The God of all Encouragement

The flyer advertising the first Russian-language group meeting

Our pastor, Lars Heinrich (right), brings greetings to the group from our church, Baptistengemeinde MOGA.

Our friend, Peter, brings one of the messages to the Russian-speaking group during our first meeting.

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

I am alone this morning--John is at school, Hannah is babysitting for a local church's Bible study, and Marc is in the States for his first two of three Engage Sochi trainings. So I'm taking a break from the stacks of papers I have divided around the room that represent our reapplication for Austrian visas, and I am determined to finish this blog. Here's the weird thing: I've written this four times now, and I finally had to step away from it. The only thing that has remained the same is the pictures and their captions. I want to describe this weekend, this time of real encouragement, and instead what I found myself doing was concentrating pretty hard on what has been difficult about Vienna for our family. It's okay to be real and vulnerable and admit to you that Vienna has been a difficult transition for us, and I've done that. What is not okay--ever, frankly--is to wallow in that difficulty. And after an amazing weekend and then the rush to get Marc packed and out the door, when things slowed down and I sat down to write, I found myself wallowing. After a long, dark season, we are seeing some light at the end of the transition tunnel, and I refuse to turn my back on that light. For one thing, it's not healthy to do that. And for another thing, I am so delighted to see some light that I feel like jumping up and down with glee. So, I'm refusing to give into the enemy of my soul, who wants nothing more than for me to fall into discouragement and despair and take my family with me. So--no to that.

The verse above has long been my life verse. It applied to Moscow, because I felt besieged in Moscow, and I felt Moscow's besieged nature. There is real darkness there. There are real difficulties. (Not to mention language, culture, etc., that proved beastly for me. Or the cold. Oh, the cold.)  When I came to Vienna, and even for the first few months we lived here, I felt like it probably didn't fit as my life verse, anymore. Because to be honest, Vienna living is not that difficult. Oh, we take public transportation most of the time, and I don't have a dryer for the clothes, and of course, we are having to learn another language...but those things seem like normal life to us. I don't think about walking places or allowing a day for clothes to dry, and I have a dishwasher, so I feel like I'm living high on the hog, as my grandmother would say. We have a lovely home, in a beautiful neighborhood, and Austrians are truly wonderful. So, how does the adjective 'besieged' fit beautiful, lovely Vienna? Well, it does. In a post-modern, post-God Europe, the cities are besieged. There is real darkness here. There is real oppression. When you look beyond the beauty of the cathedrals, you notice that most of the people there are tourists. Not that there isn't an evangelical community here, because there is, but the numbers of evangelical Christians in Europe are pretty tiny. So Vienna is as besieged as Moscow, but in a totally different--and maybe a more insidious--way. Austria's--and Vienna's--veneer of loveliness cannot mask the truth: the enemy has gained a lot of territory here. It is besieged on all sides.

But our God--amazing, all-powerful, all-knowing--is the God of all encouragement. And what He has brought into our lives in terms of just encouraging us to run the race before us is amazing. So the besieged nature of Europe is not the point of the post. The difficulties of spreading the Gospel in Europe--not the point of the post. God's amazing faithfulness to meet us where we are and encourage our souls in ways that only He can--that's the point of the post. So here are the ways in which God encouraged us in the last few days:

• We had a visit from my youth minister from high school, Hal Herweck. Hal taught me how to do a Three Stooges impression, how to plan an event, how to be on time to an event (or get left at the gas station), and how to love the absolutely unlovable. Hal and his wife, Nancy, and his kids, Wendy and Trey, formed a great second family for me growing up, and I continue to be thankful for the influence they had on my life. So imagine the unbelievable joy of having one of my spiritual heroes show up in my city and listen for hours to the ways God is using our family right now. Unbelievable. That person who always thought you were more than you thought you were? Hal is that for me. And he reminded me that a life well-lived, lived for the sake of the Cross, is a life that leaves a legacy the world cannot take away. 
• We had a visit from dear friends and colleagues. They are funny and fun and some of our favorite people in this company. They have been in Europe a long time, and we love to hear their stories. And here is what time with them always reminds me: the people who last in this business are the people who endure in the knowledge that God is up to something big, no matter how circumstances look. They are the people who choose to laugh at the often weird life we lead. They are the folks who encourage others to hold on. 
• We attended our first Austrian baptism on Sunday. Amazing. AMAZING! Two teenaged girls were baptized, and the sermon was such that we could really understand it. (Though at one point I tried to persuade Han that our pastor was talking about Justin Bieber. She wasn't buying it.) The church was packed, and when the girls came out of the baptismal water, there was cheering!! Also, our pastor waded right into the water in his clothes. Hannah even took a picture of it. It was just a great service, and we were so encouraged by all the excitement surrounding their baptism.
• Our first meeting with native Russian speakers went very well. We had more than we thought we would, and they were mostly young people. What struck me about the meeting was how many people said they'd been praying for a Russian language service where they could worship God in their heart language. Isn't that like God? We're praying to start something, and they are praying for it to start. He'd already knitted our hearts together, and we hadn't even met. (By we, I mean a group led by a Russian-language pastor in Prague. We are so thrilled they asked our family to participate!) It wasn't just encouraging because people showed up and were enthusiastic. It was encouraging because it's always encouraging when we see God at work. And He was and is clearly at work here.  
• We are very encouraged about language, but in a really weird way. We aren't encouraged because Sunday was a great triumph where we functioned well in Russian and German. Because it wasn't. We struggled not to mix them up, and to come up with vocabulary in German, especially. So in lots of ways, it was really exhausting and frustrating. But...we could see glimmers of a time when it will still be exhausting, but probably not as frustrating. Does that make sense? I generally understood the sermons in both Russian and German. I generally understood the songs in Russian and German. I had trouble going between the two, but we left encouraged that there will come a day---with lots of diligence and work and practice on our parts in both languages--when we will be able to negotiate trilingualism. And that is just a testament to God's goodness, because as I grow older, I become more thoroughly convinced that I'm an idiot. 
• Our relationship with our Austrian church. I want to be very, very careful here. We have worked with a lot of churches overseas, and we have loved, loved, loved them all. We really, really have. And of course, we adore our home church in Middleburg, FL. But our Austrian church represents to us something we have not had overseas before--a true church home. I'm going to be honest--MOGA (our church) does not need us. We don't bring anything to the table they don't already have. They are missional, they are community oriented, they are reaching out to those around them. They don't need us. But we need them. In a season of true difficulty and real darkness, our church has been a light for us. They love us. They want us to be there. They welcome us. They make us speak German, when it would be easier for them to just speak English, since most of them do. One of my favorite moments on Sunday was when we were leaving the church to go meet our friends and bring them back for the Russian service in the afternoon, and I was stuck on the word, 'key,' in German. A kind man, seeing my frustration, said, "You can speak English if it will be easier for you." Immediately, one of my new friends said to him, "No. It's important she speak German." Then she turned to me, grabbed my hand, and said, "You speak good German. Just slow down. I can understand you." When we came back to church that afternoon, our pastor, Lars, had rolled up his sleeves and was mopping the floor to get our room ready for us. He has made us feel a part of the church, just as every member has done. When I think of MOGA, of God's goodness in helping us find them (from a list of churches we were given!), of our relationships that are developing there...well, I understand what Paul meant when he said, "I smile upon every remembrance of you." 

Is everything in Vienna perfect now? No. And if you find the perfect place, please let me know, because I want to get in on the ground floor of that venture and pad my retirement account. But if you've ever been through a difficult season, you know the joy that little glimmers of sunshine bring. And we are feeling more than glimmers of sunshine. In a besieged city like so many other besieged cities in Europe and all over the world, our huge God has scooped us up, shone some sunshine on our faces, and shown us how deep and wide and far His love for us really is. It's not an easy life--again, if you find an easy life, let me know--but it's the one He designed for us. And in moments of difficulty, when circumstances--good and bad--go far beyond our ability to understand them, we can rest in the comfort of the God who loves us, who is always at work, who wastes nothing, and who loves our besieged city enough to die for it. That is encouragement we can all grasp onto--whenever the need arises.

Well, the visa paperwork awaits. Oh, the joys of the visa application!!! But any paperwork is worth being in the smack-dab center of God's plan, and for our family, that means Vienna, Austria. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are living in the center of God's perfect plan for you, and that you are having tea with a friend in just a bit, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye