If I believed in luck, I'd be one lucky woman

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

I don't have much time this morning--Irina will be here in a little over an hour, and I haven't even showered yet--but I wanted to share some things from the last couple of days with you and post some pictures from Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

Yesterday, we attended a party for the whole IMB Moscow mission. What fun! There was Papa John's pizza (yep, he's in Moscow) and lots and lots of desserts. I managed to make peanut butter brownies that were really good. We came home, ate pulled pork for dinner (Marc gave me a crock pot for Christmas--my life has been revolutionized!), and then spent the evening playing games (thank you to Poppy's Thursday morning prayer group, who gave us Christmas money with which we bought family games) and putting puzzles together. Marc's new chair was delivered from IKEA (I'm pretty sure there will be an IKEA in heaven), and we also enjoyed that for a while. Hannah came home from a friend's house about ten, and then we all went to bed not long after. Just a normal day, right? But here's the thing--a normal day is such a blessing. It turns out that normal days might just be God's greatest blessing here. We are making friends, we are having some fun with other people, but most importantly, we are learning to enjoy our time together. Sarah Beth and I spent the evening before watching the DVD of Guys and Dolls that she received for Christmas. It was such fun, and since I'm not going to have her here for that much longer (how is it possible that college is only 2 1/2 years away?), I am eating up having so much time with her. What a blessing.

Tonight, Sarah Beth's pal from St. Petersburg (Russia, not Florida) comes into town, and tomorrow they are leaving for a trip with the other teenagers from our region. Due to security concerns, I won't say where they're going until they're back, but let me assure you that you're going to be jealous. They are all excited, not only to get to go someplace really cool, but also to be together for a few days with their "mission friends" from our region. They are really a special group of teenagers, like the youth group you would pray your kids would be a part of at church. They're amazing. Please pray for their safe travel, meaningful time together, and safe return to their homes.

Well, I'm off to learn a little more of this language. Marc managed to tell the IKEA delivery guys how to get to our house--on the phone and all in Russian. I'm pretty impressed with that. Irina is constantly telling me how perfect his grammar is. Hmmm...I think I'll go study for a few minutes! The pictures are from our Christmas celebration. I love you all, and I hope you're having a wonderful day wherever you are in the world. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye

I am infinitely amazed

Being infinitely amazed, so do I give infinite thanks to God, who has been pleased to make me the first observer of marvelous things, unrevealed to bygone ages. Galileo (on first seeing the sky through a telescope)

Even though I know that, unlike Galileo, I am not the first observer of the marvelous things I am seeing, I am still infinitely amazed at the way the grace of God daily tunes my heart to sing His praise, the way He is ever at work in my life, even in the way I view the holiday season.

To understand how great my Christmas Eve and Christmas were, you must go back to Sunday, which was just awful. Really--I cried on the phone to my sister, Cathy. It was that bad. No one here celebrates Christmas, no one said, "Merry Christmas" to us at church, in fact, no one even said anything to us at church. (Not that different from some Southern Baptist churches in the states, right?) Anyway, it was just terrible. By the time we got home, we were all grumpy. Then we fought. Then we decided we just shouldn't be here. Then we decided we should be here, but we definitely didn't have to like it. You get the picture.

Christmas Eve, we got up (all feeling better after some sleep) and went for breakfast and to Build-a-Bear workshop. Each of the kids got a new animal and an outfit, and we just had a wonderful time. The workers were just as excited as we were, and they even wished us "Merry Christmas" as we went out the door. Then we went to a party at our friends' house with three other families. It was wonderful--great food, sledding for the kids, laughing for the adults, and then a candlelighting service where we sang all the great Christmas carols my soul had really missed. Then it was home to bed for the kids and a night of wrapping gifts for me.

Our kids slept in on Christmas morning (I know--what's the deal with that?), so we didn't start opening gifts until after 9 a.m. But we just kind of meandered through our gifts, letting them play with something if they wanted to, taking a break in the middle for some cinnamon rolls, not feeling like we had to rush in order to get someplace, because we weren't going anywhere. We had wonderful gifts--I'll write about mine later--but more than anything, we had fun together. No fighting, crying, or whining--for the first time in the almost three months we've been here, no one cried all day. No one fought. In fact, they were gracious to one another, thanking each other for presents and stopping to watch the others open theirs, taking real joy in someone else's pleasure. On what can be the greediest day of the year, my kids acted like people you would want to know. What a pleasure. Then we spent the rest of the day talking to our friends and family around the world, including video chats with Prague and the Middle East, and a wonderful video chat with my family in St. Louis and Indianapolis at the same time! What fun to see my parents, sisters, brothers-in-law, nieces and nephews ( and their cats). I didn't go overboard for Christmas dinner, choosing to just make things my family really likes, and not worrying about having fifteen dishes on the table. It didn't take me all night to clean up, and I got to enjoy my time with friends and family. What a great day!

