Four little words

Marc and Nan at the Vienna Airport--we had a great week with her before she left for Bulgaria.

One of my favorite pictures from Sochi...why? Because we look like we have halos, and this is the only way I'm going to have a halo. :)

He is not here, for He has risen, just as He said. Matthew 28:6a

We are back in Vienna after a WONDERFUL meeting with colleagues in Great Britain. We had a really relaxed and fun time meeting some new folks and getting to see some folks we've known for quite a while. Especially great for Marc were several break out sessions that were focused on what he does, and when I found him recutting a video yesterday based on what he learned in one of those sessions, I knew the meeting had really had an impact on him. (He's usually too busy to go back and recut anything.) So we're really grateful for the time with colleagues, but also really happy to be home. Marc leaves again on Sunday for a week, but after that his travel schedule slows down a bit. Or at least that's the way it looks right now.

Last Sunday was an oddity in our lives, because it was Easter for everyone. Because we have so many friends who celebrate holidays on the Orthodox rather than the Western calendar, we generally celebrate both Christmas and Easter twice. But Western and Orthodox Easter fell on the same day this year. We were in London for a couple of days, and we watched the Easter sermon by the Archbishop of Canterbury. (We celebrated Easter early when Hannah was home for part of her spring break.) It was strange not to be in church on Easter Sunday, but it did give me the chance to really re-read the Easter story from all four Gospels. As with any really great story (and I'm not using story in a fictional sense, just in a sense of the telling of something that happened), the Easter story is one that shows me something new every time I read it. This year, what struck me most were four words that offer a great deal of hope and promise for those of us who believe.

For so many people I know, the last few months have been a season of deep heartbreak and real questioning of God. I'm not necessarily talking about those bad things that happen to us because we've done something. In our family, one of our 'Hooksisms' is that you get what you get and you don't throw a fit. (Hear that? That was all three of my kids rolling their eyes.) In other words, when you do something wrong, you take the consequences without whining about it. No, I'm talking about the things in life that blindside us. Things that cause us heartache and heartbreak, but that we didn't cause in any way. The death of my friend's daughter in a horrific car accident. The move to hospice for the wife of our youth pastor in the States. Other heartaches too personal to share publicly--don't we all have those? Where is God when these things happen? And how can we trust Him when we don't understand what He's doing? And how can we have faith when it seems He has deserted us?

I'm pretty sure that the disciples of Jesus felt the same way. After all, their Messiah, the person in whom they had put all their trust, was gone. Yeah, yeah, He said some stuff about rebuilding the temple in three days, but who can even understand what that means? Devastating loss. Heartache. Heart break. Sound familiar? But then the women show up at the empty tomb, and the man in white asks them--why are you looking for Him here? He has risen, just as He said. And it's the just as He said that is comfort and hope in a desperate season.

To me, surely the claim that He would rise from the dead and conquer the grave was the most outrageous claim Jesus made. (Well, the Son of God thing was pretty outrageous, too, but work with me.) Death is death. Final. Not an ellipsis but a period. Right? But He rose, just as He said. And if I can believe and trust in the Savior who did this outrageous, impractical, incomprehensible thing just as He said He would, then I can take His other claims and promises as true, too. God doesn't need to prove Himself to me, but again and again in the Bible, we see Him reassuring us through His actions that He is who He says He is. Even when we don't understand. Even when we are heartbroken. He is still the Savior who says He will not leave nor forsake us. He is still the Messiah who comes to claim His own. His plans are still to prosper us. Even when we don't understand what He's doing.

As I grow older and (hopefully) more mature in my faith, I realize and increasingly come to grips with the idea that there are many things that are simply outside my comprehension. I am not capable of understanding seventh grade math, for example, or how to update my computer successfully. And, of course, there are things that have happened--to friends, to family, to me--that I may never understand. But I know Him. I know He is trustworthy. I know He has my best at the center of His will. Even when it hurts. Even when it's devastating. I cling to the promise that He is who He says He is. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Amen.

Well, it's time to get the boys moving and start the day. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are believing that He will do just as He said in your life and the lives of those you love, and that you are also almost through with seventh grade math. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Why I love my crazy Momma

The three Hodges girls and their husbands...we seriously hit the jackpot in the husband department--three really great guys.

Momma and Daddy with Nan and John last summer

Okay, this is usually my attempt at being serious, but today is my mother's birthday, so for fun, I decided to do a top ten list of all the reasons I love my crazy Momma.

10. She is...unique. (It's her birthday, so I'm using her word. I usually say odd or weird, or sometimes crazy.) She sees the world in a uniquely Betty fashion. Which leads to number 9...

9. She is side-splittingly hilarious. If you've heard any of the three of us tell a story and laughed, it's because our mother can flat out tell a story that will make you laugh until you cry.

8. She is really, really creative. If you know her, you know that she sews and quilts. But did you know that she has also made me dolls, created playmates for my cousin (remember the mice, Morgan?), came up with a really cool gift idea when I graduated from high school (coupons for clothes with hilarious little sayings on them--the woman can make a pun with the word bison, trust me), and just generally can look at something and imagine how it could be something else. I did not, by the way, inherit this trait.

7. She is FIERCE. Seriously. Don't mess with us. You will bring on her ire, and you do not want a piece of that.

6. She is super smart. Don't play Jeopardy with her in the room. It is not fun. You know why? She knows a lot of stuff that you've never even heard of, and she will recall it before you can spit out any kind of answer. Just do yourself a favor. Watch something else when Jeopardy is on. You'll embarrass yourself.

5. She has super-human memory powers. She often begins sentences with, "You remember when you were five and we went to Indianapolis for that fair?" No, Momma. No, I don't. I can barely remember why I walked into the living room.

4. She is all in for her kids and grandkids. That means she has facebook and watches it daily to see what we're all up to and if we're ok. She is interested in every detail. She is all about where they go to college, who they are dating or marrying, and whether or not they have a date for prom. Seriously. My Momma CARES about us. Never, not even once in my whole life, have I ever wondered if she was on my side. YES. She is ALWAYS on my side.

3. She raised us to be friends. I've said it before, and I'll say it again--my sisters are my best friends. They love me more than is logical. My parents seriously raised us to know that family is just a little below God in the order of importance of things in your life. Others may come and go, but your sisters are there FOREVER. (And they remember when I was a size six. That's very valuable to me.)

2. She has never, not once, made me feel guilty for taking her grandbabies--who lived ten minutes away before we came overseas--across the ocean. Not once. NEVER. And let me remind you that when we told my parents we were coming overseas, my Momma was bald from radiation and chemo. She could have pulled the guilt card, but she never did. You have to love that kind of Momma. And along with that, she has made super-human efforts to be daily involved in my kids' lives. Across the street, across the ocean--makes no difference. She loves us all unrelentingly.

1. She loves Jesus more. She has lived her entire life in front of us serving others out of the overflow of her love for God. It's hard to go wrong when you have a Momma like that.

Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you have a crazy Momma you love more than life like I do, and that you are ridiculously thankful for her, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

When I have a bad week...

At Russian Christmas in January--love this guy a lot!

In the mountain athlete's village in Rosa Khutor at the Olympics--what an amazing experience!

O LORD, You are my God, I will exalt You, I will give thanks to Your Name, for You have worked wonders, plans formed long ago, with perfect faithfulness. Isaiah 25:1

I don't know if ever, in the almost 8-year history of this blog, I have gone this long without writing. Obviously, during our time in Sochi, there simply wasn't time. But it has taken me a while to get back to what passes for normal, and trying to put my thoughts about anything into actual words was just too much for me to comprehend. I couldn't do it. And I'm still not totally prepared to talk about Sochi, or maybe I'm prepared, but I don't think I can do it justice, yet. In many ways, it was an astounding experience. And I want to give it what it deserves, and I don't think I'm there quite yet. It was truly wonderful, amazing, fabulous...name an adjective that means 'great.' But details and examples and stories...they feel too personal, still. I'm not sure that will make sense to you. But in a way, in a very real way for me, it was awe-inspiring to watch God work. Not in the way we usually use 'awesome,' but in the actual meaning of the word, it was awesome. Again and again and again, we were humbled by the way He showed up, held our hands, patted our backs, and kept us moving forward. He acted, as the verse above says, in perfect faithfulness.

But as we all know, life marches ever forward. Every mountaintop experience, and I would say that Sochi was a mountaintop experience, is followed by some time in the valley. That's life. And this past week, in particular, has been a rough one. Marc left for Ukraine to do news coverage last Friday, arriving home yesterday morning. About ten minutes before he left, I found out that my beloved friend, Kimmie, had lost her daughter in a terrible car accident. Marc left for the airport--literally--to the sound of my sobs. That could not have been easy for him, and it was certainly awful for me. So I spent the week mourning for my friend, mourning that I couldn't be there with her, and mourning that Marc was out of the country in the midst of all of this. Plus, he got to be in Ukraine, a place I have a deep love for, and I was kind of jealous about that. Even with the troops on the border, I would have liked a trip to Ukraine. So on Wednesday, the day Kimmie was saying goodbye to her daughter, I had a royal pity party. I don't mean I felt bad. I mean I cried LOUDLY. Every bad experience, every bad circumstance, missing my kids, my friends, my parents, my sisters...name it. I probably cried about it. I actually ruined a pair of contacts by crying. No kidding. And I was not pleasant. Ask poor John. He was stuck with me. Ask my friend here who called me. I was not pleasant.

Finally, when I calmed myself down, I had to take a hard look at why I was so upset.  Why was I upset? Well, for one, someone I love so dearly was hurting so badly, and I couldn't be there. First, let me be clear. She was completely surrounded by people and didn't need me. I wanted to be there because I wanted to be there for her. But I knew she wasn't walking this path alone. Plus, of course, with the internet, I've been able to chat with her every day. So what else had me upset? Well, Marc was in Ukraine. And Ukraine and Russia are all upset with each other, and we love both countries so much, and the conflict was scary and upsetting to me. And what else? I missed my Momma and Daddy. Yep. I'm 46, and I cried because I miss my Momma and Daddy.

I don't usually have days like that. I'm too practical a person to spend a day in that kind of teary mode. But I just let myself have the day. I cried. I read books. I stayed away from my computer. I did some cleaning. I did not talk to a ton of people. I just shrugged my shoulders and thought, well...it's a bad day. Tomorrow will likely be better. And you know what? It was. Of course, some of that is because Marc was back in the apartment by 9:30, and he brings sunshine with him when he walks in--just his presence always makes me feel better. Some of that is because I prayed a very specific prayer for Kimmie, and in a message from her overnight, I was able to clearly see that God had answered that prayer. And some of it is just that I've done this relationship with Jesus thing for quite a while, and I know Him. He never leaves. He never forsakes. To quote Toby Mac, we lose our way, we get back up again. (I know. I quoted Toby Mac. I'm so cool.) He is absolutely, 100% faithful. Ever near, ever listening, ever comforting...even during a royal pity party. He knows me. He loves me, anyway. Grace, grace, grace. That is just all grace.

Maybe you never have a really bad day. Maybe your life is all sunshine and butterflies. But I'm betting it's not. All of our lives, it seems to me, are constituted by highs and lows and days of just status quo movement. Nothing big, nothing little...just life. I think the comforting thing to me is that God wants to be part of all of it. I look at my prayer journal, and I'm astounded by the way He answers even the 'silly' prayers--about my back hurting, or a test Sarah Beth has, or how to answer this or that email. Every single thing, good and bad, He wants to be a part of it all. And perhaps, over these years overseas, that is the thing about my relationship with God that has changed the most. I have finally accepted the idea that He loves someone like me. Intense, introverted, book-loving me. He knows me, and He pursues me daily. Every part of me. The good on the outside part, where I am looking like a pretty good Christian. The bad on the inside of me part, where I am often snarky and rude and selfish and prideful. And the part that has a pity party big enough to ruin a pair of contact lenses. He loves it all. I don't get it. I don't understand it. But my, oh my--I'm surely grateful for it. Surely, surely.

Well, I think I'm going to go start another book. I know--how can one person read that many books? I promise I don't just read books all day. But in any spare minute I have that isn't occupied with something else, I fit in some reading. Plus, it's Friday night, so Marc is at band practice, and John and I have kind of a quiet tradition. I read a book while he plays Pokemon. It works for us. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know and understand that the God of absolutely everything loves every single part of you--even the ones you don't love so much, and that your sweet girl is coming home from boarding school tomorrow, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye