Overwhelmed

The sun rise as seen from our terrace. The tall thing in the distance is a church clock tower. This is looking out the back of our apartment.

My kitchen, or at least one side of it. It's small, but it has a really good amount of storage space. And yes, those are homemade biscuits waiting to go in the oven.

The living room. We're getting there, but we obviously don't have anything on the walls, yet. It's a cozy space.

As the deer pants for the water brooks, so my soul pants for You, O God. Psalm 42:1

We arrived in Vienna three weeks ago today. It seems like it was yesterday, but it also seems like we've been here a long time. Our transition into a new city has gone pretty well, with only a few bumps in the road. Everyone is adjusting to a new life here, making new friends, meeting new neighbors, navigating a new neighborhood. After what seemed like forever in limbo, waiting for official word from the company about when and where we would be serving, it's good to be doing something, to feel like we are moving in the right direction.

It's quiet this morning. Marc is in Prague for a meeting, Hannah just left for the Alps with a friend's family from school, and John is sick and still asleep. (It's nothing serious--sore throat and headache and a fever, but enough for him to be pretty lethargic.) So I have some time to contemplate and be quiet and catch you up on what has been happening since we arrived. It's a gorgeous morning here, and I'm especially enjoying the sunlight streaming through all the windows in the apartment--and there are MANY windows.

I don't know that I have anything particularly profound to say about our arrival. It was wonderful. Our team made us feel like they were very happy to have us back. The Vienna City team has made us feel very, very welcome. We love the kids' school. There are ministry opportunities there. We like the church we've been attending. The city is incredibly beautiful, easy to navigate, and full of really friendly people (at least in our neighborhood--we've not experienced a lot outside of our little spot). We live a few blocks from the United Nations, and I hear several different languages taking the kids to and from school every day. Our next door neighbors are from Nepal and speak fluent English and are very, very nice. We are slowly getting to know our neighborhood, walking a different section each night, making our way around. Our apartment is about two blocks from the Danube River, and there are lots of things to do there. If you can't tell, we really, REALLY love our neighborhood. There are some things that have been hard--a new language, fitting in at a new school, feeling like we live in a giant's garage sale (smile...the chaos of totally furnishing and putting together a new place was more than we bargained for)...but, generally speaking, we are happy. We're content. This is where we're supposed to be at this moment in time.

But I didn't want to come here. I wanted to go back to Moscow. Our love for that city and for Russians isn't exactly a secret. Talk to us and you'll find that we are passionate, intense, and maybe a little obsessed with Russia and Russians. I listen intently for Slavic languages on the bus and ubahn (the metro system in Vienna). I look at faces and try to see if they have Slavic features. Russia is home. It is my heart. So why am I so happy in Austria? Because God is good and faithful and clear to direct our lives when we ask. Because while I am passionate about Russia and Russians, my prayer is that God would continue to break me apart for the lost people I meet on a daily basis. Not just Russians. Not just Slavs. Everyone. Every single person without the hope of Jesus Christ in their lives.

And so I'm content to be here, where God has clearly directed us for this season. I am thrilled with my apartment, with my kids' school, with the possibilities for ministry that I see in front of me. I will continue to walk the streets of my neighborhood, making relationships and praying for those I meet. I will continue to stand at my kitchen window and pray for the neighborhood in which God has placed me...a tradition born out of my desperate unhappiness when we first arrived in Moscow. Above all, I will continue to be thankful for my incredibly faithful God, who has so proven His love for me and mine, His absolute faithfulness on our behalf, that I can be content to sit in the center of His plan for my life...no matter where in the world that plan leads me.

Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are overwhelmed by the goodness of God, by His faithfulness and trustworthiness, and that you are looking forward to watching College Gameday on ESPN America this afternoon, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

How can I say thanks?

What words would be sufficient to describe this moment? None.

I thank my God in all my remembrance of you, always offering prayer with joy in my every prayer for you all, in view of your participation in the gospel from the first day until now. Philippians 1: 3-5

We're down to hours. Hours. After months of medical issues, months of not knowing when we would be going or where, months in limbo--we are down to hours. How faithful is our God? How big is He in the face of obstacles? He's certainly bigger and more faithful than I can put into mere words. And all of His faithfulness was celebrated last evening at a service held by our church. While there is no way to describe the service or adequately explain what it meant to us, I'm going to give it at least a try, because I think it highlights what God can do when given a chance.

Sometimes, it's easy to think of the church as a place. We often say that we live on the church grounds. We talk about the building as the church. But that isn't the church at all. The church is a community of people who choose to have faith in God. The church isn't Southern Baptist or Methodist or Catholic--the church is all who choose to believe in Christ and in His grace and mercy and compassion. It's easy to become frustrated with the church, because people sometimes act kind of awful. If you've been in church--or around human beings at all--you know that we can be pretty horrid, collectively. And it's easy to grumble and get caught up in that. But the church continues to be beloved by Christ. He gave His life for the church. And He commands us to love the church as well. Remember all that "love the brethren" business? Yep. It's the church being discussed in all those passages. And I don't think that's happenstance or coincidence, because I am pretty sure God knows how terrible we can be, given half a chance. So He demands that we love one another. After all, why would anyone want what we have if all they see is squabbling, fighting and back-stabbing? They wouldn't. And that's why a lot of people aren't buying what we're selling, because that IS all they see. But last night was one of those nights in which the church--as God intended it to--showed up and loved one another.

It's not easy to leave. It really isn't. I don't have mixed feelings, I don't have doubts or even worries (okay, maybe about actually getting the bags completely packed, but not about anything real), but I'm going to be sad to leave people. I'm going to have to say goodbye to my sister this morning. I don't want to do that. Tomorrow I will say goodbye to my beloved parents. Don't want to do that, either. And, of course, I will have to wave goodbye to my precious child. I can't even fathom that, yet. I don't even completely understand what that is even going to look like. My children, who absolutely adore one another, will have to be separated. It's horrible. I came in last night to find the girls sitting together, arms around one another. My children are close. They love one another deeply. Tomorrow is going to be rough. It's going to be hard. And there isn't any way to lessen that pain. But we'll get through it, and we'll all live the lives God has called us to live.

So what does that have to do with last night? Everything. You know what makes it easier to leave? I know that my church loves us. I know that they will take care of my parents. I know that they will love Sarah Beth. I know that her church in Arkansas will continue to wrap their arms around her as she returns. I know that her school, which has so many MKs attending, will continue to take care of our girl. None of what happens tomorrow can be done without those faithful prayers that will go out on our behalf. None of it. Like David's mighty men, those who showed up to fight, we have our own mighty men and women. You have carried us through dark times before with your prayers, and you will carry us through the dark days that are sure to come. You have faithfully lifted us up, and you will continue to do so. I know, because I have felt your faithfulness. I have felt your prayers. And I will feel them again. And there is great comfort in that.

And so, while 'thank you' feels and sounds so inadequate, it's all I have. Thank you. Thank you for loving us. Thank you for giving us a place to live and cars to drive. Thank you for writing recommendations for us. Thank you for loving our kids. Thank you for challenging us to be the people God intended us to be. Thank you for throwing us an Australian themed goodbye party and making us laugh. (And for the cake, which was DELICIOUS!!) Thank you for lining up to pray over us last night. Thank you for knowing how much I love Mary Engelbreit and Sharpie pens and bringing me gift bags full of them. Thank you for knowing me and thinking about me and remembering me. Thank you for holding up our arms when we can't possibly do it ourselves. Thank you for showing up and loving my family. We smile upon every remembrance of you. We really, really do.

It's time to do the final re-packing. Pray for us tomorrow. It will be a pretty hard day. But you know what? It'll be a joyful day, too. God has called, and we've been allowed to follow that call in a pretty awesome way. We love our life overseas. We love our friends and colleagues there. And we know that what God has for us there, while it may not be easy, will continue to be a front-row seat for His spectacular, awe-inspiring love for the nations. That's not a bad gig, is it? Wherever you are in the world, I pray you are thankful beyond words for the love that permeates your life, and that your bags are not going to have to be unpacked and repacked today. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Being consumed by God's fire

Our Sarah Beth...unbelievable to me that she's grown up!

Hannah on the cruise we took to the Bahamas this summer. We had such a good time!

John John at one of the churches we spoke at this summer. And yes, that is a Russian flag stuck in his hair. I've found it's better not to ask.

Therefore, since we receive a kingdom which cannot be shaken, let us show gratitude, by which we may offer to God an acceptable service with reverence and awe; for our God is a consuming fire. Hebrews 12:28-29

I know, I know. It's been a while. Too long, really. I've gotten some little reminders from several of you that it might be nice if I posted something. It's just that American life seems very busy, but I don't always have a lot to say about it. But of course, American life is coming to a close for me very quickly, at least for a while. In nine days, we leave for Austria, for a life we know but don't know, a place that we call home but have never seen. Hopefully, I'll have more to say there and find the time to write about it.

We have just returned from our appointment week. If you're not Southern Baptist--maybe even if you are--appointment week is where they bring all the new m's to one city, have a bunch of meetings, interview them one last time, and then commission them to go into the world. It is exciting, exhausting, and exhilarating. (The alliteration is just a little shout out to my pastor, Alan Floyd. He's the KING of alliteration.) There isn't really any way I can describe it to you. It's a very personal time, a very intimate time with the Lord and with others who are like-minded, whose passion is to go into the Nations with Christ's love. There is a good bit of laughing, but there are also many sobering moments when you count the cost of what you're agreeing to do. It's one thing to sign my life away, to sign Marc's away...but it's entirely another to put the names of our children on that line. We counted the cost of that a long time ago, and we know for sure that serving God is worth whatever price we must pay, but it's never a bad idea to think it through one last time before we step on the plane.

I read the verse above on the morning that we were going to be interviewed by the trustees for Europe that evening. As I was preparing for that meeting, that last interview in a long line of interviews and paperwork, I started thinking about how God called me. I think it's a very hard thing to describe to someone God's call on your life, because it's such a personal thing. And particularly to those who aren't believers, it is difficult to explain without confusing them with church speak. And while we've told the story of telling each other we were called, I knew that what the trustees would ask would be about my personal call to go overseas. As I formulated that response (I was correct, by the way. They did ask this precise question.), I thought about God being a consuming fire. I thought about that time in my life, not an unhappy or discontent time, but a restless time, when I knew that there was MORE. I didn't know what MORE might be, but I knew God had something in mind for me, for my family that wasn't like other people. And that was a confusing thing for me, because I know me. I am not special. I am not extraordinary. I'm just an ordinary wife and mother. What would the great God of Everything want with me?

It turns out that what He wanted was every bit of my life, every iota of my being. I'm still ordinary in every conceivable way, but He is extraordinary. Given half a chance, He consumes those He loves and makes them MORE. His lovingkindness, His mercy and grace are inconceivable blessings showered on all who allow Him into their lives. And that isn't just for me and my family. That's for everyone who believes and follows Him. No matter what you've done. No matter how lousy you think you are. No matter what secrets are hiding in your closet. Grace and mercy and peace beyond comprehension are yours for the claiming. That's news good enough to share, don't you think? It's news that has so radically changed my life that I'm not just willing to give up everything to share it, I'm glad to do so.

And that's what I told the trustees. I have to be honest--I was nervous going into the meeting, but it was a really sweet time for us. It's a story I never tire of telling. It's a story that will sustain me through some dark days that I'm sure lie ahead. It's certainly a story that has kept me warm through the dark Russian winter. The great God of Everything has given me--Kellye Hooks from Middleburg, Florida--a front row seat for how He is working around the world. I'll never get over it. Never.

Well, it's time to pack some more. We are making some serious headway, but there is still much to be done. Plus, we have goodbyes left to say, and that is never fun. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are living in awe of God's goodness and mercy to you, and that you don't have to reduce your life to suitcases. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Changing the world--one light at a time

These are scenes from my amazing time at Camp Worldlight, a missions camp for girls run by the Florida Baptist Convention. I spent a week at Lake Yale as the missionary in residence.

See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deception, according to the tradition of men, according to the elementary principles of the world, rather than according to Christ. Colossians 2:8

I need to issue two disclaimers before you read any further. First, I grew up Southern Baptist, which means I was a mission friend, a GA, and an Acteen. I have a deep belief in gender-specific missions education, deepened by my own experiences. Second, my oldest daughter, Sarah Beth, is a counselor at Camp Worldlight, and so I do not claim to be unbiased or objective about the camp. I'm not. I adore camp for many reasons, not the least of which is that it is having such an impact on my girl. If you can live with those things, read on!

I have many, many memories of GA camp at Windermere, the Baptist Assembly I grew up attending in Missouri. We also went to some kind of Sunday School training there--my parents were heavily involved for many years in Sunday School leadership--and I can very clearly remember riding the paddle boats with my Daddy. I can picture the cabins, the activities, the bugs, the scary storms that sometimes blew through...all are clear in my mind. But what is most clear is those young women who were my counselors. I cannot remember their names all these years later, but I can remember their faces, and I can certainly remember the impact they had on my life. Through Bible study, nature hikes, worship and late-night talks, they encouraged me to follow closely whatever it might turn out God had for my life. Whether I was to become a missionary, a teacher, a doctor, a nurse, or a housewife and mom made no difference--they told me clearly that God had a plan and purpose for my life, and that if I followed Him, my life would have meaning beyond my comprehension. I believed them, because I saw lived out in front of me what that kind of life meant. They were wonderful young women. They were loving and kind and funny and all about Jesus. And I didn't lack for female role models--beyond my many teachers and church workers, I also had my momma and my two older sisters. But there was something about those young women I saw only once a year, for a week in the summer, and the way they didn't change. They remained convinced that God had a special plan for them and for us, and they remained committed to living that out in front of us.

And that is what I loved so much about being Mrs. Kellye at Camp Worldlight this week--those beautiful, wonderful young women who have given their summer to influence girls for Christ. They are funny and silly, but also deeply committed to what Christ has for them and for the girls in their charge. They are loving but firm, and the girls are closely watched and cared for during their time at camp. It's made clear that there are rules to protect them from harm. We don't swim in the lake, because there are too many gators. (There really are. I saw them.) We follow the rules so that things run smoothly and everyone has a good time. We pray because God listens. We wear closed-toe shoes because the ants will eat us alive if we don't. We go to sleep because we want tomorrow to be just as good as today was. Wouldn't the world be a better place if ALL of our children had the opportunity to learn these things, instead of learning to throw a fit and get their way? And certainly, these are things parents should be teaching, but I can tell you from my own experience as a teacher that many parents are not teaching kids how to follow the rules. That's why parents call the school and complain when their kid is punished for something they did. They don't really believe in following the rules. Isn't it nice to know that somewhere out there, a place exists where the rules mean something? Where they are enforced?

But it isn't just that these beautiful young women are rule-enforcers that makes Camp Worldlight such an amazing place. It's also the unceasing focus on missions that makes it so special. Everything is about Christ, His purpose and plan for each girl, and about our responsibility to be involved in missions. Maybe you didn't grow up Southern Baptist. Maybe you are attending your very first Southern Baptist church, and they have some other kind of programming for children. But what makes us Southern Baptist is our belief that our greatest work as the church is missions--near and far, next door and across the ocean--and that together, we can do far more than we can do separately. That's why the Southern Baptist Convention's International Mission Board is the largest missions organization in the world. Our entire denomination is built around a foundation of going, telling, and making disciples. GAs and RAs teach that every week. And Camp Worldlight is all about missions. Ask a room full of IMB missionaries where and when they first thought about or made a commitment to be a missionary, and many, many of them will tell you it was at GA or RA camp. It's a place where girls can--without the distraction of boys--entertain the thought, maybe for the very first time, that God might be calling them to missions. Will they all become missionaries? Of course not. But some of them will. And Camp Worldlight will be the first step in that adventure.

I began by telling you I'm completely biased. And I am. I love GA camp. I loved it as a girl, I loved it when I was a camp counselor at Camp Nunny Cha-Ha in Oklahoma, and I love it as a missionary and as a mom. And I encourage you, if you have children who are the right age, to find a GA or RA camp where you live to send them to next summer. You will be amazed at what happens in their lives. In an age of Britney Spears and Lady Gaga filling girls' minds with who and what they are supposed to be, why wouldn't you want them to have a Brooklyn, an Amber, an Ellen, and yes, a Sarah Beth to speak God's truth into their lives? Why wouldn't you want a Mindy to show them that--just like on the high ropes--they are completely capable of doing anything God calls them to do? Why wouldn't you want them to see amazing women, like Anne, leading and being in charge? I can't think of a better gift to give girls. I honestly can't. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are giving your life to the only One who makes the moon reflect the sun, and that you, too, are headed to see the last Harry Potter movie this afternoon. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Waiting (and waiting and waiting) on God

Marc and I with Han at her school musical. I was very impressed with how good a junior high musical could be!

Han with Mimi and Poppy (my parents, for those who read this but don't know them). I am pretty sure they are enjoying every chance to be with the grandkids. :)

I will give thanks to You, O LORD, among the peoples, and I will sing praises to You among the nations. For Your lovingkindness is great above the heavens, and Your truth reaches to the skies. Psalm 108:3-4

As my entire house is still asleep except for me (I did sleep until 5:30--amazing for me!), I have time to finally post something about where we are headed when we return to the field. This post, my friends, has been a long time coming, and it has been an interesting faith journey for our family, because we have not known the place to which we would be returning until last week. So here's the story, not only of where we're going, but how God has used this uncertainty in our lives.

When we left the field last summer to return to the U.S., our understanding of our future was that we would be in Moscow. Our family serves on the Forward Communications Team of the European Peoples Affinity. (WOW! That's a mouthful.) Our team is spread all over Europe, living in the places where we work. So we have people in Germany, Spain, Czech Republic, and until recently, Ukraine. So we would be in Moscow, because Russia is our main area of service. (Our other responsibilities are with the European Diaspora Cluster, which is groups of Europeans outside of Europe, so there is not one main place where we serve that cluster.) We were fine with that, as you can imagine. If you spend five seconds with us, you're more than aware that we love Russia and Russians and people who speak Russian. Can't help it, we just do. So we were okay with Moscow. Not long after we returned to the States, the plan seemed to shift to putting us in Kiev, Ukraine, because our responsibilities were going to grow to include a good section of the former USSR, Ukraine included. (Have you gotten a good look at Ukraine on the map? Not a small place.) And we were okay with that, because we LOVE Kiev. Love it. Such a beautiful place, and no new language for us, and the people are honestly lovely and kind. So all was well for us if we were headed to Kiev. Then, about five months ago, the team started to talk about all coming together in one city. And that's when things got complicated.

We had the benefit of serving for a year on a church-planting team. There is something about being on a team with other people that is unbelievably beneficial when you're living someplace that is not your own. But then, as was planned, we transitioned into our "real" job with the Russia field. And that was a different business altogether. Not having a team in your city means that you can feel (it's a feeling, not the truth at all) like you are alone. We did enjoy our job when we only served the Russia field, but there was a sense of isolation from everyone else in the city, who were serving on teams, having team meetings, team dinners, team ministry projects. (The exception to this were our friends who serve the deaf affinity, who are also not on the city team.) So we had known both sides of the "team in the same city/no team in the city" equation. And we were honestly completely okay no matter what was decided. If the IMB put us together in one city, great--we love our team members. If the IMB didn't put us together and had us spread all over Europe, great--we'll dive in wherever they put us and make our way.

After some time of prayer and thinking and talking (and consulting with the IMB, of course), it was decided that our team would, indeed, come together in one city. And then things got REALLY complicated. Where do you put a team of five or six families? There was talk of several different places, with each place having benefits and negatives, too. Some families felt very strongly about one place, some another. But above all, we all wanted the place that God wanted for us. So in February, in a team meeting in Prague (Marc stopped there before heading on to Russia), the gathered team (minus spouses--lots of children on our team, and someone has to take care of them) prayed for the guidance of the Holy Spirit. And out of nowhere, with not a single team member having their eye on this particular city, came Vienna, Austria. When Marc sent me the list of the final four cities, and Vienna was on the list, I was dumbfounded. Shocked. Vienna?!?! Whose idea was Vienna? But as the team talked and prayed, and especially after three of the five wives on the team visited Vienna, we all began to believe that Vienna was the place. A great school, a city team who is excited about us coming, a language that one of the families already speaks fluently, and (for us) a desire by the strategy team for someone to minister to the large Russian-speaking population in Vienna were all benefits we could not have foreseen in a possible move to Vienna. We began to, very cautiously, be excited. When we got the news that Vienna was, indeed, the place...well, let's just say there was a little noise in the Hooks house. (Although Sarah Beth swears up and down that she will not be twirling around on the hills outside of the city when she visits. Spoil sport.) Lots and lots of rejoicing here, not only because Vienna is a beautiful city and a nice place to live, but also because it was clearly God's movement that placed us there.