We've learned a couple of really important lessons, not just for people on the mission field, but just in general. First, I had underestimated the importance of toys. Until yesterday, when there was pleasant conversation in my home as they played, I had not realized how few toys we brought. The kids were so thrilled to have actual things to play with that they forgot to fight and be miserable and unhappy. Hmmm...I'm not sure I could have fit more toys in the bags, but it might have been wise to try. Second, the key to enjoying "big" days may be to have almost no expectations at all. We didn't have an agenda for Christmas day, we didn't have any expectations of what it would be like to celebrate Christmas in a country that doesn't, so we just kind of went with the fun. It was hard to realize that no one around us was celebrating Christ's birth, but it was also a pretty good reminder of why we're here.

Today, unfortunately, it's back to language lessons and our normal grind. But we're looking forward to having toys for the kids to play with, and we're so grateful to have had the funds to provide those toys. Who knew that the key to happiness was a baby doll and a set of legos? Wherever you are, I pray that you also had a tremendous Christmas day, enjoying the blessings God has showered you with. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye

I have theological issues with "The Little Drummer Boy" or I have a ham on the back porch

Any behavior which is not dependent on Him living His life through us comes from the flesh. That suggests that it is even possible to be busy doing things for God while our actions still stem from the energy of the flesh. The exchanged life means we depend on His resources, not our own. Flesh life means depending on what I can do. We may be well respected for our zeal and service to Christ and yet be relying on the flesh. Steve McVey Grace Walk

I had a hard time picking my title, so I’ll explain the stories behind the two.

First, my theological problem with the drummer kid. Here’s the thing…I like him. He seems like a fine young man, if a little presumptuous and nosy to barge his way into the stable and then bother this woman who has just given birth. But whatever. Maybe he didn’t know any better. Maybe his parents actually did raise him in a barn. Here’s the line that bugs me: “I played my drum for Him, I played my best for Him.” I think that just perpetuates the idea among Christian folks that if we just do our best, He’ll smile at us and all will be well. Let’s face it—even at my best, I do little that is good enough to elicit a grin or chuckle from my Maker. I just wanted to point out that the smile this kid gets from the baby Jesus could just be gas. Or maybe the nod from Mary is a signal of sorts, like Carol Burnett used to tug on her ear. Maybe that was her polite way of telling Joseph she really needed everybody out so she could lie down for a minute. Okay…maybe Jesus is really smiling at the kid. He is, after all, Lord of the Universe. He can smile if He wants to.

And while I try to stay away from this kind of thing, the other title is an inside joke for my family. I am going to try to explain it, which will make it not funny at all, but it’s worth it to me to tickle my family. Every year when I was growing up, we left our home—wherever it was—and traveled to my grandparents’ home in Tennessee. I loved going. I still love the memories of showing up at Papa and Mimsey’s house on Christmas Eve, eating sliced apples and cider, and then waiting anxiously for what the next day held. After a wonderful morning at Mimsey’s house, we headed over to Granny and Papa’s for another family Christmas. It was loud and fun, there were too many kids and too much food, and by the end of the night we were all exhausted. Honestly, some of the best memories of my childhood revolve around those trips for Christmas to Tennessee. We generally stayed for several days after Christmas, and anytime anyone was hungry, my Mimsey would say, “There’s a ham out on the back porch. Go slice yourself a piece.” That was great the first day after Christmas, but by day five, none of us wanted any more of the ham on the back porch. So when I walked out on the balcony tonight, which I call the porch, I giggled when I realized that I did, indeed, have a ham on the back porch. Our fridge and freezer are packed full from my shopping trip, so some stuff had to go on the balcony, which is far colder than the fridge when the window is cracked. In fact, it’s practically a second fridge, since it’s packed with milk, cokes, juice, and meat right now. We learned this trick from our friends who have five children—one day’s worth of groceries would fill their fridge for that many kids, so their balcony is a second fridge, too. I can foresee that there is little chance that I won’t encourage my family to go get a slice of the ham on the back porch in the next few days. So for my parents, sisters, aunts, uncles and cousins—there’s a ham on the back porch. Enjoy!
Well, I’d better run. I need to get our Sunday brunch started. That’s one of the traditions we’ve started since we came—since our church meets in the afternoon, we sleep late on Sundays and have a big brunch. We really enjoy having calmer, less hurried Sundays. So on Sundays, we eat brunch and then supper after we get home. It’s something that’s fun for us and different from our lives in the States. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that your Sunday is full of worship and praise for the King of kings. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye

A couple of really good days

But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, for He has been good to me. Psalm 13:5-6

I don't really have anything earth-shattering to report. Like all of you, I am busily trying to get ready for Christmas. Of course, when you have to go everywhere on foot, that's a little harder, but what's really been difficult for us is being somewhere no one else is celebrating Christmas. There will be no Christmas Eve service at our church. In fact, it probably won't even be mentioned in Sunday's sermon. (How would I know if it actually was mentioned? I only understand about 2 out of every 10 words.) There are decorations up everywhere, but they are for New Year's, not Christmas. Russians celebrate Christmas on January 7th, but it isn't even a holiday. So that's been kind of yucky. But we're learning not to let it bother us too much.

On Thursday, I took Hannah and John sledding at a park near us. This is really the playground we use most often, since we don't have one due to construction. They had a great time, and I enjoyed watching them laugh and giggle and compete to see who could go the farthest. I have to say, we are really enjoying the snow. We haven't really gotten our "real" snow, yet, but we love the way it looks when it snows. And because the alternative is walking on the ice, we always prefer there be a nice covering of snow on the ground. (I'm sure Marc will talk about his fall on the ice in his blog, but let's just say it's difficult to walk on the ice.)

On our way home, a lady stopped me to ask if I knew where a women's group was meeting. I didn't, so I replied, "я не знаю." (I don't know.) John tugged on my coat and said, "Mommy, you mean я не понимаю." (I don't understand.) I replied, "No, John. I understand what she's saying, but I don't know where the meeting is." Of course, this was completely done in front of this poor woman who was just looking for her meeting. Finally, John looked up at her, rolled his eyes, and said, "извините." (Excuse me/I'm sorry.) That's right--my six-year-old not only tried to correct my Russian, but then apologized for me to the very nice woman, who giggled at him as she walked away. Not a dignified moment for me.

Yesterday, my friend Karla met me with her car and took me to Megamall, which has not only the Russian version of Wal-mart (where I stocked up on groceries), but also a big toy store and Ikea, the wonderful and glorious store where I purchased many, many Christmas presents. Literally, by the time we returned home (eight hours later), Karla's van was completely full. Now let me say this--Karla was basically done with her shopping, and she didn't need any groceries, because she'd been already that week. She completely went in order to help me make a nice Christmas for my family. How awesome is that? I am thankful for people in our mission--like Karla--who already have lives that are well-established, but are willing to take time to make this newcomer's life a little better. We also went to Stockmann's, a Finnish store that has (extremely expensive) American products. I bought cake, brownie, and cookie mixes, another can of pumpkin, some actual peanut butter, and four things of actual Betty Crocker icing. To top it off, at the grocery store, I found actual Philadelphia cream cheese, real mozzarella that you can shred, and cheddar cheese. I have a whole shelf of my fridge dedicated to cheese. (Russians don't eat cheddar, so there is never any to be found. It's a huge treat for us.) It was a really fun, exciting day. At the food section in Ikea, I bought a cookie tin full of ginger snaps (I bought it for the tin, but John-John and Hannah probably ate half the cookies last night), frozen meatballs and pizzas, and a delicious German pastry. It was just the best day...I know you probably don't care about everything I bought, but I have to tell you that I was really, really excited--about anything that makes Christmas feel Christmas-y.

Well, I'd better run, because my family is starting to stir and I need to feed them. Today is Marc's big shopping day, so I'm looking forward to a day of baking, watching old Christmas movies, and wrapping presents. Pray for us--Sarah Beth, Marc and I are struggling with very sore throats, and it looks like we're going to have to start some antibiotics. None of us treasures the thought of being sick on Christmas. Pray for us, too, while we struggle with loneliness for our families at Christmas. We are trying to make new traditions, but that isn't always as easy as just deciding to do it. Most of all, pray that our celebration of Christmas will be a witness to our neighbors, who are not believers. I'm praying your day is as relaxed and fun as mine promises to be. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye

p.s. Here are some pictures from our sledding trip.

A radically different life

We live with so much noise and busyness that we often don't take enough time to be quiet and think about truth, life, where we are headed, where we want to go, and what we want to accomplish. Consequently we move randomly and purposelessly through life. Pretty soon the years have passed, and we're no different. We've grown older but not wiser--we haven't matured into the stature of the fullness of Christ as Ephesians 4:13-16 says we should. We look at others and feel light-years behind--all because we didn't bask in the light of His Word. Kay Arthur

For those of you who don't know me personally, this blog may or may not be of interest to you. But for those of you who have known me a long time, I wanted to share how and when my life took the turn to international missions, and when my Christian life drastically changed. I hope you will find it an encouragement to you--something you need if, like me, you find yourself with five shopping days and not nearly everything done.

I accepted Christ as my Savior when I was five. I have never doubted that decision, and have, in fact, had it confirmed many times. I was raised in a loving Christian home, did all the right stuff, went to a Southern Baptist college, met a Southern Baptist boy, married him and set out to make a life for myself. I have enjoyed great professional success as a teacher, and along the way had three wonderful children. Except for a couple of bumps in the road, I've had a ridiculously happy marriage. Blessed all around, wouldn't you say?

But for much of my adult Christian life, something was missing. I found myself mired in a rebelliousness of spirit that just wouldn't let me go, or I wouldn't let it go. I enjoyed being a little disdainful of my Christian brothers and sisters, was glad to be an "enlightened" follower of Christ. I was a Christian, for sure, and I wasn't doing a bunch of bad stuff. But in my heart, I was rebellious. And don't forget bitter. I was definitely bitter, especially at anyone who I thought had done me wrong. Let's just say that forgiveness and mercy were not my middle name.

So what changed for me? During one of the "storms" of my life, God finally had my full attention. I begged Him to tell me the other party was wrong. Nothing. I asked if I were wrong. Nothing. Finally, after months of this ongoing conversation between me and my Creator, I asked Him what He wanted to teach me. Never in my life have I had a clearer sense of the doors being blown off of the little house I'd built for myself. I dove into His word in a way I hadn't in the past. Don't get me wrong--I had always had a quiet time. I am, if nothing else, a very disciplined person. But suddenly I found myself hungering and thirsting for what He had to say to me personally--not anyone else--and I found He had a lot to say to me. About love. About forgiveness and mercy, even when nobody asks to be forgiven. About finding joy in spite of circumstances to the contrary. About not being guided by my emotions, but by His love for me and those around me. He had a lot to say, and it was all there--I just had to apply it to my own life.

You know what happened? Everything changed for me. Everything. I looked at my whole world in a different light, and suddenly, I found myself pulled toward international missions. Of course, I tried to put that out of my mind...but I obviously didn't succeed. Here I sit in my apartment in Moscow--a testimony to the power of God's word if you let it get ahold of your life. I will never be the same. Never. And even now, as we struggle to transition into our new life here, I find that God's word is my life raft every single morning. Maybe now more than ever. Never have I known a time when I felt more like I needed His wisdom and guidance--for everything from raising my children and loving my husband to being wise with our funds. He is there in every decision, and because of that, there is great peace.

Wherever you are around the world, whatever your circumstances, I challenge you to look in God's word for your every need. He is merciful, faithful, and true. As one who has tested Him again and again, I can testify to this. If you allow His word to soak in, if you take time to meditate on it and bask in it...your life will be forever changed, too. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye

Living in the world's most expensive city

Thus says the LORD, "Let not a wise man boast of his wisdom, and let not the mighty man boast of his might, let not a rich man boast of his riches; but let him who boasts boast of this, that he understands and knows Me, that I am the LORD who exercises lovingkindness, justice, and righteousness on earth; for I delight in these things," declares the LORD. Jeremiah 9:23-24

Okay, my blog today has no deep spiritual meaning, and it's totally unrelated to the scripture above. In my word study of the Bible (I'm all the way up to the B's!), I came upon this verse this morning. I really liked what it had to say. More and more, I find myself in a position to boast of absolutely nothing except Him. That was harder for me when I spoke the language of those around me fluently, but since I now speak like a two-year-old (a bright two-year-old--I'm making progress), it's hard to boast about anything but Him. See how God's working?! Okay, the spiritual part of my blog is over. :o)

If you didn't know, or if there's no reason whatsoever for you to keep track of such things, Moscow just happens to be the world's most expensive city. Yep, that's right. Unbelievably expensive. For instance, I went Christmas shopping yesterday at Russia's largest toy store. The Barbies were forty dollars and up. The kind of Barbies you buy at Target for four bucks, the really plain ones for that birthday party of the kid your kid isn't really that friendly with (you know which ones I'm talking about), yeah, those start at forty bucks. I'm not kidding. I just couldn't do it. I'm going to the toy store near us today, because it seems to me that even though they're the same chain of toy stores, ours has better prices--likely because we live in the "suburbs" and the one I went to yesterday is in the center of the city. Yikes! I'm not kidding--Sarah Beth and I almost had a heart attack trying to find toys. We did find some really cute things, but we paid more for them than I can even imagine. So many folks, many who read this blog regularly, sent money to my parents to deposit for us to use for Christmas. It never in a million years occurred to me that people would do that. If you did that, can I just say thank you? We would never be able to afford anything for our kids if folks hadn't helped. It's just an unbelievably thoughtful, nice thing to do. My children are going to have a nice Christmas, and its totally because so many people helped us provide it for them.

Everything here costs more. We cannot get out of the grocery store (where we go every single day) without spending at least 1,000 rubles (which is about $40). My children will NOT be getting clothing for Christmas, because we simply can't afford it. No missionaries buy clothes here--they have them brought in from the states. You can't imagine how expensive clothes are. It's one reason Russians don't have a whole closet full of clothes and wear the same outfit again and again--they can't afford to buy lots and lots of clothes.

But here's the interesting thing: Irina says that Russians never complain about how expensive things are, because they remember the days when there was simply nothing to buy. She told me that immediately after the fall of communism, when her son was very little, she would stand in line for 4-5 hours to buy a pacquette (a really small package) of spaghetti. They couldn't find anything to buy--her parents shipped things in on the train from Kiev, or they wouldn't have survived. So it's all a matter of perspective. Irina has told us many, many interesting things about living under communism and in the new Russia. For instance, did you know that Russians mourned for a long time over the death of JFK? According to Irina, they loved JFK almost as much as Americans, considered him a friend, and were devastated both at his death and at the suspicions pointed at them for somehow orchestrating it. Interesting, huh?

Well, this wasn't very spiritual or deeply moving. Sorry. Some days, I just have to tell you about the practicalities of living here. It's such an interesting thing to live in a place so totally different from home. It's doubly interesting to live in a place that was my home's greatest enemy for so many years. Well, I'm off to make breakfast. Love you guys, and hope you have a wonderfully inexpensive day wherever you are! Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

I don't want to smell like fish

Every word of God is tested; he is a shield to those who take refuge in Him. Do not add to His words or He will reprove you, and you will be proved a liar. Proverbs 30:5-6

You need a little background on why the title is funny. First of all, Marc and I did the Jonah routine for many, many years. Just replace Nineveh with Eastern Europe, and you've pretty much got the idea. One night at dinner, we were talking about knowing God was calling us to missions, and Marc said, "You know, Kel--after all these years in the belly of the whale, I'm cold and I smell like fish." It wasn't a funny conversation, but it was a funny comment, one we picked up and used from then on.

The second reason it's funny is because our neighbor, God bless her, cooks fish every single day (in all fairness, most Russians eat fish every single day). The problem is that her kitchen backs up to our bathroom, so by about five in the afternoon, our bathroom reeks of fish. She is also, evidently, a heavy smoker (as are most Russians), so you can imagine what a delight our bathroom is by around 7. Marc will come out and say, "Fish and cigarettes for dinner again, just in case you were wondering."

Now I'm studying Jonah in a Kay Arthur study, so here I am with the fish theme again. Anyway, he just got swallowed by the great fish, and he's hanging out in the belly right now. (If you know Kay Arthur, you know I've been on chapter one for about six days.) Here's what occurred to me this morning as I was doing a key word study of "storm" in chapter one. We often blame storms in our life on the enemy. Satan must really be angry with us to be causing all these problems--that kind of thing. I'm convinced that more often than not, the storms aren't coming from the enemy, but from a loving Father who is trying to get our attention. I think we give Satan a lot more credit than he's due. As one who has been in the belly of the great fish and lived to tell about it, I must say that I am all for giving God my attention before He feels the need to make the waters choppy. Know what I mean?

Well, I need to run. It's time to make breakfast, and then it's off for some sledding with the kids and Christmas shopping this afternoon with Sarah Beth. (Today is my day off language study.) We are way behind on Christmas shopping, and we are desperately trying to get everything done. Please continue to pray for us, that we can embrace Christmas in our new home without being overly homesick, something we are definitely struggling with right now. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye