Walking across His painting

I don't know what I could say about this that would do it justice. God's handiwork is amazing.

Our mountain view from the boat

No matter where we go, He is already there.

Your lovingkindness, O LORD, extends to the heavens, Your faithfulness reaches to the skies. Your righteousness is like the mountains of God; Your judgments are like a great deep. O LORD, You preserve man and beast. How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God! And the children of men take refuge in the shadow of Your wings. Psalm 36: 5-7

I have a few (very few!) quiet moments this morning, so I thought I'd attempt to put in writing something about our trip to Mariazell in the Steiermark region of Austria. As you can see from the pictures, it is a truly beautiful place, nestled into the mountains, full of calm and peace and really kind people. (John did something--I don't remember what it was--and came back and said, "I love Austrians. They're so nice.") We have just enough German to be able to hold a conversation (a simple one!), and we practiced our German quite a bit. (I mispronounced the word for towel, and had to make the hand motions to explain. That's always fun.) Once you are outside the city, most people will want to speak German, and it's a great, great language exercise to do that. We also are watching the Euro2012 tournament (big news here, probably not in America), and we've laughed at how much the commentary in German is helping our language skills. We've watched every game so far, choosing teams to cheer for based on very, very loose criteria: we know someone there, it's a neighboring country, we speak the language--Ukraine and Germany are on our roster for this reason--or, of course, we love the country like it's our own--Russia got our most fervent support. It's been fun. We have a sticker book (okay, John has a sticker book), and it's fun to learn the names of the players. Our only problem with the German commentary came when they turned Russian names into German letters--what is that 'j' doing there, we kept asking--and when they interviewed our favorite Russian player--Arschavin--and he spoke Russian and then they dubbed it in German. That was a little too confusing for our already-addled brains, but we survived. :)

We went to Mariazell because we needed a retreat. We needed to be alone, outside the city, and talk and pray and figure out why we are so worn out. We also needed to laugh. And we did those things. We didn't hear God give us any big answers to the questions we're asking Him right now, but we did find rest in the shadow of His wings. We played cards, ate too much Schnitzel, swam, rode in a boat on an Alpen lake, ate ice cream that was far inferior to the ice cream shop in our neighborhood...it wasn't all serious. But some of it was. Before we all split up for the next month, we wanted to hear our children's hearts about some of the things going on with us since coming here. We wanted to come up with some "Hooks Family Values" and figure out what God might be doing in our lives here in Vienna. And I think we did do that. Mostly, we just talked and laughed. It was nice to laugh, to feel like ourselves, to play together.  If you didn't know, my kids will make you laugh until you cry. They are hilarious! And that Hooks guy is no slouch in the laughter department, either.

Most of the things we said to each other are, of course, too personal to share in this public forum. But one of the things Hannah said stuck with me through the entire trip. We were driving through the Alps (and feeling pretty carsick, frankly, from the twists and turns), when we came up over a hill and around a turn where we were presented with an incredible view. Rolling mountains, sunshine, lakes...it looked like something out of a book, not like real life. Yet there it was in front of us. We all went silent and just looked. Then Han said, "Isn't it amazing to think that we are walking across the picture God's been painting for the last two thousand years?" Nobody responded. John went back to his DS game, Hannah went back to sleep, and Marc and I just took in the scenery as we drove.

I've been turning over that statement for three days, now, and it's probably one of the most reassuring, comforting things I've heard in a while. Because we ARE walking across His painting. Not just because we live in this beautiful place He created and that we love, but because we are walking across His plan for this place and these people. And if He has a plan, then He knows. He knows how tired we are. He knows that we are homesick. He knows that we have questions. He knows about my Dad's health and how much that scared me. He knows how much we miss Sarah Beth. He knows. He knows. He knows. And just like the Alps don't move no matter what storm comes or how hard the wind blows, His love for us, for our little family (and yours!) never changes. It is steadfast. It is wherever we are. Russia. Czech Republic. Florida. Austria.  He who was and is and is to come has a plan. For me. For my family. For this city we love. For the nations. And He has invited us to walk across His plan. Us. I'll never get over it. He called us. Love so amazing, it leaves me breathless.

So we didn't make any life-changing decisions. We didn't hear thundering voices (we did hear thunder, though, and it was pretty cool). But we rested in the knowledge that He is God. He is trustworthy. He loves us beyond our ability to understand. And wherever we are, He is. That is pretty good news, my friends. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know that the Master of the Universe is there, too, and that you are cheering for Ukraine and England later tonight, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye