking. But we miss her. It's part of the cross that we are being asked to take up during this season. And while we don't want to be away from her, we look at the incredible love God has showered on us as a family, and we pick up that cross and follow. Because in the face of His love and sacrifice for us, how could we do less?

Missing Sarah Beth is not the only cross we're picking up and hauling around Vienna right now. Certainly language school is a cross we're picking up. (Though I am really enjoying learning German...don't tell anyone, because it makes me sound kind of nerdy. Hey! Don't snicker!!) Figuring out new relationships, a new culture, and how to function in Austria are also things we're picking up here. Missing people, feeling forgotten sometimes...you get the idea. But here is the great news: we're not alone! If you're a real follower of Christ, there is something you're putting down to pick up your cross and follow Him. It's the way of this life. And the rewards of following Him--overwhelming love, joy, peace, contentment--far, far outweigh any burden He's asked us to take on in His name. And because we've been down this road before, we know that life settles down, the new place becomes home, relationships develop, ministry happens...and suddenly, you can't imagine being anywhere else, living any other life.

I don't know what your cross looks like. In my experience, the cross looks different for every believer. But I do know this--whatever you're being asked to abandon in order to pick it up, it's 100% worth it to follow Him. As much as we miss Sarah Beth, it's not a reason to leave this life we're called to. As rough as the last couple of weeks have been for Hannah, it's not a reason to leave this life we're called to. Sometimes what He calls us to do is just hang on, white-knuckle it until things get better. And in our experience, they do get better. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are enjoying a season of better, and that your church doesn't start until 4, so you have a lovely day of leisure ahead. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

I don't have to be happy, but it sure is nice.

I cannot help it: I just love this kitten. Natasha rules the apartment with her cuteness.

Seeing the people, He felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dispirited like sheep without a shepherd. Matthew 9:36

I don't know about your house, but the Hooks household has been very, very busy lately. Language school, regular school, musical practice, and just every day living have filled up our time lately. Add in a little sickness in the last week and a trip to the American consulate to renew passports and you've got a VERY busy family. It's not a bad kind of busy, but it is a very busy kind of busy at the moment. And I'm guessing that while I'm still in language school, it will remain that way. I'm not complaining, though. We actually like busy, at least most of the time. We can get grouchy if we don't have anything to do. :)

Vienna is a very busy city--except on Sundays. EVERYTHING is closed on Sundays. Our neighborhood tends to be very quiet, anyway, and on Sundays, it's nearly silent. Now, when it's warmer, I think there will be more hustle and bustle on Sundays, not because anything will be open, but because we live between the Old Danube and the New Danube, and there is a really wonderful "river life" when it's warm. Lots of people, kids playing, pick up soccer and basketball games, and just strolling along the river can be seen at almost any given moment when it's warmer. But right now, when it's still pretty cool outside, it's nice and quiet on Sundays.

As I gauge how we're doing, where we are in our transition into a new city, a new country, and a new language, it's really the little comments that are signposts to me, rather than the big, "how are we doing" discussions. It's the offhand remark, the one that comes from the subconscious before we really think about it, that tells me where we are. And I'm going to be honest--where we are is a pretty good place. Yes, there are still things that we don't fully "get" about Austrian life, and our language learning is hard and takes a lot of our time, but all in all, I think we're where we should be in terms of transition. We have a church, the kids are settled in school, we're learning the language, we are making Austrian friends, we're figuring out the food (that's more important than you might think)...all in all, we're doing pretty well. I hear it in our conversations, when comments are made that include long-term plans for Austria. You know, things like, "In a few years, we'll..." It doesn't really matter what follows that ellipses, because the important part of that is the "few years" part. As a family, we have been in limbo for a long time, and it's been really difficult. But more and more, I hear us all feeling settled. And what's really nice is that includes Sarah Beth, who is really making a life for herself back in the States. It's nice. It's a good feeling to be happy, and I'm really grateful for it.

But here's the thing: happiness is not a requirement of this Christian life. There have been times overseas that we were dreadfully unhappy. Ask my parents and sisters about conversations that they had with us over the years where they hung up the phone and immediately started praying. But just because we were unhappy did not mean we were out of God's will or His plan for our lives. When I look back on those times of unhappiness, I know for certain that they were times in which God showed Himself to us in amazing ways, times in which we grew as followers of Christ by leaps and bounds. I'm not the same person I was five years ago. There is no way to be that person. I have seen too much and experienced too much. I have watched my family struggle. I have struggled. And I'm grateful for the struggle and the unhappiness just as much as I'm thankful for this moment of real happiness for us. I know that both--the good times and the bad--are gifts from the Giver of all good things.

So why focus on unhappiness during this time when it isn't much a part of our lives? Because I know from experience that the life of a believer is filled with both good times and bad, seasons of happiness and seasons of unhappiness. And it's good to make a checkpoint, to look over our stones of remembrance in the good times and bad, because it's a good reminder that our God is faithful in all times. And that faithfulness, His compassion and lovingkindness and mercy toward us--that's what really matters. Not my happiness or unhappiness. It turns out that even this is all about Him. And we make a terrible mistake when we think that if we are unhappy, it's because God is not pleased with us for some reason, that we've stepped outside His plan for us. Of course, there are times when that's true, when we've made an error, sinned against Him in some way, and unhappiness is the consequence of that. But our God is so good that even in these circumstances, He can use it for our good. I'm so grateful, aren't you?

Well, time to get moving here in the Hooks household. We are trying to manage our mornings calmly, now that I have to leave pretty quickly after the kids in order to get to German class on time. On a side note to those of you in our hometown of Middleburg, Florida--we are praying from Austria for all of you as you celebrate the life of the detective killed on Thursday. We are proud of the compassion shown by our home church as they host the funeral this morning, and we are--as always--proud to be from Clay County. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are experiencing a season of happiness, too, and that you are NOT struggling with how to say north, south, east and west in whatever language you speak. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Why you should send your kid somewhere to do something for Him

Han and I went for coffee yesterday at a little cafe about two blocks from our house. We had a good time talking over her mission trip, and I did everything in German!!

This is for my Mom. I wanted her to know that Hannah's ratty, nasty, sad-looking blanket has officially been to Hungary, Croatia and Bosnia and survived (sort of) to tell the tale. I know she'll be relieved. :)

Boris was so happy to have Han home that he just sat there in her dirty clothes pile all day. I'm sure he was pretty ticked when it disappeared into the washer and then the drying rack!

Not to us, O LORD, not to us, but to Your name give glory because of Your lovingkindness, because of Your truth. Psalm 115:1

It must be Sunday morning, because it's almost 8am, and nobody in my house is moving, yet. Except, of course, me. The cats woke me up at 4am, and that was all she wrote. So I've been up for quite a while, chit-chatting with folks on the other side of the world as they got ready for sleep. The great news is that our church doesn't meet until 4p.m., so there will be time for a nap. Sundays are very leisurely for us, and since it's 9 degrees Fahrenheit outside, I'm pretty sure we won't be venturing out for anything except church.

Hannah and the team returned from Bosnia at about 9p.m. Friday night, and boy, were they tired!! She slept until 10 yesterday, then she wanted to go for coffee with me so she could talk about her trip. Since she's almost 15, and I've worked with teenagers most of my life, I'm so thankful that she still wants to have coffee time with Momma. By the way--nothing is more Viennese than coffee. There is Kaffeehaus Kultur here--coffeehouse culture. It's one of the things that Vienna is famous for, and one of my favorite things about living here. So we went and had coffee (and I ordered all auf Deutsch, thank you very much!), and she talked and talked and talked about what happened, what she learned, how God worked, and how the trip made her different. It was time well-spent for both of us.

I'm going to be honest--Han has been on plenty of mission trips, and I almost never give it a second thought. But this one, this one was different. First of all--Bosnia. I'm an 80s-90s girl, and just the name Bosnia conjures up all kinds of terrible images. So that was a little nerve-wracking for me. Then, of course, the weather. It was terrible. They were driving. We didn't hear from them for long stretches, hours and hours at a time. All the information we kept getting was that Bosnia was an absolute disaster, literally, that the government was telling people to stay in their houses if at all possible. And our kids were in a van. Driving in that weather. Scary. Scary. So this one was a bit harder for me to "let go and let God," if you will. But after listening to her talk, I was faced, once again, with the truth that our growth as believers comes in the hard times. And mission trips give us lots of opportunity for hard times to come.

Some of you may think we are crazy to let her galavant all over Europe, working without us and outside of our control. But I would say to you that the wonderful girl that Han is, the kindness and compassion and boldness for Christ that so many people remark on about her is a result of tough times. Han has known suffering for Christ. She has known sacrifice. She knows what it is to have cold feet--literally--for the sake of others knowing about Jesus. And that has been the refiner's fire for her. So much of the great stuff about Hannah could not have happened sitting comfortably in a church pew in Middleburg, Florida. So what has she gotten out of mission trips? Why should you strongly consider sending your child on one?

--Perspective. Hannah has had the chance to see real poverty. Sarah Beth served in Uganda at an orphanage. They have seen what it is to not have enough to eat, to be grateful for a loaf of bread and some cheese. The world is HUGE. It is full of need. And Jesus explicitly told us that we are to take care of need. So the one-two punch a mission trip brings in this area is that kids get the chance to see that they have an overabundance for which to be thankful, and they see the importance of fulfilling the edict to take care of the orphans and widows of the world.

--Being His hands. Our IMB theme this year has been "His Heart. His Hands. His Voice." Middle-class Americans get very little experience being those things. And it's not about just feeding the hungry. It's making relationships. It's doing things outside your comfort zone. It's eating stuff you probably think is yukky. (Ask SB about her experience eating goat!) It's learning to be all things to all people so that He is glorified and some might come to know Him.

--Knowing the real church. I posted a link about youth ministry on my wall this morning, and it's gotten quite a reaction. It's an indictment of some things that have become prevalent in youth ministry in America--and probably in a lot of adult ministry, too. We can get caught up very easily in the show of American church, can't we? About the production, about who will sing what solo, about looking 'cool' so people will want to come. And I understand that, and I also know that it comes from a place of wanting people to know Jesus. But it can also pull us way, way off course. Church overseas often looks far more like the 1st century than the 21st century. My children love being part of a small church that works to fulfill the mandates of what church should be. One of the things I loved hearing was from Hannah's friend, whose parents drove us home from the school Friday night. She remarked on how amazing it was to lead the service at a church in Croatia Sunday morning, because there was such a feeling of family and love and of really knowing one another. They shared in something special together, and it was more than just all speaking the same language and knowing the same songs and looking all alike. It was way beyond smoke machines and graphics. It was 7 kids and 3 adults, a guitar, some singing, and sharing the commonality of loving our Savior. Priceless.

--Real Prayer. When they got to Budapest, their leaders told them all to pray to see what they should do next. They all came up with the same answer--go on. Now, this Momma is a planner and so is her girl, so that was hard for Han. But hard times give our kids (and us!) a chance to know real prayer. Not just, "God bless us. God do this. God do that. Oh, and bless the missionaries." :) Real, honest to goodness, where-should-we-go and what-should-we-do prayer. All sought in the name of glorifying Him. You can't tell me that is not an experience that will serve Hannah well in her life. It is. It absolutely is.

--It's all about Him. Everything is His, and it's all about Him and His glory. It's not about whether or not you want to do something. In fact, it's not about you at all. American parents have made a drastic mistake in making our kids think that everything in life is about them, their needs, their desires, their schedules. It's not. And we do them a terrible disservice if we allow them to be centered on self, if we choose to make their lives easy. Events are fine and good--there's nothing wrong with summer camp and great Wednesday night services and Sunday School fellowships. But if there is never anything else, if church never becomes about service, about someone other than them, we've missed the mark with our kids. Because you know what those kids turn into? Adults who spend their whole lives thinking it's all about them. They populate our churches. They are the people who complain about the sermon, who say things like, "I just didn't get fed today," who make pastors so discouraged that they leave the pastorate. They are the people who post terrible, awful, rude political rants on facebook and then are nasty to anyone who disagrees with them. They are the people who do not make the world a better place for being in it. I have no interest in raising those people. I pray that my kids would love Jesus, would treasure His Word, and out of an overflow of their love for Him, would love the world around them. I pray for generations and generations who serve the living God, who show compassion to those they meet, who love mercy and walk humbly with their God. That only happens if it's all about Him.

I'm thankful this morning that the team arrived safely, that they had an amazing trip, that God showed up in really unexpected ways. And I'm thankful that my children have had the chance to know God in easy times and in hard, that they have had the opportunity to do hard things for His glory. It's taken me a while to get there, but I see every day the benefit of their times of struggle, and I'm grateful. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are heading to church this Sunday knowing that it's all about Him, and that you are looking forward to hearing your girl and her friends lead worship at church, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Skipping off to language school

This goofball is coming home from Bosnia today, and her Momma is VERY excited about it!!

Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart. Galatians 6:9

For those of you who have followed the Bosnia team saga with us, they are headed home today, so if you'd like to pray for safety in travel, that would be great. I can't wait to see our girl, to hear her stories of God at work, to marvel, once again, at the grace and mercy God has chosen to shower on our family by providing us opportunities to minister in His name. I think their trip did not turn out like what they'd planned--Bosnia was basically covered in snow with all the schools closed--but they managed to find work, nevertheless. I'm pretty sure that the moral of that story is that there is work to be done everywhere we look--and our plans are not always God's.

So we started language school this week. In case you're new to this blog, I will start out by saying that this is the second time we've done language learning, and it is not our favorite part of this life. We are approaching our mid-40s (very, very quickly!!), and trying to stuff another language into our already full brains is not an easy task. Learning Russian was one of the hardest things I have EVER done. Period. It basically stripped me of every bit of pride, because it was far harder for me than I thought it would be. The thought of learning another language was pretty rough for us when the team decided to relocate to Austria. I'm going to be honest--one of the reasons we wanted to go back to the Russian-speaking world was because we already spoke Russian. But here we are, in Austria, where they speak German, so off to German school we must go.

Let me be really clear here--Vienna is full of people who speak English. Our next-door neighbors speak perfect English (and no German). Our church is English-speaking. We could get by speaking only English. We could. But that is not our heart. We are here. Planted here. And we are absolutely determined to get German. To us, this is a moment in our career that is about being who God created us to be--even when being something else would be easier. This is our "test Me in this" moment--only God can make this happen.

I am taking class in the morning, and Marc is taking class in the afternoon. Marc is two classes ahead of me, and his class is very hard, because his "other language" (the language everybody speaks other than Deutsch) is Russian. So that is very confusing, especially because the teacher only speaks a little Russian, so she will say things to him and then have him translate for everyone else. Yikes. So Marc is kind of operating in three languages while he's trying to learn German. That's a lot. But he's making it. And, of course--what's better for Marc than a room full of Russian-speakers with whom to make relationships? :) We've been seeking a way into the Russian community here--who knows that this isn't it? I'm taking the very beginning German class, and I absolutely love it. It's hard, of course, to learn a new language, but my teacher is so positive and kind, and I really, really like the other people in my class. Of course, it doesn't hurt that I get to take class with my friend, Stacy, but I really like the other people, too. Our class is three hours long, and I haven't once thought time was dragging or that it was dull. She keeps a really quick pace, but I feel like so much is making sense to me that I haven't understood before, and that's really exciting for me. So it's--in a really strange way--kind of fun to learn and understand.

Have you ever been blessed with the opportunity to do something hard a second time? Have you ever been blessed with the chance to correct some mistakes you made the first time? That's what this is for me. When I learned Russian, I made several mistakes. First, I let myself be distracted by emotions--frustration, sadness, homesickness, etc. Then I failed to be as diligent as I should have been. I didn't want to listen to Russian radio, so I only did the minimum that was required of me. I didn't want to study those stupid flashcards every night for twenty minutes before bed, so I didn't. I relied on what I knew from past experience to be my academic ability. And my teacher would always say how well I was doing. But I knew in my heart that I was really struggling to understand. Finally, I was way too timid. Wayyyyyyyyy too timid. Our language teacher would call me a "malinki mouse" (a small mouse) when it came to speaking. I just didn't want to, because I didn't want to make mistakes. Marc, on the other hand, would just tromp right up to people and speak away, making all kinds of errors. But here's the thing--nobody cared about his errors. What people cared about (and still care about) was the heart that's behind wanting to learn somebody else's language. Marc speaks to Russians in Russian because he loves them. And they know that. He was willing to lay down his pride in order to communicate with the people God had called him to love. And the reward for that willingness is that Marc's Russian is far better than mine. I can read and write it all day, but I still struggle to speak and understand.

So German is my do-over. It's my chance to actually learn from my own mistakes. I have already forced myself to say things in the grocery store that I've learned in class. And you know what? I've gotten all kinds of encouragement as a reward for even that tiny bit of effort. Today, I'm labeling things in the house and practicing verbs. Every night, I'm studying flashcards. But above all, I'm putting into God's hands the worries about being wrong, about not being able to do this. Because, my friends, I've had the chance to watch Him at work, and I know for sure that He does not call us to things that He does not enable us to do. I'm not looking for something supernatural to happen (although, hey--if He wants to do that, I'm not opposed to it!), but I am looking for God to confirm the work of my hands to learn the heart language of the people who surround me.

Well, the big boy is up and wants his breakfast. (John, not Marc, in case you were wondering.) I'm baking cookies for the team's dinner tonight upon their return, and I've got to mop my floors. Oooooohhhhhh, my glamorous life. :) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are asking the God of the Universe to do something in your life that only He can do, and that your kid is coming home from Bosnia tonight, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Planting our Ebenezer in Budapest

My very best pal.

No matter what you call them, blini are Marc's favorite. These had curd cheese and cinnamon in them. Yummmmmm....

This is for Uncle Don and Aunt Diane: John enjoying his treats from Sochi. The bag is filled with what is basically a natural fruit roll up. Uncle Don and Aunt Diane brought them in December, and John loved them. They come in huge sheets, which I cut and roll up in foil to make a roll up. They are made from various fruits, but his favorites are apple and (believe it or not) prune.

In the light of the past the future is not doubtful. Since the same Almighty God fills the throne of power, we can with unhesitating confidence exult in our security for all time to come. --Charles Spurgeon

Marc will laugh when he reads that quote, or he'll sigh, or he'll just smile, because last night I had a complete breakdown in the kitchen over Hannah and her team and their struggle to get to Bosnia. We had not heard from them in many hours--just that the roads looked okay, so they were heading on--and my mind began to play tricks on me. I won't mention the scenes I pictured in my head, because that is simply an invitation for the enemy to set up shop, but I think if you're a parent, you can imagine. So I had a good cry, which Marc (in his very good nature) wisely avoided and made no comment on. Soon after, we got the news that they had stopped at the Croatian/Bosnian border and were spending the night, that the snow was terrible, but that they were all safe. My little sobfest looked a little silly, though God is the ultimate Father and has some experience in this department, so He also just let me cry. I slept well, not worrying about her, and I'm determined this morning not to worry, either, trusting in good leadership to make wise decisions, and a God for whom--as Marc just reminded me--none of this is a surprise. It's a great thing that what really upsets me doesn't phase him at all, and what he finds truly terrible is barely a blip on my screen. Otherwise, we'd generally be a disastrous mess.

And while I covet your prayers for Hannah and the team, that's not what this blog is about. We returned on Friday afternoon from a few days in Budapest, Hungary, and I got to thinking about all the great things a short vacation with just your spouse can do for your relationship, why it is worth the money and effort to get away with one another. Now, let me say that I know that this is a financial hardship for many, and certainly, we are not rolling in dough. But I got an incredible deal through Groupon, and this was Marc's Christmas present, so with help from friends who stayed at our house, we were able to make this happen.

Marriage is stressful. Until I met Marc, I'd honestly decided that I would just be single. Married with kids, frankly, did not sound all that great to me. But then I started dating him, and the world turned upside down. Suddenly, I couldn't imagine a universe in which I wasn't married to him, having oodles (well, maybe not oodles) of kids, and living happily-ever-after. But that isn't really what marriage is all about, is it? It's a partnership. A covenant. A vow. But it's also (if you do it right) a great, deep, enduring friendship. For us, that has certainly been the case. There is no question that Marc is my very, very best friend. He knows me. He likes me anyway. :) He's seen me at my best and my worst and the in-between that occupies 99% of the time. So when stressful, troubled times come, it is the friendship that carries us through. And a trip together, without the stresses or interrupters of children and homework and tests and projects and travel, reminds us of that deep friendship. Here are a few things a trip gives a couple a chance to do:

--Unwind with one another. Maybe your days are stress free and full of only really important things, but in my experience, it's the minutiae that'll kill you. It's who left their underwear on the floor or didn't put the cap on the toothpaste or forgot to hang their towel up to be reused. On big things, important, life-altering things, Marc and I are nearly always in agreement. We have rarely, in almost 21 years of marriage, disagreed about something huge. It's the little stuff. A trip gives you the chance to unwind from all that stuff and do absolutely whatever you want to do. We are both gigantic nerds, so we spent a lot of time at museums. Our favorite was the ethnographic museum, where they had a display of wooden Greek Catholic churches. C'mon. You have to admit that is kind of cool. Right? Oh, well...to each his own. :) But a trip allows you to forget the little stuff and do something FUN for a change.

--Talk. Really, really talk. The little stuff? It takes up almost all our talk time. The chance to sit at Starbucks and talk about what we think the future holds, what's next, where we are, how we're doing...priceless.

--Laugh. A lot. Though we have an ongoing feud about who is funnier--I think I am, and he thinks he is--the truth is that we absolutely make each other laugh. Nobody can make me "geezer laugh" as Hannah calls it quite like Marc. His cheesy jokes, his little commentary in museums...hilarious. And I'm going to be honest--we've not laughed a ton in Vienna. We laugh with the kids--our kids are really funny--but not a good, deep belly laugh. We did some belly laughing in Budapest, and it was good for what ails us.

--Dream. Not little ones. Big ones. And not just dreams for us and for our kids, but dreams for cities we love and that God has given us. Dreams about ministry, about the future, about what God has planned. After all, in a million years could we have dreamed the life we are so privileged to live now? No--but we did dream about more. And God has definitely, definitely provided more.

--Plant an Ebenezer stone. Here is where we have been. Here is where God has brought us. He was faithful there. He'll be faithful here. Caught up in the minutiae of life, it can be hard to remember where you've been and how far God has brought you. In our case, those stories almost always begin with an incident we both remember as though it were yesterday--a night in our pool, floating around after the kids had gone to bed, talking, dreaming...when Marc said to me, "I just feel like there is more for us than this. That God has more for us." That one conversation led to lots of praying, lots of studying, and a clear call on our lives that showed us what 'more' was going to look like for us and our kids. Time alone gave us the chance to rehash, to tell those stories to one another again. It gave us the chance to imagine God looking at us in the pool, listening to that conversation, and smiling as He looked at the path our lives were just about to take. The most soul-rejuvenating moments of our trip began with the phrase, "Remember when God...." He has never forsaken us. He has never deserted us. In the somewhat turbulent transition into Austria, it has been easy to overlook and forget what God has done, to feel alone, to be caught up in what we feel, in our emotions. That, my friends, is dangerous ground. It is a necessary thing to tell your stories to one another, to remind each other that our God IS greater, that no foe has ever succeeded against His will for us.

We had a wonderful, great, fun time. We were big nerds together, roaming museums and exclaiming over this cool find or that one. We enjoyed great food, including some yummy Hungarian goulash and real, honest-to-goodness Tex-Mex. Budapest was at the top of our must-see list, and we plan to go back with the kids this spring or summer. One whole side of Marc's family is from there, and it was really, really interesting and beautiful to imagine them walking the streets. But more than that, it was a great time of being together and encouraging one another as we head into language school and the stress we know it causes. Marc is both my beloved and my closest friend...what could possibly be better than time with him? Nothing. So I'm grateful on this very, very cold Vienna morning that God allowed us the time and resources to be able to escape the every day stresses of life for some relaxation and renewal. He is good and faithful in every detail of my life. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that your beloved is also your best friend, and that it is warm where you are. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye