God's Masterpiece

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye

Running a three-legged race all by myself

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye

The value of great teachers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye

Longing for my old self...just a little

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye

Jesus loves you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye

My Lifetime Movie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye

Great is His Faithfulness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye