The sky is clear, but I know rain clouds are on the horizon

I don't know what John is doing with his hands, but his mouth is full of shashleek--Russian barbecue--which we would call shish-kebab.
Hannah and some of her pals at the fourth of July picnic. When did Hannah get this old?
Hannah making the play at the kickball world championships on July 4th. Actually, there probably is such a thing, so you should know it's actually just the kickball game they played at the picnic on July 4th.
In true John-John fashion, even when kicking the ball, he looks like he's making some kind of karate move. When he was little--maybe 4--we were outside and it was windy. He started karate chopping all over the place, and when I asked him why, he said, "I fight the wind, Mommy. I fight the wind."

There are giants in the land
But within our reach
There is a victor's sword
A mighty, sovereign Lord
The Rock of Ages.
--"Giants in the Land" by Wayne Watson

"When we heard it, our hearts melted and no courage remained in any man any longer because of you; for the LORD your God, He is God in heaven above and on earth beneath." Joshua 2:11

It's been a few days since I blogged, and I'd love to say it was because I was so busy. Unfortunately, it was because I have been so sick. I finally got into the doctor yesterday. I was able to schedule an appointment with an ENT specialist, and he suctioned out my ear, which allows me to hear again, and told me what kind of ear drops to get to cure the second infection that was lurking behind the gunk in my ear. (Lovely, I know.) Unfortunately, we have not been able to find the drops in any pharmacy yet, so this morning my ear is not painful, but not as good as yesterday. Sigh.

I have spent some time watching really good movies in the last few days. I watched Rebecca and Dead Poet's Society with Sarah Beth and Facing the Giants last night with Hannah and Marc. While I adore the movies I watched with Sarah Beth, it was the movie last night that made a real impact on me.

If you're not familiar with the movie (and we'd not seen it before), it's a production of a church in Georgia. Some of the acting isn't fabulous, though I thought the lead characters did quite well, and the production values are really good. At the end, when the main character cries out to God, "I am overwhelmed, Lord," well...there wasn't a dry eye in the room. Especially Marc and I, who cried our way through the whole movie. And I'm not talking some sniffles, either, or a few tears easily taken care of with a tissue. No, sir--I mean hand me the kleenex box kind of crying. And not just because God has taken care of so many giants to get us here to Russia--logistical giants, personal giants, spiritual giants--but also because there are many giants not just in the land, but camping out in our living room. To name a few:

• visa issues that began the week after we got here in October
• financial issues related to paying for the kids' schooling
• language issues (those would be universal for any adult learning a new language)
• health issues--we struggled through our first winter with nagging health problems
• family issues--you try being together 24/7 for over a year now!
• loneliness issues--enough said
• cultural issues--ask anyone who has been here, and they'll tell you that Russians can be hard to love collectively
  

When I look at that list, I have to be honest...it seems insurmountable. I look at that list and know that there is NO WAY that I can handle even one of those things. I look at that list, and I want to book a flight home to my Momma and Daddy and lick my wounds and get my job back and get back to "real" life.

There is a moment in the film, when the main character finds out that his job is in jeopardy, that he tells another character that God has not released him from that place. And the other character tells a story of two farmers who prayed to God for rain. One sat in the house; the other went to the fields and got them ready for rain. Which one saw the rain? The one who prepared for it because he KNEW it was coming. Until God moves you, bloom here where He planted you, the older man tells the younger. And get out there and prepare for rain. Now, I know it's just a movie, but we nearly had to hit the pause button to recover from that scene.

I am forty years old. I have had a wonderful career as a teacher. I have three beautiful children, a husband I am crazy about, a family I adore, a guaranteed spot on the praise team, a great church. So what in the world am I doing here? And with just one look at that list, why do I stay? Because, like Rahab in Numbers, I know that the Lord my God is God in heaven above and on earth below. I tremble in His presence. He called. I had no choice but to answer. He has not released me from this place. So instead of trembling in fear at that list, He wants me to prepare my fields for rain that is coming. Not that may come. That is coming. And though I'm looking outside at a bright, clear morning without a cloud in the sky, I know the rain clouds are out there somewhere, and I don't want to miss out on the harvest. The list above, by the way, isn't even half of the giants we are looking at here. Some things are simply too personal to share in such a public format. But I listed them this morning in my prayer journal, and here's the promise I made to God--as He slays each of these giants, I will publicly give Him the glory. As the giants in this land disappear one by one, I will share them with you, and together we can praise the mighty God who is God in heaven above and on earth below. Deal?

Well, it's time for me to run. We are headed to the park for a few hours of fun with some friends of ours, folks who have just recently moved here, and whose company we really enjoy. Anybody else hear the giant of loneliness starting to totter? Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are busy cultivating your fields for the rain that's on the way, and that you are spending the day playing with your kids, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

I knew all that Shakespeare would pay off some day

быт или не быт; вот чем вапрос. (To be or not to be; that is the question.)--Hamlet, Shakespeare

As I mentioned in my last post, I have been pretty sick for the last several days. Yesterday was the first better day I have had, and last night was the first night in several that I slept more than two hours. Of course, I was still up at five, but I felt pretty rested in comparison to the nights before. Unfortunately, I'm feeling kind of yuck this morning, so I'm sitting up in Marc's recliner, blogging and listening to a crime show on tv. (I don't care whether it's court tv or trutv or whatever...I love all those forensic shows.) I still feel better...just not more than I did yesterday, which was my hope. I also slept through a dose of antibiotic and tylenol, so the pain has taken hold of me this morning a little more than I'd like. So while I wait for the tylenol to kick in, I thought I'd blog a little bit.

I'm going to confess something now, and it's only going to confirm for you that I'm as big a nerd as you think I am. I love Shakespeare. Honestly, I have ready all of Shakespeare (thank you, Dr. Jones), and I really enjoy his work. I like teaching him (though he can be a little dark for high school), I like reading him, I like analyzing him. But I must tell you that all those years ago, when I was sitting in Dr. Jones' class and reading the entirety of the big, red Shakespeare book, I wondered if it would ever mean anything in "real" life. I mean, it's fun to read, good stories and all that, but was I ever going to use it? (Of course, I became an English teacher and taught some Shakespeare every single year for seventeen years, but that's a different story.) In the last few days of being sort of still and quiet (an anomaly for me), I've had some time to think about ol' Shakespeare, and I've decided that there's some pretty good stuff in there, stuff I can use in real life. And if I'm going to use something in real life, the most elemental question in Shakespeare is the quote above. To be or not to be?

Now, let me clarify that when Hamlet utters these words, he's really contemplating whether life is worth living or if he should just go ahead and kill himself. After all, his uncle has killed his father, married his mother, and taken over the kingdom. To top it all off, his father's ghost is pressuring him to seek vengeance and he's got a girlfriend with some stability/sanity issues. Hamlet has troubles. He has issues. So he's really contemplating something I'm not. I'm a pretty life-affirming gal. Even in the pain of the worst ear infection in the history of mankind, I'm not trying to figure out whether or not life is worth living. It is. Unequivocally, life is worth living.

However, I've had some time to think about why that question is so elemental to who we are. We have choices to make about who we are. We have choices to make about how we present ourselves to others. We have choices to make about the life we live. As I've thought about it, at least from a Christian perspective, to be means to be exactly what God created you to be. Not to be is trying to be something else. Every day, maybe every minute, we decide to be or not to be. This blog is a great example. I could decide to present to you a voice of confidence and perfection and passionate fire for the work of God. But that wouldn't always be the truth. Perfection wouldn't ever be the truth, and this new world has taken some of my confidence, and to be honest, some days I just want to live a normal life in Middleburg, Florida, and leave the "God work" to those who can do it better and are more worthy of doing it. So I have to decide...am I going to be or not be?

It's hard for me to choose to be the person I am, created by God in a specific way, but flawed, flawed, flawed. I would love to be more together, with a house that's always clean, two cars in the garage, perfect children, and a full bank account with no financial worries. But I'm not that person. I have a messy apartment, a car only because somebody else left town, a far from perfect family, and school tuition that I have no clue how I'm going to pay. But somewhere along the way, God chose me and my imperfect bunch to do something kind of extraordinary. We still can't tell you why, but He picked us for this place at this time. And though we don't know all the answers to every question in our lives, we have learned beyond all else that He is faithful. Faithful to provide, faithful to save, faithful to protect...faithful. All I have to do is be faithful to be the person He created me to be--warts and all.

Well, it's 7:30, and I've been up for a while, so I think I'm going to lay down and watch my crime shows. (Did your grandmother used to say she was watching her stories? That's what I was going for there.) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that your choice today is to be, and that where you live it's not 56 degrees in the summer. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Blessings in droves

John-John and his iguana pal high-fiving each other at the Moscow zoo. We went earlier this week with our friends who left on Thursday for a year of Stateside Assignment (STAS) in Florida.
Our Sarah Beth with her friend, Sarah Beth. They call themselves SBSquared. What goofballs. This is also at the Moscow zoo.

Our help is in the name of the LORD, who made heaven and earth. Psalm 124:8

It's funny how God answers our prayers sometimes. I prayed and prayed that July 4th would not be depressing. The first year we have not celebrated in the good ol' U.S.A., far away from home, without our traditional day at the pool with my parents and aunt and uncle...it had the makings of a depressing day of homesickness. Instead, Marc and the kids spent the day at an all-mission picnic (where Marc was the hero of the kickball game, at least according to him), and I stayed at home sick as a dog. See--I didn't have time to feel homesick. Prayer answered. I was too busy rocking back and forth in the fetal position from the pain of an ear infection that I let get out of hand because I just thought I had a clogged ear. Unfortunately, the pain radiating with every heartbeat down my neck and into my jaw declared that, indeed, there was an infection. I took augmentin and then penicillin, all to no avail. Luckily for me, my friend Frances called from the riverbed in Alabama yesterday and gave me the Russian name of a really high-powered antibiotic they prescribe in the U.S. Marc was kind enough to run to the pharmacy and pick it up, and after 1,000 mgs last night and another 1000 mgs this morning, I'm still in a lot of pain, but I can tell I'm the tiniest bit better. The screaming in my ear is down to a ringing, which isn't pleasant but is bearable. I'm hoping after another day today of light activity (I had no activity yesterday at all) that I'll be a lot better by tomorrow. There is something to be said for getting anything over the counter you want.

One thing I did do yesterday was talk to my parents and to my friend, Frances, and to my best friend, Tara. Frances is just one of those people who is a helper. She and her family are on STAS until September 1st, but she took the time on July 4th to call me and check in to see how we were handling our first Independence Day away from home. Frances has taken me places in her car, helped me with medications, and pitched in whenever help was needed. When our pipes burst and the kids were here with the neighbors screaming at them, it was her husband, Kris, who flew to the rescue. I look forward to them coming back in September, and spending time with them again. But one of the things that really hit me yesterday after talking to Tara was the kind of friendships I have formed in the last year, and how they really are God's fulfillment of the desires of my heart.

Tara and Matt and Marc and I met at candidate conference last April. We were in the same small group, which meant that we spent basically the whole time together. We also made other friends--Robert and Elaine, who are in Budapest--and we all just hit it off. It was one of those things where you are forced to be 100% real with people, because you're all in the same boat. Everybody is going to go through the interview, which is a little daunting, to be honest. Everybody is going to have to deal with medical stuff. Everybody is going to have to sign that paper that says the IMB doesn't negotiate with terrorists, and we want to go anyway. You're all there together. So I can honestly tell you that the weekend we all spent together was like friendship at hyperspeed. And I'm not that person. I'm not an open-up-and-talk-about-your-feelings kind of gal. I'm really not. So these friendships that had the stamp of eternity were kind of a shock to me.

Then we all went to FPO together. And we made more friends. There were the precious people in our quad--Darrell and Vicki, who are in Prague, Johann and Stacy and our precious baby Jack, who are in Prague, and Larry and Melissa, also in Prague, Greg and Barbara and their precious girls, in a place I can't mention, Shea and Rachel and Erin and Seba in Poland--precious, precious people to us. We spent hours together, playing, praying, worshiping, and just living together. I can't describe for you exactly what FPO is like, but it's an intense, draining time that you spend with people you really, really love. And our friendships just grew and grew and grew.

One of the great support pieces the IMB has put in place for us is these friendships. We talk often to these people from around the world, who share our heart, who know our warts (you can't live together that long and not show every fault you have), and who love us anyway. When Tara called yesterday, she didn't tell me how I should feel or tell me I was wrong or tell me I wasn't being very "Christian-ly"...she just let me talk and loved me and loved me and loved me. Then she got off the phone and prayed for me. And then she and her precious husband prayed for us together. Isn't that what real friendship looks like?

Several years ago, Marc and I lost a group of friends we had spent a great deal of time with. It was a terrible time, and something I don't want to rehash here for various reasons. But it occurred to me this morning that during that time we cried out again and again to God in our loneliness, praying for friendships that were real, that counted, that were without judgment attached, friendships we could feel so comfortable in that we could just be ourselves without fearing that we would be suddenly cut off because someone decided we weren't good enough to be friends with anymore. And He has answered that prayer in droves. My Daddy often comments that we sure do have a lot more social activities in Moscow than we ever had in Middleburg, and he's right. And without fail, every week since we've been here, we've talked to at least one of our "mission friends," people we love and who love us, whose friendship is invaluable to us, who are God's answer to our prayers all those years ago.

Never in my life did I imagine that my best friends would live in places like Prague and Brazil. Never did I imagine a world in which this blog would be read by people all over the world, because we have friends all over the world. God is funny and big and unpredictable. And though neither Tara nor I have found that one soulmate in the places where we serve, I think I can speak for both us when I say that we are forever grateful to a God who loves us enough to give us each other.

Well, I have been sitting up for a whole hour now, and the ringing in my ear is climbing back up to a scream, so I'm going to take that as a sign to lie back down for a while. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that if you are blessed enough to have a best friend you can give them a hug, and that you catch your ear infection before it turns into the roaring disaster that mine is. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

He is not asleep

Our precious friends at house church. When we want to leave, these are the people who God has given us to keep us here.

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. He will not allow your foot to slip; He who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. Psalm 121:1-4

This will not be long--I have to head to the grocery store and buy our stuff for a picnic lunch before we meet friends at the metro for a trip to the Moscow Zoo--but I did not want to let another day go by without a blog. First of all, my family worries if I go for very long without blogging, and also, I actually have something edifying to say.

It's been a rough week. I mean a rough, rough week. Visa problems, friends leaving, upheaval, discontent, and above all, loneliness. By Thursday, the suitcases were out, and we were ready to come home. Let me rephrase that--I was ready to come home. I was ready to be good at something again. I was ready for life to be a little easier. I was ready to be content with life. I was ready to have close friends, and especially for my children to have close friends. But after some conversations, we put the suitcases away and sat down for a minute. What is really going on here? Why are we so discouraged?

When I really sat down to pray about the discouragement, and I mean really pray, not just a cursory prayer, I realized that I had spent a lot of time praying, but very little time listening. So on Sunday morning, I made myself sit for ten minutes and just listen. I asked the question, "God, how can I be encouraged in such a hard place?" and then I sat. I didn't clean. I didn't journal. I didn't listen to music. I just sat. And nothing phenomenal happened. I didn't hear some kind of voice. I didn't feel the moving of His spirit within me. Nothing. All I could think of was "Be still and know that I am God." I'm not God. He is. And He isn't asleep. We aren't alone. We may feel alone, but we aren't really.

And then, of course, we had house church at our home for the first time. After great praise and worship and 2 1/2 hours of studying the Bible, we fellowshipped for another three hours or so. Spontaneous singing broke out near the end of our time together. But best of all, when they came in and took their shoes off, they were glad to be here. The Russians volunteered to lead music and Bible study next week. We had a wonderful time together, the most encouraging time all week. As Marc and I talked about it afterward, it occurred to us that God's gift to us has been these people, these names and faces in whose path He has placed us. When we really, really think about going home, inevitably someone says (usually one of the children), "But what would _______________ do without us?" What would Liliana do without us? or Vika? or Dema? or Sardonna? or Ksenia? Who will lead them to Jesus? We are here. We have been placed in their path. If not us, who? And then we know that we cannot go home. Maybe God will not call us back here after our first term. Maybe three years is all He requires of us. But for this moment in time, we are here, and that is really all that matters. With eternal consequences for people we love on the line, there really are not decisions to make.

And so we stay. And we practice our Russian, and we go to the zoo, and we get ready for July 4th, which is supposed to be rainy and cold here. And we thank God that there are people all over the world, some we know and love and some we have never met, who are standing in the gap for us, holding up our arms because we are simply too exhausted to do it for ourselves. Many, many of you who read this blog are gap-fillers. You are precious to me, dear friend. Thank you for standing in the gap for this tired, tired woman.

Well, it's off to the grocery. Nothing like walking a mile and a half for your bananas to make you appreciate them! Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are encouraged to know that the God of Everything not only does not sleep nor slumber, but is constantly holding you in the palm of His mighty right hand, and that you are looking forward to your trip to the monkey house today. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Looking for the footprints

Righteousness will go before Him and will make His footsteps into a way. Psalm 85:13

I haven't written in a few days, both because I've been very busy and because our internet was out for almost two days. If you're looking for a good, but difficult, way to practice your new language--call the internet repairman to try and figure out what's wrong with your internet. Good times! We have been busy, too--language lessons, meetings, new families coming into Moscow, friends leaving for Stateside, sleepovers, picnics--you get the idea. In fact, as I write this, Hannah is at her friend's house spending the night. We have a break in language lessons next week while our teacher is on vacation in Turkey, and then we have three more days and I'm done and Marc is done for the rest of July and all of August. In September, he will go back to do some part-time language, but will be done with full-time. You cannot imagine the sigh of relief that is for us. Because we are working under the International Service Corps and not the Career appointment track for the IMB, we have had to do full-time language with no help for our children. If we were career, we would have had school paid for so the kids would be out of the house during our language lessons, and we might have had a house helper. We have had neither, and it has been extremely difficult on the entire family. Please know that I am not complaining--these are simply the facts of the program under which we came. But now that it's summer, it is very hard on the kids, because they are basically stuck in the apartment while we are doing language and homework. My kids are from Florida, and they need their outside time! So we made this decision prayerfully and carefully, but we have no doubt that it's the right decision. We will never be fully finished with language, and if we come back to Russia as career missionaries we will have to go back into language school for at least a year. I have to be honest...that's a hard idea to wrap my brain around. But if that's what God calls us to, then that's what we'll do.

One of the things I have really, really struggled with here is what success looks like. When we were in a meeting the first month we were here, a good friend, someone whose opinion I value highly, said to me, "Kellye, my concern for you is that you put such an emphasis on being successful. Success does not look the same here as it did in the States." Truer words have never been spoken. When we were deciding whether or not to take on house church after our team leaders head home for a year of Stateside, my only concern was success. I even said to Marc, "I don't want to fail at one more thing here. I just don't think I can handle any more failure." When he asked me what I felt I had failed at, my response was a long list of things: language, homeschooling, making friends, getting the house organized...you name it, and I feel I've failed at it. Then last weekend, I made the mistake of looking at some very, very good news about some programs I started in a couple of the schools I worked in at home. Those programs are thriving, students are being successful, teachers seem satisfied...and I'm stuck in Russia, where I can't even speak the language above the level of a five-year-old. I know what success looks like in my field. I know what success looks like in my home church. But it's not at all clear to me what success looks like here.

I'd love to say that I have this all figured out now, that my search for success is all in the past tense, that I feel comfortable and encouraged and wonderful about how I fit into God's plan for this huge city...but I can't. Marc is gregarious and outgoing, and Russians adore him. He has work stacked up for the next twenty years. He clearly fits into the IMB's strategy for this megacity. My particular gifts--organization, leadership, even music--don't seem to be of any use here. But I know that God has a purpose and a plan, and that somewhere out there in this city of fifteen million, His footprints are laying out a way for me. I just have to find where the footprints are, and then follow. Of course, that falls under the heading of "easier to say than do," but I think He'll honor my efforts.

Well, everyone in my house is up and moving, so I should go. There is enough cleaning to be done to keep me busy for a long time, so I should probably get to it. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that His footsteps are clearly marked out for you, and that your coffeecake turned out as tasty as mine did this morning. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Declaring Him worthy from the elliptical machine

My precious Sarah Beth. She took this while at Victory Park, her favorite place in Moscow. I'm so proud of how she just gets out and goes and explores. She is a pretty great kid (and cute, too).
Also at Victory Park--the Russian Orthodox onion dome. This style of architecture, which is so closely identified with all things Russian, is a combination of two giant influences in Russian culture--Europe and Asia.

Therefore, since we have this ministry, as we received mercy, we do not lose heart, but we have renounced the things hidden because of shame, not walking in craftiness or adulterating the word of God, but by the manifestation of truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God. II Corinthians 4:1-2

Worthy is the Lamb/Worthy of our praise/Worthy is the One who has overcome the grave/Let the people dance/Let the people sing/Worthy is our mighty King! Alive Forever Amen--Travis Cottrell

You're going to look at the time stamp on this post, do the math, and wonder what in the world I'm doing up at 6:15 a.m. on a Saturday. Well, truth be told, I've been up since 3:30, when I got up to turn on the projector and slingbox for Hannah and her friends Abby and Amielle to watch Camp Rock, the newest Disney channel movie. Clearly, I have got to get a life! Actually, listening to them giggle and laugh at the movie (which stars the Jonas Brothers, who are purported to be Christians) was well worth the three hours of sleep I actually got last night. Plus, I got a nice, long quiet time with no interruptions...that alone is worth getting up early. I think I convinced them to go back to sleep for a little while, so hopefully they will take my advice. Otherwise, I'm going to have some very tired girls on my hands.

The big news of the week, besides that the dryer can be fixed for relatively little, is that I purchased an elliptical machine. Those of you who know me will remember that I had to lose quite a bit of weight in order to be appointed by the IMB, which has very strict weight guidelines, and that I spent a good amount of time on a treadmill in order to walk off the pounds. I am very excited about my machine. I have used it every day since I've had it. It's the hardest exercise I've ever done, but I like it because I can listen to my iPod at the same time. I like to listen to MercyMe, Third Day, or Travis Cottrell while I exercise--it just helps motivate me and pump up my commitment.

Yesterday I was listening to one of my all-time favorite songs, "Alive Forever Amen." I have sung this song in all kinds of contexts and groups--large choirs, small praise teams, etc, and it never fails to move me. So I was sweating away--I had washed my exercise clothes, so they were still wet, and I was wearing an old OBU t-shirt and long john pants--and it occurred to me that everything we do declares Him worthy...or doesn't. Yes, going to the mission field makes a statement about Christ's place in my life, but raising my children to honor Him does, too. Going to church every Sunday is a declaration of sorts, but so is handling your business dealings in an ethical manner. Teaching VBS is kingdom work for sure, but so is being nice to the cashier at Publix. I think I always knew that how I lived my life mattered, but it is increasingly clear to me here in the midst of the Russian culture. Russians may come off as distant and aloof, but one-on-one they are very responsive to simple gestures of just being a decent human being. We stopped to help a man Wednesday night who was so drunk he fell over when he got off the bus with us. Marc helped him up, I grabbed his bag, and we got him to a bench. And while the danger of alcohol is an important lesson for my kids, a more important lesson, at least in my opinion, is that part of being real Christians is treating people with compassion and dignity and mercy, even when they have not earned it. Literally stooping down to pick someone up declares Him worthy of any sacrifice we could possibly make. More than anything else I want to teach my children, I want them to see in my life a model of what it means to daily declare Christ worthy of my praise.

It's almost time to get Marc up, so I should go. It's quiet in the living room, so I'm hoping the girls went to sleep. Marc and John are asleep in our room--John-John wanted a sleepover, too--and Sarah Beth managed to get some sleep in her own bed. Luckily, we only have a light day, though we will likely be up late because Russia is playing The Netherlands in the quarterfinals of the Euro Championships. Try to imagine the frenzy of the Super Bowl plus lots of vodka. Actually, it is really fun to watch, and we can hear people cheering and celebrating in the apartments around us and on the street. The match tonight doesn't start until 10:45, so there's little hope that we'll be in bed early. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are living a life that declares Him worthy of your very best, and that your daughter's sleepover friends are as wonderful as Hannah's. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Just for fun

Honestly, this is just because I think it's funny, and John-John speaks Russian, which I think is pretty cute. Enjoy!