Finding the secret place

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye

Home

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye

Pulling Weeds

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye

A challenge to churches

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye

Saying yes

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

The "normal" picture of the Plzen Six.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His,
Kellye

God's Masterpiece

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