Kellye's Personal Journal

Praise to the LORD, the Almighty...

2012-01-29T00:38:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to show you some before and after pics of my recent kitchen reorg. This is before. If you know me, can you imagine me living in this universe???

After: Thank goodness for IKEA bins. I have them EVERYWHERE.

Praise to the LORD, the Almighty, the King of creation. O my soul praise Him, for He is thy health and salvation. All ye who hear, now to His temple draw near. Gladly forever adore Him.

It's a gray morning in Vienna, Austria, but there are smiles in the Hooks household, because Marc is on his way home to us. I do not hate it when he goes, because he truly adores his work more than you can imagine, but I love it when he comes home. Some day, when we are empty nesters, I will go with him, and that will be a glorious day. But for now, I'm enjoying not being an empty nester and watching him settle into the shoes God created just for his feet.

If you've been married a long time (we'll celebrate 21 years this summer), you know (I pray!) the joy of the happiness of your spouse. You probably also know the great burden of watching your spouse struggle. In our 21 married years, I've watched both. And I'm thankful for the struggling times, because they make this moment in time so sweet for us. For years, I knew Marc was talented and gifted, that he loved people, that he loved God, but he never seemed to find the perfect fit for him. This life, his work, his travel, his love for Europe and Europeans, his commitment to the gospel...this is the life he was made for. It is the perfect fit. I would not give up his happiness in his work for any white picket fence in America. I really wouldn't. It is an immense joy and privilege and blessing to watch as he settles into the perfect life for which God created him. It really is. But I'm glad he's coming home. :)

I've been thinking lately so much about the great blessings that God has given us. Of course, our family is close--our children (though they fight like any other siblings) deeply love one another. They communicate with one another across continents, giving advice, sometimes arguing, telling each other little secrets. That is a joy beyond words for me. I have a tremendous marriage. He is my very, very favorite person in the world, my best friend, my closest ally, my biggest cheerleader. Our relationship with my parents and sisters...beyond words. I cannot imagine more supportive parents than both mine and Marc's. Never a hint that we should come home. Never a complaint that they don't see us every day. I try to never take for granted their sacrifice.

At home in Florida, we have a great church that loves us. Sweet cards, precious messages, encouragement beyond words, faithful prayer warriors...all reside at First Baptist Middleburg. We have partner churches across the U.S. who love us and care for us and encourage us. Here in Vienna, we attend a church that we are growing so fond of, too, grateful for the voices of so many nations raised in worship of our great God. We have a great school, where our children are making relationships and receiving a very good education. I'm so impressed by the Bible study and worship materials Hannah is working her way through in preparation for leaving for Bosnia next week. Oh, my goodness...real thought, real study went into making a challenging, stretching Bible study for the kids. She came home yesterday from training time for the team with an absolute glow about her--so happy with the team, with the work they are preparing for, with the incredible adults who are making the trip, too. What a blessing to have adults who so deeply invest in my kids.

We have a wonderful apartment in a great neighborhood in Vienna. Little by little, we are making relationships here. Little by little, we are learning the myriad little secrets our city holds--here in the center of European culture for so many years. Beautiful cathedrals, lovely streets, so many things to learn as we work to understand this place and these people. We have beloved colleagues all over the world. We love our work. We love the people with whom we work. There is a Starbucks at our mall. (Though I'm learning to love Viennese coffee and cafes far more than anything Starbucks has ever brewed.) There is a grocery store across the street! Blessings, blessings, blessings...

On a deeper level than any convenience Vienna could offer, this place that we did not necessarily want to come to is teaching us about being where you are. It's teaching us about loving and being broken for those God puts in front of you, regardless of the language they speak. It's convicting us about boldness and courage and dreaming bigger than is reasonable for a city, for a people. I'm reading the gospels, studying the words and actions of my Jesus closely, and one phrase keeps tearing at me: "And Jesus was moved by compassion for the people..." So many times, I'm not moved by compassion. He wept over Jerusalem. I walk the same path in my neighborhood every single day. When was the last time I was so moved by compassion for the lostness of my neighbors that I wept? Vienna is teaching me about compassion, about loving people, about being broken. Those are priceless, precious gifts, incredible blessings that I would not trade for being where I would have chosen.

On this cloudy, gray Vienna morning, I'm feeling grateful for a place where I'm being asked to stretch and grow and be content. And what I'm finding is that a true choice to be grateful makes little problems, small tensions, and even big issues fade in their importance. And I'm grateful for that, too. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are grateful for the big and little blessings of your life, and that your apartment is starting to smell like Cracker Barrel hashbrown casserole, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Some days...

2012-01-25T02:38:00.000-08:00

I like this one--Han with curly hair. And thanks, sissy, for the Christmas present--she loves her JBU sweatshirt!

King Boris. He thinks he runs the place. :)

I'll give You everything I have, because I was undeserving, and You chose me. --Your Favor by Elevation Worship

So, let's be clear. It was all good until I went out to exercise. You see, I've been stuck in the apartment since Sunday with something that looked suspiciously like the flu (YUCK!), and today was going to be my day to get out and about. And what better way to do that than to exercise and walk around the neighborhood? So I was all good until that decision.

For a while, everything went well. I was listening to music, walking along, smiling at the dogwalkers, saying an occasional hello to folks I always see when I walk. And then, out of nowhere, I found myself with tears running down my face. DO YOU KNOW HOW NUTS THAT MAKES ME LOOK?!?!?!?! Completely nuts. So what happened? Well...it was (as it often is) a song that did me in. It was the song I quoted above, the song that Hannah sang at Marc's ordination at our church right before we came back to Europe. It was that song, you see. And it's not just the song, though it's gorgeous, and I love the sentiment--Your favor follows me. Your kindness leads me to a hope I cannot see. C'mon. Nothing wrong with that. It's all good stuff, right? But in my mind's eye, I could hear Hannah singing it. I could picture my parents as they sat there listening. I could see Sarah Beth crying as she listened to her sister, the baby she wanted to be a 'bruvver,' but who has grown up to be her friend. I didn't see it that night, the crying. People told me later. They said, "I was okay until I looked over and saw Sarah Beth sobbing over her sister. It was too much for me." And in my mind, I could clearly see that. Sarah Beth crying, heartbroken over the loss of her sister to a life that inevitably takes us away. And it was too much for me. So there I was, crying as I walked the streets of my neighborhood.

You know what we tell people? The people in churches who always say, "Thank you for your sacrifice"? We almost always tell them it's not a sacrifice. Or maybe we say that it doesn't seem like a sacrifice, this life that we--honestly--love and are so clearly called to. Don't read anything I'm about to say and take away the idea that we aren't called or that we're doubting that call. That's not it at all. But I'm going to be transparent and clear and--gasp!--vulnerable for a second. It's a sacrifice. Right now, this moment in time, this place in my life...it is a sacrifice. It is MUCH harder this time. No doubt about it. Leaving Sarah Beth on one continent while we are on another...it's awful. She is sick with some kind of bug right now. She wants her Momma. I hate it. I hate being away from her. I miss my parents terribly. Every single day. I miss my sisters. I miss my life. But most of all, I miss my baby. It makes my heart ache. And it makes me cry on the streets of the city I'm called to love.

And this can take an ugly turn, if I let it. It can go from "I'm homesick," to "So-and-so never calls. They don't even think about us," in about two seconds flat. And that turns into, "It must be nice to get to live down the street from your kid/parents/church. Wish God let ME do that." Oh, and THAT is dangerous territory, isn't it? To be flippant and ugly to the God of the Universe is no little thing. To doubt that what He has for us--even in the desperate missing of our girl, even in her loneliness for us--it is as close to blasphemy as I can imagine. Do you know the blessings of my life? Do you know the absolute shower of goodness He rains on me daily? He meets me at ridiculous times of the morning EVERY DAY to sit and have a cup of coffee. He listens to me. He gave me Marc and Sarah Beth and Hannah and John John. He gave me Ken and Betty and Kay and Cathy and all the names that go with those names...a close family...not distant relations...not call on holidays kind of family. I have REAL family. Blessings all mine. All mine. All bestowed from the giver of all good gifts. Who am I to question? Who am I to resent?Who, exactly, do I think I am in the face of who He absolutely is?

It doesn't surprise God that I'm homesick. It doesn't shock Him that I miss my girl or that Han and John miss their sister terribly. Nope. One of my favorite songs says it perfectly--all this was just part of Your glorious design. How can I, in the face of His incredible plan for my life, say anything but, "Hallelujah. Amen." I will not walk down the road of bitterness and comparison. I will choose to be grateful for the thousand blessings that are undeservedly mine. And I'll hope that my neighbors don't think I'm completely nuts. :) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know that He is still God, even when you're sick and want your Momma, and that you are making dinner for a much beloved friend, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

What I've learned...and what I'm learning

2012-01-17T23:12:00.000-08:00

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

All about Him

2012-01-04T23:03:00.000-08:00

One of the great joys of my life is the deep friendship between Marc and my Daddy.

The four of us at my Aunt Angie and Uncle Raleigh's house in Clarksville, Tennessee--will I ever get used to "the four of us" instead of "the five of us"? About the time I do, it will be "the three of us."

Since I write constantly about them, I thought it might be nice for you to see my sisters and parents. This is the five of us at my aunt and uncle's house in Tennessee. My sister, Cathy, is on the left, and Kay is in the middle.

It's all about You, Jesus. And all this is for You, for Your glory and Your fame. --Jesus, Lover of my Soul

Well, it's the new year, and I'm ready to get back into a regular routine. Our kids don't go back to school until the 9th, and I think they are ready for normal, too. It's been a good break, we've had fun with each other and with friends, but now it's kind of enough. Know what I mean? But the turn of the new year is always a time for contemplation and reflection--not resolutions, necessarily, because I don't think that generally works to make a change--and I thought I'd share some of the things I'm working on in 2012.

--Scripture memorization--I have done some memorization in the past, but not enough. The more I know God's Word, the more I understand and can utilize it's real, legitimate power over the darkness that can sometimes seem overwhelming. If I'm going to claim every thought for Christ, I need something else to put in its place to roam around my brain--and Scripture seems like a good choice.

--Positive instead of negative--I've spent too much time recently on what is difficult and hard. It's okay to think through and pray through those things, but concentrating on them alone is a recipe for discontent. And by the way--I live in the world's best city to live in, according to recent news articles and surveys--so what am I complaining about? :) Seriously, there's a lot of good here, and definitely ministry to be done. Looking at the good, not the bad, cannot hurt anything or anybody.

--Concentrating on home--It is weird for me to introduce myself as a "hausfrau," but it's what I am. I'm a housewife. And while there is definitely lots of ministry to be done outside my home, my first priority has to be the ministry inside my home. Keeping our home running smoothly is a full-time job. Taking care of Marc so that he can do the things he's here to do--beyond a full-time job. And you know what? I'm finding that there is a great deal of joy and fun to be had in this ministry to those with whom God has entrusted me.

--Reflection and quiet in my quiet time--I'm such a checklist girl. It's so easy to study my Bible and pray because it's what I'm supposed to do. You know what I mean--feeling that you've done your duty because you have spent 15 minutes telling God what you need. (Okay, I spend more than 15 minutes, but that doesn't make a checklist mentality any better!!) I have been really convicted recently that my quiet time isn't always very quiet. In other words, I do most of the talking and almost none of the listening. God isn't my therapist. It's not about me. It's about Him. I need to close my mouth and listen. I am convicted of my immense need for more of God, not to know more about Him.

--A broken heart--It's not about a place. It's not even about being called to love a specific people. It's about a broken heart for those who don't know Him. If I am honest, it's easy to be drawn in by the polite nature of Austrians and forget that they are lost. Lord, help me see the world as You see it, with Your heart. If that is my prayer, I cannot help but weep for the lost of this beautiful city--no matter which beautiful city I happen to be in at the moment.

--Boldness--I cannot be satisfied with only an incarnational witness. It can't just be me living here, making relationships, and never bringing up spiritual things. It is easy to be quiet about Jesus in order not to offend. But you know what? He's offensive to everything this world is about. It's not enough to just live a good life. Lots of people who are going to hell are living good lives by the standard of this world. It's not enough. Lord, Lord...let my words in front of You be few, but let my words about You be many.

There are more things on my list, but they are too personal to share in a public format. It's enough, I think, to say this: I want 2012 to be a year in which I make much of Jesus. I want to make Him the focus, the center. If I do, I know that everything else in my life will hold together. Because, you see, it really is all about Him. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that your 2012 is going to be all about Him, and that you are looking forward to a day of getting things done, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

There is definitely a theme here

2011-12-30T21:34:00.000-08:00

Our Christmas Day skype with my parents...love them! How did people live overseas before skype?!?!?!

Watching Sarah Beth open her present from us.

Skyping with my sisters...so precious to me!

Christmas Eve at Schloss Schonbrunn--a new tradition!

Wherever you are--be all there. Jim Elliot

This is, believe it or not, my 300th post on this blog. Amazing! I still can't get over the fact that anyone reads this, but I sure enjoy writing it. It's fun to look back over time and see where I've been and how I got to where I am right now. As I read over some old blogs from the last 4 1/2 years, I realize that I have lived in four countries during that time--Russia, Czech Republic, the U.S., and Austria. You have to give me this--my life isn't boring. :) It also occurs to me that as I look back over the last 299 blogs, a theme appears, a definite motif that traces through the ups and downs of this life I've been called to live. In all of these posts, in some way or another, I come back to God's absolute faithfulness time and time again. In the darkness of Russia, the limbo of the Czech Republic, the waiting of the U.S., and the transition into Austria, God has--again and again and again--proven Himself faithful, faithful, faithful.

I'm not going to lie--Austria has been a much more difficult transition than we had anticipated. It's easy to think that after you've done something once, it doesn't matter where you do it again...sort of like riding a bicycle. Once you know how to do it, you know how to do it. That hasn't proven true here. Adjusting and acclimating to Russia is very different from adjusting and acclimating to Austria. The people are different, the climate is different, the laws are different, and, of course, the language is different. What we have now that we didn't have when we went to Russia is perspective. We've been through this before. And because God was so faithful in Russia, in Czech Republic, in the U.S., we have every reason to believe that He will continue to be faithful here. So we walk on, we live our life, we try to learn the customs, the laws, the language, we try to develop relationships and ministry, and we know that we are not alone. We are exactly where we are supposed to be at this moment, and that makes life joyful even in the awkward moments of transition that are inevitable.

One thing that has helped me during this time is to be thankful and grateful for the things that are going well or are going right, and not just thankful, but vocal about my thankfulness to God. Instead of saying, "Thank you, Lord, for the many blessings of this life," I make a list. When I'm feeling particularly blue, I make a really detailed list. Because here's the deal: when I sit down to be really thankful, the blessings are overwhelming. I feel piddly and small for being ungrateful EVER, because my life is so full of God's very best. Maybe it's not the place I would have chosen, but God's idea of what my life should look like far surpasses anything my brain could come up with, even in a dream. Making copies for our visa applications yesterday, I realized that my 10-year-old has been to more countries than most adults will ever see. When Hannah goes to Bosnia in February, it will be her 13th country to visit. What?!?!?! But even better than that, our family has the chance to see God at work, up close and personal, to be fully dependent on Him, to taste and see that He is good. Those are not just words in a book, however holy it may be. Those are truths that we have tested and know to be absolute.

So what am I particularly thankful for on this last day of 2011, this 300th post? Of course, I'm thankful for my family, for our closeness, for our health and general happiness. I'm thankful for my close relationship with my sisters and parents, for the way they have invested in this life I've been called to. I'm thankful for friends in the States who constantly encourage me and love me, but who let me love and encourage them, too. I'm grateful for growing relationships here, both with colleagues and with those outside our organization. I'm thankful for the sweet fellowship of our church here, for the many nations represented each Sunday as we worship together. I'm thankful that we will start language lessons soon, and that I will be able to speak and be understood more than I am able to do right now. I'm grateful for our new kittens, for the way they have added to the fun of our lives here. I'm thankful for our colleagues in Russia, who we consider family and who have always treated us as "theirs," no matter where we live. And I'm thankful for this time of transition, this hard season, where God is teaching us new things, sloughing off more and more of the old man in each of us, growing something new and beautiful out of these jars of clay. I'll never get over it--He called us to this. Us. Knowing us, He called us, anyway. I'll never understand it, but I'm forever grateful.

It's time for me to start cooking. We have friends coming over tonight for New Year's Eve, and some colleagues from Hungary are coming to spend the night, too. There are pizzas and cheeseball to be made. :) Then tomorrow night, we get to hang out all night with colleagues in an effort to obtain our visas. It will be cold, but it will probably be fun. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are singing the songs of His ultimate, continuing, dependable faithfulness, and that your kittens are making you laugh as they chase stuff around, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

The temper tantrum

2011-12-08T00:05:00.000-08:00

John John and Bart Simpson, hanging out in a glacier. No big deal. :)

Our new home is absolutely breathtaking.

Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10

I am tougher than you may think.

The voice, the eyes, the...pleasant plumpness, the accent (deeper at some times than others)...they all make me appear to be a blonde marshmallow, a pushover, someone who is easily moved and manipulated. In reality, though, I can be pretty fierce. (Out there in the land of those I've taught, people are giggling, because they think fierce is...maybe a little understated.) Especially when it comes to my family, I am aptly named. (My name is Celtic, and it means warrior.) Do not mess with my family, or the wrath of Kellye will emerge. And it's not pretty, friends. I am a tigress in defense of my family. Like all parents, I want my children protected from harm, from those who would taunt and ridicule, from those who wish them ill for no good reason. It is in a parent's nature, I think, to stand straight in front of their children to protect them from evil. Isn't that why it's such an aberration when a parent harms a child? Isn't that why abuse of any kind shocks us, horrifies us? Because that is not the nature of parenthood. Parenthood loves and protects. It's how we are wired by our Creator.

So here is the question I have run smack up against in the last couple of weeks/months: when do I step aside and allow my children to learn the hard lessons? When is my protection, my stepping in and fixing things not part of what God has for them? And how is it possible to sit aside and watch my children struggle and suffer, taking comfort in the knowledge that the God who loves them even more than I do is the One in charge?

I'm going to be honest and tell you that I have no solid answers to these questions. In fact, on Tuesday, while I was walking in the morning, I had a complete and total meltdown next to the Danube river. Yep. Threw a temper tantrum at my Maker, right there in front of Him and everybody else. I did everything but jump up and down and stamp my feet. I was MAD. Mad because every time Marc leaves the country, every single thing goes wrong. Mad because he's in Tasmania and doesn't have internet access, so I have to handle everything without any help from him. Mad because Sarah Beth is a continent away. Mad because Hannah and John are dealing with bullies. Mad because other people get to live around the corner from their parents and I don't. Mad because other people's kids get to see their grandparents all the time, and mine don't. Mad because other people get to see their sisters, and I don't. Mad because my life seemed, at that moment, SO HARD. Why am I here, where I can't speak the language? Why can't I just live a normal life? (He must have laughed at that one. What is a normal life, anyway?) MAD, MAD, MAD!!! (Seriously, I was pretty upset.)

And you know what the kicker was for me? Hannah's light bulbs in her room went out, and I couldn't figure out how to get up there and fix it. I'd tried, but I just couldn't reach it. That was what pushed me over the edge. Light bulbs. I am not proud of that, my friends. I really am not. But I think if we're all a little more honest than is comfortable, it's almost always something small that is the backbreaker in our lives. It's rarely the big stuff that gets us. For me, it's allowing stuff to accumulate, to build and build in my heart (while, by the way, I tell everyone who asks that 'I'm doing fine') that makes me blow a gasket. And that's what I did on Tuesday. It wasn't really about light bulbs, of course. It was about my kids struggling and suffering. I don't like it. I don't want it. Don't mess with my kids, Lord. Haven't they given up enough? Hasn't Hannah spent enough of her life overseas and unhappy? C'mon, God! Cut them (and me) a break!

I'm going to be honest--I heard no voice from heaven telling me to be still and know Him. No touch comforted my soul. Nope. He just let me throw my temper tantrum, let me get it out of my system and go on with life. I went out that night with ladies from our organization here in Vienna, and it was a time of hooting laughter and comfort and encouragement. That helped. Things didn't look so dark, suddenly. There is something about people who know what this life is, who have experienced or are experiencing many of the same things...it's very comforting. And to share those things with people who love Jesus like you do, who share that foundation of complete commitment...it turns out that iron really does sharpen iron. Reminded by them of real truth, my prayer over Hannah that night was a sobbing cry to the God of both our hearts, praising Him that while we do not understand all that has happened here, and we don't know what He's up to or what He's doing in all of it, we do know Him. He is good. He loves us beyond measure. We have not just read about Him on Sundays. We have not just listened to sermons about Him. We know Him intimately. He is the lover of our souls. He holds us in his righteous right hand, never ever to let us go. And so the things that trouble us might not be better--stuff still goes wrong, has to be handled, people are still mean and vicious, we still miss Sarah Beth, we want Marc to come home--but we rest and are strengthened by the knowledge that the God who loves us brought us here, called us to this life, and walks the path with us day-by-day, minute-by-minute, second-by-second. We are never alone. Amen and amen.

The light bulbs got fixed, by the way. It had not occurred to me to ask for help. That's another topic for another blog--my inability to ask for help. I have two friends within a 30 second walk from my front door, and I had not considered the idea that maybe, just maybe, someone tall (really, really tall, by the way) might be willing to come in and help. Urgh. I frustrate myself, sometimes. Okay. All the time. But she has light in her room, and she can play her guitar in there, which was her main concern. And Wednesday was a little bit better than Tuesday. That helped. :) But I'm realizing as I continue to grow into this life, into this love affair with my Savior, that His love for me and for my family (and for you) is far beyond what I can comprehend. It might not always look like I want it to--comfortable and easy, like a great recliner. In fact, it almost never looks like that. But I would not trade it for a comfortable life around the corner from my parents and Sarah Beth and my sisters, a life full of cake mixes and easy food preparation, a life of speaking English all the time. His love for us, his plan for our lives...better than anything I can imagine. So I walk on, apologize for the temper tantrum, ask Him to help me with my unbelief and my lack of faith, and believe. In Him. In His love for me. In His love for my children.

Wherever you are in the world, I pray that your life is wrapped up in the Lord who loves you and created you and not in being comfortable, and that you are visiting a snowglobe museum later today, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

The love story

2011-12-04T00:45:00.000-08:00

The love of my life.

As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another. Proverbs 27:17

One of my favorite moments while we were in the States happened in our Family Life Group (FLG) at church. It was the first Sunday we visited the group, and one of the ladies said, "Well, I don't know you, but I've followed the love story on facebook." It made me smile, both because it tickled me to think of us as "the love story," and because that really is a great description of our lives together.

Many of you don't know this, but I met Marc when he drove my fiance to the airport in OKC to pick me up from Spring break. I immediately took a dislike to him. To be fair, the feeling was mutual. He thought I was a goody-goody bowhead (a girl with long hair and a perpetual bow in said hair), and I thought he was a bad boy whose parents probably sent him to a Christian college to help him turn his life around. It makes me smile to this day to remember that awkward drive from Oklahoma City to Shawnee, trying to make chitchat and finally giving up, because we clearly just didn't like one another. I was a sophomore in college, and he was a freshman. We would not cross paths again for two years. When we did, I had (obviously) broken off my engagement. I was co-directing a show at school, and he was doing lights and sound. He loaned me a pen to make some notes and stayed behind to retrieve it. We began talking, and as the saying goes, that's all she wrote. I was hooked (pardon the pun) from that conversation onward. I told my roommate when she got up the next morning that I was going to marry him, and I was right. That was in September, 1988, and 23 years later, I only like and love him more.

It has not been a perfect ride. Like every marriage, there have been times of trouble, bumps in the road that we had to survive. Some of those bumps were pretty rough. Some of them were just normal, every day getting-on-each-other's-nerves kind of seasons. If I had to identify the hardest times, definitely one of them would be our first months in Russia, when we were in language school. I can remember saying to him, "I love you, but I don't really like you right now." To his credit, he didn't respond in kind. We survived it, in large part due to his kindness to me, his gracious nature with me. The only time I remember him "putting his foot down" was a time when I freaked out about something and said we were going home to America. He took me into the kitchen (where the kids couldn't hear us) and he said, "Kellye, going home is like divorce. We're not going to do it, and so we're not going to say it. I don't want to hear it again." In many ways, that was a turning point for me. It made me dig my heels in and just determine to stay and to be content.

That's what great relationships do, isn't it? When the proverb says, "iron sharpens iron," it's talking about a relationship in which we make each other better. And that's what my relationship with Marc does--it makes me better. He sees the good in me when I don't. He sees my potential when I don't. When I am too tired and weak to be of much good to anybody, he steps in and holds me up until I can stand on my own. He prays for me. He tells me constantly that I am loved. He makes me laugh until I cry and make weird snorting sounds, and then he thinks that's cute. I ordered bread at the bakery yesterday, all in German, and if he had been here when I got home, he would have high-fived me. He is my cheerleader, my biggest supporter, my very best friend. I love him, certainly, but I also really, really like him. Blessings, blessings, blessings...everywhere I look.

Every once in a while, we get a remark that we should 'get a room,' not be vocal about our relationship, tone it down, etc. Nah. I think I'll take the Tim Tebow approach: any time I am given an opportunity to give Marc a 'shout-out,' I think I'll do it. Because in turn, I'm giving glory to God. Never in a million years would anyone have picked out Marc Hooks and Kellye Hodges for one another. And yet, a loving God had an incredible plan for our lives, one that we could not have imagined. When I look at Marc, at our marriage, our family, this incredible adventure we are on together--I know that only a good and loving God could have written this love story. I would not ever agree to be quiet about my love for God. And I will never stop praising Him for one of His very best gifts to me--Marc. Instead, I'll just let the ultimate Author continue to write our love story.

Well, finally--someone is up at my house besides me! I've already made the maple syrup, so now it's time to make the French toast to go with it. We're looking forward to talking to our home church in Florida this evening--can't wait to tell all about life in Austria! Wherever you are in the world, I pray that the God who loves you so is also writing a great love story in your life, and that you are talking to folks at home today, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,

Kellye

A few of my favorite things

2011-11-27T21:34:00.000-08:00

The cross standing at the site of church ruins in Purgg-Trautenfels, Austria

This was the view from our hotel. C'mon. That's just ridiculous.

The beautiful town of Purgg, Austria, which kindly opened its doors to us during its Christmas market on Saturday. This is from the grounds of the Johanneskapelle--John's chapel--famous for its well-preserved 12th century frescoes.

I will lift up my eyes to the mountains; from where shall my help come? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2

You knew, of course, that eventually there would be a Sound of Music reference, right? Because I LOVE that musical, and here I am in Austria, where it is set. Eventually, I had to do it. It seemed the right time. We went exploring over Thanksgiving the part of Austria in which the story of The Sound of Music takes place, and where, of course, the von Trapp family actually lived. We were outside of Salzburg about 45 minutes, wandering around the Austrian Alps. Not a bad gig, if you can get it.

Thanksgiving was good. It wasn't traditional, by any means, but it was good. With no cooking to worry about, no preparations to make, I actually found time to be very thankful. I teared up only once, and that was when I was wandering around a Christmas market and stumbled upon a booth of quilts and quilted ornaments, which, of course, made me miss my Momma. I bought one. I bet you guessed that. We came away with an incredible appreciation not just for the gorgeous setting of Austria--honestly, it's beautiful beyond my ability to put it into words--but also for the kindness and warmth of Austrians. Now, if Austria is the only place you've ever been, I'm betting they don't seem very warm and welcoming. But to those of us who have lived other places, they seem like they're practically throwing us a parade. There are times and incidents where I have thought, "Wow...that was rude," but generally, taken as a whole, Austrians are pretty wonderful.

It would be hard to pinpoint what my favorite part of the trip was. Of course, I loved the time with my boys, a little foretaste of what's coming in the not-too-distant future, when both Hannah and Sarah Beth are gone, living their own lives, and it'll just be me and the boys at home. John is genuinely interested and curious about the world, and he was fun to take places to explore. He also was flexible and spontaneous, something he definitely gets from his Daddy. :) I loved exploring a glacier with him, riding a cable car up a mountain, visiting a town nestled in the mountains for a Christmas market, visiting a castle...all were wonderful. But if I had to pinpoint my favorite moments of the trip, it would have to be the church.

We were at a castle, walking around, when we saw a small, brown sign. Brown signs in Europe mean really interesting stuff to see and learn about, so we decided to take a look. Over a sketchy-looking bridge and up a one-way road were church ruins from the 1530s. It was an evangelical church, one of the seven in the district, which covered a good section of Austria. The foundation is still standing, and you can see and imagine what was there, where the altar was, etc. But my favorite part was the "Bibel Wanderweg." You can only approach the ruins on foot, and on the path are signs...sort of like the stations of the cross in a Catholic church. They are verses of Scripture meant to make the reader reflect on the journey of faith. And though we certainly don't speak German fluently or even passably, it's amazingly easy to read. With just a rudimentary knowledge, you can definitely make out words and context helps with what you can't figure out on your own. So up we went, reflecting on what we read--all well-known verses. But the station right before we reached the ruins was, to me, one of those moments that I will likely never forget. For there, standing in the unimaginable beauty of the Austrian Alps, surrounded by silence and the memory of other, long-ago worshipers, I read the words that began this blog--I will lift my eyes to the hills, from whence cometh my help. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth. Yep, standing there, gazing at the mountains, I found some of my favorite words in all the Bible. In a land that is not my own, in a time that I would have given my left arm to be with my whole family, in a place I didn't even plan on visiting, God left for me a little stone of remembrance. It isn't the beauty or the oddity of finding that verse or those ruins that so touched my heart. It was His utter and complete faithfulness to me. The hills were there long before I even knew where Austria was on a map. They will be there long after I am a mere memory. But God, the maker of heaven and earth, is forever. No matter where I am, He is already there. No matter what my situation, He already knows the outcome. There is nowhere I can go that is out of His reach, no matter how remote. Whether I'm in Middleburg, Florida, preparing Thanksgiving dinner for my family or high in the Austrian Alps looking at church ruins, He is my constant companion. This journey, this adventure that we've been allowed to be a part of is sometimes lots of fun and sometimes really awful. But the One who called us to it is always the same--faithful, compassionate, merciful, loving.

It was a good trip. I'm glad we went, and I'm betting we'll return eventually. But it was also good to come home to Vienna, to our cozy apartment, to the neighborhood we love. That, too, is one of my favorite things. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are celebrating all the ways God makes Himself known to you, and that the sun is rising in particularly glorious fashion where you are, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Lessons learned

2011-11-18T22:55:00.000-08:00

Hannah--our middle pancake is turning out pretty well. :)

John--his sweetness makes me smile.

"No weapon that is formed against you will prosper; and every tongue that accuses you in judgment you will condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD, and their vindication is from Me," declares the LORD. Isaiah 54:17

I'm missing a picture of Sarah Beth here, because my photos have been wiped clean in a purge of my hard drive, and I don't know where Marc has put them. But imagine a cute picture of her up there, too, with a comment about how proud I am of the person she has become. You get the idea. If you know me at all, and even if you only know me through this blog, you know that I am crazy about my kids. Interestingly, I didn't think I wanted children until I met Marc. I couldn't picture myself as being a loving Mom, sacrificing for my children. It just didn't seem to fit with what I knew about myself. But then I met Marc, fell in love, and realized that my own capacity to love was much, much deeper than I'd imagined. And then Sarah Beth, Han and John showed up on the scene, and my capacity to love them turned out to be unlimited. I like them. I love them. I'm proud of them. I pray for them constantly. They are central to everything about my life. Along with Marc, they are some of God's very best gifts to me--in a life filled with God's good gifts.

I've told the story many times of Hannah's struggles when we moved to Russia. It was a difficult time for all of us, but especially for her. But we learned some things as a family during that time that God is continuing to use in our lives today. For me, it firmed up and clarified exactly what I want my children to take away from their experience overseas, living in a land that is not their own and shining Christ's light in the darkness. As Han has faced a couple of very hard, discouraging weeks, those lessons have proved essential to keeping her as encouraged as possible. I think they are universal lessons from which anyone can benefit, so I thought I'd share them with you.

Lesson one: Trouble will come. If you are human and breathing, you will have trouble. It's what you do with the trouble that shows the world what and who you really are. And if you're a believer, Jesus pretty much promised that you would be hated for His name's sake. But He also told us to take heart, because He has overcome the world. Don't panic when trouble comes. As the last weeks have played out and Han has struggled, I have pictured her burrowing further into the Father's lap, cushioned from the world by the One who loves her best. And that has been a comfort for me, because what I WANT to do is kick some bottoms and take names on her behalf. :)

Lesson two: You cannot control what others do or do not do. This is a hard one for me. I want people to act toward my children how I think they should act. And that isn't just the people who are making life difficult. It's also the people who should (in my opinion) be encouraging her and lifting her up--but aren't. But I have no control over that, and neither does she. What we have control over is pretty limited. We have control over how we act, how we look at things, how we love others. And we have control over whether we choose to believe that Jesus is exactly who He says He is. We've told our kids a thousand times: people will disappoint you. Jesus NEVER will. Trust Him and choose to love others in spite of themselves.

Lesson three: Surround yourself with real friendships. Sarah Beth and I have been talking lately about what real friendship looks like. It always builds up, always loves, is always excited for the good in the other person's life, is always sad for the other person when sadness comes their way. I have been blessed with some incredible friendships in my life, women with whom I have a close bond and to whom I can turn in times of joy or sorrow. Some of them are also living overseas. Some of them are in the States. But they are true friendships that sustain me, gifts from God that I rejoice over. My children have those same relationships. Some here. Some there. But they are a source of great encouragement and worth the investment of time and energy they take to build.

Lesson four: Make much of Jesus. Paul said that he considered momentary troubles nothing in comparison to the joy of knowing Jesus. As we continue as a family to grow in our knowledge of who He is and how He created us to live in Him, it is impossible to do anything but love Him more. Trials will come. People will hate us for His name's sake. Persecution will follow us. But we are never alone. If every friend leaves us, we are not alone. If our enemy seems to win the battle, we are not alone. He is everything. Knowing Him...it's beyond my capacity for words to explain the joy that comes from knowing Him and His mercy and compassion and deep love for us. This incredible adventure we have been called to live is not about us. Not even for a second is it about us. It's about Him. All of it--the joy, the happiness, the fun, the sorrow, the fear, the hurt--it's all about Him and for Him. We want to make much of Jesus.

Well, it seems that no matter how long I sit at my kitchen table, it isn't going to make the sun come out, so I guess it's time to get going. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are rejoicing in your momentary troubles because you know you are never alone, and that you are looking forward to attending a school play tonight, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Holding up our candles

2011-11-15T23:22:00.000-08:00

For the beauty of the earth...our new country is incredibly beautiful.

And I set my mind to know wisdom and to know madness and folly; I realized that this is also striving after wind. Ecclesiastes 1:17

It is a dreary, foggy morning in Vienna, Austria, and I am enjoying a cup of tea and peanut butter breakfast bars I made the kids for breakfast. Marc is home, but his day is full of meetings on skype, so I'm trying to be quiet. The great thing about getting up so early is that it is 8:30, and my chores for the day are already done. (It's bathroom and laundry day--it's good to have a schedule.) So I thought I'd sit and write for a few minutes before moving on to the next part of my day.

I am having some problems with shooting pain in my big toe and the bone right under it, so I've been a little less active in the last 24 hours. It didn't keep me from walking yesterday, and it won't today, either, but going up and down the stairs is pretty painful. (This happens about once every six months, and it will go away on its own. No big deal--just painful.) After I finished my walk yesterday, I realized that I wasn't going to get much else done around the apartment (I'd already swept and mopped all my floors and folded and ironed clean laundry), so I decided to read some more of The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom. Hannah is reading it in English, and I like to keep up with what she is reading so that if she has questions, I've read it recently and can be helpful. I also just love to read, so it makes a good excuse. :) So I propped up my throbbing foot, and I read and read. What an amazing story of faith and forgiveness and hands-and-feet Christianity. The ten Booms didn't just talk about being Christians. They lived it. They were it. One of the hardest parts of the book for me is when she asks the pastor to take in a small Jewish baby and he refuses. He is unwilling to put his family in danger for the sake of a baby. Kills me every time.

I'm also reading Ecclesiastes, because Hannah has a paper due on it next week, and I haven't read it in a while. I'd forgotten what a really amazing read it is--the king who asked God for wisdom realizes that wisdom is folly. That everything is 'striving after wind.' As an English teacher, I love the circle imagery, the idea of the wind coming around and around, of there being 'nothing new under the sun.' It always tickles me that people think that quote is from Shakespeare, but it's actually from Solomon. Hannah told me this morning that the book makes her sad for Solomon, who chased after many things--and women--in his lifetime, only to realize that it is in striving after God that true meaning comes to a life. It's really some of the best writing out there--not just in the Bible. It's worth your time if you haven't read it in a while.

Interesting to me how these two things she's reading really mesh with one another. The ten Booms were definitely not striving after wind when they hid so many in their own home and helped countless others find safety elsewhere. Their lives counted for something--even in the loss of their lives. I think Solomon would have thought that they sought after the things that really mattered, even when the world disagreed with them. Their lives shone as a light in the unbelievable darkness of World War II. They still shine in the darkness, many years later.

We've been talking a lot in our family of late about what happens when good rubs up against evil, when the light shines in the darkest of places. Evil does not willingly step aside, does not tip its hat and move out of the way like a gentleman. No. It fights and claws and screams and rages against the light. But here's the thing that we've been stressing with our kids--the darkness never wins. It might look like it does. It might seem like the light loses battles every day. But we know the truth. And if our God is who He says He is--and we have tested and proved Him to be the ultimate promise keeper--then the battle is already won. It's hard to look at things that go on around us and keep that in mind some days, but it's true. The darkness trembles in the face of the Light of the world. And while it may seem to us that we are only holding a tiny candle in the overwhelming sea of darkness around us, when those tiny candles come together, they light the whole world. We have seen and testify to you that Jesus is light, and in Him is no darkness at all. That's good news in a dark world, isn't it?

So we march on, holding our little candles, loving people, loving each other, and ceasing to strive after wind. And we know that the Light of the whole world, who loves everyone, with no exceptions, continues--day by day, minute by minute--to keep our tiny candles lit. I can think of nothing in the world for which I am so thankful in this season of thanksgiving. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are holding your candle aloft in your part of the darkness, and that you have a big bottle of ibuprofen to take care of the pain in your foot, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Wherever you are...

2011-11-10T22:55:00.000-08:00

The zipline near our apartment--this represents John's total approach to life: put your head back and just throw yourself full-tilt into everything you do.

Vienna does not lack for beauty. This is an amphitheater on the Danube near our apartment.

Wherever you are--be all there. Jim Elliot

Sooo...if you keep up with us on facebook, you already know this. I'm kind of blue. Not depressed, not paralyzed by sadness...just blue. Hannah calls it mopey, and she's feeling it, too. Some of it has to do with the weather--it's been really gray this week, and it's harder on the soul than you might think if you're living in the Florida sunshine, soaking up all the vitamin D you could possibly want. So that's some of it, for sure. And some of it is the approaching holidays. Hannah will be in London for Thanksgiving on a school trip, and we've decided to take John out of town. I cannot express to you the ways in which I am dreading Thanksgiving and Christmas without Sarah Beth. Just sitting here typing the words is making me weep. Not tear up. Weep. Part of the price of having a family as close to one another as ours is that separation is very difficult. I miss her desperately, miss looking forward to her breaks and her being home. So definitely, the upcoming holidays are bearing down on my soul in a way that is making the blue a little deeper. But I have seen this particular blue before, know its parts, recognize it for what it really is: culture shock.

Culture shock is one of the most dreaded aspects of life overseas. They try really hard to prepare you for it in training, they warn you about it, but until you've experienced it (and in our case, lived through it), there really isn't anything anyone can do for you except help you to know what it is and give you some tools to deal with it. And it probably doesn't look like you might think it would. Hannah and I decided this morning that it's like slogging your way through pudding...and not getting anywhere. It's loneliness and isolation and feeling like you are not up to the task in front of you. It has nothing to do with whether or not you like where you are, by the way. Vienna could not be a more beautiful place. Austrians have been very kind and welcoming to us. This has nothing to do with Vienna. It has to do with us, with our hearts, with where we are. And so, it's time to confess something aloud.

I didn't want to come to Vienna.

It's a beautiful place. Who doesn't know that Austria is gorgeous? But it's not Russia. And I wanted to go home to Moscow. When it changed to Kiev, I was okay with that, too, because I know Kiev, have been there several times, and speak the language. I love Kiev. I get Kiev. So when it became clear to us that we would not be returning to a Russian-speaking place, I was distressed. I masked it okay. I got excited about Austria. I felt my family's happiness about Austria (my extended family), and I got onboard. Yep. Not going back to Russia is probably a blessing. It'll be better and easier for the kids. These are the things we tell ourselves and others as we try to deal with NOT going where we wanted to go. And when we got here, I really tried. It's gorgeous. It's easy to navigate. We love our neighborhood. We love the school. We love our apartment. All of these things are true. None of them are things I made up but didn't mean. But here is how each of these sentences ended in my head: but it's not home. It's not Russia.

Here's the thing: Russia was hard, certainly. In every way, it was difficult. But I figured it out. I know how to be there. I know how to exist there. I know the language--well, at least sort of. I understand the weather. And here's the flip side to that coin: I am known there. Some of the closest people to us in the world are living in Moscow right now. Friendships we hold close and dear. People who are not work, because they know us and love us in spite of ourselves. And here is the moment in which this became crystal clear to me: during a team retreat, as we went over the results of our personality tests and mine came out as administrative--different from everyone else--I remarked, "Is this a shock to anyone?" And you know what? It WAS a shock to everyone except Marc. And in that moment, I knew something that had not really occurred to me: they don't know me at all. That isn't their fault--we haven't really had the chance to know one another. It doesn't mean they won't ever know me. But at this moment in time, I live in a place where the only people who truly know and understand me are living in the apartment with me. And I'm going to be honest--that is about the loneliest feeling I have ever experienced in my life. And so the blues started, and so they have continued. Because even an introvert like me longs to be known and loved. And I am loved. Don't take away from this that I'm not. But I'm not known.

So what do we do about this? Well, we recognize it for what it is. And because we've already experienced this elsewhere, we know that, as Marc reminded us this morning, it ends. This will be a distant memory at some point, one we laugh about and are grateful to be done with as we roll along in the life God has chosen for us. In the meantime, we try to be all here. I cannot get over culture shock if I have one foot in Vienna and one in Moscow. Not possible to do that. So Marc took me out yesterday, exploring the city and talking over what we can do to feel better. Language is a big part of that. We don't have much in terms of funds to take language, but we will have to find a way to study German. And I have to figure out what ministry I am called to here outside of my husband and kids. Perhaps hardest for me--I have to relax. It'll pass. This will be home some day. I will open my mouth and something German will come out, instead of the Gerssian I currently speak. I have to trust that God didn't bring me here to long for someplace else. But while I'm waiting for this to be home, I must firmly plant my feet in this city, with these people, with this school and enjoy the front row seat for the working of the God of the Universe in my life and the life of my family and the life of this beautiful city. I have to bloom where I'm planted, and for this season, I'm planted in Vienna.

I have a fun afternoon planned, so it's off to do laundry and some other writing before it's time for that. We are getting haircuts--praise the LORD!--and then we're taking the kids downtown to the Christmas market outside of the Vienna Rathaus (city hall?) and then to a gourmet meal at McDonald's. Hannah requested some family time to help her slog through the pudding, and Marc and I were more than happy to say yes to that. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are being all there, and that you are looking forward to some family time, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Every season

2011-11-09T00:12:00.000-08:00

There is no way not to think this is a gorgeous place. This is the church we see on our normal walking route. Ridiculously beautiful.

Sweet John in front of some pretty leaves. Love this boy!

Hannah doing what she does about 99% of the time--smiling. So blessed to be her mom!

Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. I Corinthians 10:31

I have a few quiet moments between mopping my floors and doing more laundry, so I thought I'd get some writing done. This particular blog is in answer to some private questions I've gotten, most of which have been centered around a curiosity about what our life here is really like. So I thought I'd give you a little glimpse of a normal day.

Every day begins for me by 5 a.m. If you've read this for a while or know me at all, you know that sleep is not always my friend, so I try to sleep until 5, but never later. I have to have complete quiet to start my day, and that's impossible with children roaming around. So I'm up by 5, and I have coffee and time for Bible study and prayer, which I finish about 6:25. I get Han up about 6, and my new favorite thing in the morning is that she does her quiet time at the table with me. We're not talking or even watching one another, but as a Momma...it's pretty sweet to have her sit next to me while she studies and prays. Just one more blessing in a life full of blessings. About 6:30, I get Marc up, and I start breakfast. My kids always eat a hot breakfast before school. Usually, we eat some kind of eggs--studies have shown that kids with ADHD benefit from protein in the morning. So we eat breakfast, and then it's all about getting the kids out the door and on their way to school by 7:45. They walk together, and we don't have to take them anymore. Sometimes, I go in the afternoon to get John, but we are starting to let them come home together. It takes them about 25 minutes to get to school via public transportation. That may sound like a lot to you, but it sounds like heaven to us. It took much longer than that in Moscow.

Once they're gone, the day rolls on. There is always cleaning to be done. There are some general rules here (that I've set for myself)--the kitchen must remain clean all the time. In other words, I don't let stuff stack up. My kitchen is small with very limited counter space and a European sink (think about half the size of yours in America), so dishes have to be done if the next meal is going to be prepared. Trash is another thing that has to be taken care of every morning. I also usually sweep the floors every day--that may change, though. We're looking at getting more rugs, and I'll probably buy a vacuum, which will cut down on the sweeping. Or I hope it will. Every day, I have a different thing that I concentrate on. Wednesdays, I always clean the bathrooms. We have two, and if they get too dirty, it doubles my work. Better to give it a good cleaning every week. I mop the floors on Mondays, trying to get rid of the grime from the weekend, and sometimes on Fridays, too. The kids' rooms are generally picked up all the time, and our room, too. I can't live in chaos, and neither can anyone else in the family. And, of course, every day has at least one meal that is homecooked--usually supper. (I don't count breakfast---scrambling some eggs is not exactly a feat.) Generally, Marc and I eat a roll and cheese or something similar for lunch. Not a lot of work in that. And the kids take their lunch to school--often leftovers from supper. But supper takes some preparation and thought, mostly because I have to get the groceries to make it. Sometimes, I don't plan well or I forget how long something takes. For example, I made chicken quesadillas the other night, forgetting that it takes FOREVER--2 1/2 hours later, we finally sat down to eat. YIKES!

So what do I do besides clean? I am caught up right now in trying to get the apartment set up. Everything feels temporary while we wait to buy some more furniture. I have things to attend--team retreat last week, a ladies brunch yesterday morning, coffee with colleagues, events at school. I am taking over the finance reports and other paperwork from Marc, and that is a much bigger job than I planned. And eventually, I will have ministry of my own, though at this point, I have no idea what that's going to look like. I read. I write. I encourage Marc and watch different pieces or talk through things he's working on with him. When my kids get home, I help them with homework and spend time with them, often trying to find some kind of family thing to do at night--family movie night, family game night, etc. With Sarah Beth out of our home, the truth that time flies has been made real, and I am trying to soak up every single second with the kids--because tomorrow, they'll be gone. And this--being Sarah Beth, Hannah, and John's Momma and Marc's wife--this is the stuff that matters, that has eternal significance. This is the stuff I really want to do well. If there are dust bunnies in the corner, that will bother me. But if my children grow up without knowing how important and loved they are...then I will have failed. And I'm not interested in failing at anything.

If you know me in my other life, I bet this life surprises you. You've always known me as the girl who gets up at 4:30, goes to work, teaches all day and loves it. How is it possible to be so happy and content in this life that is so different from that one, in which I was also quite happy and content? As I grow older, I realize that life is made up of so many seasons. I was a young wife, then a young wife and mother, a young teacher, a more experienced teacher, and now I'm in this phase--living overseas, being a housewife, loving and taking care of my family, but definitely in a more behind-the-scenes role than I've had in the past. But in each of these seasons, I have been overwhelmed by the blessings of the season. What is better than young, snuggly children? What is better than being a newlywed? Well, at this stage of my life, having a close relationship with my adult child and with my teen and preteen is pretty wonderful. Having a mature, comfortable relationship with the person I love most in the world, experiencing this incredible adventure with him as our love just gets deeper and deeper...pretty great. When I sit and really ponder my life, really think about the different things I've been allowed to do, I am humbled and grateful. What a blessing to have been allowed into the lives of thousands of teenagers, people I have loved and continue to love and pray for. And what a blessing to be living in this beautiful country, encouraging and supporting the incredible people God has entrusted to me. Blessings all mine, my friends. Our God is so good.

Well, the washing machine has stopped, which means it's time to hang the laundry. Wherever you are in the world, I challenge you to look over the course of your life and see the joy you've been so graciously given, and I hope that the new recipe you're trying tonight goes well, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Why being a good girl is not enough

2011-10-22T23:29:00.000-07:00

The view from the front of the apartment--from my sunroom. :)

The other side of my kitchen. That's the window I stand at to pray for my neighborhood--my tradition since I've been overseas.

The dining room from the terrace--lots of work to do in here still, but I think it's a really nice space.

But know this: God will not be tolerated. He instructs us to worship and fear Him. --Francis Chan, Crazy Love

I know, I know--no blogs for three weeks, then two in two days. What's that about? It probably has a great deal to do with the quiet in the apartment and a sick boy who has been inside for two days. He was better yesterday morning, then started running a tiny fever again last night. Hoping this morning he wakes up feeling all better. I ended up falling asleep on the couch while I tried to stay up for the World Series, only to awaken this morning and discover that the Cards had--literally--knocked it out of the ballpark. Sorry to all my Rangers friends--you seem like lovely people, but I grew up on Cardinals baseball right outside of St. Louis, so my loyalties are pretty clear. I'm also a huge Albert Pujols fan--both of his playing and his personal testimony. How can you not love him? Don't answer that, Texas friends. I'm betting he's not your fave right now.

I'm reading Crazy Love, by Francis Chan--a book I found when we unpacked boxes from Prague. Sarah Beth read it with a group of girls and two of her "aunts" here on the field, and she really seemed to enjoy it, so I picked it up. I've found it to be pretty challenging, not in terms of the reading level, but just the ideas he puts forward. I'm enjoying it. It's fitting nicely with my study of Romans, which will probably take me at least the next six months to complete. I like that, though...the long study of a specific book. Personally, it gives the words time to really write themselves on my heart, to get past the academic, analytical part of me and find their way into my life. I studied Acts for about 16 months, and I found it a really worthwhile endeavor. If you're interested in how I study a particular book, send me a message. I do it on my own--I don't have a study guide. Anyway, this morning I was working through a word study of chapters 1-5, and I came across what is, at least for me, one of the most profound statements in the Bible: But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8) That has long been a favorite verse--we used to sing a song in choir that was based on it, and I always loved the song. But as I read it this morning, I could not help but think my way through my own journey of faith and how I came to this point in my life. Because to a great extent, that verse, that realization that God loved me in spite of my sin, was a life-changer for me.

Maybe you are new to my life or to my story, and you don't know my background. Or maybe you are one of those folks who knew me way back when, but you haven't had any contact with me in a while. In either case, it's a story, I think, worth telling. Raised in a Christian home, I came to believe in Christ for myself at a young age. I did all the good Christian girl stuff. I went to a Christian college. I met and married a nice Christian boy. I became a nice Christian teacher. We had nice Christian babies. We lived a nice life--active in church, happy marriage, good kids. Oh, we hit the bumps in the road that lots of people do--bumps in our marriage, bumps in raising our kids. But we were content with our lives. We felt good about who we were. We lived lives that--from the outside--were totally given to our God, to each other, to our family. Who could quibble with that? Isn't that what God wants?

But we hit a BIG bump--not in our marriage, but in relationships that had become, for us at least, a kind of life raft. When we had problems, all we could think of was how blessed we were to have Christian friends to whom we could turn. (If this were a scary movie, here is where the ominous music would start playing.) Do you see the theological issue with that? It jumps off the screen at me--we turned to our friends, not to our God. But suddenly, through a series of events that are no longer important, we found ourselves pretty much alone. We couldn't fix our situation. Others watched and tried to help, but couldn't. It was terrible. Awful. I spent many hours on the floor, literally crying out to God. And that's when things took a turn in my life. That's when I became unsettled and less than okay with just being a nice Christian girl. Because in the midst of my rough seas, God showed Himself to me. Oh, not literally--because that would have really freaked me out. But He showed me who He is, and who I am in relation to His glory. And I can assure you of this--once you see that clearly, being a nice Christian girl is no longer enough.

You know what He didn't do? He didn't assure me that I was right and others were wrong or that they were right and I was wrong. It turns out, He wasn't really interested in what seemed like such an earth-shattering situation at all. What He showed me through His word and through a time--really the first in my life--of my just listening to and for Him was amazing. He didn't want me to be a good Christian girl. He wasn't amazed by my singing or by my teaching or by anything else I could do for Him. What He was interested in was my everything. Not a section of my life or my heart--everything. Every single bit of myself--He wanted it all. Not even just the nice parts, the parts I showed others. He wanted the parts that were bitter and angry and wanted revenge. And when I asked Him to, He took those parts and washed them clean. That awful situation? No longer important. How others viewed me? Not a big deal. Singing every Sunday? Not a make or break thing anymore. Being like other women on the field? Not my role. The God of Everything, Creator of the Universe, Master of my life--even before time began loved me with an irrational, overwhelming, persistent love. A love that would send His Son to the cross and see Him raised three days later...for me. Suddenly, all my efforts at being good seemed really flat and embarrassing. Good mother, good teacher, good wife, good daughter...not really so amazing, after all.

I sit at my kitchen table every morning with my Bible and journal, and I study and pray and write. And while those things are important, they aren't the amazing thing about my mornings. The amazing thing is that the God who created the universe chooses to meet me here. He comes and sits with me as I worship Him, praise Him, adore Him, implore Him. He sent His Son to die for me. When I really understood that, I couldn't get over it. I'll never get over it. Me. He loves me. Not what I can do. Not how well I can analyze a poem. Not how well I bake or clean or any of the other things I'm responsible for here. Nope. Just me. And that, my friends, impacts every single things about my life. How much I love Marc, what kind of mother I am, what kind of friend I am, what kind of Christian I am. It transformed my marriage from a good, solid marriage to the most incredible relationship in my life. Out of a full devotion to God comes a complete realization of His goodness to me, and having Marc is a big part of that goodness. He loved me enough to give me Marc. I cannot get over that kind of love. It is no longer sufficient to be a good Christian girl. My prayer is to have an unreasonable love for others that springs out of my love for God. I have been saved, not only from an eternity of separation from God, but to an incredible life here on earth with God. My joy and amazement and awe overwhelm me. Give Him my life? In the face of that kind of love, how could I do less?

So that's my story. God saved me from the life I had made for myself into the incredible life that He made for me. And yes, sometimes that life is hard and involves sacrifice. But the life He created me for and called me to is so full of absolute joy that anything else, an easier life--it's just not very appealing. So here's my challenge to you--what did God create you for and call you to do? Are you doing it? Have you ever asked Him? I promise that what He designed and planned just for you is so incredible, so full of joy and unreasonable contentment, that it's worth looking a little crazy to the world as you pursue it. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are pursuing more than mere Christianity, and that your husband is headed home to you, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Overwhelmed

2011-10-21T23:55:00.000-07:00

The sun rise as seen from our terrace. The tall thing in the distance is a church clock tower. This is looking out the back of our apartment.

My kitchen, or at least one side of it. It's small, but it has a really good amount of storage space. And yes, those are homemade biscuits waiting to go in the oven.

The living room. We're getting there, but we obviously don't have anything on the walls, yet. It's a cozy space.

As the deer pants for the water brooks, so my soul pants for You, O God. Psalm 42:1

We arrived in Vienna three weeks ago today. It seems like it was yesterday, but it also seems like we've been here a long time. Our transition into a new city has gone pretty well, with only a few bumps in the road. Everyone is adjusting to a new life here, making new friends, meeting new neighbors, navigating a new neighborhood. After what seemed like forever in limbo, waiting for official word from the company about when and where we would be serving, it's good to be doing something, to feel like we are moving in the right direction.

It's quiet this morning. Marc is in Prague for a meeting, Hannah just left for the Alps with a friend's family from school, and John is sick and still asleep. (It's nothing serious--sore throat and headache and a fever, but enough for him to be pretty lethargic.) So I have some time to contemplate and be quiet and catch you up on what has been happening since we arrived. It's a gorgeous morning here, and I'm especially enjoying the sunlight streaming through all the windows in the apartment--and there are MANY windows.

I don't know that I have anything particularly profound to say about our arrival. It was wonderful. Our team made us feel like they were very happy to have us back. The Vienna City team has made us feel very, very welcome. We love the kids' school. There are ministry opportunities there. We like the church we've been attending. The city is incredibly beautiful, easy to navigate, and full of really friendly people (at least in our neighborhood--we've not experienced a lot outside of our little spot). We live a few blocks from the United Nations, and I hear several different languages taking the kids to and from school every day. Our next door neighbors are from Nepal and speak fluent English and are very, very nice. We are slowly getting to know our neighborhood, walking a different section each night, making our way around. Our apartment is about two blocks from the Danube River, and there are lots of things to do there. If you can't tell, we really, REALLY love our neighborhood. There are some things that have been hard--a new language, fitting in at a new school, feeling like we live in a giant's garage sale (smile...the chaos of totally furnishing and putting together a new place was more than we bargained for)...but, generally speaking, we are happy. We're content. This is where we're supposed to be at this moment in time.

But I didn't want to come here. I wanted to go back to Moscow. Our love for that city and for Russians isn't exactly a secret. Talk to us and you'll find that we are passionate, intense, and maybe a little obsessed with Russia and Russians. I listen intently for Slavic languages on the bus and ubahn (the metro system in Vienna). I look at faces and try to see if they have Slavic features. Russia is home. It is my heart. So why am I so happy in Austria? Because God is good and faithful and clear to direct our lives when we ask. Because while I am passionate about Russia and Russians, my prayer is that God would continue to break me apart for the lost people I meet on a daily basis. Not just Russians. Not just Slavs. Everyone. Every single person without the hope of Jesus Christ in their lives.

And so I'm content to be here, where God has clearly directed us for this season. I am thrilled with my apartment, with my kids' school, with the possibilities for ministry that I see in front of me. I will continue to walk the streets of my neighborhood, making relationships and praying for those I meet. I will continue to stand at my kitchen window and pray for the neighborhood in which God has placed me...a tradition born out of my desperate unhappiness when we first arrived in Moscow. Above all, I will continue to be thankful for my incredibly faithful God, who has so proven His love for me and mine, His absolute faithfulness on our behalf, that I can be content to sit in the center of His plan for my life...no matter where in the world that plan leads me.

Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are overwhelmed by the goodness of God, by His faithfulness and trustworthiness, and that you are looking forward to watching College Gameday on ESPN America this afternoon, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

How can I say thanks?

2011-09-29T04:09:00.000-07:00

What words would be sufficient to describe this moment? None.

I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always offering prayer with joy in my every prayer for you all, in view of your participation in the gospel from the first day until now. Philippians 1: 3-5

We're down to hours. Hours. After months of medical issues, months of not knowing when we would be going or where, months in limbo--we are down to hours. How faithful is our God? How big is He in the face of obstacles? He's certainly bigger and more faithful than I can put into mere words. And all of His faithfulness was celebrated last evening at a service held by our church. While there is no way to describe the service or adequately explain what it meant to us, I'm going to give it at least a try, because I think it highlights what God can do when given a chance.

Sometimes, it's easy to think of the church as a place. We often say that we live on the church grounds. We talk about the building as the church. But that isn't the church at all. The church is a community of people who choose to have faith in God. The church isn't Southern Baptist or Methodist or Catholic--the church is all who choose to believe in Christ and in His grace and mercy and compassion. It's easy to become frustrated with the church, because people sometimes act kind of awful. If you've been in church--or around human beings at all--you know that we can be pretty horrid, collectively. And it's easy to grumble and get caught up in that. But the church continues to be beloved by Christ. He gave His life for the church. And He commands us to love the church as well. Remember all that "love the brethren" business? Yep. It's the church being discussed in all those passages. And I don't think that's happenstance or coincidence, because I am pretty sure God knows how terrible we can be, given half a chance. So He demands that we love one another. After all, why would anyone want what we have if all they see is squabbling, fighting and back-stabbing? They wouldn't. And that's why a lot of people aren't buying what we're selling, because that IS all they see. But last night was one of those nights in which the church--as God intended it to--showed up and loved one another.

It's not easy to leave. It really isn't. I don't have mixed feelings, I don't have doubts or even worries (okay, maybe about actually getting the bags completely packed, but not about anything real), but I'm going to be sad to leave people. I'm going to have to say goodbye to my sister this morning. I don't want to do that. Tomorrow I will say goodbye to my beloved parents. Don't want to do that, either. And, of course, I will have to wave goodbye to my precious child. I can't even fathom that, yet. I don't even completely understand what that is even going to look like. My children, who absolutely adore one another, will have to be separated. It's horrible. I came in last night to find the girls sitting together, arms around one another. My children are close. They love one another deeply. Tomorrow is going to be rough. It's going to be hard. And there isn't any way to lessen that pain. But we'll get through it, and we'll all live the lives God has called us to live.

So what does that have to do with last night? Everything. You know what makes it easier to leave? I know that my church loves us. I know that they will take care of my parents. I know that they will love Sarah Beth. I know that her church in Arkansas will continue to wrap their arms around her as she returns. I know that her school, which has so many MKs attending, will continue to take care of our girl. None of what happens tomorrow can be done without those faithful prayers that will go out on our behalf. None of it. Like David's mighty men, those who showed up to fight, we have our own mighty men and women. You have carried us through dark times before with your prayers, and you will carry us through the dark days that are sure to come. You have faithfully lifted us up, and you will continue to do so. I know, because I have felt your faithfulness. I have felt your prayers. And I will feel them again. And there is great comfort in that.

And so, while 'thank you' feels and sounds so inadequate, it's all I have. Thank you. Thank you for loving us. Thank you for giving us a place to live and cars to drive. Thank you for writing recommendations for us. Thank you for loving our kids. Thank you for challenging us to be the people God intended us to be. Thank you for throwing us an Australian themed goodbye party and making us laugh. (And for the cake, which was DELICIOUS!!) Thank you for lining up to pray over us last night. Thank you for knowing how much I love Mary Engelbreit and Sharpie pens and bringing me gift bags full of them. Thank you for knowing me and thinking about me and remembering me. Thank you for holding up our arms when we can't possibly do it ourselves. Thank you for showing up and loving my family. We smile upon every remembrance of you. We really, really do.

It's time to do the final re-packing. Pray for us tomorrow. It will be a pretty hard day. But you know what? It'll be a joyful day, too. God has called, and we've been allowed to follow that call in a pretty awesome way. We love our life overseas. We love our friends and colleagues there. And we know that what God has for us there, while it may not be easy, will continue to be a front-row seat for His spectacular, awe-inspiring love for the nations. That's not a bad gig, is it? Wherever you are in the world, I pray you are thankful beyond words for the love that permeates your life, and that your bags are not going to have to be unpacked and repacked today. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Being consumed by God's fire

2011-09-21T03:20:00.000-07:00

Our Sarah Beth...unbelievable to me that she's grown up!

Hannah on the cruise we took to the Bahamas this summer. We had such a good time!

John John at one of the churches we spoke at this summer. And yes, that is a Russian flag stuck in his hair. I've found it's better not to ask.

Therefore, since we receive a kingdom which cannot be shaken, let us show gratitude, by which we may offer to God an acceptable service with reverence and awe; for our God is a consuming fire. Hebrews 12:28-29

I know, I know. It's been a while. Too long, really. I've gotten some little reminders from several of you that it might be nice if I posted something. It's just that American life seems very busy, but I don't always have a lot to say about it. But of course, American life is coming to a close for me very quickly, at least for a while. In nine days, we leave for Austria, for a life we know but don't know, a place that we call home but have never seen. Hopefully, I'll have more to say there and find the time to write about it.

We have just returned from our appointment week. If you're not Southern Baptist--maybe even if you are--appointment week is where they bring all the new m's to one city, have a bunch of meetings, interview them one last time, and then commission them to go into the world. It is exciting, exhausting, and exhilarating. (The alliteration is just a little shout out to my pastor, Alan Floyd. He's the KING of alliteration.) There isn't really any way I can describe it to you. It's a very personal time, a very intimate time with the Lord and with others who are like-minded, whose passion is to go into the Nations with Christ's love. There is a good bit of laughing, but there are also many sobering moments when you count the cost of what you're agreeing to do. It's one thing to sign my life away, to sign Marc's away...but it's entirely another to put the names of our children on that line. We counted the cost of that a long time ago, and we know for sure that serving God is worth whatever price we must pay, but it's never a bad idea to think it through one last time before we step on the plane.

I read the verse above on the morning that we were going to be interviewed by the trustees for Europe that evening. As I was preparing for that meeting, that last interview in a long line of interviews and paperwork, I started thinking about how God called me. I think it's a very hard thing to describe to someone God's call on your life, because it's such a personal thing. And particularly to those who aren't believers, it is difficult to explain without confusing them with church speak. And while we've told the story of telling each other we were called, I knew that what the trustees would ask would be about my personal call to go overseas. As I formulated that response (I was correct, by the way. They did ask this precise question.), I thought about God being a consuming fire. I thought about that time in my life, not an unhappy or discontent time, but a restless time, when I knew that there was MORE. I didn't know what MORE might be, but I knew God had something in mind for me, for my family that wasn't like other people. And that was a confusing thing for me, because I know me. I am not special. I am not extraordinary. I'm just an ordinary wife and mother. What would the great God of Everything want with me?

It turns out that what He wanted was every bit of my life, every iota of my being. I'm still ordinary in every conceivable way, but He is extraordinary. Given half a chance, He consumes those He loves and makes them MORE. His lovingkindness, His mercy and grace are inconceivable blessings showered on all who allow Him into their lives. And that isn't just for me and my family. That's for everyone who believes and follows Him. No matter what you've done. No matter how lousy you think you are. No matter what secrets are hiding in your closet. Grace and mercy and peace beyond comprehension are yours for the claiming. That's news good enough to share, don't you think? It's news that has so radically changed my life that I'm not just willing to give up everything to share it, I'm glad to do so.

And that's what I told the trustees. I have to be honest--I was nervous going into the meeting, but it was a really sweet time for us. It's a story I never tire of telling. It's a story that will sustain me through some dark days that I'm sure lie ahead. It's certainly a story that has kept me warm through the dark Russian winter. The great God of Everything has given me--Kellye Hooks from Middleburg, Florida--a front row seat for how He is working around the world. I'll never get over it. Never.

Well, it's time to pack some more. We are making some serious headway, but there is still much to be done. Plus, we have goodbyes left to say, and that is never fun. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are living in awe of God's goodness and mercy to you, and that you don't have to reduce your life to suitcases. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Changing the world--one light at a time

2011-07-17T04:16:00.000-07:00

These are scenes from my amazing time at Camp Worldlight, a missions camp for girls run by the Florida Baptist Convention. I spent a week at Lake Yale as the missionary in residence.

See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deception, according to the tradition of men, according to the elementary principles of the world, rather than according to Christ. Colossians 2:8

I need to issue two disclaimers before you read any further. First, I grew up Southern Baptist, which means I was a mission friend, a GA, and an Acteen. I have a deep belief in gender-specific missions education, deepened by my own experiences. Second, my oldest daughter, Sarah Beth, is a counselor at Camp Worldlight, and so I do not claim to be unbiased or objective about the camp. I'm not. I adore camp for many reasons, not the least of which is that it is having such an impact on my girl. If you can live with those things, read on!

I have many, many memories of GA camp at Windermere, the Baptist Assembly I grew up attending in Missouri. We also went to some kind of Sunday School training there--my parents were heavily involved for many years in Sunday School leadership--and I can very clearly remember riding the paddle boats with my Daddy. I can picture the cabins, the activities, the bugs, the scary storms that sometimes blew through...all are clear in my mind. But what is most clear is those young women who were my counselors. I cannot remember their names all these years later, but I can remember their faces, and I can certainly remember the impact they had on my life. Through Bible study, nature hikes, worship and late-night talks, they encouraged me to follow closely whatever it might turn out God had for my life. Whether I was to become a missionary, a teacher, a doctor, a nurse, or a housewife and mom made no difference--they told me clearly that God had a plan and purpose for my life, and that if I followed Him, my life would have meaning beyond my comprehension. I believed them, because I saw lived out in front of me what that kind of life meant. They were wonderful young women. They were loving and kind and funny and all about Jesus. And I didn't lack for female role models--beyond my many teachers and church workers, I also had my momma and my two older sisters. But there was something about those young women I saw only once a year, for a week in the summer, and the way they didn't change. They remained convinced that God had a special plan for them and for us, and they remained committed to living that out in front of us.

And that is what I loved so much about being Mrs. Kellye at Camp Worldlight this week--those beautiful, wonderful young women who have given their summer to influence girls for Christ. They are funny and silly, but also deeply committed to what Christ has for them and for the girls in their charge. They are loving but firm, and the girls are closely watched and cared for during their time at camp. It's made clear that there are rules to protect them from harm. We don't swim in the lake, because there are too many gators. (There really are. I saw them.) We follow the rules so that things run smoothly and everyone has a good time. We pray because God listens. We wear closed-toe shoes because the ants will eat us alive if we don't. We go to sleep because we want tomorrow to be just as good as today was. Wouldn't the world be a better place if ALL of our children had the opportunity to learn these things, instead of learning to throw a fit and get their way? And certainly, these are things parents should be teaching, but I can tell you from my own experience as a teacher that many parents are not teaching kids how to follow the rules. That's why parents call the school and complain when their kid is punished for something they did. They don't really believe in following the rules. Isn't it nice to know that somewhere out there, a place exists where the rules mean something? Where they are enforced?

But it isn't just that these beautiful young women are rule-enforcers that makes Camp Worldlight such an amazing place. It's also the unceasing focus on missions that makes it so special. Everything is about Christ, His purpose and plan for each girl, and about our responsibility to be involved in missions. Maybe you didn't grow up Southern Baptist. Maybe you are attending your very first Southern Baptist church, and they have some other kind of programming for children. But what makes us Southern Baptist is our belief that our greatest work as the church is missions--near and far, next door and across the ocean--and that together, we can do far more than we can do separately. That's why the Southern Baptist Convention's International Mission Board is the largest missions organization in the world. Our entire denomination is built around a foundation of going, telling, and making disciples. GAs and RAs teach that every week. And Camp Worldlight is all about missions. Ask a room full of IMB missionaries where and when they first thought about or made a commitment to be a missionary, and many, many of them will tell you it was at GA or RA camp. It's a place where girls can--without the distraction of boys--entertain the thought, maybe for the very first time, that God might be calling them to missions. Will they all become missionaries? Of course not. But some of them will. And Camp Worldlight will be the first step in that adventure.

I began by telling you I'm completely biased. And I am. I love GA camp. I loved it as a girl, I loved it when I was a camp counselor at Camp Nunny Cha-Ha in Oklahoma, and I love it as a missionary and as a mom. And I encourage you, if you have children who are the right age, to find a GA or RA camp where you live to send them to next summer. You will be amazed at what happens in their lives. In an age of Britney Spears and Lady Gaga filling girls' minds with who and what they are supposed to be, why wouldn't you want them to have a Brooklyn, an Amber, an Ellen, and yes, a Sarah Beth to speak God's truth into their lives? Why wouldn't you want a Mindy to show them that--just like on the high ropes--they are completely capable of doing anything God calls them to do? Why wouldn't you want them to see amazing women, like Anne, leading and being in charge? I can't think of a better gift to give girls. I honestly can't. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are giving your life to the only One who makes the moon reflect the sun, and that you, too, are headed to see the last Harry Potter movie this afternoon. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Waiting (and waiting and waiting) on God

2011-04-22T04:46:00.000-07:00

Marc and I with Han at her school musical. I was very impressed with how good a junior high musical could be!

Han with Mimi and Poppy (my parents, for those who read this but don't know them). I am pretty sure they are enjoying every chance to be with the grandkids. :)

I will give thanks to You, O LORD, among the peoples, and I will sing praises to You among the nations. For Your lovingkindness is great above the heavens, and Your truth reaches to the skies. Psalm 108:3-4

As my entire house is still asleep except for me (I did sleep until 5:30--amazing for me!), I have time to finally post something about where we are headed when we return to the field. This post, my friends, has been a long time coming, and it has been an interesting faith journey for our family, because we have not known the place to which we would be returning until last week. So here's the story, not only of where we're going, but how God has used this uncertainty in our lives.

When we left the field last summer to return to the U.S., our understanding of our future was that we would be in Moscow. Our family serves on the Forward Communications Team of the European Peoples Affinity. (WOW! That's a mouthful.) Our team is spread all over Europe, living in the places where we work. So we have people in Germany, Spain, Czech Republic, and until recently, Ukraine. So we would be in Moscow, because Russia is our main area of service. (Our other responsibilities are with the European Diaspora Cluster, which is groups of Europeans outside of Europe, so there is not one main place where we serve that cluster.) We were fine with that, as you can imagine. If you spend five seconds with us, you're more than aware that we love Russia and Russians and people who speak Russian. Can't help it, we just do. So we were okay with Moscow. Not long after we returned to the States, the plan seemed to shift to putting us in Kiev, Ukraine, because our responsibilities were going to grow to include a good section of the former USSR, Ukraine included. (Have you gotten a good look at Ukraine on the map? Not a small place.) And we were okay with that, because we LOVE Kiev. Love it. Such a beautiful place, and no new language for us, and the people are honestly lovely and kind. So all was well for us if we were headed to Kiev. Then, about five months ago, the team started to talk about all coming together in one city. And that's when things got complicated.

We had the benefit of serving for a year on a church-planting team. There is something about being on a team with other people that is unbelievably beneficial when you're living someplace that is not your own. But then, as was planned, we transitioned into our "real" job with the Russia field. And that was a different business altogether. Not having a team in your city means that you can feel (it's a feeling, not the truth at all) like you are alone. We did enjoy our job when we only served the Russia field, but there was a sense of isolation from everyone else in the city, who were serving on teams, having team meetings, team dinners, team ministry projects. (The exception to this were our friends who serve the deaf affinity, who are also not on the city team.) So we had known both sides of the "team in the same city/no team in the city" equation. And we were honestly completely okay no matter what was decided. If the IMB put us together in one city, great--we love our team members. If the IMB didn't put us together and had us spread all over Europe, great--we'll dive in wherever they put us and make our way.

After some time of prayer and thinking and talking (and consulting with the IMB, of course), it was decided that our team would, indeed, come together in one city. And then things got REALLY complicated. Where do you put a team of five or six families? There was talk of several different places, with each place having benefits and negatives, too. Some families felt very strongly about one place, some another. But above all, we all wanted the place that God wanted for us. So in February, in a team meeting in Prague (Marc stopped there before heading on to Russia), the gathered team (minus spouses--lots of children on our team, and someone has to take care of them) prayed for the guidance of the Holy Spirit. And out of nowhere, with not a single team member having their eye on this particular city, came Vienna, Austria. When Marc sent me the list of the final four cities, and Vienna was on the list, I was dumbfounded. Shocked. Vienna?!?! Whose idea was Vienna? But as the team talked and prayed, and especially after three of the five wives on the team visited Vienna, we all began to believe that Vienna was the place. A great school, a city team who is excited about us coming, a language that one of the families already speaks fluently, and (for us) a desire by the strategy team for someone to minister to the large Russian-speaking population in Vienna were all benefits we could not have foreseen in a possible move to Vienna. We began to, very cautiously, be excited. When we got the news that Vienna was, indeed, the place...well, let's just say there was a little noise in the Hooks house. (Although Sarah Beth swears up and down that she will not be twirling around on the hills outside of the city when she visits. Spoil sport.) Lots and lots of rejoicing here, not only because Vienna is a beautiful city and a nice place to live, but also because it was clearly God's movement that placed us there.

If you know me even a little bit, you know that I am a planner. A serious, serious planner. Checklists are an every day thing for me, and they make me super happy. So you can imagine that months and months of uncertainty was...hmmm...a little discombobulating to me. (And yes, that's an actual word.) I wanted to know. I really, really wanted to know. But I didn't NEED to know. I felt like I needed to know, but that wasn't really the truth. What I needed to know was that God, not Kellye, was in control. And just before the meeting in Prague--in fact, Marc was on his way there when I came to this one morning--I realized in the midst of my daily time with God that it didn't really matter where we were. What mattered was our obedience to whatever God put in our path. I know from experience that God's absolute best for me is deeply rooted in obedience to His call and a belief in His never ending faithfulness to us as a family. And with that knowledge comes the strength to wait on Him. And His Word tells me clearly that those who wait on Him have their strength renewed. They walk without becoming tired. They have strength like the young. And those are all qualities I'm interested in having.

So we continue to wait on the Lord. We think we're headed back in September, but we don't know that for sure. We have some medical things to take care of before we head back. But we can wait with patience and endurance because we know whom we have believed, and we know that His faithfulness is beyond measure. Wherever you are in the world on this Good Friday, I pray that you are waiting on the One who loves you enough to die for you, and that you are so grateful that He didn't stay in that grave. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Dealing with Discouragement

2011-04-02T05:07:00.000-07:00

The kids. I think they are on their way to John's basketball game with Mimi and Poppy.

Guess how we spent our spring break! (This is sand, by the way, not mud.)

Though the fig tree should not blossom and there be no fruit on the vines, though the yield of the olive should fail and the fields produce no food, though the flock should be cut off from the fold and there be no cattle in the stalls, yet I will exult in the LORD, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. Habakkuk 3:17-18

I have to be honest--it's been a discouraging week. Nothing terrible has happened, but it has been one of those weeks that felt like we were walking backwards in our quest to return to the field as career missionaries. Ever felt that way? You clear one hurdle to find another three in your path. That's the way this week has felt. And as we have consistently made the choice to look on the bright side, to trust God, to refuse to be discouraged, it seems like the little frustrations keep coming. I want it to stop. I don't want to feel frustrated. I don't want to feel discouraged. And I definitely don't want my children to be frustrated and discouraged.

But that's not reality, is it? Sometimes, no matter what we do, no matter how much we choose to trust and obey, there are things beyond our control. One of those things is the behavior of other people. And to some extent, another of those things is our health. Now, I can make all the right choices, I can exercise daily, eat very few carbs, drink enough water to sustain a camel for months, but there are certain things about my health that I cannot control. Marc has high cholesterol. He's been on cholesterol medicine for a decade, because his doctor looked at the genetic factors and knew it was always going to be a problem for him. We eat basically the same food, and my cholesterol is pretty much that of a child. Is it because I'm trying harder? No. I simply have some excellent genetic factors. My people are long-lived and generally healthy. (But don't get me started on the hips I inherited from my father's side of the family. Ugh.) I can make every right choice, I can have good genes, but I cannot control everything about my health, any more than I can control how other people behave. So what's a girl to do with those little frustrations and discouragements? And what's a mom to do when those frustrations and discouragements are coming in the life of a child?

I'm choosing praise. I have to tell you what I told one of the kids this week--praising God in every situation is not always what I feel like doing. I am human, and when someone or some situation discourages and hurts one of my kids or Marc--my first reaction is a very human one. I want to make a biting remark. I want to hurt whomever or whatever has hurt someone I love. But you know what? That's not who I am in Christ. That's who I am in Kellye. And I want to work out of the strength and power afforded me by being His child. I want to love others--no matter how they behave. I want to be positive in difficult situations. I want to walk over the obstacles in my path with confidence born of knowing my Redeemer and trusting Him with my whole life. But it's a choice I must daily make--to die to who I am in Kellye and to live as who I am in Christ. And though it's not always an easy choice, it's one I always benefit from making, if only because I know Him just a little bit more.

I'm also choosing an attitude of thankfulness. (I wanted so badly to say attitude of gratitude. I love a good rhyme.) What do I have to complain about when God has blessed me so abundantly? An incredible marriage, a close relationship with my extended family, an amazingly close relationship with my children, a great church, wonderful friendships here and all over the world, a job working with people I truly love, teaching a subject I really love...blessings all mine, with ten thousand besides. I'm incredibly grateful for the adults who have chosen to invest in the lives of my kids--youth pastors and volunteers and chaplains and teachers who have made a huge impact on their lives. And I'm really thankful for those relationships in their lives with their peers that are encouraging and replenishing to them, that encourage them to be the people God created them to be. And you know what? Those relationships far outweigh the momentary troubles of other relationships. God has been amazingly good to us.

So today, even though nothing has changed about my frustrating, discouraging week, I am making the choice to not get caught up in that, to not focus on those little things, and to focus instead on the amazing God I serve and the incredible ways in which He daily makes my life worth living. And along the way, I pray I'm teaching my kids to do the same. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are choosing to praise Him no matter your frustrations, and that you are headed to the fair with your kids today, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

What I have...and what I don't

2011-03-19T18:29:00.000-07:00

John and Han on the way to John's basketball game. So cute!

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9

So….I don’t have breast cancer. Yes, I know. You didn’t know it was a possibility. Or at least 99% of you who will read this didn’t know. About two weeks ago, on a Friday, I got a call from the imaging center where I’d done my mammogram two days before. They needed to schedule me for a second set of pictures and, maybe, an ultrasound. When I asked exactly what that meant, the voice on the phone said, “The radiologist sees something on your mammogram that he doesn’t like.” Oh, well…NOW I feel comforted. J So I scheduled the appointment for this past Tuesday, which was the first time they could get me in. I went in, had the second set of pictures done, was told the radiologist still saw something he didn’t like, and then had an ultrasound done. Finally, after a pretty scary hour of going back and forth with nurses and technicians, the ultrasound technician came and told me I as free to go. It turned out to be dense tissue instead of the mass the radiologist thought he was seeing. And so, with great joy and exultation, I went home, satisfied that this particular trial wasn’t going to be mine.

So why didn’t I tell anyone? Well, my first response was to have every single person I knew praying. But after some thought, I decided not to do that. First of all, most of the important people in my life had something going on in their own lives, with daughters and sons and fathers having all kinds of real problems, and they didn’t need one more thing to worry about. And if I wasn’t going to tell those people, then I really couldn’t tell anyone else, could I? My parents knew, but only because they asked a direct question that I could not avoid. (I can’t lie to my parents. It’s a rule. So I tried being evasive. They were having none of that.) But consideration for others going through hard circumstances wasn’t my only reason for not saying anything. In fact, it wasn’t even the biggest reason. Mostly, I wanted to test God. Not in the sense of testing to see if He loved me enough for it not to be cancer. I know many people who God loves very much who have been through various forms of cancer, some making it through and some having ultimate healing. So it wasn’t that. It was more about testing what God can do in my life in terms of my own attitudes and worries if I will just 100% surrender to Him. And it turns out, given the invitation to do so, God will take my worries and change my attitudes completely.

If you know me at all, you know that I can easily become worried and nervous about circumstances beyond my control. I can work myself—and everyone around me—into a pretty good tizzy given half a chance. And this was certainly something unexpected and completely out of my control. But I knew that I had to be calm. For one thing, there wasn’t anything to be “un-calm” about, yet. Only the possibility of it. And I was also faced with the daunting task of finding out on Friday and speaking Saturday night, Sunday morning and Sunday night in three different churches, one of which was my own. If I was going to stand up in front of people and talk about how big, good and faithful God is, then I had to be calm. And I also had to mean it. If I had an attitude asking why God would do something like this to me—and yes, I realize that’s faulty theology, but I think it’s a pretty natural first place to land—then I couldn’t stand in front of people and talk about His goodness. What is a worrier to do in this kind of circumstance?

Well, this worrier prayed. And to be honest, not over and over. Not every day. And not for it not to be cancer. Because if cancer is a road I’m going to have to travel, then it is what it is. No, I didn’t beg God or make deals with Him. Instead, I simply prayed that next morning for peace. If God is who He says He is, then peace in the midst of a storm is mine for the claiming as His child. And it wasn’t necessary for me to pray again and again for the same thing. I didn’t pray about it again until the day of the second appointment. You know why? Because I didn’t much think about it again. And I had the very real sense that God was there. He was with me when I got the call. He was with me when it crossed my mind. He was with me in the waiting room. He was with me when the technician looked at the images and frowned. He was with me as I waited for word from the ultrasound. And He was with me when I found out good news. He is with me wherever I go. And that means He is with me in whatever circumstances I face. My sorrow breaks His heart. My joy brings a smile to His face. I am His beloved. And I am never, never alone.

So what if the results had been different? Actually, that’s what I was prepared for. I only shed a couple of tears when they told me it wasn’t anything, and that was because I was so calm if it was something. J That doesn’t mean, of course, that I was anything short of absolutely thrilled to learn it was nothing. I wasn’t going in search of a fight, trust me. But I know for certain that if a fight was to be had, I would not fight alone. And that, my friends, is the peace that passes all understanding. Wherever you are in the world today, I pray that you are finding His peace in the midst of your own storm, and that you are about to have breakfast with 150 moms and daughters, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,

Kellye

Confirming the work: Psalm 90, pt. 3

2011-01-22T06:20:00.000-08:00

The girls at the beach

Han being contemplative.

I couldn't talk her out of getting in the water. Her little feet were half-frozen!

Let the favor of the LORD our God be upon us; and confirm for us the work of our hands; yes, confirm the work of our hands. Psalm 90:17

There is, of course, much more to this psalm than the few verses I've picked out here. It's rich in not only meaning, but also in beautiful, lyrical words and syntactical structures. But the parts I've concentrated on are the parts that have become particularly meaningful to me over the last few years. And I have prayed few verses more as a missionary than Psalm 90:17.

One of the hardest things I've ever done is to leave my career. Teaching, besides being something I'm called to do, is very, very rewarding. I loved being able to see the results of my efforts, sometimes in an easily quantifiable way--test scores, essay scores, etc. When I walked away from that, I stepped into a world that isn't always so easily quantified. What data can I glean from months of language study, when many days seem like you're making no progress at all? When your husband and children are your main ministry, it's not always so easy to see the results of your efforts. (Ooooooh...company dropped in unexpectedly, and my bathroom was clean! I feel good about myself now!!) So I prayed often for the LORD to confirm the work of my hands. And because He is ridiculously good and faithful, He did in so many ways.

So what does it look like when the God of the Universe confirms the work of your hands? Sometimes it looks like happy, smiling children laughing around the dinner table. Other times it's a comment from a colleague I really respect. And sometimes it's just the still, small voice on a quiet night that whispers, "You are never alone." This past Christmas, it was watching my girls, who are so different from one another, stroll on the beach and laugh together, enjoying one another, creating memories together. There was a moment when I caught a glimpse of their relationship as adults--loving and encouraging one another despite their differences--and I was reminded that, once again, a good and faithful God had confirmed the work of my hands.

Wherever you are in the world, I pray that our mighty God is daily confirming the work of your hands, and that you are having dinner tonight with old friends, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Psalm 90, pt.2: Numbering my days

2011-01-08T05:22:00.000-08:00

Both of my girls love the beach. This is Villano Beach in St. Augustine, Florida.

They also love each other, which is pretty nice. And yes, Hannah is this much taller than SB. :)

Who understands the power of Your anger and Your fury, according to the fear that is due You? So teach us to number our days, that we may present to you a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:11-12

One of the really interesting things about living overseas is coming back to the U.S. and being confronted by things in the culture that seem really strange. It's coming home to realize that Taylor Swift is a name you should know, but don't, and that the Kardashians are not from Star Trek, but L.A. It's also trying to figure out television, especially (at least for me) the fascination with reality television. I love a good sitcom, and I adore NCIS--they tell a story and develop characters. But I must be honest--I have no desire to know or be a real housewife from anywhere. Those women are scary. Why bring this up in a discussion of Psalm 90? Because it seems to me that what makes me uncomfortable about those kinds of shows (and a lot of American culture) is a lack of fear of the Lord and a desire for real wisdom.

Maybe I'm particularly attuned to this because an understanding of what real wisdom is used to be something I really struggled with--and sometimes still do. I am a teacher, and that has been how I identified myself for a long time. It was important to me to be smart. I know a great deal about my subject, particularly about literature, and I am very well-read. This was a matter of pride for me. I am an expert in something. And then I moved to Russia. And I wasn't an expert in anything. I couldn't plug in John's XBox without literally blowing it up. One day, not long after we arrived, I was crying to a colleague about feeling so stupid all the time, and she remarked, "Maybe God is stripping you of the need to be smart." OUCH. As I examined my life, I discovered that she was right. I had gotten used to depending on my knowledge, my expertise, my ideas about things. I had substituted my knowledge for God's wisdom, and what God calls wisdom--numbering my days correctly. In other words, putting together my life and my priorities in a way that honors our God, who is to be feared. He is not a genie in a bottle, who only comes out when we need something. He is not a feel good self-help guru. He is the God of the Universe, and He requires complete obedience, complete dependence on Him.

That idea--that our days correctly numbered are about God and His priorities--is the exact opposite of our culture, isn't it? Everywhere I look, there are messages telling me that I--and what I want--are the focal point of the universe. But God's truth tells me something altogether different. It's all about Him. Though the world tells me that my values lies in being thin, wealthy, and beautiful (and having strangely puffed up lips), God's word tells me that I'm valued because I'm His. His work, His creation, His. And that, my friends, is good news of great joy for all people.

Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are numbering your days correctly, and that you are headed to your son's first basketball game today, too. Blessings to You and Yours!

His,
Kellye

Psalm 90, pt. 1: I am not the center of the universe, it turns out

2011-01-06T02:38:00.000-08:00

Sheer goofiness. Hannah and Sarah Beth at the beach in St. Augustine, Florida, on New Year's Eve, 2010.

The girls.

LORD, You have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were born or You gave birth to the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, You are God. Psalm 90:1-2

Psalm 90 is one of my favorite psalms. Of course, I'm partial to Psalms as a book, anyway; I read at least one every morning as part of my quiet time. But Psalm 90 is particularly special to me, because it is one I returned to again and again during our first term on the mission field. So I wanted to take some time to share with you why the different parts of the psalm are important to me.

Please know up front that I make no claims to Biblical scholarship; I don't know any ancient languages; I can't tell you that much even about the context, especially in the psalms. But while I love to study and know those things and feel that they add a layer of understanding to my reading of Scripture, I truly believe that the strength of God's Word at work in our lives is that we don't have to know those things in order to be enlightened and enriched by Scripture. I am often moved and amazed by just the beauty of the psalms and their application to my life at any given moment.

The first two verses of Psalm 90 put me in my right place in relation to God's majesty and power. In my life (am I the only one who does this?), I can often think that my life, my problems, my situation is earth-shattering and should be at the top of God's (and everyone else's) to-do list. I find myself whining to God, "But what about me?!?!" (Aren't you glad He doesn't just throw up His hands in disgust and pronounce that He's giving up on us?) When I am feeling like the world is firmly centered on me, inevitably these verses come to mind. From everlasting to everlasting, He is God. He has been my dwelling place; He will continue to be my dwelling place. He doesn't change, nor does His goodness and mercy. No matter how things look or (especially) how they feel, no matter how dire I believe the situation to be, He will never be anything but what He is--almighty, everlasting God. I cannot look at my life in the same way when I come face to face with the God of the Ages. I can be nothing but humble when I recognize that He who birthed the earth and put the mountains in place, He who is God from eternity to eternity...He loves me. He shows me mercy and grace beyond comprehension. He is God forever, and He is mine. When I call, He hears and comes to me. When I seek Him, I find Him. I cannot be lost from Him. I am His forever. My problems, my feelings, my life cannot be the same in the face of His glory.

In a world where everything tells me that I am the most important person in the room, I am grateful for God's Word, which reminds me that I'm definitely not. You know what? Being that self-absorbed and self-important is a lot of pressure and responsibility. It's a lot of work. And it doesn't bring me joy or contentment or peace or fulfillment. But a life with the Everlasting God at its center brings all those things. And though they may not make me famous or even infamous, those things are the hallmarks of the life I desire, the life that I most treasure. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are seeking fervently a life of fulfillment in God, and that your best friend in the world is coming to your house in less than a week, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

The peace that passes understanding

2010-12-20T05:27:00.000-08:00

Sarah Beth's pretty excited about the fishing pole Aunt Kay and Uncle John got her for Christmas. Who could have predicted my girl would love fishing so much?

I especially love that John is fully involved with this laugh. My kids are nothing if not entertaining.

My Hannah. She's more beautiful on the inside than the outside...love this girl's sweet, sweet heart.

I think this was the second fish John caught. And yes, I did let him fish in his pajamas.

I will give thanks to You, O LORD my God, with all my heart, and will glorify Your name forever. For Your lovingkindness toward me is great, and You have delivered my soul from the depths of Sheoul. Psalm 86:12-13

Well, good morning and Merry Christmas! I figured before my Christmas break got too far along I'd better go ahead and write a blog, since I haven't been exactly faithful to writing as often as I'd hoped. You guys who live in America full-time--how on earth do you keep up with the pace? It's eating us alive!! But we are slowing down a bit for break, and enjoying some family time and rest. Or at least we're planning to do that. It's what I have down on my calendar, so it has to happen, right? :)

It's been a weird couple of days. On Saturday, I had a lovely cup of coffee with one of my favorite people and then went shopping. In the middle of my first store, I found out that my Dad had developed a hard spot on the back of his leg that was red, and his cardiologist wanted him to go on to the emergency room in Orange Park, thinking that it was possibly a blood clot. So off to the hospital I went. Things were complicated by the fact that Marc had to leave for Tallahassee to speak in a church there on Sunday. Thankfully, Sarah Beth was home and took over the kids. It turned out that it wasn't a blood clot, but it was a staff infection that had caused Daddy to develop cellulitis. It turns out that cellulitis is extremely painful, and it was hard watching Daddy be in pain. (The best story--when he stood up to get in the wheelchair to head to his room from the emergency room, the pain was so bad that he yelled, "Oh, my GOSH!" He sat down really quickly, and then said to the guy with the wheelchair, "I'm so sorry." Ha! I'm pretty sure 'gosh' was the mildest thing he'd heard all day!) But after 24 hours of really high powered antibiotics, he was so much better. They may even let him go home with just oral antibiotics today. I'm so thankful. So, so thankful. Did I mention that I'm thankful?

Most of December (and part of November) has been taken up with what we've come to call The Lottie Moon Tour. We have been in different churches every weekend, sometimes two or three. And while that has been exhausting, it has also been really refreshing. Many of the churches we've been in have been small congregations of around 100 people. Oh, my goodness...the sweetness of these people, the overwhelming kindness they have shown us, their sacrificial giving so that people like us can live on the mission field...unbelievable. One of my favorite moments happened in a small church not too far from where we live. Marc had spoken about the Chuvash, and the pastor said, "Let's be one of those churches who prays for the Chuvash. If you want to pray for these people, come down to the altar, and let's have a time of prayer for them." Of course, pastors give that kind of invitation to pray at the altar all the time, so I wasn't particularly taken aback by that. What brought me to tears was when I looked up and the entire congregation was heading down the aisle, including a woman in a wheelchair and another with a cane. There they all knelt, the whole church, praying together for a people group they'd never heard of, halfway around the world, but who they loved because we love them and because God loves them. Oh, my goodness! The sweet, sweet spirit in that room was precious to me. Even writing this, I am overwhelmed by the ways in which these small congregations have ministered to us, who came to minister to them. I am thankful to serve a God who not only knows exactly what our spirits need, but who also provides exactly what we need in such interesting and unexpected ways. The Lottie Moon tour has been an excellent, soul-nurturing opportunity to connect with more Southern Baptist churches than I could have ever predicted. And I am so thankful for that.

The strangest stop on the Lottie tour for me was last week, when I spoke at my own church. I never get nervous when I have to speak, but I was VERY nervous last week. I'm not really sure why--our church has certainly showered us with love since we came back, providing a home and utilities and cars and food...so much more than I could ever list here. But there's something about speaking to people who know you...it was different for me. It went well, I think, and our church raised its Lottie Moon goal (plus a bunch) in one day, so I'm very grateful for that. But it was definitely different for me to speak to so many people I know.

Yesterday, our pastor preached a sermon about taking a different route (based on Matthew 2:12, where the magi go back a different way in order to avoid Herod), and one of the things he said really struck me. He was talking about ways you know God is directing you in a different path, and he talked about the peace of Christ confirming for us what we believe God is telling us. And I thought about all the ways in which God has confirmed our path for us. There is no part of me that longs to remain in the States. I am grateful for my time here. I loved singing in the Christmas program (especially the rendition of Little Drummer Boy with the Clay High drum line..what fun!), and I am loving all the American Christmas stuff--shopping and making goodies for folks--and I am, of course, eating up the time with my parents. And that is not to say that there aren't hard things about leaving, too. We will leave Sarah Beth on one continent and live on another continent, and that will be so difficult for me to do, because I am clearly nuts about my girl. And I will miss my family and friends here while I am over there. But our life is there. And as hard as it is, as much as I don't want to go back into language training, as much as I am not looking forward to dark months of ice and snow...it's my life. And I love it. There is a great joy and contentment in not only doing that to which Christ has called you, but in being the person Christ has called you to be. It is a joy and contentment and peace that is worth whatever sacrifice I am called to make. And that peace, that inexplicable, overwhelming peace that passes all understanding...that peace is a confirmation that we are doing what we are called to do, what we are meant to do, what we are created to do.

It's time for me to get moving. No one here is even awake, yet, but SB and I are doing some shopping today, so I probably should get her up and going. I am attempting to get everything done today and tomorrow, because I will be having some lovely oral surgery on Wednesday, and I am planning on getting some rest after that. While I am not looking forward to the dental work, I am in a good amount of pain, and I am looking forward to that being over. :) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are basking in the glow of Christmas with your family, and that you have come up with a pretty good Christmas surprise for your husband, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Giving thanks with a grateful heart

2010-11-29T02:46:00.000-08:00

John with my great-nephew, JJ. Two pretty sweet boys right here!

My kids are funny. I like that John is fully involved in a cackle here.

The fam. Oh, my word...I am one blessed woman!

Come and hear, all who fear God, and I will tell of what He has done for my soul. Psalm 66:16

NOTE: I wrote this while away from any internet connection last week.

I know it has been forever since I updated this. The pace of life in America has taken me a bit by surprise, and I have yet to feel that my life is somewhat organized. But I promised myself I would write at least one blog while on vacation and post it when I return, so here I am, early Wednesday morning, sitting on the dock with my Bible, this notebook and pen, and a rather strong cup of coffee. We are in east Texas at my sister and brother-in-law's lake house. We came in from Florida (via a speaking engagement in Alabama on Sunday) on Monday afternoon, and the rest of the family came in last night. Sarah Beth arrived late last night with her cousin, Katie, who drove her down from Tulsa. Now we are all here, ready to enjoy some time together. There will be games, bonfires and roasted marshmallows, and lots and lots of fishing.

We have spent a good part of the last few weeks traveling. We took Hannah home to Oklahoma for Marc's 20th college reunion. I have to be honest--that kind of thing never really enticed me much, which is surprising, because I loved college. But I'm so glad we went back. What a great time we had--seeing old friends, showing Hannah the campus, seeing some of our kids from Moscow. It confirmed for me something I'd really thought about as my kids got older--the importance of a Christian education. So much of who I am and what I believe was formed and shaped by my OBU experience. Don't get me wrong--I'm very proud of my degree from UF. However, I could not have done the giant, 4-year state university at 18. OBU was perfect for me. JBU is the perfect place for Sarah Beth. Wherever the other two wind up, I pray it will be at a Christian university, where Godly men and women can influence them in the same way those at OBU influenced me.

We left Saturday for Dothan, Alabama, where we spent the night before speaking at FBC Headland, Alabama, on Sunday morning. The real treat for us in Dothan was seeing our friends, Barb and Troy, and their kids. They came in from their home in Graceville, Florida, and spent the afternoon and early evening with us. What a blessing it is to spend time with precious friends we haven't seen since July, 2007. A lot has happened in the lives of both families, but the fellowship hasn't changed a bit. It amazes me how God brings people together to encourage and renew each other...just one more reminder of His faithfulness.

As for the future--everyone's question of late--we're still headed back to Europe. We think it looks like next summer/early fall. And we don't know where, yet. (Yes, that IS making me a little nutty!) What I appreciate about that, though, is that the indecision is based on not only what is best for our team, but what is best for our family, particularly our kids. We are praying only that God would guide our supervisor as he makes decisions, and that He would prepare our hearts for wherever our next home might be. I will tell you this--we have certainly prayed over whether or not we should return. We honestly looked at whether God was calling us here or there. And I can say without a doubt that He is calling us back to Europe. We have had enough confirmation of that from enough different sources that we are not questioning our next step at all.

So that's the blog from the dock. The wind is starting to really pick up, and my paper is not longer cooperating, so that's my cue to end. I am looking forward to a great day with people I really love. That's a great deal to be thankful for in and of itself. And when I think that it's only one blessing in a life showered with blessings...well, that's enough to leave me speechless. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are counting your many blessings, and that your husband just sat down next to you with a fishing pole, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

An update for Ada

2010-10-23T05:03:00.000-07:00

I don't really know what to say about this, except that Hannah is really enjoying being in America for a while. :)

Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness. Delight yourself in the LORD; and He will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:3-4

It's been a while, and a certain someone (Ada Wiisanen) has been after me to update this, so I decided while the house was quiet this morning, I would do just that. There's a lot to tell you, but there's not a lot to tell you at the same time. Life is pretty much what you would expect--I go to work, Marc works at home, the kids go to school, we talk to Sarah Beth frequently, and then we do all of that all over again. We get to see people we haven't seen in a while, we get to do things that are American, we get to eat food we haven't eaten for a while...that's not very interesting stuff to write about, is it? It's fun, and we're enjoying all of that (although American food makes my feet swell...how much salt is there in prepackaged stuff?!), but I'm pretty sure a monologue about eating at a particular restaurant isn't why you log on and read this blog. (If it is, get help. Seriously...something is not quite right with that!)

One of the things we are really enjoying about being home is the many opportunities we have had and will have (especially in the next two months) to talk to churches and associations about the work going on in Europe. I love to speak to different groups about the amazing view of God we've been given during our time on the mission field. It is definitely a unique experience, and we are always thrilled to talk about it. I love the questions we get--everything from food we eat overseas to whether or not we're afraid to live in Russia. People are curious about the language, the kind of people Russians and Czechs are, the places we lived, what we've seen, how our children like being MKs...generally anything about our lives overseas. But what they get really excited about is when we talk about how all of those ordinary (and sometimes extraordinary) things have given God opportunities again and again to show Himself faithful, not just to our little family, but to people all over the world. It is an exciting story, and we are honored to tell it. We also love the chance to thank Southern Baptists all over the U.S. for giving to Lottie Moon and the Cooperative Program, the mechanisms our denomination uses to fund our ministry overseas. We will be doing a lot of that in the next two months, and we're so excited to be able to do that. We are headed out this morning to St. Johns county, where we'll be speaking at a missions conference for the next two days spread out all over the St. Johns Baptist Association. While I know I will be tired by the time we arrive home Sunday night, I am very excited about the chance to tell His story to more people.

Work is fine. I'm so grateful for the job and the steady income it's providing. And I, of course, love to teach. But it's clear to me that my career as a teacher does not have the hold on me it used to have. I'm enjoying myself, I'm loving kids, I'm loving the chance to talk about great books and writing and grammar, but it isn't an enticement for me to stay on this side of the pond like we thought it would be. I prayed and prayed about taking the job, because I was worried (along with Marc and our closest friends) that Marc would never get me back to the mission field. But it has not been that way at all. I'm enjoying it, I'm grateful for it, but I definitely have a sense that I don't fit in that world very well anymore. People are very nice and gracious to me, but I'm definitely an outsider in a way that I wasn't before. And, of course, in three years the school has changed a great deal. I don't know all that many people. So I go, I teach my classes, I do my best to love kids, and then I go home and live my "real" life.

Other than that, life just goes on. We are filling out paperwork to return to the field, working on getting medical clearance for us and the kids, and trying to take every opportunity to do fun stuff together. We are not quite sure where we are heading back to, and that's a long story that I won't get into, but we like the different options we've been given. We are praying through them, listening to the different voices around us, and waiting for God to reveal His perfect plan. One thing I have definitely learned in the last three years is that I would rather follow His plan in every situation. His best is always better than whatever plan I concoct on my own. And He is so faithful to reveal Himself and His plan if we just listen. So we're living our life, going to our speaking engagements, and having a lot of fun...but always with an ear to the ground to see what God may be telling us about what is next.

So that's it. The whole story of our life in America. Okay, probably not the whole story, but the amount of the story I have time to write about this morning. We are glad to be here, but we miss being there. We desperately miss our friends overseas, American, Czech and Russian. We are thrilled to give witness to how God has been at work, but we are also looking forward to the way God will continue to be at work in our lives and in the nations. And we are honored that God chose our little pot-of-clay family to be witnesses to what He is doing around the world. So there you go, Ada. There's your update. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that no matter how ordinary your life may seem, you are constantly aware of the way God is at work, and that you are looking forward to a couple of days of doing nothing but talking about God's work in your life, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Super Weird

2010-08-30T18:34:00.000-07:00

Sarah Beth in her dorm room.

The three of us at the cafe downstairs in the student center.

John did not want to say goodbye. Not even a little.

So with joy--with joy!--you sell it all, you abandon it all. Why? Because you have found something worth losing everything else for. --David Platt, Radical

It would be quite the understatement to say that a lot has changed since the last time I wrote on this blog. Hmmm...we have returned to America, Sarah Beth has gone to college, I have gone back to teaching full-time, the kids are in public school, and Marc is touring the country talking to churches. A little different than it looked a month ago. A month ago, I was sweating through the hottest summer I have ever experienced. Now, I'm wearing a sweater all the time, because I can't get used to the air conditioning. A month ago, it took me an hour to make even the simplest dinner, because everything had to be made from scratch. Now, I'm reveling in the glory that is the American mix. :)

We arrived in the States to find that our church had gone completely overboard preparing a home for us. I'm not kidding--I have yet to do an actual grocery run. I've bought a few things here and there, but mostly, we are still living on food provided by our church. Unbelievable. And from time to time, we are the recipients of drive by giftings, where we arrive home to find something in a bag on the door for us. So sweet. What a pleasure and a joy to be truly loved by a church. A tremendous blessing to us, and a sweet refreshment to our worn-out spirits.

The kids are adjusting. Hannah is doing extremely well, loving school, enjoying friends, inviting everyone she meets to church. John is having a harder time. A new country--one he really doesn't remember much--a big church--different from the 20 Russians we went to church with overseas--and a school where everyone has been together for a long time are making his adjustment a little harder. He'll get there eventually, but it's not an easy time right now. Of course, his sissy leaving and his Daddy being gone haven't made his transition any easier, but such is life.

Marc is doing well, I think, enjoying his time in churches talking about Engage Russia. He misses being overseas, but he's enjoying the time with friends and family here, too. He has lots of interesting opportunities in front of him, and I know he's really excited about what the next year holds and the chance he will have to make connections with churches all over the States. Plus, he's Marc...he's generally a happy sort of fella. God bless him.

As for me...hmmmm...life is weird. It's good. It's positive. But it's super weird. The only thing that isn't weird for me is teaching, which is simply how I engage the world around me. I am really enjoying the time with kids, and I have several situations where I can see God's hand in having me in a particular kid's life for this season. Church is great, though I only know about sixty percent of the people in our church now. I'm singing in the choir, which is fun and wonderful for me. I go to Sunday School, I sing, I go to church, I go to choir practice...I have essentially slipped back into my old life. Super weird.

Because here's the thing...it's my old life, but I'm not my old self. The lens with which I view the world has drastically changed. I have drastically changed in a thousand tangible and intangible ways over the last three years. I cannot--and don't want to--be the person I was before. It's impossible. So I am a new me who looks like the old me living in the old me's life. Like I said, super weird.

So what does that mean? I don't know. Not a clue. Still clearly feel God's call upon my life and the life of my family. Still believe we are destined to be overseas. Still in love with a place that is not my own. Still completely sold on the idea that no matter what we are asked to give up, no matter what we are asked to sacrifice or turn our back on...a life serving Jesus wherever He leads is totally worth it. Crazy? Maybe. But knowing what I know now about truly following Him...I wouldn't choose any other life, no matter how easy that life seems. Not for all the mixes in the world.

Well, time for bed. I am getting up at 4:30 every morning, and it's taking its toll. The good news is that Marc will be home tomorrow, God willing and the creek don't rise. :) I am definitely ready to see my man! Wherever you are in the world, I pray that your life is not super weird, that the God of the universe is in control even if your life is super weird, and that your husband is coming home from Texas tomorrow, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Faithful

2010-07-24T21:40:00.000-07:00

Hannah working this week at English camp. She did an incredible job working with around 30 children doing crafts. So proud of our girl!

Possibly my favorite picture of John and Laini ever taken. This typifies their relationship--in a room full of people, I am pretty sure they only see each other. My children are blessed with incredible friends.

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

I have dreaded writing this blog, and so I have put it off until now, our last full day on the field for this term. I got very little sleep last night, and I finally got up around 5 this morning and have been puttering around the house. Our bags are packed (except the laundry that is drying on the racks), the house is clean (except for under the stove and vacuuming), and we have very little left to do here, except the thing we dread the most--saying goodbye.

I could write a whole blog about leaving. I could tell you about the tears shed, how we dread saying goodbye to the Lewises, to Plzen, to the Czech Republic, to this life for the next year. I could write about how excited we are to be going to America, to our family, to our friends, to our church...and all the hellos we are looking forward to saying in the next weeks and months. Those would both be easy topics to write about this morning. But the purpose of this blog has always been to give you a glimpse not of the called, but of the One who calls. And so, this morning's blog is about the ways He has been faithful to me in the last three years on the mission field.

My children: The hardest thing I have ever done is watch my children struggle through the last three years. No mother anywhere treasures the suffering of her child. My children have had great experiences on the mission field, but they have also had difficult, scary, and heartbreaking experiences on the mission field. They have made tremendous friendships, but they have also had to say goodbye to those friends again and again and again. They have lived in two cultures that are very, very different from their own. They have been yelled at by complete strangers on the street for not wearing a hat or not being bundled enough against the cold. They have had to learn one beastly Slavic language only to move to a place where the Slavic language spoken is just enough different to be incomprehensible. It's been hard, and they have struggled. But they have also thrived. Sarah Beth discovered a facility with language that shocked us all--she picked up tons of Russian just by listening on the metro and walking in parks. Hannah discovered she was a natural musician, even though her music teacher didn't speak English, and she took lessons in Russian and Czech. John John discovered that his love for all humankind is a pretty good way to make friends in spite of language differences. And their Mom discovered that no matter how much I love my kids...God loves them so much more. He is beyond trustworthy. He is beyond merciful. He is beyond compassionate.

My husband: Let me say this about Marc--he never struggled to be on the field. Never. He struggled to watch the rest of us struggle, because he loves us, and he wants us to be happy. But he was a pig in slop from the moment he set foot on Russian soil. Never in my life have I witnessed anyone fit into a job more perfectly than Marc fit into being a missionary. He worried about the language, but he speaks and understands far better than I do, and certainly far better than he should with as much language training as he received. He discovered a love for anthropology and ethnography that surprised him. And his passionate love for the "little nations"--ethnic groups within the many republics that comprise the Russian Federation--is contagious. I dare you to talk to him about the Chuvash and then try not to pray for them. It's impossible. His passion for the unreached people groups of Russia is inspiring. He makes me want to move to some tiny village and pump my own water in order to reach them. (That's a running joke with my missionary friends...Marc is, at some point, going to convince me to move somewhere where I have an outhouse and have to pump my own water. Wait and see.) When we are gathered at the throne, and every nation and tribe and tongue is there, including the Chuvash, the Mordvin, the Karellian...I firmly believe some will be there because God chose an ordinary video guy from Middleburg, Florida, and then showed him he is more than just Luke telling Paul's story...he's Paul, too.

My family: Want to know people who are excited about missions? Talk to my parents and sisters. No one, and I mean NO ONE could have had a more supportive immediate family than mine. They have visited, sent packages, called, sent cards, talked on skype, and just generally been the most incredible support system anyone could have. When volunteer teams come to work with us, inevitably someone asks, "And what do your parents think about you being a missionary?" I always say the same thing. I've said it for a while now, and it's absolutely true. I am 100% the person my parents raised me to be. I'm sure they would have loved nothing better than if I had stayed in Middleburg and they could have been at everything for my kids. But never once have they complained. Never. I'm sure they would love for us to return somewhere a little easier than Russia. But they have never been anything but supportive. And when the time came for us to go, they never suggested that God should send somebody else's child and not theirs. It has been hard being away from them, and when I see my Momma and Daddy tomorrow night, I'm pretty sure there will be some jumping up and down, but just like God loves my children, He loves my parents and sisters far more than I can even comprehend.

Myself: It is not possible with mere words to explain every way in which God has been faithful to show me who I really am in Him. I will say that I am not returning to Florida the same person I left. I have never been more miserable than I was the first few months we were in Moscow. I really think I cried most nights. I missed my family and friends and church, but most of all, I missed my life. I missed being "someone." I missed being confident. I missed knowing how to buy meat. :) But even in my misery, I knew that I was not alone. Standing at my kitchen window, looking out at the city, I knew He was with me. And it wasn't because I felt something or had some emotional response to something...I knew because He promised He would be and because He is always true to His promises. He said He would never leave me nor forsake me...and He never did. And no matter how I felt, no matter what my emotions told me...I knew He was true and faithful. And even in things I haven't liked or enjoyed--conflicts, moving, saying goodbye again and again, struggling with my weight, missing my family--even in these things, He has been faithful. Faithful to show me who I am in Him. Faithful to show me that He is in control. Faithful to love me even when I am not very lovable. And faithful to grow in me a love and a passion for the people to whom He has called me. He is faithful, faithful, faithful. I will proclaim it until my dying breath. He is faithful.

And so begins our last day of this term. I could write so much more--about priceless friendships, precious colleagues, and beloved national partners. About people we pray for daily to come to know the Lord. About people we will miss terribly. But it all comes back to the same thing...He is faithful and compassionate and merciful beyond measure. He has loved me so much that there is no way to describe it adequately. And so, as I prepare my heart to climb aboard a jet in the morning and set foot on American soil for the first time in a long time, I am so thankful for the experiences and relationships and joy that He has given me in the last three years. And I am thankful for the struggles and difficulties and heartbreak of the last three years. And above all, I am thankful for a God who has so passionately pursued every part of me. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know how faithful our God is from your own experience, and that you are almost ready to fly home, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Finding the secret place

2010-07-11T23:18:00.000-07:00

Hannah with her pal, Beary Bear. He was a gift from her good friend, Robert.

Me and the Han on Red Square. She doesn't quite look like she did when we left the States three years ago. We've decided to invest in a dungeon for both our girls. You think that'll work?

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness; that my soul may sing praise to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever. Psalm 30:11-12

I only have a couple of minutes this morning, but I thought an update was in order. We leave the Czech Republic two weeks from today for the States, and we are deep into packing and chaos. :) Actually, at this point it's going pretty well, so the chaos is at a minimum. If we could get the temperature to cool down a bit, that would help. However, that isn't going to happen this week, so no use complaining about it. Suffice to say that it's a little bit like living in a sauna.

I had an interesting experience last night. I was looking through some things on a flash drive and found all of my writing for our original IMB application. Wow--was that an interesting read! Some of it tickled me a little...some of it made me teary. All of it made me stand in awe at the way God has worked in my life and in the life of our family in the last three years. So much of what He has done in my life and in my walk with Him has been about learning to rest in Him, to let myself reside in what the psalmist calls "the secret place." For me, that has meant learning to have a quietness in my quiet time, to sit and listen, to pay more attention to what He's saying and doing than in what I'm requesting from Him. You know where I discovered the secret place? In my kitchen in Moscow. Staring out at that city, knowing I could not put into words my anguish for myself, for my children, and for those we were there to minister to--just sitting and looking out the window--that's where I learned about the secret place of God. I'm not sure I could have learned that in a comfortable place for me. Maybe you can. I'm definitely not admonishing everyone who reads this to head overseas in order to really know God, because one thing I've learned is that how God is at work in me is not always how He is at work in someone else. For me it was necessary for God to pull me out of my comfort zone and teach me in a place where I--literally--could not depend on myself. Only in Him, only in His path for my life--only in the secret place is there contentment and joy and success. I learned that at my kitchen table in Moscow.

I'm thankful for the hardness of the last three years. Nothing about our time on the field has been easy or come easily. Language, culture, homeschooling...none of that has been an easy fit for me. (Not true for Marc--give him some totems, below-freezing temps, and a Russian village where you have to pump your own water and he's like a pig in slop.) But it's been in the struggle, in the times where I simply did not know where to turn or what to do or how to act that God has shown Himself completely enough. Enough for me. Enough for my marriage. Enough for my kids. I love my friends on the field, and I adore my friends and family at home, but if that was stripped away from me, I know that He is still enough. Everything else is just my cup running over with the blessings of a God who loves me beyond my comprehension. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you have found God's secret place, that you know that He is completely enough for you, and that you are taking two little people to DinoPark today, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Home

2010-06-23T22:57:00.000-07:00

In front of the Pushkin statue on Old Arbat in Moscow. We don't study Pushkin much in the States, but Russians consider him one of their greatest writers. When people discover that I am a literature teacher, they always ask, "And do you know our Pushkin?" I do, now. :)

Kids in the Metro. Unless you've been there, you cannot appreciate how far underground the metro actually is. If I thought about it much, it would probably make me uneasy. I don't think about it.

This is for Hannah. It's a Russian pun--The words at the top (Kartofel Free) are referring to the Potatoheads running free in the picture, but it's also how you say french fries. Get it? Get it? Okay, maybe it's only funny in Russian.

So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It's your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it. Colossians 3 The Message

I am enjoying a second cup of coffee and some quiet while the kids are still asleep upstairs. Marc is traveling in Russia on another Engage Russia trip, and Hannah and John and I are here in Czech Republic. I have to admit to you that in the summer, when it is light outside until nearly midnight, I'm not very good at getting my kids to bed at any kind of decent hour, and I let them sleep late. It's not as bad in Czech Republic as Russia, but it's still pretty light outside late at night. Last night we stayed up late playing Phase Ten and laughing at each other. It was the first time John played our family's favorite card game, and he did pretty well. It will be fun for all of us to be able to play when we're back together.

Our time in Russia was unbelievably wonderful. We loved hearing a language we could understand and speak. We loved being with friends, both in Moscow and from all over the Russian-speaking world as our cluster had its general meeting. We loved the time to sing in English, the time to learn from a great speaker, the time to share stories of God working in ways we couldn't have imagined if we had tried. We loved being...home.

Have you ever gone on a wonderful trip to a beautiful place, but sighed in relief when you came around the corner and saw your own house, sitting there waiting for you to return? That's how coming back to Russia was for us. The Czech Republic is a beautiful place. The people are wonderful, kind, generous, and very forgiving of my lack of facility with their language. We live in a great house in a city we love. But this is not home. Russia is home. We are looking forward to going to the States for a year and seeing people we love and miss. But Russia is home. Everywhere we went, God confirmed that for us. Four hours of Russian with our language teacher left our brains complete mush, but left our hearts encouraged and filled. Time with our friend, Sergei, when we gave him a book and a copy of the Jesus film as a birthday gift, left us filled with gratitude for this Chuvash man God put in our hearts six months before our work with the Chuvash began. Time with our American friends left us encouraged and edified. Watching Hannah, who struggled so hard for so long to be in Russia, speak Russian and be so content and comfortable there left us amazed at a God who loves our children so much more than we can even comprehend. You get the idea...God showed us so many ways in which He is and has been at work in our lives.

As we made our way around the city doing various things, it was clear to me that God had given us this time to reconfirm in our hearts our commitment and love for Russia. Everywhere we went, it seemed, Marc had a "guy." A matroyshka guy at the souvenir park, a shashlik (Russian barbecue) guy, our favorite waitress at TGIFriday's. We didn't make it to the southern end of the orange line to see our fruit ladies (they sold us fruit on our nightly walks and became our friends), but to see the look in the faces of people as they recognized us, were glad to see us...what a sweet gift from the Lord. To see Hannah and our language teacher, Irina, arm in arm chatting with one another, to watch Irina's face as John ran to her...precious to us. Even down to the Russian language, which I feared I had completely lost while in the Czech Republic, God found ways to encourage us. I bought a couple of t-shirts for Hannah, and the lady who sold them to me asked me why I spoke such good Russian. Now, let me make it clear that I speak terrible Russian, but just being understood is enough to encourage me. And somehow, God had used my time in Czech Republic to strengthen my Russian. If you can figure that out, more power to you, because I can't. But I'm oh, so grateful.

And so, in all things, we give thanks. We give thanks for wonderful friends, for music and teaching and preaching, for movements of God across the Russian-speaking peoples. We give thanks for things we don't understand, for decisions we must make, for friends who praise God in the midst of difficulty. We give thanks for our children's friendships, for people to miss while we are gone, for new friendships we will cultivate when we return. We give thanks for some difficulties at passport control in Moscow, for the ticket counter lady who was suspicious of our passports and visas (and for enough Russian to understand her), for the people on the bus who would not help with our bags, for a long trip back home without Daddy. We give thanks for our time left in Plzen, for our relationships here, for the chance to teach three more Bible lessons at Bible study, for our relationships at church. And we give thanks that in 32 days we will be on American soil, for time with our parents, for our church who is providing a place for us to live, for time with Sarah Beth before we take her to college. Even in the hard, even in the bittersweet, in all things, we give thanks.

And now, it's time to get to work. So many things to sort through, so many things to give away, so many decisions about what to take home. Our clothes are so pitiful that very little will make it into a suitcase headed to America--we will definitely be the ragamuffin family when we get off the plane! We took our very best to Russia, and even that isn't in great shape. But it's okay, because clothes are just clothes. Things are just things. The important things we are bringing back to America are intangibles--memories, relationships, time with God...those things pack pretty light. :) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know where home really is, and that you are going to beat your 13 and 9-year-old in Phase 10 today, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Pulling Weeds

2010-05-31T22:43:00.000-07:00

The original city wall of Plzen, built (I think) in 1295. There is only a small section of it left.

The tower of St. Bart's Cathedral on the square offers a pretty amazing view of our city. Here is the Big Synagogue of Plzen. Isn't our city beautiful?!

