"It was a startling revelation in my own life when the Holy Spirit showed me that I had become more preoccupied with the work of the ministry than with the One who called me to it. Busyness in serving Christ can block intimacy with Him...resting in Christ is the sole responsibility of the Christian. Everything else flows out of that." Grace Walk by Steve McVey
I am one of those people who is a real combination of both parents. For example, Sarah Beth is very much like me in personality, John-John is Marc's mini-me, and Hannah has definite characteristics of us both. I evidently look just like my mother (I honestly don't see it, but I'll take the compliment), but I also have some of her personality traits. As I have gotten older, I also see more and more of my Daddy in me. I definitely see him in my type A side, and he is there in my weepy side, too. (Sorry, Daddy. I just outed you as a weeper.) But the one thing I get from both of them is a very strong work ethic. Nothing in my life has made me more who I am than this characteristic--I am a busy, busy bee.
Now, that can be great. Ask any boss I've ever worked for, and he or she will tell you that they didn't have a harder worker on staff than Kellye Hooks. Ask any professor from graduate school who the hardest worker in every class was, and they'll likely say Kellye Hooks. And it wasn't so much a choice--I cannot help myself from giving 100% to everything. That includes church work. I don't believe there would be a pastor I've had in the past twenty years who would call me lazy. They might call me some other things, but not lazy.
But this can also be a great problem, and it's something I've been meaning to write about lately. As I look back over my life, often what I see is not a deep contentment in who I am in Christ, but a really frenzied attempt to make my life meaningful and fulfilling, to somehow insure that what I do counts for God. Then I came here. Know what I can do for God here? Right now--nothing. Learn the language. Take care of my family. For years and years, that simply would not have been enough for me, and it was something I struggled with for a long time when we got here. Then my friend Cathy, who has been here for two years, handed me a book that someone gave her when she got here and struggled. The book, Grace Walk, is about allowing God to live through you. It's about giving up being busy for Him, and instead learning to rest in Him. Now, that might not sound revolutionary to you, but it is to me. I once said something to Cathy about the frustration of not being able to do anything well here, and her response was that God was stripping me of the need to do well and be good at everything. This was echoed in a meeting, when someone I really love and respect told me that her concern for me was the high premium I placed on succeeding at things. Success looks different here. It feels different here. God is definitely stripping me of the part of my personality that needs to feel successful.
Here's the thing--I'm happier than I've ever been. Don't get me wrong--I loved being a teacher and the administration's go-to gal. It was very gratifying. I loved the praise team and the solo work. I loved all of it. It was very satisfying to my ego. But I have never, ever been more fulfilled than I am right now. My ministry circle is very small--it consists of Marc and the kids. But they are who God gave me for this time in my life. Sarah Beth leaves home in three years. I only have three years left to have her in my home. Then it's off to college far away from us, then marriage and children and all of the things she wants out of life. For such a time as this, God has called me here to be this person. And I'm not doing my best to do it well. Instead, I'm learning to rest in the knowledge that I can't do it well, but He can do it for me. I promise this is a thought revolution for me.
Well, I need to run. I'm taking John-John to the grocery store and the big playground across the street this morning. The big boy has put himself to bed for two nights in a row, and there are rewards for this kind of behavior. By the way, in case you're wondering about taking him out to play in the freezing cold--Russians believe in the absolute necessity of taking kids outside for fresh air (kind of an oxymoron in Moscow, where pollution is such a problem), and they do so until it reaches about -20 F. No kidding. So, it's practically spring here today, where the high is going to be around 15 F. I pray that wherever you are in the world, whether you are freezing cold in the snow and ice or trying any method necessary to stay cool in the heat (that was for you, Tara), that you are not worrying about being a busy bee this holiday season, but are resting in the One around Whom the season revolves. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Sunday, December 16, 2007
I hope I grow up to be as cool as my children
And the wolf will dwell with the lamb, and the leopard will lie down with the young goat, and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little boy will lead them. Isaiah 11:6
Yesterday, we went ice skating at Gorky Park, the same Gorky Park made famous by the 1980's thriller of the same name. They flood the sidewalks in winter, and you can literally skate all over the park. It was a fun (though very, very cold) day, and as I watched my children, I got to thinking of the ways I want to be like them when I grow up.
Ways I want to be like Sarah Beth:
Well, it's time to make our traditional Sunday brunch. I hope this Sabbath finds you loving your children and being thankful for them. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Yesterday, we went ice skating at Gorky Park, the same Gorky Park made famous by the 1980's thriller of the same name. They flood the sidewalks in winter, and you can literally skate all over the park. It was a fun (though very, very cold) day, and as I watched my children, I got to thinking of the ways I want to be like them when I grow up.
Ways I want to be like Sarah Beth:
- I want to be as compassionate for the wounded of the world. Sarah Beth loves babies and old folks, and she can be moved to tears by the plight of those around her.
- I want to be loyal like Sarah Beth. If you are her true friend, she will walk through the fires of hell to help you or to defend you. I am proud of the kind of friend S.B. is.
- I want to be a person who never sees value in the outside of a person--always the inside. S.B. cares not at all for what others think of the people she loves. You might be the most popular person, or you might be the outsider. It doesn't matter--she's going to love you no matter what.
- I want to have self-esteem like she has. She is not arrogant, but S.B. has a clear idea of how she wants to be treated (esp. by boys), and she does not settle for less than that.
- I want to giggle at the world like Hannah does. Sometimes, Hannah will just laugh because something is funny to her in her head. Suddenly, the rest of us find ourselves giggling right along--not because we think it's funny, but because she thinks it's funny.
- I want to be as honest as Hannah. Hannah does not pull punches about what the truth is as she sees it.
- I want to be as innocent as Hannah. Hannah looks likes she's 13 (a great cause of distress for her father), but at 10, she is definitely a little girl. She still wants baby dolls and barbies for Christmas--and we couldn't be happier about that.
- I want long-term friendships like Hannah. Hannah has had the same best friend since she was four. They are caring to one another, and Han often prays for Kelly. There are many other friends in Han's life, but she and Kelly will be friends for the rest of their lives. They love each other in a way that most children don't love each other. I am proud of her friendship with Kelly.
- I want to be fearless like John-John. He never once cried about falling on the ice, and while everyone else cautiously teetered and tottered on their blades, John-John ran full strength everywhere he went, knowing he would fall down and not caring.
- I want to love all God's creatures like John-John. If you know John, you know he loves and adores God's "little guys," his name for all animals. I can hardly wait to surprise him this week with a trip to the Moscow zoo.
- I want to have John's appreciation for the value of falling down. John realizes, better than anyone I know, that you cannot learn to successfully navigate the icy paths without embracing the idea that you will fall. He doesn't worry about what others think as he falls. He just falls, laughs it off, and gets right back up to run at life. I am starting to learn the value of the days I fall down by watching John.
- I want to have a clear sense of who God is like John. John-John understands why we're here. In a particularly dark moment this week, someone said, "Why did we even come here?" In his six-year-old way, John responded, "Because God told us to." I think that's probably the only answer to that question that doesn't have us packing our bags to come home some days. God told us to. That's pretty simple.
Well, it's time to make our traditional Sunday brunch. I hope this Sabbath finds you loving your children and being thankful for them. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Thursday, December 13, 2007
If He's renewing my youth like the eagle, why do I have all this gray hair?
Bless the LORD, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name. Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget none of His benefits; who pardons all your iniquities, who heals all your diseases; who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with lovingkindness and compassion; who satisfies your years with good things, so that your youth is renewed like the eagle. Psalm 103:105
Lest you think that every day I grow more and more like Doris Day, that I am somehow morphing into June Cleaver and vacuuming in my high heels, I thought you'd enjoy my harrowing tale of yesterday.
It all began with toilet paper. We didn't have any. Okay, we had a little, but it's what we call the "emergency toilet paper," because if you draw a line down the middle of it, it is about the consistency of a kindergartner's writing tablet. No one in the house will survive for long with just the emergency toilet paper, so I had to strike out for the store early. We decided to let the kids sleep late and watch a little tv, because my sister has purchased for us a wonderful thing called a sling box, which allows us to watch her tv over our internet. It's something we first heard about at ILC, because lots and lots of missionaries are getting them. She's installing a dvr this weekend, so we can tape whatever we want. So, when my kids get up, they can watch Disney channel shows they love and give me a little peace before school. (I am not going to win mother of the year for the last sentence, but I'm past the point of worrying about that.) So I didn't get home until 10 from walking to the store, and the kids had not had breakfast, because Marc was in his language lesson. So after feeding them something, I realized it was too late to give John the medication he takes for ADHD. This always makes for a long day. Really, really long. I love him, but even medicated he's a handful. Without medication, he can be disastrous. So it all started with toilet paper.
I never got things together enough to really do a good day of school. It was spotty at best. I ran back and forth between the kitchen, where Hannah was working on math and getting ready for a history test, and the kids' room, where John was setting up empty bottles like bowling pins and teaching his stuffed animals how to subtract. Sarah Beth was in our room, reading about Robert E. Lee (who is beyond fascinating, by the way) and getting ready for a math and science test today. But between all of that, trying to look over my homework one last time before my lesson started, and getting lunch prepared for everyone...it was not my best home school day. So now, I'm not going to win mother of the year or home school teacher of the year. And to think that I spent all that money on formal gowns for the ceremonies!
My lesson went pretty well. Irina and I laughed our way (as usual) through the lesson. When she left, I did some research on a home school curriculum I'm really interested in, and started dinner. Then it all went downhill. John decided it would be fun to absolutely terrorize his sisters by acting like a dog. And not even a nice dog, but a biting dog. From there, it went to dinner, where John continued to act like a dog until he realized it was his favorite meal, and I wasn't going to give him any if he didn't quit the dog act. Then we put him in the bathtub, but the girls got into a fight. Then the straw that broke the camel's back--the cookies.
I don't want to brag, but I really make a great cookie. It's one of my strengths, and I've even kind of figured it out here, where the flour is different. So when the first grade teacher asked me to bring cookies to the Christmas party today (they invited John as a class...wasn't that great?), I was thrilled. Here is something I can do and do well. I decided to make sugar cookies, because John doesn't eat chocolate, and that way there are cookies there for him if everyone else brings something chocolate. Marc came in and I snapped at him. I don't even remember about what. When he asked me what was wrong, I collapsed in a sobbing heap. I didn't get to bring my cookie cutters. My Christmas cookies don't look like Christmas cookies. They look like little round circles. That's not Christmas-y. From there, it went downhill again. Suddenly, Christmas should be canceled because we simply couldn't have Christmas without my cookie cutters. And I can't make Christmas punch, which my children have had every single Christmas mornings of their lives, because they don't have the stuff here for it. And I can't make sausage balls for Christmas eve, because I don't know what sausage looks like here. You get the idea. Then it really went further downhill. When Marc wanted to know what was really wrong, the sobbing reply was that I missed my Mama and Daddy. I missed my church. I missed singing in the choir. I missed my best friends, who live thousands of miles from me now. How can I possibly do Christmas when I miss so much? How can we have Christmas without lunch at Gigi and Raleigh's? Then we had trouble getting John to sleep because he kept hitting against the wall, so I pulled the bed away from the wall. What I didn't know was that one of the legs was loose, so when I moved it, the legs fell off. You can imagine the gales of sobbing that brought on. Thankfully, we got John to sleep, and I went to bed myself, and I have to say that this morning, I feel better, though my eyes are puffy from all that crying.
So not every day is good. Not every day is even okay. But we are not alone. Even without my cookie cutters, Christmas will come. And like the Who's down in Whoville, we will gather around our Christmas tree and sing a song, welcoming the newborn Savior once again to a planet longing for His arrival. It will not be the same as always, because it can't be...but we will make new traditions in our new home, and God will show us the faithfulness, lovingkindness, and mercy that He always does. I pray that your family, no matter its circumstances, looks forward to heralding Christ's birth with us, wherever you happen to be on the globe. But let's agree to sing something normal, like "Silent Night," and not that weird song the Who's sing. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Lest you think that every day I grow more and more like Doris Day, that I am somehow morphing into June Cleaver and vacuuming in my high heels, I thought you'd enjoy my harrowing tale of yesterday.
It all began with toilet paper. We didn't have any. Okay, we had a little, but it's what we call the "emergency toilet paper," because if you draw a line down the middle of it, it is about the consistency of a kindergartner's writing tablet. No one in the house will survive for long with just the emergency toilet paper, so I had to strike out for the store early. We decided to let the kids sleep late and watch a little tv, because my sister has purchased for us a wonderful thing called a sling box, which allows us to watch her tv over our internet. It's something we first heard about at ILC, because lots and lots of missionaries are getting them. She's installing a dvr this weekend, so we can tape whatever we want. So, when my kids get up, they can watch Disney channel shows they love and give me a little peace before school. (I am not going to win mother of the year for the last sentence, but I'm past the point of worrying about that.) So I didn't get home until 10 from walking to the store, and the kids had not had breakfast, because Marc was in his language lesson. So after feeding them something, I realized it was too late to give John the medication he takes for ADHD. This always makes for a long day. Really, really long. I love him, but even medicated he's a handful. Without medication, he can be disastrous. So it all started with toilet paper.
I never got things together enough to really do a good day of school. It was spotty at best. I ran back and forth between the kitchen, where Hannah was working on math and getting ready for a history test, and the kids' room, where John was setting up empty bottles like bowling pins and teaching his stuffed animals how to subtract. Sarah Beth was in our room, reading about Robert E. Lee (who is beyond fascinating, by the way) and getting ready for a math and science test today. But between all of that, trying to look over my homework one last time before my lesson started, and getting lunch prepared for everyone...it was not my best home school day. So now, I'm not going to win mother of the year or home school teacher of the year. And to think that I spent all that money on formal gowns for the ceremonies!
My lesson went pretty well. Irina and I laughed our way (as usual) through the lesson. When she left, I did some research on a home school curriculum I'm really interested in, and started dinner. Then it all went downhill. John decided it would be fun to absolutely terrorize his sisters by acting like a dog. And not even a nice dog, but a biting dog. From there, it went to dinner, where John continued to act like a dog until he realized it was his favorite meal, and I wasn't going to give him any if he didn't quit the dog act. Then we put him in the bathtub, but the girls got into a fight. Then the straw that broke the camel's back--the cookies.
I don't want to brag, but I really make a great cookie. It's one of my strengths, and I've even kind of figured it out here, where the flour is different. So when the first grade teacher asked me to bring cookies to the Christmas party today (they invited John as a class...wasn't that great?), I was thrilled. Here is something I can do and do well. I decided to make sugar cookies, because John doesn't eat chocolate, and that way there are cookies there for him if everyone else brings something chocolate. Marc came in and I snapped at him. I don't even remember about what. When he asked me what was wrong, I collapsed in a sobbing heap. I didn't get to bring my cookie cutters. My Christmas cookies don't look like Christmas cookies. They look like little round circles. That's not Christmas-y. From there, it went downhill again. Suddenly, Christmas should be canceled because we simply couldn't have Christmas without my cookie cutters. And I can't make Christmas punch, which my children have had every single Christmas mornings of their lives, because they don't have the stuff here for it. And I can't make sausage balls for Christmas eve, because I don't know what sausage looks like here. You get the idea. Then it really went further downhill. When Marc wanted to know what was really wrong, the sobbing reply was that I missed my Mama and Daddy. I missed my church. I missed singing in the choir. I missed my best friends, who live thousands of miles from me now. How can I possibly do Christmas when I miss so much? How can we have Christmas without lunch at Gigi and Raleigh's? Then we had trouble getting John to sleep because he kept hitting against the wall, so I pulled the bed away from the wall. What I didn't know was that one of the legs was loose, so when I moved it, the legs fell off. You can imagine the gales of sobbing that brought on. Thankfully, we got John to sleep, and I went to bed myself, and I have to say that this morning, I feel better, though my eyes are puffy from all that crying.
So not every day is good. Not every day is even okay. But we are not alone. Even without my cookie cutters, Christmas will come. And like the Who's down in Whoville, we will gather around our Christmas tree and sing a song, welcoming the newborn Savior once again to a planet longing for His arrival. It will not be the same as always, because it can't be...but we will make new traditions in our new home, and God will show us the faithfulness, lovingkindness, and mercy that He always does. I pray that your family, no matter its circumstances, looks forward to heralding Christ's birth with us, wherever you happen to be on the globe. But let's agree to sing something normal, like "Silent Night," and not that weird song the Who's sing. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Me, Sally, and the Whole Peanuts Gang
Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen. Ephesians 3:20-21
All I want is what's coming to me. All I want is my fair share. --Sally, "A Charlie Brown Christmas Special"
One of the great joys of being the youngest child in my family is that I have never known a world without my two sisters. No one in the world (except for Marc, of course) is closer to me than my two sisters, Cathy and Kay, and my parents. They know me better than anyone, and for reasons completely unclear to me, love me just the same. Even at forty, I am still the baby of this family, and I reserve the right at all times to pull the "I'm the baby" card.
Some of my favorite memories of growing up surround Christmastime. And my family loves every Christmas movie or tv special ever made. I promise you that I just made Marc download Earnest Saves Christmas from iTunes. We can't help ourselves. The Lifetime and Hallmark channels are our friends at Christmastime, and there is nothing better than a cup of hot chocolate, a tissue, and a viewing of It's a Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve. So when my family sat down last night to (again) watch A Charlie Brown Christmas Special, I couldn't help but think of my sisters and parents. But even funnier is that my sister, Cathy, who has a really dry sense of humor and surprises us all the time with some funny remark she will make out of the blue, can perfectly mimic Sally saying the "All I want is what's coming to me" line above. So I smiled doubly, thinking of her saying that to us and sending us all into gales of laughter.
It got me to thinking, though, of the many ways in which God has given me so much more than what's coming to me, so far beyond my fair share. And if you'll indulge one more "I am so thankful" blog, I'd like to tell you some of the ways my Father has gone far beyond what I could even dream about for myself.
Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
All I want is what's coming to me. All I want is my fair share. --Sally, "A Charlie Brown Christmas Special"
One of the great joys of being the youngest child in my family is that I have never known a world without my two sisters. No one in the world (except for Marc, of course) is closer to me than my two sisters, Cathy and Kay, and my parents. They know me better than anyone, and for reasons completely unclear to me, love me just the same. Even at forty, I am still the baby of this family, and I reserve the right at all times to pull the "I'm the baby" card.
Some of my favorite memories of growing up surround Christmastime. And my family loves every Christmas movie or tv special ever made. I promise you that I just made Marc download Earnest Saves Christmas from iTunes. We can't help ourselves. The Lifetime and Hallmark channels are our friends at Christmastime, and there is nothing better than a cup of hot chocolate, a tissue, and a viewing of It's a Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve. So when my family sat down last night to (again) watch A Charlie Brown Christmas Special, I couldn't help but think of my sisters and parents. But even funnier is that my sister, Cathy, who has a really dry sense of humor and surprises us all the time with some funny remark she will make out of the blue, can perfectly mimic Sally saying the "All I want is what's coming to me" line above. So I smiled doubly, thinking of her saying that to us and sending us all into gales of laughter.
It got me to thinking, though, of the many ways in which God has given me so much more than what's coming to me, so far beyond my fair share. And if you'll indulge one more "I am so thankful" blog, I'd like to tell you some of the ways my Father has gone far beyond what I could even dream about for myself.
- I've already mentioned my parents and sisters. Can I just say one more time how absolutely, head-over-heels in love with them I am? There are people I know who have no relationship at all with their siblings, and it just bewilders me. I cannot contemplate my life without growing up in this tremendous family. They call, they write, they send packages, they make me laugh, they make me cry, they miss me as much as I miss them, they never, even on the darkest days, let me contemplate coming home...they are far beyond what any one person has the right to expect in a family.
- My extended family is just as wonderful. My Aunt Angie is one of my best friends. I cannot tell you the ways in which she and Raleigh have blessed my life and the lives of my children. I have a huge Southern family, and growing up was just a wonderful adventure. I spent many, many weeks in Tennessee, where both sides of my extended family live, and it was just idyllic. I have many, many cousins, all of whom I adore. Both sides of my extended family have been so supportive of this move in our life, and after hearing stories of those whose families weren't all for the missionary life for their children, I appreciate so much the cards, the emails, the calls from my wonderful, giant extended family.
- My husband is just this amazing person. He loves me even when I am not lovable at all. He treats me like a queen. He challenges me to be the person God made me to be. He does not care that I don't shave my legs every day in the winter. Or every week. (What? It's cold here.) He thanks me for dinner each night. He is fun. He helps around the house. He is God's guy for me, no question, no doubt. I knew after our first date that I was going to marry him, and I have always been glad that I was right about that. Best of all--he loves God more than he loves me. I couldn't ask for a better husband.
- My three children are turning out to be wonderful people. Sarah Beth is fifteen, and when I get glimpses of the woman she will some day be, I am astonished. She is turning into this fabulous person, who cares about others, who is very nurturing and mature, but who is also silly and innocent. Oh, my goodness...God has gifted her in so many ways. Hannah is beautiful inside and out, and though she has had the hardest transition here, there are moments when she is totally unaware of being homesick, when she embraces the person she is here, and she is a total delight. Every day for Hannah gets a little better. And John-John...well, he just makes me smile. He is challenging and difficult, but he is also a great joy to me. When he wraps those skinny little arms around me before he goes to bed and says, "Mom, I love you very much," well...let's just say it makes me happy.
- I have tremendous friends all over the world. They love me and support me and pray for me, and they challenge me...they are the iron sharpening my iron. I can't tell you what they mean to me. I feel completely free and open with them, and so blessed. You know how sometimes you meet someone, and you just know? You know that you'll be friends for life, that you'll share so much, that you'll love each other forever, no matter that you're far away? I have a couple of friends like that, and I just thank God for them every single day.
- I am settling into my life here. I am becoming comfortable with being something different than I've been before. I am starting to really enjoy homeschooling. I am beginning to feel like I can manage my family and keep everything running smoothly for all of us. And here's the biggest blessing of all--I am finding great joy in simply being a support player here. I don't feel particularly stressed out, even though it's Christmas. I don't feel like I don't have enough time to get things done. I feel like I can sit and read aloud to my kids, or dance to Hannah Montana, or watch whatever John-John is wanting me to "look and see, Mom," because I don't have to go grade papers or prepare for the next day. I plan lessons on weekends for the whole week for the kids. I am having a lot of fun doing that. Two months ago, I promise you I didn't think I could home school my children. And now the thought of not home schooling them is a little distressing to me. (by the way--if you're a home schooler who reads this, I'd love to hear about what curriculum you're using and any suggestions you might make for next year. I am particularly interested in Tapestry of Grace users and Sonlight.)
Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Monday, December 10, 2007
When life gives you lemons...
"Circumstances are to be like mattresses...we're to be on top of them, not under them." C. Alan Floyd
I haven't blogged in a while for a very good reason--we were without electricity! Luckily, in Russia neither our heat nor our hot water are electrically driven, but that's about all we had. Thank heavens, this afternoon the power was restored, after some haggling between the city of Moscow and the Pushkin Institute, where our building is located. I have never been so glad to see the lights come on in my life. It was especially bad Friday night, only because our friend Andy, from Novosibirsk, Siberia, was in town and coming to dinner. We ended up going to Pizza Hut, having a great time, and then coming back for Andy and Marc to work in the dark on their computers. To keep the kids occupied, I watched Muppet Christmas Carol with them on our little dvd player, and we roasted marshmallows over a candle. I've heard the old saying, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade," but I can honestly say I've never heard, "If Russia takes away your electricity, roast marshmallows over a candle." Do you think it'll be the next big, popular saying?
On Sunday, we took a team of volunteers from the states around Moscow and to our church. It was our first assignment that wasn't "learn the language," and all-in-all, I think it went pretty well. I was able to help one of the older gentlemen negotiate the price he wanted. The salesman asked if I wanted commission, too. It was fun. The only thing we bought was an Oklahoma Sooner matrushka doll. The Gators set had Leak as quarterback, but I'm promised that after Christmas, the new one with Tebow's name on the jersey will be ready to pick up.
And speaking of Tim Tebow...what a great thing that he won the Heisman. I am especially proud for his parents, brothers and sisters. What a wonderful family, and what a great example to the rest of us of what a great Christian family can be.
On Saturday, I took my first excursion on my own...to the center of the city and a wonderful bookstore named Biblio-Globus. I was able to find it easily, and even gave directions to a lady coming off of the metro looking for it. (Yes, I gave the directions in Russian!) More and more, I find that I think both in Russian and in English. It doesn't necessarily come easily to me, but I can definitely tell that the hard work in my lessons is starting to really pay off.
Well, this wasn't particularly profound, but that's all the news from here. We did get our first Christmas cards today, from my nieces Katie and Amy. It was so wonderful! We look in our mail box every day, hoping and praying for something from home, and it's usually empty. What fun it was to find two cards in there today!!! We also had communion at church for the first time last night, and it was really nice. We sang "How Great Thou Art," and I cried through the whole thing. Just to stand in Moscow, Russia, in the midst of this great city and even greater thing that God is doing in my life...He is great. But to be able to sing it in Russian...beyond words for me. And to be able to sing the chorus with my eyes closed in prayer...well, let's just say that God is good...all the time. Today, I was frustrated in my lesson with verbs of motion, and Irina flipped through hundreds of pages of the textbook. "Look how much you already know, Kellye," she said. And all I could think as I looked at all those pages was how big the God I serve really is.
Can't you see His "big-ness" all around? I hope you are daily looking at the big ways He is at work in your life, too. And I hope none of them include getting your electricity turned back on! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
I haven't blogged in a while for a very good reason--we were without electricity! Luckily, in Russia neither our heat nor our hot water are electrically driven, but that's about all we had. Thank heavens, this afternoon the power was restored, after some haggling between the city of Moscow and the Pushkin Institute, where our building is located. I have never been so glad to see the lights come on in my life. It was especially bad Friday night, only because our friend Andy, from Novosibirsk, Siberia, was in town and coming to dinner. We ended up going to Pizza Hut, having a great time, and then coming back for Andy and Marc to work in the dark on their computers. To keep the kids occupied, I watched Muppet Christmas Carol with them on our little dvd player, and we roasted marshmallows over a candle. I've heard the old saying, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade," but I can honestly say I've never heard, "If Russia takes away your electricity, roast marshmallows over a candle." Do you think it'll be the next big, popular saying?
On Sunday, we took a team of volunteers from the states around Moscow and to our church. It was our first assignment that wasn't "learn the language," and all-in-all, I think it went pretty well. I was able to help one of the older gentlemen negotiate the price he wanted. The salesman asked if I wanted commission, too. It was fun. The only thing we bought was an Oklahoma Sooner matrushka doll. The Gators set had Leak as quarterback, but I'm promised that after Christmas, the new one with Tebow's name on the jersey will be ready to pick up.
And speaking of Tim Tebow...what a great thing that he won the Heisman. I am especially proud for his parents, brothers and sisters. What a wonderful family, and what a great example to the rest of us of what a great Christian family can be.
On Saturday, I took my first excursion on my own...to the center of the city and a wonderful bookstore named Biblio-Globus. I was able to find it easily, and even gave directions to a lady coming off of the metro looking for it. (Yes, I gave the directions in Russian!) More and more, I find that I think both in Russian and in English. It doesn't necessarily come easily to me, but I can definitely tell that the hard work in my lessons is starting to really pay off.
Well, this wasn't particularly profound, but that's all the news from here. We did get our first Christmas cards today, from my nieces Katie and Amy. It was so wonderful! We look in our mail box every day, hoping and praying for something from home, and it's usually empty. What fun it was to find two cards in there today!!! We also had communion at church for the first time last night, and it was really nice. We sang "How Great Thou Art," and I cried through the whole thing. Just to stand in Moscow, Russia, in the midst of this great city and even greater thing that God is doing in my life...He is great. But to be able to sing it in Russian...beyond words for me. And to be able to sing the chorus with my eyes closed in prayer...well, let's just say that God is good...all the time. Today, I was frustrated in my lesson with verbs of motion, and Irina flipped through hundreds of pages of the textbook. "Look how much you already know, Kellye," she said. And all I could think as I looked at all those pages was how big the God I serve really is.
Can't you see His "big-ness" all around? I hope you are daily looking at the big ways He is at work in your life, too. And I hope none of them include getting your electricity turned back on! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Praise to the Lord, the Almighty
It was an ordinary night here tonight—chili for dinner, listing our best part of the day at the dinner table, dishes and singing while the rest of the family did their thing after dinner. After I finished the dishes, I turned off the lights, gazed at the city’s skyline, and listened to my favorite tunes. Tonight, it was “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” and “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty.” It occurred to me as I sang along and worshiped that the verses of that song make an appropriate theme song for our experience here. So if you’ll forgive me for once again talking about songs I love and why they’re meaningful to me, here’s why I am so in love with this song right now.
• Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of Creation./ Oh my soul praise Him for He is thy health and salvation./ All ye who hear, now to His temple draw near./ Join me in glad adoration.
My life here, more than anything else I have ever experienced, has taught me that Christ is my health and salvation. Yes, He saved my soul by dying on the cross for me, but He also saved me from what my life might have been without Him. My life here isn’t easy, and nothing that happens is a snap. It’s always hard. But He is with me. He helps me. He saves me from myself many days. (He saves my family from myself many days!) I cannot help but be in “glad adoration” of a God who is so constantly at work around me in a thousand different ways. On this blog, I hope that I inspire you to join me in that glad adoration.
• Praise to the Lord, who o’er all things so wonderfully reigneth/ Shelters thee under His wings, yes, so gently sustaineth/ Hast thou not seen how all thy longings have been/Granted in what He ordaineth?
When I first arrived here, one of the things that was hard for me was that I felt like I had worked so hard to get here, only to find that the hard part was only beginning. But what I’ve come to understand is that the longings of my heart to be here, to serve Him as an international missionary, were all in His plan from the beginning. He knew everything that would happen here—nothing has surprised Him. And in every single thing, He is giving me the greatest desire of my heart, which is to be totally and completely His. Sometimes that’s a painful process, but I’m coming, little by little, to appreciate and take joy in the ways in which He is making me a new person completely. All of the old stuff that troubled me for much of my adult life is gone—stripped away because it couldn’t be a part of my life here if we were to last on the field. When He says He is faithful to complete the good work He has started, I know He is telling the truth, because every day I see Him working toward completing that good work. I know it won’t ever be done—I won’t ever be at the point where He says He’s done with me—but I like the me He is turning me into a whole lot better than the old me. He "wonderfully reigneth" over every single thing in my life—and I daily reap the benefits of that reign.
• Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy work and defend thee/Surely His goodness and mercy here daily attend thee/ Ponder anew what the Almighty can do/If with His love He befriend thee.
I can easily see the ways He is prospering our work. Our work right now consists entirely of learning the language and learning how to live this life that is so different from the life we left behind in the states. If you could hear us speak Russian, I think you would be shocked at what we can do with only six weeks of training. Now, we have a long way to go, and I often have to stop and really think my way through the grammar of what I am saying, because it is totally and completely different from English, but we can go out on the street and communicate with people pretty well. That is clearly the result of the prayers of the faithful who are lifting us up, because language study is a nightmare for all international missionaries. Imagine being pretty smart, accomplished folks and suddenly finding yourself with the communication skills of a two-year-old. And yet, we have not only done well in language study, we’ve enjoyed it. Every single day we are here, we are away of his goodness and mercy daily attending us. Every single day. I have come to an understanding of the kind of prayer that is constant. I felt sick to my stomach on the way to the metro yesterday, knowing I was facing at least another 2 miles of walking and three metro stops before I could get to a bathroom. I prayed about it. I felt better. I think I’ve lived a lot of my life where I felt like God was too busy or too big for the little details of my life. But as I grow closer and closer to Him, I know that He wants to be a part of everything I do. I pray over the kids schoolwork daily, that it will go well, that they will understand it, that I will teach it well. And every day I fall more in love with being my children’s teacher. Can you see, beloved friends, how he is daily attending me here? It is good to be befriended by the love of the Creator of the Universe.
• Praise to the Lord, O let all that is in me adore Him/ All that has life and breath, come now with praises before Him/ Let the Amen! sound from His people again/ Gladly forever adore Him!
When I listened to this verse last night, there was simply nothing to do but raise my hands to the God of Everything. He is amazing. Two months ago, I could not see a way we could survive here. There wasn’t a single thing keeping us here except for this: God called. We knew Him to be faithful. We decided (and I mean we consciously decided as a family) that we were going to trust Him. Ask my parents and sisters—every time they talked to me, I sounded worse and worse. Frankly, I was headed into a depression that could have swept us right off the field. But face down on my apartment floor I cried out to Him with the groans of pain and suffering too strong for mere words. And you know what happened? He showed up. He was here all the time, just waiting for me to realize that He is absolutely all I need ever. I don’t need to be strong—I need to be full of Him. I don’t need to be wise—I need to be open to the voice of His wisdom. I don’t need to be wealthy—He owns the cattle on a thousand hills, and He’ll sell one off if we need him to. (That's an Alan Floyd-ism. I want to give credit where credit is due.) He is Everything I need. Everything. How can I not shout “Amen!” to that? Every day, I settle a little more into this new life that He’s given me. It turns out that I, who have worked outside my home my whole adult life, love being a housewife. I love teaching my children. I love taking care of my family, of making things possible for them. Who knew? God knew. He knew what would happen here. He knew the good, the bad, and the ugly…and He called us to this life knowing all of that. Don’t get me wrong—there are days that are so hard still, and I am so homesick that I just want to hit my head on the table and cry. But in everything around me, I am able to see Him, to see His hand at work. What a privilege. What an honor to serve the King of Kings.
I love you all. How wonderful it is to know that I have friends all over the world who read this blog and lift us up in prayer. He is faithful to listen and to move His mighty hand. Look around you, at the blessings of the life where you are, and know that just as He is at work here, He is at work there. Raise your hands with me, as we declare together Amen! Amen! Amen!
Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
• Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of Creation./ Oh my soul praise Him for He is thy health and salvation./ All ye who hear, now to His temple draw near./ Join me in glad adoration.
My life here, more than anything else I have ever experienced, has taught me that Christ is my health and salvation. Yes, He saved my soul by dying on the cross for me, but He also saved me from what my life might have been without Him. My life here isn’t easy, and nothing that happens is a snap. It’s always hard. But He is with me. He helps me. He saves me from myself many days. (He saves my family from myself many days!) I cannot help but be in “glad adoration” of a God who is so constantly at work around me in a thousand different ways. On this blog, I hope that I inspire you to join me in that glad adoration.
• Praise to the Lord, who o’er all things so wonderfully reigneth/ Shelters thee under His wings, yes, so gently sustaineth/ Hast thou not seen how all thy longings have been/Granted in what He ordaineth?
When I first arrived here, one of the things that was hard for me was that I felt like I had worked so hard to get here, only to find that the hard part was only beginning. But what I’ve come to understand is that the longings of my heart to be here, to serve Him as an international missionary, were all in His plan from the beginning. He knew everything that would happen here—nothing has surprised Him. And in every single thing, He is giving me the greatest desire of my heart, which is to be totally and completely His. Sometimes that’s a painful process, but I’m coming, little by little, to appreciate and take joy in the ways in which He is making me a new person completely. All of the old stuff that troubled me for much of my adult life is gone—stripped away because it couldn’t be a part of my life here if we were to last on the field. When He says He is faithful to complete the good work He has started, I know He is telling the truth, because every day I see Him working toward completing that good work. I know it won’t ever be done—I won’t ever be at the point where He says He’s done with me—but I like the me He is turning me into a whole lot better than the old me. He "wonderfully reigneth" over every single thing in my life—and I daily reap the benefits of that reign.
• Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy work and defend thee/Surely His goodness and mercy here daily attend thee/ Ponder anew what the Almighty can do/If with His love He befriend thee.
I can easily see the ways He is prospering our work. Our work right now consists entirely of learning the language and learning how to live this life that is so different from the life we left behind in the states. If you could hear us speak Russian, I think you would be shocked at what we can do with only six weeks of training. Now, we have a long way to go, and I often have to stop and really think my way through the grammar of what I am saying, because it is totally and completely different from English, but we can go out on the street and communicate with people pretty well. That is clearly the result of the prayers of the faithful who are lifting us up, because language study is a nightmare for all international missionaries. Imagine being pretty smart, accomplished folks and suddenly finding yourself with the communication skills of a two-year-old. And yet, we have not only done well in language study, we’ve enjoyed it. Every single day we are here, we are away of his goodness and mercy daily attending us. Every single day. I have come to an understanding of the kind of prayer that is constant. I felt sick to my stomach on the way to the metro yesterday, knowing I was facing at least another 2 miles of walking and three metro stops before I could get to a bathroom. I prayed about it. I felt better. I think I’ve lived a lot of my life where I felt like God was too busy or too big for the little details of my life. But as I grow closer and closer to Him, I know that He wants to be a part of everything I do. I pray over the kids schoolwork daily, that it will go well, that they will understand it, that I will teach it well. And every day I fall more in love with being my children’s teacher. Can you see, beloved friends, how he is daily attending me here? It is good to be befriended by the love of the Creator of the Universe.
• Praise to the Lord, O let all that is in me adore Him/ All that has life and breath, come now with praises before Him/ Let the Amen! sound from His people again/ Gladly forever adore Him!
When I listened to this verse last night, there was simply nothing to do but raise my hands to the God of Everything. He is amazing. Two months ago, I could not see a way we could survive here. There wasn’t a single thing keeping us here except for this: God called. We knew Him to be faithful. We decided (and I mean we consciously decided as a family) that we were going to trust Him. Ask my parents and sisters—every time they talked to me, I sounded worse and worse. Frankly, I was headed into a depression that could have swept us right off the field. But face down on my apartment floor I cried out to Him with the groans of pain and suffering too strong for mere words. And you know what happened? He showed up. He was here all the time, just waiting for me to realize that He is absolutely all I need ever. I don’t need to be strong—I need to be full of Him. I don’t need to be wise—I need to be open to the voice of His wisdom. I don’t need to be wealthy—He owns the cattle on a thousand hills, and He’ll sell one off if we need him to. (That's an Alan Floyd-ism. I want to give credit where credit is due.) He is Everything I need. Everything. How can I not shout “Amen!” to that? Every day, I settle a little more into this new life that He’s given me. It turns out that I, who have worked outside my home my whole adult life, love being a housewife. I love teaching my children. I love taking care of my family, of making things possible for them. Who knew? God knew. He knew what would happen here. He knew the good, the bad, and the ugly…and He called us to this life knowing all of that. Don’t get me wrong—there are days that are so hard still, and I am so homesick that I just want to hit my head on the table and cry. But in everything around me, I am able to see Him, to see His hand at work. What a privilege. What an honor to serve the King of Kings.
I love you all. How wonderful it is to know that I have friends all over the world who read this blog and lift us up in prayer. He is faithful to listen and to move His mighty hand. Look around you, at the blessings of the life where you are, and know that just as He is at work here, He is at work there. Raise your hands with me, as we declare together Amen! Amen! Amen!
Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Monday, December 3, 2007
Me and the Babushki
Older women likewise are to be reverent in their behavior, not malicious gossips nor enslaved to much wine, teaching what is good, so that they may encourage the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be sensible, pure workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, so that the word of God will not be dishonored. Titus 2:3-5
Titus 2 has a special place in my heart, because I have benefited over the years from the advice and wise counsel of older women. Of course, now I’m in the unenviable position of being one of the older women, but that’s another blog for another time. What is increasingly clear to me lately is that while other women are turning into their mothers, I am actually turning into my grandmothers.
Over the last few weeks, I have had to come to terms with the fact that several of the things I do are definite throw-backs to my grandmothers. Now please understand that many of the things I do are of complete necessity…not because I just love to do things the “old-fashioned way,” but because I can’t always do things the way I would in the States. For instance, they do not sell applesauce here, and so I make applesauce the way my Mimsey did (of course, she called them fried apples, but for our purposes, it’s applesauce). Both of my grandmothers were great cooks, and I often think of them while I’m in the kitchen. One of the things I make fairly often is baking powder biscuits, which greeted me every morning I stayed at my Granny’s house while growing up. I even cut them with a small bottle, because that’s the way she did it. Both of my grandmothers were workers, and I definitely get the “busy bee” gene from both sides of the family. These are all nice things, moments when I recall with great love and affection these two women who had such a profound impact on my life.
Then there was this morning. Things were humming along—Marc was in his lesson, John was finished with his, Hannah was working with me in the kitchen on her math. So I decided I would multitask and get some ironing done. Now, one of the things I was very excited about when I came here was that I had a clothes dryer, which is quite unusual for missionaries in Eastern Europe. However, I have quickly discovered that the dryer is very hard on clothes, and should be avoided for those things that will shrink—jeans, t-shirts, and especially underwear, which is very expensive here, so we don’t want to replace it until necessary. So I hang those things to dry, reserving the dryer for things like towels and socks and pajamas, which don’t cause problems if they shrink. But things that are hung to dry get very, very brittle…seriously—the jeans can stand on their own. So I have taken to ironing most mornings those things that I have hung to dry overnight. No big deal, right? Well, this morning I was ironing the things that had dried overnight when Sarah Beth came into the kitchen and started laughing. And I don’t mean a chuckle…I mean hysterical, fall on the floor kind of laughing. When I asked her what was so funny, she simply pointed to the ironing board. I was ironing Marc’s underwear. In that flash, I saw myself at Hannah’s age, asking my Granny why she ironed Papa’s underwear. It was not a good moment. Not at all. So unlike most women, I’m not turning into my mother, but my grandmothers.
Actually, I could do worse than turning into my grandmothers. Women of faith, both of whom raised families successfully, families they loved…great cooks who valued their time in the kitchen, who had great friends they adored…I could do worse than turning out like Agnes and Pearl. But I’m hoping that I’ll take on their good character traits, and not just the ironing thing. :o)
It’s funny…Sarah Beth asked me the other day why I am always helping the Babushki (grandmothers) on the bus or the metro. My reply was that in every little old lady I see my grandmothers, who lived in a much gentler place than Russia. In every sweet, wrinkled face, I see the precious lines of these faces that have meant so much to who I am. I cannot help myself. And interestingly, the old ladies love me. I often find myself chatting with them on the bus. Of course, it could be that they’re looking at my un-dyed roots and seeing one of their own!
By the way, we received our first packages from the States yesterday. What fun! We had such a ball going through and seeing all the stuff that my parents had sent. The things we were most excited about? Marshmallows and American powdered sugar. Very, very exciting stuff. You know what was really great, though? Seeing my Mama’s handwriting. Okay, it’s Christmas and I miss my Mommy. Give me a break.
Well, I need to run. It’s getting dark, and I’m expecting Marc any second, so I should get dinner going. It’s taco night, in case you’re interested. :o) Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Titus 2 has a special place in my heart, because I have benefited over the years from the advice and wise counsel of older women. Of course, now I’m in the unenviable position of being one of the older women, but that’s another blog for another time. What is increasingly clear to me lately is that while other women are turning into their mothers, I am actually turning into my grandmothers.
Over the last few weeks, I have had to come to terms with the fact that several of the things I do are definite throw-backs to my grandmothers. Now please understand that many of the things I do are of complete necessity…not because I just love to do things the “old-fashioned way,” but because I can’t always do things the way I would in the States. For instance, they do not sell applesauce here, and so I make applesauce the way my Mimsey did (of course, she called them fried apples, but for our purposes, it’s applesauce). Both of my grandmothers were great cooks, and I often think of them while I’m in the kitchen. One of the things I make fairly often is baking powder biscuits, which greeted me every morning I stayed at my Granny’s house while growing up. I even cut them with a small bottle, because that’s the way she did it. Both of my grandmothers were workers, and I definitely get the “busy bee” gene from both sides of the family. These are all nice things, moments when I recall with great love and affection these two women who had such a profound impact on my life.
Then there was this morning. Things were humming along—Marc was in his lesson, John was finished with his, Hannah was working with me in the kitchen on her math. So I decided I would multitask and get some ironing done. Now, one of the things I was very excited about when I came here was that I had a clothes dryer, which is quite unusual for missionaries in Eastern Europe. However, I have quickly discovered that the dryer is very hard on clothes, and should be avoided for those things that will shrink—jeans, t-shirts, and especially underwear, which is very expensive here, so we don’t want to replace it until necessary. So I hang those things to dry, reserving the dryer for things like towels and socks and pajamas, which don’t cause problems if they shrink. But things that are hung to dry get very, very brittle…seriously—the jeans can stand on their own. So I have taken to ironing most mornings those things that I have hung to dry overnight. No big deal, right? Well, this morning I was ironing the things that had dried overnight when Sarah Beth came into the kitchen and started laughing. And I don’t mean a chuckle…I mean hysterical, fall on the floor kind of laughing. When I asked her what was so funny, she simply pointed to the ironing board. I was ironing Marc’s underwear. In that flash, I saw myself at Hannah’s age, asking my Granny why she ironed Papa’s underwear. It was not a good moment. Not at all. So unlike most women, I’m not turning into my mother, but my grandmothers.
Actually, I could do worse than turning into my grandmothers. Women of faith, both of whom raised families successfully, families they loved…great cooks who valued their time in the kitchen, who had great friends they adored…I could do worse than turning out like Agnes and Pearl. But I’m hoping that I’ll take on their good character traits, and not just the ironing thing. :o)
It’s funny…Sarah Beth asked me the other day why I am always helping the Babushki (grandmothers) on the bus or the metro. My reply was that in every little old lady I see my grandmothers, who lived in a much gentler place than Russia. In every sweet, wrinkled face, I see the precious lines of these faces that have meant so much to who I am. I cannot help myself. And interestingly, the old ladies love me. I often find myself chatting with them on the bus. Of course, it could be that they’re looking at my un-dyed roots and seeing one of their own!
By the way, we received our first packages from the States yesterday. What fun! We had such a ball going through and seeing all the stuff that my parents had sent. The things we were most excited about? Marshmallows and American powdered sugar. Very, very exciting stuff. You know what was really great, though? Seeing my Mama’s handwriting. Okay, it’s Christmas and I miss my Mommy. Give me a break.
Well, I need to run. It’s getting dark, and I’m expecting Marc any second, so I should get dinner going. It’s taco night, in case you’re interested. :o) Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