But sin didn't, and doesn't, have a chance in competition with the aggressive forgiveness we call grace. When it's sin versus grace, grace wins hands down. Romans 5, The Message

I want to acknowledge up front that this post was almost required of me by my friend, Frances Courson. When I announced on Facebook that I was looking forward to a day of pulling weeds in my back yard, her comment was that she was sure I would make that into some sort of spiritual application on my blog. Certainly, I cannot just ignore that challenge. :) Of course, there are some pretty easy spiritual applications to make from weed pulling, aren't there? I'm sure none of these conclusions is going to be something new and miraculous to you, but maybe you, like I, can use a good reminder that sometimes we have to pull the weeds in our lives. So here are my spiritual applications from the back-breaking work of pulling weeds.

Sometimes, the big weeds have tiny little roots and are easier to get rid of than we think they're going to be. There were prickly weeds all over my yard, and some of them were huge. I'm talking HUGE (I thought they were plants at first. Don't judge me.) But when I went to pull them out, they just came out. What I had pictured as the torturous job of pulling them, something I dreaded and had put off, wasn't that big a deal. Isn't that true with things we think are huge and difficult to overcome? Sometimes those things turn out to be no big deal, easily handled. When I went to Russia, the darkness (the literal darkness) overwhelmed me. It became to me this huge monster that I could not live with, but could not get rid of, either. But because of my pride (another weed of mine, by the way), I would not ask for help until I was absolutely desperate. When I DID ask for help, I was given a lamp specifically designed for people who have trouble with the darkness. Poof. Problem fixed. Never had a problem with it again. Big weed, little teeny roots.

Some of the tiny little weeds had deep, deep roots and were difficult to pull. The opposite is also true. Some of the little grass that I pulled from the flower beds had roots down to China and were really hard to get rid of. Hmmmm...can you think of anything in your life that looks like a little problem, but turns into a BIG, deep-rooted problem that you really have to work at fixing? I can. For me, insecurity is the ugly little grass that continually pops up in my flower bed. While I present to the world at large the face of someone who is confident in who she is, it's a complete lie. Given half a moment to pop up, insecurity whispers in my ear at every turn. You know what it whispers? "They don't like you." It doesn't matter who the 'they' is, I am pretty sure that anyone who knows me probably doesn't like me all that much. And given a whole second to take hold, this little grass completely takes over my flower bed. I am not good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, thin enough (NEVER thin enough), spiritual enough....the list goes on and on and on. Whatever the adjective, I am not enough of it, or I'm too much of it. Too emotional, too dramatic, too demonstrative...you get the idea. The roots on this little weed can strangle me.
I cannot pull them all at once. I have to do a section at a time, or I am overwhelmed and give up. Ever listened to a sermon and just decided to completely change everything about yourself in one fell swoop? I have. I think we all have, if we're honest. How did that go for you? In my experience, it doesn't go all that well. For me (and I'm not making a universal statement here--I'm talking about only for me), real change in my life is gradual, little baby steps. When I decide to completely change this or that, I usually fail. But when I decide to let God change things (as opposed to me forcing them to change) and then really pay attention, I can see things changing around me and in me. And then I can move on to the next change.
My back yard doesn't have to look like the neighbor's. It has to look like mine. Some of my neighbors have beautifully landscaped yards. Some don't. Mine is somewhere in the middle of that. I only have 55 days left here, and I don't want to invest tons of money in plants, etc., but I want it to look nice, both for my neighbors and for my landlord, who will need to rent this place when we're gone. I want to make my yard the best it can be, but I don't have to make it like someone else's. I have spent way too much time on the field (and in life) comparing myself to others and always finding myself lacking. A perfect example is my weight. For the most part, people with my company are pretty thin, because they have to be--we are self-insured and have weight requirements because of that. I lost a lot of weight to come to the field, but when I arrived, I was still one of the heaviest people there. And I've struggled from day one with my weight. I will be going back to Weight Watchers the second I step foot on American soil, because I've put on weight and I can't seem to get it off, no matter what I do. So to me, weight has become a huge monster in my life. And I tend to think that anyone who doesn't struggle with it like I do isn't struggling with anything. They are perfect, they lead perfect lives, have perfect marriages, perfect children, perfect everything. Now, we all know that's a lie, right? Nobody anywhere is leading a perfect life. But when I compare my life to others, I am doing myself (and them) a disservice. God didn't call me to be anyone else. He called me to be Kellye. And Kellye struggles with weight. But I don't struggle with an abusive background or a terrible childhood or a family who doesn't want me on the mission field. Everyone struggles with something. Comparing myself to others...a waste of my time and theirs.

So there you go, Frances. Spiritual applications from pulling weeds. By the way--I'm still not finished pulling them. It keeps raining. They keep sprouting up in places I'm not expecting them. Yeah, yeah...another application. I'll let you all make that one on your own. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are daily pulling up the weeds in your life, and that you are going to your favorite place on earth in a week, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

A challenge to churches

2010-05-11T23:36:00.000-07:00

Me and the Han at the Prague Zoo. Do you think the church will let us install a dungeon in the mission house? Because I think we may need one.

Han and Marc. This shows you a lot about Han's personality. I'll just leave it at that.

"Look among the nations! Observe! Be astonished! Wonder! Because I am doing something in your days--you would not believe if you were told." Habakkuk 1:5

These are dark, dark days at the Hooks house. No, I'm not talking about our darling Sarah Beth's absence. No, I'm not talking about the financial stresses of living on the mission field. No, I'm not talking about the loneliness of being away from friends and family. What is it, you ask? What has caused this dismal gloom? I am out of ranch dressing mix, onion soup mix, and Italian dressing mix, and I am nearly out of fat-free flavored coffee creamer and Crystal Light raspberry lemonade mix. Sob. Pardon me. I need to pull myself together.

Of course, I'm joking. Though we are out of those things, one of the nice things about living in Czech Republic is that while it's nice to have those things, there are plenty of good things here that we can easily get. Not necessarily substitutes, but things with which we can easily live. Our life here is a good one, an enjoyable one. And so, though we love ranch dressing, we'll likely survive its absence from our shelves. We've also been incredibly blessed to have so many people--friends, family, Sunday School classes--who have sent us so much over the last three years, giving us a little taste of home. That means a great deal in the middle of a dark, cold winter.

I've been thinking a great deal about churches lately. Not just churches in general, but specifically how Southern Baptist churches support their missionaries. If you are at all clued in to Southern Baptist life, you know that there are many changes in the works regarding how we cooperate to do ministry. The IMB, our company, is the largest mission-sending organization in the world, and that's a pretty hefty expense. In these times of economic downturn, everyone is looking for new and innovative ways to fund missions, both inside and outside the U.S. I'm not qualified to make any comments on the Cooperative Program (beyond that I am for it) or "Great Commission Giving" (beyond that I am for it). I am not an expert in how things should be done, and that's not really what I want to write about, anyway. What I want to talk about is how individual churches "do" missions.

This week, we have a volunteer team from FBC Forney, Texas. Great, sweet folks. We have thoroughly enjoyed our time with them. (They are having a Tex-Mex night tomorrow at English club...we are especially excited about that!) I went with them yesterday to a gymnasium (a kind of school here) to spend a couple of hours with some Czech middle schoolers. Unlike the U.S., where a mission team certainly could not come into a public school and talk about God, Czechs have seemingly no problem with that. (Interesting, since CZ is one of the most atheistic nations on earth.) It was a great, great time--so much fun for me, for whom a room full of kids is paradise on earth. But what struck me afterward was not just that it was fun, but that it was a paradigm shift (I'm taking that from Marc, by the way) in how Southern Baptists do missions.

FBC Forney is not a newcomer to Plzen. They have sent teams again and again and again. They work in the schools here, and they have created lasting relationships with people that have allowed them access to places the ordinary person would not have. Those relationships have also created ways for Larry and Melissa to have relationships with people they might not otherwise know. I hope you are noticing a word that I keep repeating--relationships. In our part of the world (I would argue this is true everywhere), relationships are everything in terms of church planting and discipleship. Long years of communism have created a lack of trust in everything for the people of the former Soviet Union. Relationships make it possible for us to earn the right to tell people about Jesus and have them listen. And relationships are not always easy to build and maintain. So what FBC Forney is doing by coming back again and again is invaluable to the work in this city. Their commitment is furthering the work of church planting in this city.

So how is that a paradigm shift? Because FBC Forney is not paying us to be the missions professionals. They aren't putting money in the plate every week and thinking that absolves them of any further work. They aren't taking a missions "vacation," either. Their teams don't go somewhere different every year, seeing the world and spreading Jesus at the same time. They are committed to this city. That's not to say it's the only place in the world they are committed to, but they are committed to this city. They are here to help the people on the ground, certainly, and they are great about bringing things we can use for ministry. But I'm pretty sure that if something happens and there is no one in this city from our company...they will still be here. Because they have committed to this place. And that commitment is working.

Other churches have these kinds of relationships, certainly. Our church, FBC Middleburg, Florida, has a long-standing relationship with an area in Brazil. We send teams every year, making relationships that further the gospel. FBC Allen, Texas, (which we consider our second home church) has a relationship in Cheboksary, Russia--a place where we have no personnel. They are working with a Baptist church there and a wonderful pastor--Sasha Franchuk--to whom they have committed. But for many Baptist churches, putting their money in the offering plate every week is as far as their missions involvement goes. And not only is that not a Biblical view of missions (the Great Commission doesn't say "pay missionaries to go into the world"--it says "YOU go"), those churches are missing out on a front row seat for the great, amazing, unbelievable things God is doing all over the world.

So here is my challenge to you and to your church: pick a place. There is no shortage of places in the world where they need to hear the gospel. Pick one. And then commit to it. Commit to believers already there, to missions personnel on the ground, to yourselves that you will do whatever it takes to see God's word spread in that place. If you can't personally go, help fund someone from your church. Send ministry materials to the people already on the ground. (You can't imagine how much that means.) Assign times to pray weekly for that place and those people. And go. Go, go, go, go. Not once. Not twice. Go a lot. Have a team there several times a year. And watch what happens. Because when God says to look at the nations and wonder at what He is doing...you will not be watching from a far off place. You'll be there. You might be cold or wet or hot or hungry...but you'll be where God is at work. And I promise you this--you'll never be the same. Never.

I'd better run. Today is a busy day for us--we have so much to get done before we leave for the States July 26th. Packing, paperwork, trips...so much to check off our to-do list. But we'll get it done. We might be a little crazy getting it done, but we'll finish everything. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are listening to the voice of God calling you to love someplace that is not your home, and that you are NOT out of ranch dressing mix, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Saying yes

2010-05-06T22:57:00.000-07:00

I especially like Zachary and Sarah Beth's expressions here. I think they tell a tale.

The "normal" picture of the Plzen Six.

This was taken October, 2008. It gives you a little idea of how much our kids have changed over their time on the field. John and Laini were probably building a fort when this was taken.

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. I Corinthians 10:31

Well, for those of you who read this regularly, I want you to know that we survived Sarah Beth's leaving pretty well. Sunday was awful, because the dread of her leaving was so terrible. But when I woke Monday morning, I had a sense of peace and calm. She was ready. And interestingly, so were we. Of course, I've talked to her every day, and I'm thoroughly enjoying how much she is enjoying herself. Who wouldn't want to listen to their kid have fun?! She is loving being home, enjoying family, enjoying American food, and getting excited about the future. And though we miss her, we are determined to enjoy our time here, too, to be all here for this moment. There is a fine line between anticipating the future and living in it instead of in the present. We are trying to walk the right side of that line.

Our time here continues to wind down. It's an odd sensation, really, to think about going home. My life is here. Thinking about my life being in Florida for a while is strange to me. Oh, I'm looking forward to it--I am a girl who needs to see my Momma and Daddy and sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins--but it's kind of unreal to me right now. And to be honest, I've been so wrapped up in what's next for us--in terms of our missionary life--that Florida has just been something I've been unable to comprehend. Our future looms on the horizon, but it's a pretty fuzzy picture at the moment. It comes a little more into focus every day, but I'm still not able to totally make it out. And if you know me, you know that is making me a little crazy. Uncertainty is not something I'm great at handling. I'm a checklist-loving, type-A gal. Not having a lock on what's next...well, it can make Kellye a cranky girl.

So why not just stay in Florida? There is life there, work there, family there. My sister asked me if it wouldn't be really hard to return to the field after living in the States. I replied that I thought it would, but I couldn't imagine not returning. I've thought about that conversation all week. Why come back? We've sacrificed. We've "done our time." We've sat through three years of church services we barely understood (and at first, didn't understand at all). We've learned another language, ministered to people, known some hardship. Why not stay in Florida? I like Florida. I like English. I like my job and my family and my church in Florida. I like who I am in Florida. So why not stay there?

Here's my only answer--we are compelled by a holy God to be here. And maybe when we knew Him less, we could have ignored that. Maybe we could have said no to that compulsion. But after having a front row seat for the amazing works of our amazing God for three years...how could we ignore Him now? Our life the last three years has not always been comfortable, has not always been easy...but in every challenge, in every moment, He has been there. On dark Moscow nights, when my soul cried out to Him, He was there. When my precious friend died unexpectedly, He was there. When I realized how sick John was in January, He was there. When we moved to Plzen, He was there. When Sarah Beth's heart was broken, He was there. And yes, when we watched her walk through passport control with a little grin and a wave on Monday, He was there, too. In the triumphs, in the failures, through laughter and tears...He was there. He promised He would never leave me nor forsake me, and He has been faithful to that promise. He has never left. Never. And all He asks in return is my obedience. That's a pretty simple request from the God of the Universe. I cannot imagine saying no. So even though the picture of our future is still kind of fuzzy, I am content that the God who has been there will continue to be there, that He will continue to be faithful, that He will continue to carve out for us a life that is far beyond what I could even dream for myself and my family.

Well, I should run. John is roaming around aimlessly while I write this--never a good thing. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that whatever God asks you to do today, you will simply say 'yes,' and that the sun is starting to shine in your part of the world, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

God's Masterpiece

2010-04-29T23:11:00.000-07:00

Sarah Beth with Aunt Dalese and Aunt Melinda. Precious, priceless women who have invested in her life all year. So thankful for these ladies!

Uncle Larry and Aunt Melissa with SB. You know those few people in your life who love your kid, not just because they've seen her at her best, but because they also know her at her worst and love her anyway? These are those people.

Sarah Beth with her Reegan. This is a sweet relationship. Reegan told her last night, "I love your celebration." Precious girl.

For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them. Ephesians 2:10

Okay, I don't think it's a good sign that I have already cried just putting captions on the pictures. I'm going to confess to you--I'm a big, weepy mess. I managed to get through my part of graduation without crying until the end, but then I sat in the back and cried through the rest of it. It was, by far, the sweetest celebration I have ever been a part of, and there aren't enough thank you notes in the world to thank the people who made it possible. I think both Eva and Sarah Beth had a wonderful, special night. After dinner, when we were all mulling around and talking on the street, I noticed that both girls had such a sweet expression, so clearly grateful for all that people had said and done. It was a great night, one I certainly won't forget.

As you can imagine, with Sarah Beth graduating last night and leaving on Monday for Florida (can you hear my parents cheering in the background?), I have been thinking a lot about the life she has led here, about raising kids--especially about raising kids on the mission field. I have long worried that the sacrifices our kids have made to have this life are too much to ask of them. I think that's normal. Sarah Beth doesn't get to go to prom. Her senior trip is with me in December or early January (New York City!!). Three of her four years of high school have been home school, not something she would have chosen. Some days, when I am allowing doubts to make their way in, those things seem so important to me, so monumentally important that I wonder if it's all been worth it.

But then, I look at the person Sarah Beth has become, and I don't wonder anymore. When we first knew God was asking us to move overseas, Sarah Beth was 13. When she found out what we were contemplating (she overheard a conversation), she locked herself in the bathroom and screamed for a while. Okay, not a while. Hours. She was pretty upset. But gradually, and mostly because we just left her alone about it, she started to be okay with it. Not great, by any stretch. But okay. She had the power, because of her age, to stop us from being hired by the IMB. (She had a card with a phone number on it, and she could call at any time and stop the process.) She never did. Instead, she chose to fully embrace her new life--finishing 9th grade early and spending a couple of months in Prague, living with Jerry and Tina Barnwell--and off we went to Moscow. All along the way, in good times and in bad, she has NEVER made us feel guilty for the sacrifices she has made. And she has turned from that self-absorbed 13-year-old into an 18-year-old woman of whom I am so proud. Some things I'm particularly proud of:

Her relationships with her missionary aunts and uncles. I looked around that room and saw so many people who have invested so much in her, people who have laughed with her and loved her so much, who have listened to her, comforted her, worried about her, poured themselves into her. As she was opening gifts, such sweet things from all over Europe, I couldn't help thinking about two things that she considers precious because someone special gave them to her--her "Old Russian" ring that her Aunt Teri gave her for her 16th birthday, and her beating stick that Uncle Larry carved for her at FPO (so she could beat the boys off!)...she has had that stick in her room the entire time she's lived in Europe. Know why? Because Uncle Larry loves her, and she knows it. Larry and Melissa gave her cake decorating lessons for graduation, and she was so thrilled, not just because she really wanted cake decorating lessons, but because to be known so well by someone is so encouraging. "Do they know me, or what?" she said as she talked about how excited she was. Yes, SB, they definitely know you.
Her toughness. I'm going to be honest--if you're at church and SB elbows you out of the way to get a seat in a particular pew...it's because she's practiced on the Moscow Metro. :) Of course, that's not the kind of toughness I mean. (She will elbow you, though. You'd better just let her have the seat!) Life in Europe has not always been easy. My kids literally did walk a mile in the snow uphill both ways in Moscow. My Florida girl has learned to endure the ice, snow, and cold, which she hates. More importantly, she has learned about weathering the parts of life that are not so much fun. The last year has been pretty hard...she broke out in hives the day we moved to Prague and had them every day in some form until we moved to Plzen. She has been dreadfully lonely at times. She has had some heartbreaking things happen. But she's gotten through it, and she's done so with some grace. I know that there will be tough times ahead, certainly, but I think she knows that she and God can get through anything.
Her sense of "the least of these." If you are an underdog, Sarah Beth is your biggest fan. If you are a drunk on the metro, passed out from last night's binge, Sarah Beth is so sad for you. If you are an orphan in some African village, Sarah Beth loves you and wants to bake you cookies. Sarah Beth's sense of Christianity is not about using particular words or listening to particular music or wearing particular t-shirts. It's about reaching out to those who Jesus would reach out to, offering them a hand to help them up, loving the unlovable. Sarah Beth cannot decide between majoring in social work and political science and international relations. Know why? Because Sarah Beth knows her faith can be a tool not just to make some church a better place, but to make the world a better place.

There is so much more I could write about her. She is funny and kind, she loves animals, she would give you her Harry Potter books if you needed them, she loves her grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins, she is cute, Russian Baptist boys adore her (I had to put that one in...it's a running joke), she loves old movies, she dances in her room with the door locked to relieve tension, and she knows just about every show tune that's ever been written and freely sings them all over the house. And here's the one that kills me--she is ready. She's ready to be in the States without us. She is ready to fly from my little nest that I've constructed. And so, I guess, I am ready, too. I can assure you that doesn't mean the next few days won't be tear-filled, because I've already sobbed my way through writing this. But I know that it's time. And frankly, she's so excited and happy that it's hard not to be excited and happy for her...even if I'm smiling through some tears.

Well, I'm headed off to make some breakfast and start cleaning this house. Today is an easy day for us, not really much on the schedule. Tomorrow, Larry and the kids will come over for a farewell party (Melissa is at a retreat with some ladies from her church), and Sunday will be her last Russian church service, at least for a while. On Monday, we'll get up early and take her to the airport, where the folks who have known her the longest--the Barnwells, who she loves and adores so much--will meet us and help us say goodbye. Then it will be on to the next three months before we come back to Florida, too. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are encouraged that, just like He has done and is continuing to do in Sarah Beth's life, God is daily making those you love into His masterpiece, and that your whole house smells good from your daughter's graduation flowers, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Running a three-legged race all by myself

2010-04-14T23:09:00.000-07:00

I love this picture. Hannah and her Daddy on Easter Sunday, 2010.

"So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." Matthew 6:34

One of my all-time favorite books is Daphne duMaurier's Rebecca. Sarah Beth loves it, too, and we both loved the creepy (and kind of cheesy) black and white movie. Every once in a while, I'll look at her and say, "I dreamt last night of Manderlay," and do my weird, creepy, villainess-in-the-forties-movies look. It cracks her up. And maybe worries her a little. But definitely cracks her up. This morning, though, I would have to say to her, "I dreamt last night night of a classroom," because I spent the entire night dreaming about teaching. And I woke up feeling pretty good, to be honest. Little in life is more relaxing or refreshing to me than a good day teaching. So it was good that I was dreaming of a classroom, but it was also bad. Because here is the deal: I am running a three-legged race all by myself. I have one foot here in Plzen, one foot in Moscow, and another foot in the States. And since physical grace is not exactly my forte, this is a disaster waiting to happen.

We have around 100 days left in our term. On July 26th, we will head back to the States. (Two days before our 20th anniversary...what a present!) I want you to think well of me, but I have to be honest--it's hard to concentrate on the here and now when I'm that close to seeing my Momma and Daddy and Aunt and Uncle and sisters and friends...you get the idea. Now don't get me wrong--God offers plenty of reminders that I am here and I need to be all here...just yesterday, I saw a Czech friend at the music school where Hannah takes guitar, and I stopped and chatted with her for a while...reminding me that there are still things to do here, relationships to develop, etc. And we're trying to focus, we really are. We are diving in at the Russian-speaking church, trying to help Larry and Melissa when we can...but my mind keeps slipping away to the States. Last night, it wasn't a Czech or Russian classroom I was dreaming of--it was my old classroom in Florida. I have dreamed about church, about the beach, about swimming in my Aunt's pool, about eating my Uncle's gumbo...you name it, and if it is part of my old life, I have been dreaming about it. So one leg is here, one leg is in the States...and that's a pretty big divide to straddle.

But the other leg is in Moscow. Let's be clear--life in Moscow was much, much harder than life in Plzen. Winter from October to May, the lack of sunlight, long treks to school and the store in the freezing cold, a language which was daunting, never meeting anyone who spoke a word of English (or who would speak it), a culture which was incomprehensible to us at first...life in Moscow was not easy. And that doesn't even take into account the administrative/logistical/legal nightmare of visas and visa trips. Plzen is full of sunshine (though not today), close friends, friendly neighbors, and a back yard! So why do I constantly long for Moscow, for Russia? No idea, except that God's call on our hearts is specifically for a people and a place. Not that we don't have a passion for all people to know Christ, because we do. But Russia is home. Talk to us for any length of time, and you'll know that Russia is home. We're working hard to be open to all possibilities in front of us, we really are. But the more I pray for clarity, for vision, for what God wants...the more my heart longs for Russia.

So what's the result of this three-legged race? To be honest, it's put me in kind of a funk. (Credit goes to Marc, because funk is definitely his word.) Torn between wanting to finish well and just wanting to finish, I find myself a little blue. Not anything terrible. No need to call Member Care, for those of you in the company. Just a little blue. But blue or not, there is work to be done. And so today, I am concentrating on today. Not tomorrow or the next day, but today. And I have a feeling that the next 100 days are pretty much going to be that way--one day at a time.

Well, I promised my family banana muffins this morning, so I'd better get to it. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are only running with two legs this morning, and that there are banana muffins in your future, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

The value of great teachers

2010-03-27T21:55:00.000-07:00

Sweet sisters. Time is flying...they were little girls yesterday.

John John is a genuinely sweet kid. I like him a lot.

I've been up since 4 this morning, and since I lost an hour of sleep, anyway, I'm pretty tired. (We spring forward two weeks later than the U.S. Don't ask--I don't know why.) Marc left early for the airport--he's flying to Moscow and St. Petersburg for a week--and once I'm up, I'm up. I'm hoping to get a nap later.

I've been thinking about teaching and teachers this week. My friend here had an interesting experience, where suddenly she was getting all these excited emails about her teaching in Czech schools. It came as a surprise to her, but when I thought about it, I wasn't really surprised that all these people would be excited about her coming to teach English in their schools. Of course, it's wonderful to have a native speaker teaching a language, and I've heard many complaints over the last year from folks who don't like that their kids' English teacher doesn't really know all that much English. And I've watched her teach, and she's a good teacher. She knows what she's doing. But I think what makes her exciting to people is the obvious love and care she shows to her students. You cannot replace that as a teaching tool. People are drawn to someone who genuinely cares about them.

I've also been thinking about teaching and teachers because the Florida legislature has passed a piece of legislation that ties teacher pay to student performance on standardized testing. Now, I'm not a particularly political person...well, that's not really true...I'm not a publicly political person. I don't often make political statements or support a particular candidate publicly, mostly because I got into the habit of keeping that stuff to myself when I taught in public schools, but also because I can't imagine that anybody would care what I think about politics. But I'm going to say it aloud: This is a VERY BAD piece of legislation. VERY BAD. AWFUL. TERRIBLE. And here's why: if 50% of their pay is tied to how students do on standardized tests, who in their right mind is going to want to teach those kids who don't do well on tests? Who is going to teach the kids who need the best teachers? Those students who sit on the lowest quartile, who are hard to improve because they are 16 and don't speak a word of English...who will teach them? And since when did the value of a teacher rest on the results of a standardized test?

I have had the great joy of teaching for many, many years. I have taught every kind of kid there is, from the highly gifted to the highly remedial. From the kid who is headed to the Ivy League to the kid who can't spell Ivy League. In every kid I've taught, even the ones who were "bad" in terms of behavior and grades, there was a redeeming something. There is something to love in every child, whether they can perform on a standardized test or not. And here's the really important thing: If I had never taught anyone but those who would make me look good on a test, I would have missed out on some of the best moments of my teaching career. Because you know what? Those kids who succeed on every standardized test? They would have succeeded without me. With some exceptions, those kids have lots of encouragement and lots of folks in their corner. But those kids who don't normally succeed on a test? They could use a good coach, someone who thinks they can do something worthwhile, contribute to society, be good citizens, whether or not they can do algebra or figure out the tone of a piece of writing.

My own children have benefited so much from great teachers, people who saw something in them that was worth loving. Sarah Beth would not have made it through 3rd grade without Kim Miskowski as her teacher. With a terribly sick mother and a baby brother she didn't know if she'd ever see, Sarah Beth's 3rd grade shoulders bore too much weight. But Kim was there and helped her through every step of the way. She found a way to show her love for a frightened little girl, and in doing that, found a way to help her do well in school. Hannah found so much love and comfort in Sarah Clark, her music and science teacher last year, who helped her through the transition of being in Moscow. Without Sarah's influence, without her love and caring, I'm not sure Hannah would have survived what was a very rough year for her. And there are no words for how much Natalie Richardson, John's second grade teacher, did for him. Natalie managed to see good in John even when he wasn't at his best. If Natalie said, "He's such a good kid," to me once, she said it a thousand times. Encouragement for him and for his Mom...that takes someone special. And what is the thread that ties together these three examples? None of them had anything to do with how my kids did on tests. Instead, my kids benefited from the intangibles that make a great teacher--that extra something that is special about the people who love our children. You can't measure that on a test, and you can't really quantify its importance.

My former boss once told me that it's all about the teacher standing in the classroom. Administrators can make the way as best they can given their resources, and counselors can help guide students, but at the end of the day, it's all about the teacher. And in my experience, it's the intangibles that make great teachers great. It's the love, the caring, the enthusiasm, the interest in students...those are the things that make us all look back fondly at those teachers we point to as the ones who made a difference to us. The Miskowskis and Clarks and Richardsons of the teaching world are worth their weight in gold. If we could quantify what they bring to the classroom, then I would believe in merit pay. But until then, to think that we can put into a formula some test scores and come up with what a teacher is worth...that's pretty ridiculous.

Well, I suppose I should get up and moving. I need to do spring cleaning while Marc is gone, but I think that can wait until another day. Today I am looking forward to time with my kiddos and Bible study with friends. Wherever you are in the world, I challenge you to take time today to thank a teacher who was instrumental in your life (and call your representative and tell him/her you are NOT happy with this new legislation if you live in Florida), and I hope your husband is bringing you Russian chocolate in a week, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Longing for my old self...just a little

2010-03-25T00:15:00.000-07:00

Sunflowers are my favorite. These were in Berchtesgaden, Germany.

"I am the Alpha and Omega," says the Lord God, "who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty." Revelation 1:8

This won't be long. I have only a few minutes of quiet--John is occupied for a little bit, but that never lasts for long, and I have to have quiet in order to write. I don't know if you'll remember or not, but I started reading through the Bible last April, and I'm just about to the end. I've kind of dreaded Revelation, because I've read it before and been kind of lost, but today's reading wasn't too confusing. Of course, I realize today's reading was only the first chapter!

So here is my confession for the day--I am dreading the next four days, not because of what is happening here, but because of what is happening at home. You see, the North Florida Passion Play begins tonight at our home church in Middleburg, Florida, and it is the first time they've done it without our family. They don't need us to do it, certainly, and I've always known that. But we enjoyed doing it so much as a family that it's hard to be here and know that it's going on there. Does that make sense? It was something our whole family participated in--Marc and Sarah Beth worked on the technical end (and Sarah Beth performed when she was younger), Hannah was one of the children in the opening, and I sang in the choir. Okay, John sat in child care quite a bit (he saw a performance once), because he was little when we left. But the rest of us were heavily, heavily involved. And even more than I miss the involvement, I miss being the person I was when we were involved.

It will come as a shock to those who only know me as a missionary, but in my former life, I sang publicly quite a bit. And though from time to time I struggled with why I loved it so much, I generally just love singing. Love it. Love singing about Jesus even more than just singing. And once I gave myself a break about never feeling like I was good enough (I hit that note a little wrong, I didn't sing the right words there, etc.), it was so much fun to get up and feel like I could be used by God to contribute to a worship service or a banquet or a ladies' retreat...you get the idea. So you can imagine that it's been kind of sad for me that in the last three years, I've only sung once in public--at a school event in Moscow. And I could give you a list of things God has taught me by virtually taping my mouth shut, but that's not really what this post is about.

So what is this post about? I'm glad you asked. :) It's about being thankful for the life we led before we left, just like I'm thankful for the life we've led since we came to Europe. It's about being thankful for our church, which has provided so many amazing memories for us. It's about it being okay to be homesick when something cool is going on, and not thinking that makes me a bad missionary. If we could afford the ticket, I promise you we would have taken vacation and gone home for this--it was that big a part of our lives. And though I hope to be asleep when they start the first performance tonight (it'll be around 1 a.m. here), I will say one last prayer before I hit my pillow, not just that the performance will go smoothly, but that the thousands of people who will attend over the next four days will be drawn closer to the One who loved them enough to send His Son to die for them.

Well, it's time to get started on my day. John has been quiet for just about as long as his nine-year-old self can handle it. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are thankful for the amazing experiences God has given you in the past, and that the smoke from Jesus' empty tomb doesn't filter into the kitchen and set off the fire alarms during your Passion Play performance tonight. (Smile. That was just for Marc.) Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Jesus loves you

2010-03-21T22:43:00.000-07:00

I know this isn't the best quality, but I love the look on Hannah's face. When she and Larissa are together, there is a lot of laughter.

Our little leprechaun on her birthday. If you're wondering, that is both a leprechaun hat and a tiara on her head. We didn't name her "beautiful princess" for nothing.

The birthday girl and her requested breakfast--Momma's cinnamon rolls. You get what you want on your birthday!

In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. I John 4:10-11

Spring seems to have finally sprung here in Plzen, Czech Republic, and I could not be happier about that. Those of you in Texas who still have snow on the ground--I feel your pain. Ours is finally gone, and though I really do like snow, I'm ready for a new season to arrive. I was here last spring, and so I know that there is no more beautiful place on earth in the spring than the Czech Republic. I am looking forward to flowers and colors and blue skies for a while.

I've been thinking lately about Facebook, about status updates and what they mean and what they tell us about people. I have friends from all walks of life, and so I really have an interesting read when I get up each morning. Some are very political, some are very deep and meaningful, some are very spiritual, and mine...I basically tell you what we had for dinner. I am not working toward deep and meaningful on the old Facebook status--but I have been told that it's fun for our friends on the other side of the world to know a little about our lives here. It's also nice for my parents and aunt and sisters...they can keep up with what's happening with us, with the kids, etc. And, to be honest, I enjoy reading about what's going on in everyone else's life, offering a joke when I can (because I AM funny, Marc and Sarah Beth) or some encouragement when it's needed. I'm not saying that Facebook is my main ministry or anything, but I think it can be a tool to help people.

So what I've been thinking about is what would my status be if I had to boil it down to the most basic thing I want you to know? What if Facebook WERE my only ministry? What would I say on my status? Here's what I've come up with (and it's not original in any sense): Jesus loves you. It's the most important thing you can know, not about me, but about yourself. He loves you. The Lord of everything, the Creator, the Son of God...He loves you. Crazy about you. Died for you. Rose again for you. And I'm not saying for mankind in general. I'm saying for YOU.

When we moved to Moscow, one of the things that made me uncomfortable was beggars. These aren't (generally) like homeless people in America, who often seemed to be middle aged or younger. Most of the beggars in Moscow are older people, generally women. And they sit on their knees and put their noses as close to the ground as possible. And it kills me. It still bothers me when I see it. They are someone's babushka (grandmother in Russian). I truly adore old folks. So to see them begging...it hurts me. So we often gave our change. (It's a thin line to walk...how to approach this subject.) But I didn't want to just give them ten rubles, walk away, and feel good about myself. I wanted to say something meaningful to them in those few seconds. So one of the first things I learned to say in Russian--Jesus loves you. And when we would give them our small change, I would whisper it to them. Jesus loves you. Jesus loves you. Jesus loves you.

Because I have worked in public schools for most of my career, I have many, many friends who are not believers. They would consider themselves Christian in the sense that they are not Jewish or Muslim, but not in the sense of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. If you are one of those people, here's what I want you to know. Jesus loves you. No matter what you've done, haven't done, no matter how "bad" you've been or haven't been. He doesn't care about you cleaning up to come to Him. He doesn't care if you've been "good," either. He doesn't care if you're a Democrat or a Republican. (Don't get me started on the Facebookers who put "I vote how Jesus would vote" on their information....drives me NUTS.) He doesn't care if you come to a Baptist church or a Methodist church or an Episcopal church. He loves you, and He died for you, and He rose again for you, and He is desperate to have a relationship with you. And all the other stuff that you see in the news--Christians fighting amongst themselves about stupid things that don't matter--ignore it. That is NOT Jesus. That's us. And we are often stupid.

And if you are a believer, how about we make a deal. How about we stop fighting. How about we stop distracting and detracting from the good news of Jesus Christ. How about we all realize along with Paul that the world is full of sinners, of whom I am the worst and just get over ourselves, our pet projects, our pet issues. How about we cut each other a break. What if we gave that a try for a while?

Well, I'm off to Prague for the day, so I'd better run. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know that Jesus loves you so much, and that your husband is fixing supper tonight, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

My Lifetime Movie

2010-03-13T23:44:00.000-08:00

John's amazing cake--courtesy of Sarah Beth and her decorating skills.

John's closest friend, Laini. They accepted Christ on the same day, were baptized together, and they really love one another so much. There is something special about these two.

Hannah and Sarah Beth made this face, too--it's a Nerf target for him to shoot instead of shooting them. All three were pretty excited about it!

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7

This is the first morning in several that I've gotten up and not immediately spiked a fever, so I am thoroughly enjoying my second cup of coffee and some peace and quiet and time to think. The flu has reared its ugly head in the Hooks household this week, and it has not been pretty. Marc and John have remained pretty much unaffected, but the Hooks girls have been just this side of disgusting. I'm hoping that when they get up, the flu will also have run its course with them, and we can all enjoy not feeling so terrible.

When I am sick, my mind does weird things. And this week, one of the things I've been thinking about is Lifetime movies. Now, let me say up front--I love a good Lifetime movie. They're pretty harmless, they don't have bad language, they aren't usually too graphic for me to watch, and they almost always have some woman who overcomes some kind of terrible odds. I like a good woman-overcoming-odds movie. I really do. But the titles. The titles are so goofy sometimes. It's usually some statement, a colon, and then the name of the woman whose story is being told. Something like: "Bathtime for Baby: The Betty Richardson Story." So, in my fever-induced daze, I started thinking about what my Lifetime movie would be titled. And I kept coming back again and again to something Marc's grandmother said to him once on the phone. She was a little confused in her latter years, and once, when he was in high school, he picked up the phone to find his Nana on the other line. "I lost me. But I found myself again." So I've decided to borrow from Nana and make that my Lifetime movie title--"I Lost Me, but I Found Myself Again: The Kellye Hooks Story." What do you think?

We should find out this week the exact date we will leave Europe and head home for our Stateside. It involves our candidate consultant, being on the field for so many days, etc. It's nothing I want to get into here, because it's kind of complicated (read that as "I don't totally understand it myself"), but no matter what date they come back with, we are somewhere around 125 days away from going home. And to be completely honest, I'm not sure how to feel about that. Don't get me wrong--I can't wait to see my Momma and Daddy, my sisters and brothers-in-law and nieces and nephews, aunts, uncles, friends. And I need a break. I have not seen my home country for nearly three years, and I am ready to touch some American soil. But in many ways, I feel like I have just gotten my feet steady here, just gotten my sea legs, so to speak. To leave, transition back to my old life for a time, then come back to the field...it seems like a lot to me right now. Because in so many ways, I am not the person I was when I left the U.S. on October 3rd, 2007.

For the entire first year on the field, I felt so lost. Imagine going from my former life--where I had enjoyed so much professional success, loved my job, loved my church, loved living close to family--to a life where I didn't speak the language, didn't understand the culture, didn't understand the weather, and most of all, didn't understand what I was supposed to do. I was so used to being the go-to gal in my former life...and suddenly, no one really wanted my help or my opinion about anything (for good reason--I wasn't in any position to help anyone). I had to rely on other people to help me through illness (imagine trying to find medicine for your child in a language you don't read, yet), through grocery shopping (I had a bag of potatoes thrown at me once because I didn't do something right), through plugging stuff in (don't even ask how many things I blew up because I couldn't get the right adapter on anything)...I was just basically useless, and I didn't like it AT ALL. Ask my family. Ask my sister, Cathy, who talked to me on Christmas Eve as I sobbed because our church didn't acknowledge American Christmas Eve (I snuck down the hall to the Korean Church, where they were singing carols, stood outside, and cried). Or ask Kay how many times I said I just hated everything about my life. Or my poor parents...who probably spent the entire first year on their knees for me. I was miserable, my kids were miserable, and poor Marc...poor Marc loved Russia so much that he wasn't miserable, and don't think I didn't make him pay for that!

So what happened? How did I find myself again? I stopped caring about what other people thought about me. I started caring about listening to whatever advice I could find. I was open and honest about how miserable I was to those who could help me, but I stopped complaining 24/7 to my family at home. I stopped relying on my emotions, which lied to me again and again and again. I made friends and actually asked for help. And for a while, I just faked it. I stood at my kitchen window and sang, "It is Well with My Soul" to the 50,000 people who lived in my block, even though I didn't feel like anything was well with my soul, because I came to understand that no matter what I felt, no matter what my emotions were telling me, it would be well with my soul again. Seasons pass, times change, people leave the field, people come to the field...and one thing alone remains the same--the God of Everything is still there, still loves me, still holds me securely, and still has a plan for my life. It didn't always feel good. It wasn't always fun. But after a time, I found myself again. It was a different me, a me changed forever by my experience up close and personal with the God of the Universe, but it was me, nonetheless.

So I'm praying as we get ready to return to the States for a time that I will take those lessons with me, that the old Kellye is forever gone, that the new Kellye is going to be making the trip home. And that if they ever do make "I Lost Me, but I Found Myself Again: The Kellye Hooks Story," Reese Witherspoon will play me. :) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that your Lifetime movie is being written by the One who loves you most, and that you are looking forward to a day without a fever, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Great is His Faithfulness

2010-02-24T23:04:00.000-08:00

John and Laini's latest fort. It was, in reality, pretty impressive. It had a sleeping room, a game room, and a room for Playmobil. C'mon--that's not bad for an 8 and 7 year old.

I just thought this was cute. Hannah-Banana is definitely not the little girl she was when we left the States.

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

Wow! It's been nearly two months since you heard from me--definitely the longest since we left the States in 2007. Most of you know that it has been an eventful time for us--John became very ill, and we had to leave the apartment where we were living in Prague. We spent two weeks being homeless, then found a new home in Plzen, near the Czech/German border. We now live in a sweet neighborhood, with kind, wonderful neighbors, not to mention close friends who are now also close by. Much of the last month has been taken up with me moving us into our home here while Marc has been in Vancouver at the Olympics. He also spent a week in Florida, speaking to different groups about the work in this part of the world (and being completely spoiled by my parents). He has had an amazing, if exhausting, month, and he comes home to us tomorrow. We are a pretty excited group of people! To make it even better, my friend, Melissa, who has been in the hospital seemingly forever with an ear infection that turned pretty bizarre, is also coming home tomorrow. I feel like Friday just might be a pretty amazing day.

Sometimes, I don't write anything here because nothing interesting is going on in my life. Sometimes, interesting stuff is happening, but I just don't have time to sit down and get this done. Sometimes--and this is one of those times--I don't write because I find myself in the midst of something overwhelming, and I don't know how to put it into words that would even make sense to someone else. My friend, Frances, jokes that we will some day be Member Care--the counseling wing of the IMB--because every weird thing that could happen has happened to us on the field. John's illness--caused by something in the water that got into his system through cracked and bleeding skin on his hands--is just the latest in a really strange set of circumstances that has been our path for the last three years. However, I have to say that though we have clearly had some bizarre stuff happen, I think we've had an amazing experience on the field, one I will always be thankful for--if for no other reason than that God has proven Himself so faithful in every way through every circumstance we have faced. Here are just a few examples:

The entire team we served with when we came to Moscow--a team full of people we dearly loved--resigned and returned to the States. Each person/family were following where God was leading them, and these were certainly not decisions they made lightly. But you can imagine, I think, that as they one-by-one left (starting, quite literally, with our first week there, when a journeyman left to get married), we started to feel like maybe we were a little toxic. As we continued, more close friends from outside of our team resigned or left Moscow, making us feel as though we had some kind of aura about us that made people feel instantly that God wanted them to leave. This wasn't true, and we certainly knew it, but it was difficult not to feel somehow responsible for the number of people close to us who were leaving. So what did we learn? Through this experience we learned to be grateful for the people God places in our lives, but not to be dependent on them for our security. No matter what God is telling other people to do, He has a special plan just for us, and it's our responsibility to follow it...no matter what it entails. The flip side of that is that other people have to follow God's plan for them, no matter how much we will miss them.

The loss of our beloved friend, Teri. Please don't get me wrong--her unexpected death is not my family's story, it's her family's story, and because I love them so much, I would never want anyone to think that I think her death was all about what it did to our family. But the family had become such an important part of our lives, and I had come to rely so much on Teri for love and support and encouragement that her sudden death was a shock to us, just like it was to all who knew her. In many ways, her death shaped our time on the field more than any other single event. She was that important to us. So what did I learn through this death of a precious friend? Treasure the time, make it count, love people...all things, by the way, that I learned from Teri's life. Together with my friend, Frances, no one has shaped who I am on the field more than Teri. And so, once again, I am thankful and grateful for my time with her, knowing that God has a purpose in her death just like He had a purpose in her life. I don't know what purpose her death served, and I likely will never know this side of Heaven, but I have seen the God of all comfort in action, and I know He knows. And for me, right now, that is enough.

Moving to Prague. Hmmm...ever done something that you knew, absolutely, 100% was God's will and then been kind of unhappy? Not discontent (well, at least not most of the time), but unhappy. Some unhappiness was caused by illness, because we all felt sick in the apartment we lived in, with Sarah Beth suffering the longest (she literally broke out into hives the first night we were there and never got better) and John becoming really ill at the end of our time there. Ever been happy in ministry, in schooling, in work, in closeness to friends...but still had a vague sense of unease? That was us in Prague. And we felt guilty about it (still do, I suppose in some ways)--life in Prague was easier than in Moscow, better weather, a huge, beautiful place to live, a gorgeous city to explore, ministry to do with Russian-speakers--feeling as though we were ungrateful for all the good stuff in our lives. And the Czech people! Don't get me started on the kindness of Czechs. They are an amazingly hospitable people in my experience--so kind as I butcher their language on a daily basis, or break into Russian, a language they cannot love, since it's pretty much the language of oppression to them. And yet, they smile and listen, answering me in Czech, allowing me to answer them in Russian. So kind. Ever been there, where you should be ecstatic, should be thinking you were in paradise--and yet that's not at all how you felt? I don't have the answer to this one, friends. I have some ideas, but most of them are just forming about this sense of unease, and I'm not quite ready to share them. However, I can say, without a doubt, that God intends us to serve Him wherever He plants us, no matter whether we're happy or not. Daily, God puts people in front of us to serve, people who need to know His love. If you think that's not true, then you're not paying attention. I don't care who you are, I don't care where you are--if you're a believer, God is putting people in front of you who need to know about His love. And you know what? He doesn't care if you're happy. That is not an acceptable excuse for not loving people. Our lesson: Do what He has for us right now, no matter what. The whys will take care of themselves in time.

This is kind of a mixed bag, isn't it? My brain is so jumbled, I'm not even sure if you can see the connection between these three examples. But to me, as I think my way through the last three years on the field, what connects every circumstance, every weird thing is the unbending, inflexible nature of God's faithfulness to me and to us as a family. He has never wavered, though I have often wavered. He has never lost sight of who I am, though I have often felt completely lost. He has never stopped being merciful and gracious, though I have sometimes had a hard time being merciful and gracious, sometimes to others, more often to myself. He has never stopped loving me, though I have often been my own most-unrelenting critic. He has cut me a break seven times seventy times, though I have been unforgiving of the slightest flaw in myself. He is gracious and merciful and compassionate beyond measure...but it is His faithfulness to one as unfaithful as I that brings me to my knees. Great is His faithfulness...I will sing it with my dying breath.

Well, my children are moving around, wanting to be fed and start school so they can get done. It's a pretty morning here in Plzen, and the temperatures are starting to warm up. I can't wait to get outside and breathe in some fresh air! Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are grateful for the many ways God shows His faithfulness to you, and that you are only 31 hours away from seeing your beloved, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

A thank you note to Southern Baptists

2010-01-08T23:21:00.000-08:00

Prague's snowy rooftops make the city even more of a fairy tale. This is the view out of John's window this morning.

It has been snowing pretty steadily for a day now. I don't think you can tell from the picture, but it is still really snowing outside. This is the view from our living room window.

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

Happy New Year from snowy, beautiful Prague! The kids and I are snug in our apartment this morning, trying to stay warm, and Marc is in the Arctic Circle trying to do the same. John and I went to a homeschool activity yesterday morning, and we were both pretty startled by how cold we were. Lots of wind and snow. And we thought Central Europe would be warmer! Oh, well...it certainly is beautiful.

I've been thinking a lot lately about Southern Baptists. (I don't care if you are Southern Baptist, by the way. We just happen to work for a Southern Baptist entity.) Many of you are aware of the economic downturn at imb (our new branding has all lowercase letters and no article...it makes me nervous as an English teacher). The Cooperative Program (the method by which Southern Baptist churches cooperate for things like missions, seminary education, state conventions, etc.) saw a downturn, as churches gave less because they had less, and the Lottie Moon Christmas Offering (LMCO) came in about 40 million dollars below what we needed. It has been a hard time, and people on the field have certainly felt the economic crunch in many ways. (Kind of like the States, huh?) I've been thinking about Lottie Moon and her offering, about what makes Southern Baptists give to missions, and about being grateful and thankful to Southern Baptists for our life here on the field.

When I gave to LMCO as a child, I gave because my church gave. I grew up knowing about Lottie Moon through missions organizations like GAs and Mission Friends and Acteens, and my church gave to LMCO every Christmas. As I grew older and became an adult, sometimes I gave to LMCO because I hoped that God would leave me alone about missions. (Yes, that makes me smile.) But often I gave because it was what was expected. It wasn't until I became close friends with a former MK, until I knew her parents and came to deeply love them, that Lottie Moon really came alive for me. She wasn't just some long-ago missionary to China. She was Uncle Ed and Aunt Mary, working in Kenya and Belgium, loving their family, missing the States, adoring Oklahoma football. She was a real person. And because I identified with them, she became more important to me.

I thought about this New Year's Eve, when we had 52 people at our house for a party. (We have a cool roof-top terrace, a perfect place to watch fireworks.) All but two of those people are supported by LMCO. You know what we did? We watched football (of course--the Sooners were playing!), we played games, we ate too much food, we set off fireworks with our kids, we hugged our children and kissed our spouses at midnight...we did the same things you did. Your missionaries (and we ARE your missionaries, if you tithe every week in a Southern Baptist church) aren't the super-saved. We're normal people. Ordinary. We love our kids, we worry about their allergies, our spouses travel too much, our houses aren't always clean...just like you. The difference is that God has called us for such a time as this to a land that is not our own, and we said, "Yes."

Some of the early news about LMCO is promising. Our home church gave more than ever before. Another church in our area of Florida collected $30,000 on Christmas Eve. I have heard others say that they are also hearing good things about the offering. I don't know how it will turn out any better than anyone else, but I do know that Southern Baptists are Southern Baptist because they believe in missions, in the Great Commission, in going to the ends of the earth. And so, as I sit here in my comfortable chair, watching it snow and drinking my second cup of coffee, I want to say, "Thank you." Thank you for contributing what you could. Thank you for believing in my call from God. Thank you for sacrificing and giving so that my family could live in this beautiful but very lost city. When we pray over our meals, we often say, "Thank you for the food and for the Southern Baptists who paid for it." I don't know anyone who works for our company who isn't thankful for the ordinary person who sits in a pew somewhere and gives faithfully every week so we can do what we do. While we sacrificed to come here, you sacrifice so we can stay. You are never far from our minds, and we are grateful for your sacrifice. I just wanted you to know.

Well, my kids are still asleep at almost 9a.m. What will I do with the quiet? I might read a book. Or I might just sit here, sipping my coffee and watching the snow. Either sounds pretty good to me! Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are continuing to fulfill God's call on your life, and that you don't have to get out in the snow, either. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

It turns out encouragement comes in a flat-rate box from the US Postal Service...who knew?

2009-12-16T22:48:00.000-08:00

Hannah and I went to the salon and had our hair cut yesterday. Doesn't she look grown up?!?!

Boo Boo and I being silly after John John's Christmas party.

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God's own possession, so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light... I Peter 2:9

There are some pretty excited kids in our apartment this morning, because there is a pretty good amount of snow on the ground, and it is still coming down at a good pace. Okay, it's not just the kids who are excited...Marc and I are loving the snow, too. The only one who isn't excited is Sarah Beth, who hates the snow. Her first words to us yesterday, when she woke up to find it snowing, were, "Okay...who prayed for snow?" But the rest of us are loving it! The high today is 20, and the forecast is calling for snow the next four days. Sweet!

I was thinking this morning about an old friend of mine. During a very dark and difficult time in her life, when we had taken her children somewhere or done something for them, she wrote us a thank you note. In her note, she said something I'll never forget. She thanked us for our kindness, and she said that when we did something for her children, we did it for her. I thought I knew how she felt then, but it wasn't until we came to the mission field that I really understood what she was saying. We have recently been the recipient of just this sort of kindness, and now I truly understand that when you do something for my kids, you've done it for me.

It has been a truly difficult six months since we moved to Prague. While we have no doubt that we are exactly where God means us to be for this moment, it is not home. We live in someone else's apartment, with someone else's cats, and though we are grateful for the roof over our heads and the companionship of their pets, those things are theirs, not ours. For the first time since we came to the field, we have very little money, because we took a cut in our field parity to come to Prague, but our expenses rose (due to things like electricity, internet, etc.) drastically. We do not have plans for the next year or two nailed down, yet, which is disconcerting. And though I cannot believe I am going to say this...we miss Russia. In fact, we pretty desperately miss Russia. God has definitely used this time in Prague to make us know for certain that our hearts are fitted for Russia and for Russians. He has used our ministry to Russian speakers as a way to confirm that, and we are grateful for that ministry, but it does not make us long for Russia less. So...it has been a difficult six months here.

So imagine how we felt as Christmas quickly approached. Very little money, homesick for America, homesick for Moscow, lonely...you name it. We were feeling pretty down and blue. But then something amazing happened. My dad would call and say, "I just put money in your account from so-and-so. Just wanted you to know." Or, "A Sunday School class has adopted you guys for Christmas, and they need a list of things you'd like from home." Or my sister would call and say, "My Sunday School class has collected money for a gift. What would you like me to do with it?" Then, last Friday, seven boxes arrived from our home church. SEVEN! The nice young man who is our delivery person for the Czech postal service even clapped his hands as the kids danced around and shouted to each other. The boxes were full of presents and treats for Christmas. I had so much fun letting the kids put presents under the tree and enjoy their Christmas socks and Christmas cups. What a great time!

But it's not the boxes that made a difference in our feelings. It was being remembered. Imagine the fun of looking at the names on those gifts and recognizing people from home. How would you feel if you were far away from home, if you hadn't seen people you loved in a couple of years, and you knew that someone at home had gone to the store and bought something especially for you? Imagine the joy of imagining someone at Walmart thinking to themselves, "John Hooks would really love these cars." To be thought about, to be remembered, to know that you are prayed over...these are things that far surpass boxes and gifts. I have received several notes in the last two weeks--words of encouragement and love and support--and they have lifted my spirits in ways I don't even have words to describe.

Imagine the joy of watching my children be encouraged. We were able to throw a surprise Christmas party for John with money donated to us by Sunday School classes. I was able to surprise Hannah with a haircut at a salon yesterday with money donated by a Sunday School class. The fun of watching them look through those presents under the tree, shaking and listening and wondering...indescribable. And because folks did these things for my kids, they have done them for me.

Do boxes of gifts from home and notes of encouragement change any of our circumstances, make us miss Moscow any less, make it any easier to be here? Nope. But there is something about knowing that we are loved and missed, thought about and prayed over, something about a tangible reminder of these things, that makes it easier to deal with the discouragement, the loneliness, and the homesickness. It makes it easier to face the next eight months and finish well. It really does.

So here is my challenge to you. Find someone who serves somewhere to encourage today. Maybe your pastor or youth minister or worship minister is going through a tough time and could use a little love. Maybe you know of a military family who is experiencing separation this Christmas. Send them a note. Remind them that they are loved. Thank them for their service. Pray for them. Above all, pray for them. I promise you that, just like the boxes blessed the Czech man who delivered them, when you give and encourage and pray for someone, you will be blessed, too.

Well, it's time to make breakfast for my hungry crew. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are encouraged by those who love you and are praying for you, and that there is snow in your forecast, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Yellow cake and icing

2009-12-15T23:13:00.000-08:00

Yellow cake:
Cream together:
1 cup softened butter
2 1/2 cups sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 tsp vanilla
2 1/2 cups buttermilk

Sift together:
3 3/4 cups flour
2 1/4 tsp baking powder
2 1/2 tsp baking soda

Mix wet and dry ingredients and pour into greased caked pans (or cupcake holders). Bake at 175C until a toothpick in the center comes out clean. This was the best, moistest yellow cake recipe I've found.

Buttercream Icing (thank you to Stacy Dyck)
1/2 cup solid shortening (we used butter last night, and it was fine)
1/2 cup butter softened
1 tsp. vanilla
4 cups powdered sugar (again, we have used Russian and Czech before, and it's fine)
2 Tbsp milk

Cream butter and shortening. Add vanilla. Gradually add sugar, one cup at a time. When all is added, add milk and beat until light and fluffy. Add food coloring for desired color.

This icing recipe has worked great for us. Leslie, you might also ask Frances for her cooked frosting recipe. We've had great luck with that, too.

For the rest of you, who came looking for a blog post--I promise I'm working on it. But trust me, when you find a good recipe that works here, you have to share with your pals. Merry Christmas, everyone!

Kellye

Breadmaker Roll Recipe

2009-11-28T01:36:00.000-08:00

I've had several people ask for my roll recipe. Here it is:

Add to the breadmaker in this order:
1 cup water
2 beaten eggs
1/3 plus 2 TBSP oil (I've been using olive oil lately)
1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp. salt (In CZ, I add an extra 1/2 tsp., since our salt isn't very salty)
4 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp. yeast

Set for the dough cycle. When it's finished, roll it into whatever you want to make--I use this recipe for dinner rolls, cinnamon rolls, hot dog and hamburger buns--then let it rise for 30 minutes. Bake at 175 C for 10-12 minutes. That's it. Enjoy!

Thankful for His faithfulness

2009-11-25T20:27:00.000-08:00

Goofy, goofy children. John and Hannah in Karlstejn, Czech Republic.

Some of my favorite people on the train to Karlstejn, Czech Republic: John, Marc and Hannah.

I will sing of the lovingkindness of the LORD forever; to all generations I will make known Your faithfulness with my mouth. Psalm 89:1

Although it is 5:30 (the cats woke me up a couple of hours ago, and I got up at 4), I don't have tons of time this morning. Thanksgiving for our team is at our house, which means there are still many little things to get done before 2p.m., when we are expecting people. However, I wanted to take just a minute or two and tell you some of the things for which I am thankful. So here is a list, in no particular order:

Of course, my kids and husband. Yesterday was a truly awful day in a thousand ways (the shower broke and the washing machine flooded, just to mention two of them), but by last night, when we were on our way to a worship service with friends, they had me laughing out loud on the street. Funny and entertaining and loving and caring...these four people never cease to amaze me. Gifts from God, each one of them.
My amazing immediate family. I've written tons about my parents and sisters and their love and support and encouragement. Suffice to say that when God was handing out families, I really got the cream of the crop.
Amazing friends all over the world. I thought I knew what friendship was before I came on the field. After two plus years away from home, I can honestly say that I understand friendship, have experienced it, and am a better friend now than I have ever been in the past. I could not exist without my friends.
Our home church, First Baptist Church of Middleburg, Florida. Lately, it seems they have an endless supply of encouragement for us. We are honored to be their missionaries.
Southern Baptists...you pay my bills and make it possible for me to be here. Please give generously to the Lottie Moon Christmas Offering.
Our church here. I understand maybe 60% of every sermon, but I adore worshiping in Russian, and these sweet people have made us feel very, very welcome. They are proof that the family of Christ is, indeed, a family...in whatever language.
My preschoolers. You have never seen anyone backpedal as quickly as I did when I found out I would be teaching ESL to preschoolers. PRESCHOOLERS!!!?!?!?! You know what? I love it. Love it, love it, love it. Love cutting out the little stuff for them, love making play doh for them, love teaching them, little by little, about Jesus' love...love it. I never thought I would say this, but there is little in life that is better than when they run up to me and call me "uchitilnitsa" (Russian for teacher). Who knew I would be so crazy about little kids? Turns out...God knew.

Maybe you are looking at my list and thinking that I could not understand your situation, your hard times, your struggles. And maybe you're right. In many, many ways, my life has been a charmed one. Loving family, great husband, fabulous kids, a sense of purpose and mission, a career I have loved...blessings all mine. But I want you to know that the last five months, since we moved to Prague, have been some of the toughest of our time on the field. When we moved here, we took a cut in field parity, a significant cut. But our expenses (especially in terms of our utilities) quadrupled. Suddenly, we have found ourselves--like many of you--struggling financially to pay our bills and feed our kids. We have not known financial hardship since coming to the field--until now. But it isn't only a financial struggle to be here. We love Prague--it is absolutely one of the most beautiful places on earth, and the surrounding countryside is gorgeous. In comparison to Russians (very generally speaking, by the way), Czechs are friendlier and less likely to yell at us when we do something culturally wrong (like unzip our coats at the wrong time of year). We love our team, we love our church, some of our very closest friends live only an hour and a half away...from the outside, our life is as close to perfect as anyone has the right to expect. Yet we long for Moscow. (Not all of us--Sarah Beth longs for Texas!) We are homesick for snow and ice and the crowded, smelly Moscow metro...but we know we are supposed to be here for this moment in time. Why? I have some ideas, but none I'm ready to share with the universe at large. Suffice to say--God knows what He's doing. He knows us better than we know us. And He is showing us some things so clearly right now...things we could not have learned in Moscow, things we could only learn here. And so, despite the hardship and the longing for "home," I am thankful that God is not done teaching me stuff. I wish He could find an easy way to do it, but that is not evidently in the cards for me. Today I will enjoy this moment, with these people, in this place, but I will thank Him that He has created something within me that longs for another place, a place that only He could give me a heart for in His immense love for me.

Well, friends, there are sweet potatoes to mash up in the kitchen, so I need to run. (Yes...sweet potatoes...and I only paid maybe $6 for them! Unbelievable.) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are thankful today for the good and the bad in your life, the easy and the difficult, the beautiful and the ugly. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

When did cat hair become a metaphor for my life?

2009-11-17T22:42:00.000-08:00

Honestly, I don't know what to say about this, except that it's a typical day at the Hooks home. Sarah Beth looks pretty normal, but John is touching his nose with his tongue, and Hannah is...well, I don't know for sure, but I think she's trying to touch her nose with her tongue. Let's just say this...they aren't boring or dull.

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39

Okay, okay. I know it's been a while. Would it matter if I told you I've been really, really busy? Or that I've had so much going on that I just didn't have much to say? It wouldn't make a difference? Well, then I'll just have to apologize and try to do better. How's that? (That was for Mom.) Things here are fine. It's been a bit warmer in Prague, and that's nice. School is rolling along, and we have been able to get Sarah Beth mostly caught up with where she would be if she hadn't gone to the States. Marc is leaving this morning for an editing retreat, and the kids and I are getting the house ready for Thanksgiving. Pretty much just normal life.

We had a teen girls' Bible study over last night for dinner. Sarah Beth goes every Tuesday to study with this group of girls, and it was our turn to host last night. We had a truly wonderful time. I am so thankful for colleagues who are willing to give their time to invest in my child. So thankful. It was fun, and Sarah Beth cooked a great meal--vegetable lasagna, garlic bread and apple crisp--that left the whole house smelling like heaven. I spent the day (when I wasn't homeschooling) scrubbing different parts of the house to make sure it was just perfect for guests. And, of course, as I do every day, I spent some time working on the cat hair.

The cat hair is my nemesis. It is the arch-enemy of my life. (Actually, that would be Satan, but forgive the hyperbole for a moment. I'm making a point.) I'm not sure I've said this before, but we are staying in an apartment that is usually occupied by a family who is on stateside assignment this year. Since their stateside and our year in Prague were the same time, they asked if we would hold their apartment for them, which we are glad to do. They asked if we would keep their cats, which we were also glad to do. And they are precious cats. Precious. We love them very much. I talk Russian baby talk to them all day long, cuddle with them, they sleep with one of us every night...we really love the cats. So don't walk away from this thinking it's the cats who are the nemesis here. No. It's their hair. You see, the cats shed like no other cats on earth. I'm not kidding. Tumbleweeds of cat hair roll down the hall like something out of High Noon. No matter what I do, no matter how many times I vacuum, no matter how many lint brushes I use per day, there is always cat hair somewhere. And this, my friends, drives me insane. Insane, I tell you. Every single day, I vacuum all the floors and the furniture in the living room, and then I take a lint roller and clean the furniture and the rug in the living room. Every day. And still, by about noon, the tumbleweeds of cat hair are rolling down the hall. Do you hear what I'm saying? I, Kellye Hooks, type-A personality, controller of all things domestic...I am losing the battle with the cat hair. In fact, it's really not even a battle, because there is no chance that I am going to win. Ever.

So imagine for a moment my determination to have a cat hair-free evening last night. I vacuumed, and then I had Sarah Beth vacuum and lint roll everything in the living room. And it looked great. I'm telling you, I felt really good about the lack of cat hair last night. And then, as I was sitting in my favorite blue chair, one of the cats jumped into my lap. The girls were discussing something, and as I listened, I absentmindedly stroked the cat's fur. Then, in a moment that can only be called metaphorical, I looked down to say something to the cat, and as I looked at her, I noticed cat hair literally drifting through the air right before my eyes. My pants...covered with white fur. The arm of the chair...coated. And you know what? The girls continued to talk. The Bible study went right on in spite of the cat hair. No one turned around and gasped in horror. In fact, I'm pretty sure no one but me cared enough to notice. They also didn't notice that I'd scrubbed behind the toilet or underneath the kitchen table. You know why? Because they were focused on each other and relationship-building, and I was focused on...cat hair. Hmmmm....

Maybe you are always focused on that which is eternal, but I have to tell you that I am often focused on the goofiest, silliest things around me. I struggle with the cat fur as if I am going to win some kind of prize for best Mom if it is gone from the house. I focus on what I perceive to be flaws in my children but sometimes overlook the great qualities they possess. I sigh heavily because Marc leaves his laundry on the floor but forget that he treats me like a queen even when I am at my worst. I focus on the burden that life on the field can sometimes be but fail to praise Him for the great joy that it often is. I pray for this decision or that, for guidance and direction, but forget to praise Him for today, for my family, for the now that He has given me in spite of myself.

And so this morning, I am not getting out the vacuum. I'm going to wait until later in the afternoon. (Baby steps, people. I can't go cold turkey.) I'm going to enjoy an easy day with the kids, a day when all we have to do is school. We might even have a movie night tonight, complete with homemade pizza. Because all too soon, our family will send Sarah Beth off to start her own life, and these days and nights, full of fun and laughter, will be what she takes with her. And Hannah and John will follow her right out the door before I know what has happened. I am much more concerned about what they take with them when they leave than that they leave without cat hair clinging to them. So this morning, I am asking God for a more eternal view. A small glimpse of the big picture. And maybe just a little Divine help with the cat hair. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are looking at the eternals in life, and that the apple cinnamon candles you found on sale at Tesco are making your house smell good, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Always on time

2009-10-31T00:21:00.000-07:00

I like taking pictures of Marc with all his equipment. Does that make me weird? This is him on top of the mountain near Hitler's Eagle's Nest.

The church and part of the castle at Berchtesgaden, Germany. There is something really awe-inspiring about walking around centuries-old buildings and thinking about the events and people who strolled in the same places. I have always been a history buff, but after living in Europe for three years, I am definitely even more interested in history.

Though the fig tree should not blossom and there be no fruit on the vines, though the yield of the olive should fail and the fields produce no food, though the flock should be cut off from the fold and there be no cattle in the stalls, yet I will exult in the LORD, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. Habakkuk 3:17-18

It is a dingy, gray morning here in Prague, but I am not thinking about that today. I am enjoying my second cup of coffee, the quiet that envelops the apartment when everyone else is asleep, and the thought of my beloved Gators stomping all over the Georgia Bulldogs this afternoon. Florida-Georgia is always fun, though it does, in truth, make me homesick. They show all those shots of Jacksonville on tv every year, and I always want nothing more than just to be there. But this year, I'm not. This year, I'm in Prague, Czech Republic. Who knows where I'll be next year? Wherever I am, I can promise you that I will drop everything to cheer on my Gators, especially against Georgia. (In all fairness, I actually really appreciate Georgia's coach, Mark Richter, and his outspoken Christianity.)

It's been a rough week here. Do you ever feel like your life is spiraling into the blues, and you can see it, but you just can't stop it? That's the kind of week it's been here, not just for me, but I think for all of us. I have to be honest--we clearly felt that God was moving us to Prague from Moscow. Clearly. No doubt about it. But since we've been here, it seems like nothing will go right. Not ministry--that's going well. But in terms of our personal life, it has been a hard four months, with bad news seeming to come from every corner. Every time we turn around, something goes wrong. (Case in point--7 weeks to get our new internet installed, and several charges we didn't expect.) It started when we'd been here for a week and the desk fell on Marc's mouth, an issue that still isn't resolved and which still causes Marc a good amount of pain. Marc's trip to Russia the last two weeks was the hardest, most difficult trip he's ever taken. Illness, financial struggling, loneliness...it has not been easy to be here. Add to that a homesickness, both for the States and for Moscow, and weeks of nothing but gray skies, and it's a recipe for sadness. On top of that, we're still unclear as to what our next step should be, adding frustration and impatience to everything else. Not a good week.

But He is Lord. And He answers when I call, every single time. Has He made any of this go away? No. But to be honest, I haven't asked him to change anything...just to show me how He is at work. I don't need to see the big picture, but I need enough light to get to the next step. And I need enough of His grace and mercy and lovingkindness to keep walking on this path that He has designed for me. He is always faithful to give that to me. Sometimes, it is through my family. Nobody makes me laugh harder than my children and husband, my sisters and parents. Sometimes, it is through the kindness of people on the field. The school I have been subbing for offered to pay for Hannah to attend their retreat this weekend, something we simply could not afford. Often, it is friends on the field. A chance meeting at the park that turns into a long conversation, a call from my closest friends, pictures of a ladies night in Moscow where I was missed, even the smack talk of colleagues who, for unknown reasons, are Gator-haters...these all bring encouragement. And sometimes, as we face the uncertainty that surrounds us, it is people from home. Maybe it's a package with goodies we can't get here. Maybe it's a check slipped into my Daddy's hand at church to be deposited "for the kids." Maybe it's a Sunday School class asking what we'd like for Christmas. Whatever it is, it is always done at precisely the moment we most need it. Inevitably, when I am most discouraged, God provides encouragement through people who are willing to be used by Him. His goodness is amazing.

And so, this morning, I am not thinking about the gray outside. I am not thinking about the bad news of the economic downturn and what that means for us. I am not worrying about money or college choices or friends for my kids. I am simply basking in the glow of a God who loves me more than I can imagine, a God who is always right on time. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know how much He loves you, and I challenge you to trust Him no matter what your circumstances may be. And I also hope you are going to spend the day getting ready for gametime, when your team, the mighty Gators of the University of Florida, will completely stomp (and chomp) the Bulldogs of the University of Georgia. Go Gators!! Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

There goes my mother-of-the-year award

2009-10-20T23:03:00.000-07:00

My little man

The best way to deal with sin has never been to attempt reform but to adore the Savior. We win over our lower nature through adoration. While we worship the enthroned, inner Christ, we cannot be controlled by our negative preoccupation with sin. --Calvin Miller

I know! Two posts in one week after a month-long silence--weird! But something happened last night that I wanted to share. Nothing earth-shattering. Just a reminder of how God works in our lives.

Let me start by saying that I am overly tired. I am homeschooling my three kids, teaching a class at the local Christian school, teaching ESL to Russian-speaking preschoolers, and starting a Sunday School class at my church. On top of that, I am working through a Bible study with friends, trying to keep up with housework, cooking, and a husband who travels a lot, and when he's not traveling is perpetually on deadline. I am hoping to be done with the class at the local school in a couple of weeks, since that is not something I am committed to in terms of ministry here--I am just filling in for a teacher who hasn't come, yet. One of the things I am learning to do is say 'no' to things that are good, but not the best that God has for me. It's hard, though--I want to help. I want to make things better for others. But my family is definitely suffering as I try to do too much, and teaching the extra class is definitely the thing that has to go. Marc and Sarah Beth have also been gone for about 10 days, and they don't return until Sunday night, so that adds to the stress of my life at the moment. So--I'm tired.

By the time I got home last night with Hannah and John (we teach preschool ESL at our church on Tuesday afternoons), I was really worn out. When Marc is out of town on Tuesdays, I don't even attempt to cook after we get home, so I take the kids to McDonald's. And then, because we were there, and when you carry your groceries you are ALWAYS picking things up, we went by Tesco, which is as close to a Wal-mart as we're going to find here. Add 15 minutes standing up on the crowded tram, and it was a recipe for a grumpy Mom. And I was definitely feeling grumpy. When we got home, I had to grade tests, read an assignment, and type out assignments for the extra class I'm teaching, and so I basically ignored my children while they occupied themselves. I didn't finish doing those things until around 10:30 (see why the class has to go?), and then I realized I was late getting them to bed. Hannah is never a problem to get to bed, but John is ALWAYS difficult to get to sleep. We never have a night where he doesn't come out with "just one question" or some other excuse to get up. He just hates going to sleep. By 10:45, when I was still asking him repeatedly to get his teeth brushed, I was annoyed. By 11:00, when he yelled from his room that the music was making a funny noise, I was beyond annoyed. When I went in to turn it off, I pulled the covers around him and sighed as I walked out of the room. He said, "Mommy, are you okay?" And without thinking, I replied, "Yes, I'm okay, John. It's just that you're so difficult, and I would love to have just one night where you were easy to deal with." As I closed the bathroom door, I heard his little voice say, "But you love me that way, right Mom? You still love me that way?" Ouch.

Of course, I ran in to kiss him and assure him that I love him any way he is, that even when I am tired and grumpy, I love him just the way he is. He smiled, turned over, and pretty quickly went to sleep. But I was up for a while. I was upset with myself for being so careless with my words. It reminded me, too, of the many times I am confronted with my own sin, and in my own little voice I say to God, "But you still love me, right? You love me even when I'm like that?" He always does the Godly equivalent of pulling the blankets around me and covering me with kisses, just like I did with John. And it reminded me, too, that while I am looking at the twig in someone else's eye, I might want to examine the log in my own. I'm not exactly low-maintenance myself. I might want to calm down on the "you're so difficult" talk, since I'm pretty sure my husband and children (and maybe anyone else who knows me) could say exactly the same to me.

I don't have any grand conclusion to draw for you from this incident, except that I am grateful for a Father who loves me in all my high-maintenance, type-A personality, difficult-to-deal-with glory, and I'm thankful for the chance to wake up on a new day and try again to be the mother God created me to be, and not the stinky, careless Mom I can sometimes be without thinking. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are waking up to try again to be all God created you to be, and that you are only a few days away from your husband coming home from Russia. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

What's next? Only God knows

2009-10-18T23:27:00.000-07:00

The gorgeous view from the Alps above Berchtesgaden, Germany. This is where Hitler's Eagle's Nest is located. Literally breathtaking.
Moon over Salzburg, Austria. This is now one of my favorite spots on earth. So beautiful!
The two of us at a lake--Mondsee?--on our way to some sights related to The Sound of Music. Yes, Marc was a patient, good guy, and let me drag him around to different spots from the movie. It was a great trip!

Look among the nations! Observe! Be astonished! Wonder! Because I am doing something in your days--you would not believe if you were told. Habakkuk 1:5

Well, my friends...it's been a while. I am usually a more faithful writer than I have been since I wrote last a month ago! But between our trip to Austria, Marc and Sarah Beth's trip to Russia (leaving me as a single parent), and my teaching schedule, which has me out of the house teaching something most days...well, I've been busy. I'm only able to write this morning because I let the kids stay up kind of late last night, and they are still asleep. Those of you who know John certainly know that once he's up and going, there is little time (or quiet) for thinking reflectively and writing.

I'm working through a Bible study with some of the ladies here in Prague which focuses on God's greatness. I'm enjoying the study, which is written by James McDonald, and I'm daily amazed at the things I'm learning about God that I thought I already knew. It's not that there are big revelations to me, but more that at a time in our lives where we are constantly seeking God's will for what is next for us, I am in a position to see how God is above all and in charge of all. When we decided to come to the field five or so years ago, it was a major shock to our systems, because the future suddenly didn't look like we thought it would look. Now, as we wind down this term (our leave date is August 10) and contemplate what God has for us, we are, again, faced with a future that may not look exactly like we planned. And it's not that we weren't listening to God when we made plans, because we were. I just think that maybe we don't always dream big enough or see the world in the way He does. We see the world and the future through human eyes, because that's what we have, and it's hard to see through His eyes.

I would be lying if I said thoughts about the future haven't stressed us out a little. Not knowing exactly what's next...well, I'm a type-A girl, and not knowing makes me CRAZY! But there is comfort in this--we've said yes to whatever He has for us, and He has a plan. And His plan is better than anything we could dream up for ourselves. It might not be easier than anything we could dream up for ourselves, but it's definitely better. We know, because we've been on the front row for the amazing things He's done in the last five years of our lives, and He never fails us nor forsakes us. It turns out when He said in the Bible that He wouldn't do that...He wasn't kidding. Those weren't just nice words. He's a God of His Word. He can be trusted. So we trust and obey. And we try not to think too much about where we'll be this time next year, because we know He has a clear view of what we cannot see right now.

Well, Hannah is awake, so it's time for me to get going. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are trusting the God of Everything with the things you cannot see, and that the forecast for your part of the world does not include snow. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Making a case for the hard choices

2009-09-16T22:56:00.000-07:00

My precious babies. Love them.

For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus. Philippians 1:6

Let me start by saying this: This isn't what my life at 42 is supposed to be. First of all, by now I should be a principal of some school. I should live in a house. I should be on the praise team at my church, singing every week with my friends. I should be visiting colleges with Sarah Beth. I should be with my Mom and Daddy. That's what my life should look like at 42, according to the plans I made for myself way back when. Of course, my life looks nothing like that. I'm not a principal of any school. I volunteer at the local international school by teaching 10th grade English until their regular teacher makes it to Prague. I volunteer at my church by teaching English to preschoolers. I live in an apartment that isn't mine. I definitely don't sing on the praise team at church. In fact, I struggle to understand 50-60% of what goes on at my church. In the 2+ years since I left my home church, the only time I've sung in public was at Bella Notte at the kids' school last fall. I did not get to visit colleges with Sarah Beth, and I'll barely be back in the States in time to take her to college next summer. And though I saw my Daddy last Christmas, when he came to visit us in Moscow, I haven't seen my Momma in 2 years. Yep...life has definitely not turned out the way I planned.

Lest you think this is my version of a pity party, let me tell you that all of those things were my own choice. I chose to come to Europe. I chose to learn another language. I chose to leave my parents. I chose to leave my home church. I chose to leave my job. No one forced me to do any of those things. I chose all of them. We could go to an international church here in Prague (lots and lots of English speakers here), but we choose to go to Russian church. Not because it's the easier choice, but because it's the right choice for us. I long for and miss Russia very, very much, but I know that Prague is the right choice for us right now.

So why would I make these choices, which seem to go against the grain of everything I thought I wanted for myself and my family? Simple. The call of God is unavoidable. It's compelling. He's nothing if not persistent. Beyond His sacrifice of His own son, His grace and mercy and overwhelming love for me compel me to obedience. And obedience, for right now, means that we are often faced with the choice of what's good and what's best. None of the things I mentioned above are bad things. They were all part of the ministry I had in the States. And I firmly believe that if I'd stayed there, continuing in those things, God would have blessed them as He had for years. But I would have missed out on having a front-row seat for the display of God's miraculous nature that I've had since coming here. I would have missed out on knowing Him the way I know Him. The work here would certainly have gone on and prospered without me, but my life would be less, somehow...less than what it's supposed to be. Less than I was created to be. Less.

And so, this morning I am making a case for the hard choices. Make one choice today that you know He's asking you to make, and then watch what happens. I promise you the blessings will come. Not financial, and certainly not ease of life, but something far greater--you'll know Him more. You'll trust Him more. It doesn't mean the hard choices will get easier--that hasn't been my experience--but it does mean that you will, more and more, become the person God created you to be. That doesn't mean that He'll call you overseas, so don't panic. It also doesn't mean that what is God's best for you is God's best for someone else, so don't get too wrapped up in what other people should do, because that's probably not any of your business. (For my family, I'm channeling Miss Louise--take care of yourself, and you've got a mighty big job to do.) But it does mean that it's probably time to talk to the guy in the next desk about your faith, or the neighbor, or the kid in homeroom with you.

On a totally separate note, the leader of our company announced his retirement yesterday. Our company is infinitely better because we've been led for the last 17 years by Jerry and Bobbye Rankin, faithful folks who are the embodiment of servant leadership. My favorite story about "Uncle Jerry," as he's affectionately known among those who work with us, is that early in our training he came for a three-day session on spiritual warfare. In the middle of his first day there, he was taking questions, and he pointed to someone at the next table from us, calling him by name. At first, nobody thought anything of that, because we all had nametags. But you could feel the shock spread across the room as we all, one by one, realized that the young man who had asked the question wasn't wearing his tag. Dr. Rankin knew his name because he'd prayed for him. He'd prayed for all of us. We knew then that he was someone worth following, because it was clear who he was following. We are sad at the thought of not having the Rankins at work on behalf of the millions of people who don't know Christ, but I am confident that God will continue to use them in significant and amazing ways.

Wherever you are in the world, I challenge you to make the hard choice today, and I hope your husband is coming home from Russia, too! Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Tearing down some statues

2009-09-04T22:40:00.000-07:00

. This picture in front of Lenin's tomb really says it all, doesn't it? Hannah and Sarah Beth are giggling, John is making some kind of strange gesture, Marc is trying to look normal, and I look like I'm going to kill someone. (I was trying to look stern and Russian...but crazy was what I came up with, huh?) We are an interesting group.

For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. II Corinthians 10:3-5

It is downright chilly this morning in Prague, and the cats and I are enjoying a rare quiet morning together. Our friends took John and Hannah yesterday to their house, and we are meeting them in Plzen this morning, so the house is VERY quiet. It's pretty nice, I have to tell you. Actually, the cats are sacked out on the couch, curled up with John's jacket that he left there yesterday, so I'm pretty much enjoying this time to myself. We went out to dinner last night (a rarity for us), and we just thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. I pray I will never become so accustomed to the beauty of Prague that I fail to be awed by the city at night. It truly is one of the most beautiful places in the world. Today we will get on a train to Plzen and enjoy the Czech countryside outside our window. Not a bad way to spend a morning. Of course, the big news today is that it's the start of college football season--yes, for those of you who know us, Marc IS making his famous chili for us tonight. We have plans made for an entire afternoon and evening of watching football with our friends. It's not a bad life.

Marc and Hannah returned from Poland on Tuesday, and they had a wonderful and productive trip. We are headed back to Poland for Thanksgiving, and I can hardly wait after seeing their pictures. It's gorgeous. It is definitely a perk of this life that we get to do some traveling around Europe. I began teaching English lessons on Tuesday afternoon (that is a tale for another blog), and on Friday I agreed to help fill in for an English teacher at the Christian school three blocks away. (I can't help myself. It's a sickness, really. All you have to say to me are the words 'English' and 'teacher'--it's like Batman's signal in the sky. I gotta buy a cape.) Again, that's a topic for another blog. Something interesting happened with John this week, and I really want to share it and tell you how God used it in my life.

If you have been a reader of this blog for a while, you know that John is hyperactive. Now, if you haven't dealt with hyperactive kids, you probably think that means he just has a lot of energy. He does have a lot of energy, but there are a host of other issues that come along with hyperactivity. Let me go on the record as saying that I firmly believe God created John for a purpose, and that his hyperactivity is part of that purpose. John could be the guy to cure cancer, because he does not see the same world you and I do. He has John-vision, and I thoroughly believe that some day, that is going to be a tremendous blessing not only for John, but for all of us who love him. It does, however, come with some challenges, one of which is a tendency toward obsession. John is not a let-it-go kind of guy. And the things he can't let go are often strange to me. For example, this week, it was his "statue."

John's "statue" was a plastic cup filled with water and a McDonald's toy that John put in the freezer as a science experiment. John loves science, and he often asks to "make an experiment," and as long as it isn't going to hurt him or blow anything up, I generally agree. You cannot imagine the many things that have been frozen in my freezer over the years. So when he asked to put this in the freezer to see how it would freeze, I agreed. What I didn't know was that we would spend two days checking on it every ten minutes. In the middle of math. In the middle of reading. "Can I check on my statue?" was the question of the day. I finally asked him, "John, do you think you're becoming a little obsessed with this?" "Yes, Mommy. But I just can't help myself." Finally, in what was a pretty big moment of growth for him, John came and asked if he could destroy his statue. "I just think I can't stop thinking about it if I know it's there, Mom." I agreed that this was a wise decision on his part, and then we had the fun of watching it melt and seeing how long that took. I was proud of John. It's hard for him to let go, and he did it on his own. That's big and giant for my little hyperactive boy.

It occurred to me later in the week that I could use some statue tearing down of my own. While I don't have anything in the freezer besides hamburger at the moment, there are some pretty persistent things in my thought life that keep me from being who God created me to be. Things like my perception of what I "bring to the table" on the field. Things like who I think I'm supposed to be as opposed to who God created me to be. Things like what the next step in our lives is. Those are some pretty hefty "statues" that have been keeping me metaphorically checking the freezer every ten minutes instead of focusing on this moment, on what God has laid in my lap in terms of ministry, on what my family needs from me now instead of next year. I don't know about you, but in my life, sin creeps in through my thought life. I'm unlikely to do something outrageously sinful in the eyes of the world--murder, adultery, theft--I'm probably going to leave those alone. But God sees my thought life, and His word says He is just as mortified by what He sees there as He is by those "obvious" sins. It's those things that keep me from Him, that keep me at a distance from the person I am supposed to be. And I really want to be that person. I really do.

Well, it's time for me to jump in the shower and get going. Marc is still asleep, and I have cinnamon rolls in the breadmaker to surprise him. Today is a big day for all of us--we are truly college football fanatics. I'm going to enjoy every second of it. Wherever you are in the world, I challenge you to look around at your own statues that need tearing down, and I hope that your husband is making his fabulous chili for college game day, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Who are your Russians?

2009-08-24T22:45:00.000-07:00

I love this picture, not just because it's a good pic of the girls in Moscow, but because you can see the outline of the African continent that S.B. has embroidered on this shirt. She is passionate about Africa like I am passionate about Russia.

For God so loved the world...John 3:16a

What is this story you would lay down your life to tell? Steven Curtis Chapman, "No Greater Love"

It's another gorgeous day in Prague, and I am up early with the cats, one of whom is literally sitting across my forearms as I type. They are not our cats, but they are sweet, and we really do love them, although waking up at 5:30 every morning to the sandpaper tongue across my cheek is not my favorite thing. We spent a lovely, wonderful weekend in Plzen with our friends, enjoying the beauty of the city and getting to know our new country a little better. We can take the train and be there in about an hour and a half, so I'm sure we will do more of that as time goes by. We are blessed to be close to people we love so much.

Plzen is on the way to our favorite place in Czech Republic--Karlovy Vary. It is the most beautiful place on earth, in my opinion, and we can't wait to visit it again this fall. It is surrounded by beautiful hills, and the natural beauty coupled with the grandeur of Czech architecture is nearly breathtaking. But it isn't the beauty of Karlovy Vary that makes it our favorite place in Czech Republic. It's who lives there. You see, Karlovy Vary is so Russian that its airport has daily direct flights to Moscow. It is a favorite vacation spot for Russians, and many of the workers are also Russian. The signs outside shops are often in Russian, German, English and Czech. (It's very near the border with Germany.) It is, at its very core, a Russian town in the Czech Republic. We fell in love with it the second we stepped foot in it almost a year ago. Some day, we would love to live and work and minister there.

You don't have to know us very well to know that we are passionate about Russians. One of my very best friends said to me recently that it only takes being in a room with us for about an hour to know that we are deeply committed to Russian people. Talk to us for very long, and we will bring the conversation around to Russia and Russians. We go to church every week and only understand about 60% of the sermons--all three of them--because the church is ministering to Russian-speaking people and seeking to evangelize a Russian-speaking neighborhood. Russian phrases pepper our language, we speak Russian often in our home, our children study Russian as part of school...because we love Russians and want to be able to communicate with them. We now live in a city where we could speak nothing but English and do ministry...but we seek out places where we know Russian-speakers will be. Why? Certainly not because it's the easiest road we could take. But God has placed in us a burning desire for Russians to know Him. He has placed within us a burden for Russians to know the truth that will set them free. I read a Time magazine article Sunday about the levels of alcoholism amongst the Russian people, and I went outside and sat and cried, because it broke my heart to think of these people I love so much, who are literally drinking themselves to death. I am not a selfless person. I am not naturally inclined to think of anyone but myself and my family. I am as self-absorbed as the next person, I promise. But when God gives you a burden for a group of people, He makes it unavoidable. Talk to our friends who are passionate about Czechs, our friends who are passionate about Serbs, about Brazilians...God-given passion is inexplicable and unavoidable.

So maybe you think that kind of passion is only for missionaries. I don't see anything in the Great Commission that says, "If you're a missionary, collect the funds and go tell the world about Me." Nope. Pretty sure it's for all of us who call ourselves Christ-followers. In doing some research for Marc on Unreached Unengaged People Groups (UUPGs), I visited a website the researcher for our company sent me. It was staggering. Page after page of people groups who have never heard the name of Jesus, who have no access to the Bible in their language, who have no known evangelical presence. Four pages for Russia alone. (Yep, that's the first country I looked at--I can't help myself.) Twenty-eight pages for the U.S. (though in fairness, many of those are not totally unengaged). Whoever you are and wherever you are, there are people who desperately need to know the good news about Jesus Christ. They live next door and across the street from you, just like they live next door and across the street from me.

So here's my challenge to you--if you are already passionate about a group God has laid on your heart, do something about it this week. Pray for them. Find out about them. Figure out a way to minister to them. And if you aren't passionate about any particular group, ask God to lay someone on your heart. If you ask and honestly seek His passion, I promise He'll be faithful to give you what you seek. The more I know Christ, the more I know for sure that His gift of salvation was meant for everyone, and the more I'm convinced it's my responsibility to share it with others. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that God has given you a passionate burden to see others know Him, and that you are trying out a really good recipe tonight, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

There's a sweet, sweet spirit....

2009-08-16T22:00:00.000-07:00

John and his "friend"--he was supposed to greet kids as they came into the ministry event on Saturday, but was soon distracted by the other children. He mostly played with everyone he saw.

But the lovingkindness of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him, and His righteousness to children's children, to those who keep His covenant and remember His precepts to do them. Psalm 103:17-18

The bells are ringing as I write this, which means it is 7 a.m., and I must get moving. I've been up since 4:30, but stayed in bed until 4:50 in an effort to sleep until the alarm went off at 6. And as is the usual story, the more time I have to do stuff, the further behind I get. Something weird about my personality, I guess. I should already be exercising in order to get my shower and have the kids up by 8:15, and clearly I'm not exercising while writing this. So I need to get a move on in order to stay on schedule on this, our first day of school.

Things here in Prague continue to go really well. We are in love with our new church, a small Russian-speaking church plant across town from us. It takes us about 45 minutes to get there--which is about half of what it took us to get to church in Moscow, so I'm not complaining. We had a great event on Saturday, with lots and lots of children from predominantly Russian-speaking homes showing up to play games and make crafts. What was really exciting for us was that the church members came and stayed--it wasn't a 'missionary-only' event. The church members seem excited about and really committed to their church, and it's fun and very rewarding to be involved in something like that.

Yesterday, Marc preached a sermon on church history and its impact on the 21st century church. It was really interesting, which surprised me. Not that Marc was interesting--that didn't surprise me at all, since I've found him interesting for about 20 years, now. But the topic seemed a little dull to us at first, and involved a good amount of research. It was honestly really interesting to listen to the connections between church history and the church today. It was a great day at church. I'd judge that I understood somewhere in the 50-60% range, which is great compared to what I sometimes can understand. (I read and write Russian pretty well, but my understanding and speaking have definitely lagged behind.) I was able to hold conversations with other people, and I even picked up most of the announcements (except I missed one critical word--baptism-- which made one announcement confusing). No person on any field anywhere struggled with language as much as I did, I promise. You try learning a new language while homeschooling three kids--it's almost impossible. And I can remember days when I would just cry at the thought that Irina was going to show up and make me talk my way through some scenario in which I had to use verbs of motion (don't ask, they're a nightmare). But I am so thankful that we were given language that has enabled us to follow God's call on our lives to minister to Russians. It's still a struggle every day, and I know that I'll NEVER feel like I'm fluent in Russian, and after three sermons and lots of music all in Russian we come home pretty exhausted...but I'm grateful that I can hold a conversation and understand a good amount of a sermon.

Something that really touched my heart as a Mom yesterday was the lady who sat behind John. It was SOOOOO hot in that room. Poor John (whose Mommy wasn't really thinking) had on long pants and a short-sleeved shirt, and he was sweating to death. (Russians are really superstitious about drafts, so there was no air flowing through that room, I promise.) Add to that three sermons, two sets of songs, and the Lord's Supper all, of course, in Russian...and my hyperactive little boy was really struggling through the 2.5 hour service. At one point I looked over at him, and he had laid his head against the back of the chair, and the sweet woman behind him was just stroking his hair to help him stay calm. She did that through the whole service. After the service was over, she hugged and kissed him and me before leaving. I thought she was just really precious. There is a sweetness to the fellowship between believers, regardless of differences in culture, age, and language. It is one of the best things about this life. No, my kids don't understand a lot of what goes on in church...but I think they know they are loved by the people there. So we love our church...but I'm definitely praying for cooler weather next Sunday!

Well, it's time to exercise, shower, make breakfast, and get the kids up for their first day of school. John was not very excited about starting this morning, but Hannah is ready to go, so hopefully, it will be a great first day. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are thankful for the sweet fellowship of other believers, and that you found ready-made blinis in the refrigerated section of your grocery store, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Being encouraged

2009-08-07T23:10:00.000-07:00

We have had the chance to see some amazing things. Here is one of my favorites--Christ the Savior Cathedral in Moscow. This picture was actually taken from a boat on the Moskva river.
Statue of Jan Hus in the middle of Old Town Square, Prague. Jan Hus was a 14th century reformer, burned for heresy about a century before Luther nailed his theses to the door. He was from Bohemia, which is now part of Czech Republic.
Beautiful Prague. So different from the beauty of Moscow--lots of beautiful spires everywhere, because the churches here are mostly Catholic. Very different from our onion domes in Russia--the hallmark of Russian Orthodox churches. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss the domes a little.

Wait for the Lord; be strong and let your heart take courage; yes, wait for the Lord. Psalm 27:14

It is a gorgeous, blue-skied morning here in Prague, Czech Republic. I am enjoying mug number two of "real" coffee, after drinking (and being thankful for!) the instant stuff for a week. We arrived home yesterday evening from a week-long camp in the mountains along the border of Czech Republic and Poland. Absolutely beautiful. I cannot imagine being there, seeing the incredible beauty, and not knowing for certain that some power higher than mere man created all of that. Chaos and randomness look nothing like those mountains, trust me. Chaos looks like my living room at the moment, which is full of the laundry I am desperately trying to get done in order to pack Sarah Beth's suitcase for her trip to the States this week. We enjoyed ourselves very much, but we were definitely glad to be home. This next week will be spent seeing Sarah Beth off on her trip and preparing to start school with the other two the next week. We are also going to be finishing up putting the house together--we still have not a single picture on the walls, and our stuff is definitely not as organized as it must be for Marc and the kids to work here. So it will be a busy week.

The English camp we worked at this past week was very interesting to me, very different from the kind of ministry we've done in Russia. Although many people on the field in Russia are working with the Russian Baptist Union, we did not, at least not in Moscow. It isn't that we avoided them or anything like that, but Marc's job didn't entail a close relationship with the RBU in Moscow. Now, he has several extremely close, important relationships with RBU churches outside of Moscow, places he has been as part of his travels around the country, churches he adores and where he is mightily adored. There are some really exciting things going on around Russia, great partnerships between folks in the States and churches on the ground. But because I stayed in Moscow and didn't travel with Marc, I never really got a feeling for what that kind of partnership could be--beyond going to church every week and trying to understand the sermon.

This week was really interesting for me, because although there were Americans there--four families working for our company and a team from Montana--we were definitely not in charge. A wonderful, loving Czech Baptist church was in charge. What an encouragement they were to me--just watching their passion and their clear sense of mission to reach their own people. And the love they showed us--amazing. We spent the first night at the home of one of the families in the church, and we were treated so well. Then a great day Sunday in church, where there weren't enough seats for everyone. Then a delicious lunch provided by the church. And even the folks who couldn't speak a word of English (my Czech is currently limited to 'yes' 'no' 'please' and 'thank you'--all of which I say like a Russian) were so friendly and wonderful. Marc has had that kind of partnership experience, so I don't know that it was a big deal for him, but it was for me. It was just an encouraging week all around.

I'll be honest with you--I have no clue where we'll be in a year. Could be coming back to Prague, going back to Russia, or headed home to the States to stay for a while. I just don't know. But I do know this for sure--the experiences we have had in the last two years, the things we've seen, the people we've met--I wouldn't trade a single minute of any of it...even the hard minutes. Just when I think I know God, have Him figured out--He does something else amazing, and He shows me some other aspect of who He is. I knew God in Middleburg, Florida. I really did. But the way in which I know God now...worth every hardship of the last two years, every stupid language blooper I've made, every tear I've shed for my children...worth it all. You know why? Because He is worth everything I have to give. I knew that before. But I KNOW it now. And I'm thankful for that knowledge.

One last thing--this week marked the anniversary of my Mimsey's death. I never get past August 6th without a few tears, and I guess I never will. She was a precious, priceless woman with a gentleness and a kindness that I can only vaguely hope to attain some day. I don't think I'm much like my Mimsey, but oh, how glad I am that I had all those years with her in my life. So last night, while Marc was getting McDonald's to take home for the kids, I bought some peach ice cream and cried a little, thinking of all the times I sat on her back porch, turning the hand crank of the ice cream maker, listening to her hum a tune in the kitchen. And because he knows me better than I know me, Marc came up and whispered, "They'd be so proud of your life." So I smiled and cried a little more...and walked home to the kids I know she would have been so crazy about if she'd lived long enough to know them. So even though August 6th always makes me a little sad, I am so thankful for the idyllic summers I spent with both sets of grandparents in Clarksville, Tennessee, for the relationships with my grandparents, and for the Godly influence they had on my life. I am, indeed, a blessed woman. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are thinking about the ways God is encouraging you, and that you don't have a pile of laundry calling your name. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Clearly, we're too young to have been married this long

2009-07-26T22:33:00.000-07:00

My beautiful kids...amazing to think how they have grown in the last two years. Time has definitely not stood still!

Not to us, O LORD, no to us, but to Your name give glory because of Your lovingkindness, because of Your truth. Psalm 115:1

It is a beautiful morning in Prague, and I am settling in to write with a delicious cup of German coffee, courtesy of friends who brought us a treat from their trip to Berlin. One of the joys of living in this part of the world is the ability to travel easily (borders are open between EU countries) and see a little more of the world than we could from Russia (not an EU country, and definitely not an open border!). To be honest, we could do nothing but travel around Czech Republic and see some amazing things--this is one of the most beautiful places God created.

We are settling in slowly but surely. The boxes arrived from Moscow on Wednesday, and while there is still a great deal to do in order to be done unpacking, we are definitely heading in that direction. It is good to have our pictures and the things we have collected in Russia--it makes this feel more like home to us. We have spent some time with friends, which is wonderful. It's a blessing to have some built-in relationships, but also fun to build new ones. Prague is a much smaller city than Moscow, and even the folks who are "way out" from the center aren't more than an hour from us, and many people are only a few blocks away. (In Moscow, it took us right around an hour to get to the homes of friends...that was the norm.) So we feel like we can see anybody we want without making a big production out of it. That's fun. There are a good many kids here, and our children are definitely enjoying that. Hannah spent the week with our friends, the Lewises, in Plzen--about an hour or so by car from Prague--working in an English camp. She had a wonderful time. Hannah loves to go and work...she is definitely not content to just "live life" and have that be her ministry.

Tomorrow is our 19th wedding anniversary. That's just bizarre to even think about, frankly. (I hope you just thought, "Wow! They must have been teenagers when they married." C'mon. Be a little surprised that we have been married that long!) We were young--22--when we married...and so stupid. When I look back and think about some of the decisions we made over the years that were just idiotic...well, I'm amazed by God's immense grace toward us. We ran for years from God's call on our lives. And it isn't like we didn't live a fulfilling, fun life as we ran from that call. But on this side of the call, having finally listened and obeyed, I can definitely testify that God's best for us is infinitely better than the "good" lives we were living. Even when this life is hard, it is far better than what I would have chosen for us if left to my own devices. Safe, secure lives are fine, but living this adventure with my very best friend...so good.

It hasn't been all sunshine and roses for the last two years, though. It's been hard. Really, really hard. For one thing, change of any kind stresses a marriage. Add to that children who are transitioning and a country that isn't your own, and it could be a recipe for disaster. But God has been faithful and gracious, and we've survived. You know the hardest thing about the last two years, at least for our marriage? Marc's happiness and success. He came to the field and thrived. I came to the field and completely lost who I thought I was. Every single thing I counted as mine--my career, my success as a teacher, my ability as a student, my ability to communicate, my singing--gone. Wiped out in one plane trip to Russia. I would love to say that I stepped into Moscow, donned my apron, and became a quiet little wife. That, of course, would be a lie, and I am contractually obligated to tell the truth. In my own defense, I tried. But oooohhhh...how I failed. Failed at being the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect missionary, the perfect language student...the perfect anything. And that was hard, my friends...on me, on the kids, and definitely on Marc and our marriage. Over time, I have learned that being successful in this life looks different than being successful in my former life. I've learned that being a missionary might look a little different for me than for other people, but that's okay. And I've learned that nobody on earth, not even my parents and sisters--who are completely biased about me, thank God--nobody believes in me more than Marc. Marc, it turns out, never wanted me to be anything but exactly who I am. It is one of God's greatest blessings--having someone who loves you exactly as you are, warts and all. Just one more blessing to add to the list of the many, many things I don't deserve, but am oh, so grateful for on a daily basis.

Normally, I would end this by saying something like, "So this morning, I am thankful for my husband," but that would be too little. There is never a morning that I don't wake up and thank God for Marc. Literally. Before my feet hit the floor. It's the first thing I say to God every morning. I hope I never get over the blessing of being married to Marc. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are amazed by the person God has given you to love best, and that you get to spend the day with one of your closest friends, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Thank you, thank you...did I mention, thank you?

2009-07-18T21:04:00.000-07:00

My babies on Red Square. They have certainly grown in our two years on the field, haven't they?

Many a soul begins to come to God when he flings off being religious, because there is only one master of the human heart, and that is not religion but Jesus Christ. --Oswald Chambers

It is a cold, rainy, gray morning here in Prague, and if I'm really honest--I'm glad. It was super hot a few days this week, and it was miserable. Eighty-five may not sound that hot, but when you live on the top floor and don't have air conditioning...it's a little sweatier than I like to be! So we're enjoying the cool a bit, and we're definitely not complaining about the rain, no matter what it does to my hair. I am enjoying a cup of Starbucks and listening to the quiet. Not a bad way to spend the morning. We are keeping our friends' children--a four-year-old and three-year-old twins--so quiet has been quite the rare commodity for the last few days. We must have worn them out yesterday, though, because they are still asleep this morning.

It's been quite a week here in our new city. Hannah has had two different sleepovers--one at our house, another at a friend's--and headed to Plzen (pronounced Plizen in Czech, which is notorious for its lack of vowels) with our friends Larry and Melissa yesterday. She will be working with them at an English Camp this week along with a team from FBC Forney, TX. Sarah Beth and John have been helping me with the kids, and Sarah Beth is getting ready for (and very excited about) her five weeks in the States in August and September. We spent some time at the park near us, which is the most amazing park I've ever seen, and I met several women who spoke English and were very friendly. (Parks are great for meeting people, but I could never get much conversation going in Russia--a combination of my so-so Russian and a general distrust of strangers in that culture.) But the big event of our week was, unfortunately, Marc's accident.

Marc is working from home, and in order to do so, he needed a desk that can accommodate his equipment, so the office here gave him a large, heavy metal L-shaped desk. On Tuesday, he was in the loft putting it together (the living room has a nice-sized loft in it), and I was below him making a call to the States when I felt a vibration in my feet and heard him scream. A metal beam from the desk had fallen on his face, and a second beam had hit him across his arms and chest. Of course, this did a pretty good amount of damage. After an emergency trip to the dentist and a series of x-rays and a root canal, he has a splint on his top right teeth and a lot of pain. He fractured his front right tooth right under his nose, and the other teeth moved inward. The dentist is still not sure if the teeth will remain "viable," but we're hopeful. Above all, we are grateful to God for the little damage that was done in comparison to what could have happened. After I looked at what fell on him, I began running different scenarios--what if it had hit an inch upward, or what if he hadn't turned his head when he saw it coming--and realized that our situation is about as good as it could be given the circumstances, and it could have been a thousand times worse than it was.

So, we're grateful this morning. Grateful for a God who looks out for us in every detail of life--even the accidents that happen along the way. Grateful to work for a company that takes ridiculously good care of us. Grateful to every Southern Baptist who has ever put money in the plate for the Cooperative Program or for the Lottie Moon Christmas Offering. Maybe until now, that was just something you did "for the missionaries"--that nameless, faceless group of people somewhere in Africa. And don't get me wrong--there is nothing wrong with that. But I hope the next time you contribute, the next time you tithe and your church gives part of that money to the CP, I hope you will remember that your offering isn't going to nameless, faceless people, but to my family in Prague, to pay for our home, our homeschool materials, our salary so we can buy food, and yes, in some cases, our emergency root canals and dental work. Your offering is going to our friends in Plzen, our friends in Brazil, our friends in very dangerous and closed parts of the world. We aren't nameless or faceless, but real people living everyday, real lives across the world, praying that God will use us to impact the darkness of a world that doesn't know Him. Sometimes, in the midst of those real lives, desk parts fall on us--and you make it possible for us to not worry about the financial aspect of the accident. You make life here, in one of the most atheistic nations on earth, possible. We could not be here without you.

So this morning, my family says thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. For every dime you've given. For every prayer you've said. For just remembering us. Thank you. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are grateful for the people who make your life possible, and that no desk parts fall on you this week. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Good morning from Prague!

2009-07-10T22:17:00.000-07:00

Me and my man by the Aegean Sea. Not a bad life we lead, is it?
The family posing in front of the Aegean Sea. Sarah Beth had a worship service she had to attend, so she couldn't be in the picture, but otherwise, I think it's pretty good. Not real sure what John is looking at, though. No telling, really.

I am here not to realize myself, but to know Jesus. In Christian work the initiative is too often the realization that something has to be done and I must do it. That is never the attitude of the spiritual saint, his aim is to secure the realization of Jesus Christ in every set of circumstances he is in. Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

It is a rainy, cold morning in Prague, and I am thoroughly enjoying a cup of Starbucks House Blend. My wonderful husband brought me some from a trip he made yesterday. It's my one extravagance on the field--I like to have really good coffee every morning. Things here are going well--we arrived on Monday afternoon and have been working on settling in ever since. Our boxes are on a truck still in Moscow, so that's not ideal, but it worked out okay, since now we will have everything ready before our stuff arrives sometime this week or next. Hopefully, that will mean that when it does arrive, unpacking will be a little bit easier. It's never easy, though, is it? But we are settling in to life here, which is very different from life in Moscow. We are enjoying the new apartment, which has a good amount of space, and we are getting to know the neighborhood. It's really nice to have a neighborhood--definitely something we missed in our part of Moscow.

One thing that has been particularly great about our week is the incredibly warm welcome we have received. We really feel like people are glad we are here, and that is such a blessing. It was not an easy decision to come here--we love Russia and Russians, and we really struggled with the idea of leaving both. But God has confirmed for us, again and again, the decision we made to be here. That doesn't mean I don't miss my friends in Russia, because I do, or that I am not a little overwhelmed by Czech, because I am. We have already begun to seek out places where Russian-speakers are. Sarah Beth came home from buying shampoo earlier in the week with the good news that the owner of the store was Russian and very nice. I am looking forward to heading in to meet her some time in the next week. The great thing about speaking some Russian is that there are pockets of Russian-speakers everywhere in the world. We are definitely not limited to Russia. I cannot help but think that is not a coincidence, but rather a Divine design. I don't really believe in coincidence, anyway.

So what does any of this have to do with the Oswald Chambers quote above? I've been reflecting all week on my time in Russia, on my life for the last two years, the victories and struggles, and I've come to realize that many times, the struggles were God's way of bringing me back to a desire just to know Him. Not to do anything for Him. Not to learn Russian for Him. Just to know Him. I am a worker bee, and I definitely enjoy when I feel like I am doing something. But sometimes, the best, most important thing I can do is sit still and worship. Sometimes, rather than always trying to be busy doing things for God, I need to shut my trap and listen to God. I am praying that my time in Prague will be a time to renew my mind, renew my strength, and renew my joy in serving the God of Everything. All of those things are wrapped up in knowing Him more.

Well, I am going back to get a second cup of coffee, and it's time for me to grab the clothes out of the dryer before they get all wrinkled. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you would take time today to stop and listen to the God who longs to know you and be known, and that you are going with your husband to Bohemian Bagel for breakfast, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,

Kellye

Saying farewell

2009-06-29T20:21:00.000-07:00

A statue of Karl Marx overlooks a block of the center of Moscow. His philosophy formed the basis of communism, which had and continues to have a profound impact on the people of Russia.
General Zubkov's statue outside the entrance to Red Square. He is trampling a Nazi flag beneath his horse. Russians are extremely proud (and rightly so) of their involvement in defeating the Nazi forces.
Probably our city's most famous landmark--St. Basil's cathedral on Red Square. It is said that Ivan the Terrible had the architect's eyes gauged out so that he could never create anything to rival the beauty of St. Basil's.

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

You're the God of this city

You're the King of these people

You're the Lord of this nation

You are

You're the Light in this darkness

You're the Hope to the hopeless

You're the Peace to the restless

You are

"God of this city"

While it is only Tuesday and we don't leave until Monday morning, today is likely the last chance I will have to write before our big move to Prague. The apartment is mostly empty. Our belongings are on a truck between Moscow and Prague. We are taking care of last minute things, spending time with friends, and saying our final farewells. This morning, I have spent some time reflecting on what God has done in the last two years as we have lived in this massive city--Europe's largest, and the third largest in the world. The latest calculation I've seen puts the population of Moscow at 15.1 million people. Eleven million people ride the Moscow Metro each day, including the five members of the Hooks clan. So what has God been doing as we have lived in this large place, as David says earlier in Psalm 31? More than I could have imagined two years ago.

He has grown me out of my comfort zone. It was extremely difficult for me to live in a place where nothing anyone said to me for the first six months made any sense whatsoever. I was accustomed to being a smart person. Suddenly, I had trouble communicating with small children, who had a much broader vocabulary in Russian than I did. My first reaction was complete frustration. But it was clear that God had called us here, so I just kept plugging along at the language. I still am not nearly where I want to be with Russian, and Marc is way, way more advanced than I, but God has definitely used this time to grow me out of the idea that I had to rely on my own "smartness" to get by. Now I know--I have only to rely on Him.
He has taught me to pray constantly. I literally have an ongoing conversation with God all day long. I could not possibly have survived the first year on the field without a true sense of His constant presence. I have learned that nothing is too small to bring to Him.
He has made me understand that He doesn't need me to do anything but be obedient, even when it doesn't make sense. When I came here, I genuinely wanted to offer God all of my skills to use as He saw fit. I believed my God-given abilities would certainly be useful to Him. But I have spent the last two years feeling like a failure because I couldn't seem to accomplish anything for God. What I have come to understand is that it isn't about what I can do for Him, but what He can do through me if I just respond in obedience to Him. That means saying yes even when I don't want to or when it doesn't make logical sense to me. No matter what--yes, Lord.
He has taught me that home is wherever the family is. It was a shock to me the first time I called Moscow "home." But it's where we all are, and so it's home. There are certainly people I miss in the States, and I'd give my right arm some days for a Chik-fil-a sandwich, but home is where Marc and the kids are. And for now, they're in Europe. So Europe is home.
He has given me a heart for this city and these people. Never in a million years could I love Moscow and its people without fully relying on God. I am not a city person. My Russian is not terrible but not great, either. The culture here is 100% different from my native culture. Yet when I think about leaving on Monday, it's hard. Not because I don't love Prague and all its beauty, but because my heart breaks at leaving Russia. My heart remains here. I will find ministry in Prague, because that's in my nature. But I am praying already for Russian-speaking folks to be involved with in ministry. That, my friends, is completely and totally a God thing.

Goodbyes are never easy, and I seem to have done nothing but say goodbye the last couple of years. But in the midst of this goodbye, I can honestly say that wherever I look, I see the fingerprints of God's lovingkindness to me in this besieged city. I am thankful for a God who remains faithful, compassionate and merciful no matter what city I am living in, or in what part of the world. I am also grateful that He loves this city and these people more than I can fathom, and that His heart remains steadfast in His desire that they would each come to know Him personally. That will continue to be my prayer for Moscow, even as I say, "Dos vedonya." Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you have a heart for whatever city God has put you in for this moment, and that you are having dinner with some of your favorite people tonight, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,

Kellye

Could we borrow those life vests, please?

2009-06-13T21:35:00.000-07:00

Hannah's best impression of a model, maybe? I love this, because you can see the lady who works at this shop in the mirror. It was sweet of her to let Hannah and her friend try things on and take pictures.

O Timothy, guard what has been entrusted to you, avoiding worldly chatter and the opposing arguments of what is falsely called "knowledge"--which some have professed and thus gone astray from the faith. I Timothy 6:1-2

It is a gray, yucky morning here in Moscow. We are heading to house church and then a birthday party for a friend then back home to finish packing our room, so it will be a full day here. It has been a rough couple of weeks for us--packing, getting rid of stuff, packing, packing, packing. We did have a really lovely evening with friends Friday night, and we've actually managed to have some family time amidst the packing, but it's mostly been a long, steady stream of going through our lives and realizing how much we've accumulated in our two years in Moscow.

Three weeks from tomorrow we leave Moscow. It's hard for me to believe, and I definitely have mixed feelings about it. There are many things about this city that I love. There are also many things I hate about this city. I will miss my friends here, certainly. On Saturday, we will have some Russian friends over for a farewell party, and that will be hard. It will be especially hard to say goodbye to Sergei, who has become such a part of our lives here. But we know for certain that it is time to head to Prague, at least for the next year. We are tired, and to be honest, we need a break. We have had no vacation in the two years we've been here, except for a couple of days in Prague last October, and we need some down time. Of course, we will still be working in Prague, but it is a smaller city, a little slower, a little more Western than Moscow. It isn't America by any stretch of the imagination, but it is a place where we have good friends, where we know for certain that we can breathe a little more deeply and relax a little. I'm looking forward to that. And there is ministry there for all of us, because there are Russian-speakers everywhere in the world. Any major city anywhere in the world is going to have a group of Russian-speakers, making our time learning Russian time well-spent.

The verses above are important to me. The "Timothys" are some of my favorite books in the New Testament (I'm reading Numbers right now and finding it a surprisingly good read), and Paul admonishes Timothy again and again to "guard what has been entrusted to you." I feel as though my main job here in Moscow has been to guard what has been entrusted to me. Sometimes, it feels like our little family is on a dangerously small life raft, clinging to the sides and praying for help against a choppy, rough ocean. Think The Perfect Storm without the lifevests. In the last two months, that has been especially true. And as we prepare to leave Moscow, it has really felt like we were fighting uphill battles against an enemy we can't see clearly, but whose arrows are poisonous just the same. I'm sure many of you who read this can identify with feeling like you are under attack from every corner. But you know what? Just because it feels that way, doesn't mean that's reality. It's easy for the enemy of our souls to find strongholds in our emotions and use them against us. I'm not saying emotions are bad, because they aren't--they are God-given just like the rest of our characteristics. But the reality is that often, our emotions lead us astray. We don't have to ignore them, but we have to evaluate them against what we know of our God. And when I read the Bible, I find a holy God who claims that we are NEVER alone. And because I know Him to be true to His word, I can trust that even though it seems that we are fighting enemies alone, we really aren't. He's here with us, just like He's always been. And though we might stray, He never does.

One thing I will say about the move is that it has highlighted the differences between Marc and me. He processes everything aloud. I process everything internally. Frustration makes him talk, and it makes me withdraw. It turns out that those personality tests were right--we are pretty much opposites. The great thing is that no matter how different we are, we have grown together so much the last two years that we can laugh at the differences. Not always, but most of the time. We've laughed a good bit in the last week. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know that you are not alone, no matter the circumstances, and that in a week, you will be heading to Greece for a week, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

The notebook

2009-06-05T23:15:00.000-07:00

The outside of the notebook. It spells Aeroflot in Cyrillic. Aeroflot is the national airline of Russia.
The front page. The two quotes are both from Jim Elliot. One says, "Wherever you are, be all there." The other says, "Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God."

Lord God, I praise You this morning, for I have trusted in Your lovingkindness, and I rejoice in Your salvation. As I sit at my kitchen table and look over the city of Moscow, I sing to You, for you have, indeed, dealt bountifully with me. (Psalm 13:5-6) --first entry in my prayer journal after we moved to Moscow, October 6, 2007

I rarely quote myself. It's kind of arrogant and icky. However, for the purposes of this blog, I couldn't get around it. Yesterday was pretty momentous for me, because I finished the journal that I have been writing in since I became a missionary. It was a gift from my parents. Daddy received it as a retirement gift from Aeroflot, the national airline of Russia. It is a really cool notebook, with lined pages and lots of them. (I cannot write in a straight line without lines. Gotta have 'em.) I saved it to use when I went away to training with my family in August of 2007. And in it, I have recorded prayer requests (many, many of your names are mentioned), praise to God, answered prayers, things I think God is telling me, many confessions of my own failures, and anything else that occurs to me as I'm praying. One of my goals when I came to the field--and it remains a goal--was to improve my prayer life. Not to be more consistent--I've told you before that I'm a girl with a checklist and some discipline, and finding time to spend with God is not a problem. But I've always felt that my prayers were--I don't know--simple. Not really deep or meaningful, and not really indicative of the kind of relationship I want to have with the Lord of my life. So I began writing my prayers. Sometimes I write them and then read them aloud. Sometimes I just write them. So I spent some time yesterday reading the letters I'd written, and it was a pretty illuminating experience. Here are some things I learned, both about myself and about prayer in general.

My prayers have grown up. At first, there are a lot of "make me happy and help me to live with these people who are in my family" kind of prayers. Then there are the "what are You thinking having that person in missions work?" kind of prayers. As the book progresses, the prayers are less and less about situations and people, and more and more about the love and desire I have for Christ. Fewer and fewer specific situations are mentioned--help me with that person, Lord, because they are driving me NUTS--and the focus of the prayers becomes more and more about Him.

My prayers have become very, very Scripture focused. When I feel weak and pitiful and don't know what to say, God's word ALWAYS has the right words. And I truly believe that there is a great deal of power to be found in speaking God's words back to Him. Some of my favorite prayers in the book are passages that I've rewritten for my situation. There is comfort in writing, "But now God, Creator of Heaven and Earth, the One who formed me, says, 'Kellye, do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you. I am the One who called you by name. Kellye, you belong to me! When you pass through the snow, I am right there with you. As you wade through language study, I am there, too. When things are at their most difficult, when it seems that all around you is fire--you will be safe. You will walk right through the hard times without being scorched, because I am with you. I am the LORD your God, He who saved you. You are precious to me, and I honor and love you. Refuse to be afraid, because I am with you in Moscow, just as I was with you in Richmond, and just as I was with you in Middleburg. No matter where you are, I am with you, and I call you by name. You, Kellye, I have formed and made for My glory, and I am always with you, even to the farthest reaches of the earth.'" (Isaiah 43:1-7, November 3, 2007) Who can feel weak and alone when the God of the Universe calls your name?

The really important part of prayer is listening. I have never spent as much time listening for what God is saying to me as I have in the last two years. I have learned the importance of asking a question and then shutting my trap. I don't ask over and over and over anymore. God knows. He knows when I am anxious. He knows what I need to know and when I need to know it. And so instead of asking the same thing again and again, I listen and then record what I believe He is saying.

He has been beyond faithful to me. There are hundreds and hundreds of prayers in that book, and when I read them, I am overwhelmed by God's goodness and faithfulness. And it's not so much His faithfulness in things or situations or people, though He's certainly faithful in those things. It's His faithfulness to show me more of Himself, to walk closely with me, to be my constant companion. It's His faithfulness to show me what He wants for me. It's His faithfulness in the big and the seemingly tiny aspects of my life. Oh, my friends--He is faithful and true. I will declare it with my last breath. He is faithful and true.

So it's time to start a new notebook. In it, I will record more prayers to my Maker. And I will record the ways in which He responds to those prayers. But I know that no matter what the future holds, when I finish that notebook and look back through it, I will see once again the goodness of the Lord. That is an immeasurable gift, I think. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you have recorded somewhere the ways in which God has been true and faithful in your life, and that you enjoyed a Weight Watchers chocolate smoothie after your workout this morning, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Saying yes to whatever He has

2009-05-31T21:46:00.000-07:00

Sarah Beth and the boys at graduation. She loves these guys...and so do we!
Sarah Beth and the girls--Amanda and Tina. Great friends who have made this a great year.
Hannah and her friend, Amielle. These two love each other so much!
Me and my Rebecca at graduation. Beck was the valedictorian...we are all so proud of her and ALL the graduates at HCA.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken. On God my salvation and my glory rest; the rock of my strength, my refuge is in God. Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us. Psalm 62:5-8

I don't know what it's like where you are, but it is a gorgeous morning in Moscow. Sunshine, blue skies...the sound of dump trucks below my kitchen window...it's all filling my soul with happiness. Okay, maybe not the dump trucks, but the rest is definitely good. It's been quite a week. Finals all week, awards and graduation on Friday, a farewell picnic and talent show on Saturday...it makes me tired to even write about it! But it was a great week, and now we are focused on getting ourselves ready for our move to Prague at the end of this month. In there, we also have a week in Greece, so we really only have three weeks to get ourselves ready. This morning, that doesn't feel like a lot of time.

If you pay attention to what is going on in Southern Baptist life at all, you are aware that the IMB has drastically cut appointments for the rest of this year and next year. Unfortunately, that means a lot of uncertainty has just entered our lives. How will this impact us? What will our next step look like, if we aren't appointed? Where do we go from here? It's enough to keep a worrier like me up at night, but I'm sleeping pretty well. You know why? Because God knew. He knew this was going to happen. He knows the next step. He knows what our year in Prague will be like. He knows the ups and downs, the uncertainties and certainties that we are facing. And He has it all under control. That doesn't mean we aren't thinking about it and wondering what the future holds. But it does mean that we aren't worrying about it. He'll make our path clear, and whatever it is, He'll provide for us what we have to have to take the next step. We love our life in Europe, but if the States is where He wants us next, then we'll happily go there. We aren't shaken, because He is unshakeable. So we pack, and we sell, and we pray that He will find us faithful no matter where He sends us next.

Well, speaking of packing--I must get moving in that direction. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are standing firm in the One who holds the world in His mighty right hand, and that you are looking forward to dinner with the girls tomorrow night, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,

Kellye