If you know me even a little bit, you know that I am a planner. A serious, serious planner. Checklists are an every day thing for me, and they make me super happy. So you can imagine that months and months of uncertainty was...hmmm...a little discombobulating to me. (And yes, that's an actual word.) I wanted to know. I really, really wanted to know. But I didn't NEED to know. I felt like I needed to know, but that wasn't really the truth. What I needed to know was that God, not Kellye, was in control. And just before the meeting in Prague--in fact, Marc was on his way there when I came to this one morning--I realized in the midst of my daily time with God that it didn't really matter where we were. What mattered was our obedience to whatever God put in our path. I know from experience that God's absolute best for me is deeply rooted in obedience to His call and a belief in His never ending faithfulness to us as a family. And with that knowledge comes the strength to wait on Him. And His Word tells me clearly that those who wait on Him have their strength renewed. They walk without becoming tired. They have strength like the young. And those are all qualities I'm interested in having.

So we continue to wait on the Lord. We think we're headed back in September, but we don't know that for sure. We have some medical things to take care of before we head back. But we can wait with patience and endurance because we know whom we have believed, and we know that His faithfulness is beyond measure. Wherever you are in the world on this Good Friday, I pray that you are waiting on the One who loves you enough to die for you, and that you are so grateful that He didn't stay in that grave. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Dealing with Discouragement

The kids. I think they are on their way to John's basketball game with Mimi and Poppy.

Guess how we spent our spring break! (This is sand, by the way, not mud.)

Though the fig tree should not blossom and there be no fruit on the vines, though the yield of the olive should fail and the fields produce no food, though the flock should be cut off from the fold and there be no cattle in the stalls, yet I will exult in the LORD, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. Habakkuk 3:17-18

I have to be honest--it's been a discouraging week. Nothing terrible has happened, but it has been one of those weeks that felt like we were walking backwards in our quest to return to the field as career missionaries. Ever felt that way? You clear one hurdle to find another three in your path. That's the way this week has felt. And as we have consistently made the choice to look on the bright side, to trust God, to refuse to be discouraged, it seems like the little frustrations keep coming. I want it to stop. I don't want to feel frustrated. I don't want to feel discouraged. And I definitely don't want my children to be frustrated and discouraged.

But that's not reality, is it? Sometimes, no matter what we do, no matter how much we choose to trust and obey, there are things beyond our control. One of those things is the behavior of other people. And to some extent, another of those things is our health. Now, I can make all the right choices, I can exercise daily, eat very few carbs, drink enough water to sustain a camel for months, but there are certain things about my health that I cannot control. Marc has high cholesterol. He's been on cholesterol medicine for a decade, because his doctor looked at the genetic factors and knew it was always going to be a problem for him. We eat basically the same food, and my cholesterol is pretty much that of a child. Is it because I'm trying harder? No. I simply have some excellent genetic factors. My people are long-lived and generally healthy. (But don't get me started on the hips I inherited from my father's side of the family. Ugh.) I can make every right choice, I can have good genes, but I cannot control everything about my health, any more than I can control how other people behave. So what's a girl to do with those little frustrations and discouragements? And what's a mom to do when those frustrations and discouragements are coming in the life of a child?

I'm choosing praise. I have to tell you what I told one of the kids this week--praising God in every situation is not always what I feel like doing. I am human, and when someone or some situation discourages and hurts one of my kids or Marc--my first reaction is a very human one. I want to make a biting remark. I want to hurt whomever or whatever has hurt someone I love. But you know what? That's not who I am in Christ. That's who I am in Kellye. And I want to work out of the strength and power afforded me by being His child. I want to love others--no matter how they behave. I want to be positive in difficult situations. I want to walk over the obstacles in my path with confidence born of knowing my Redeemer and trusting Him with my whole life. But it's a choice I must daily make--to die to who I am in Kellye and to live as who I am in Christ. And though it's not always an easy choice, it's one I always benefit from making, if only because I know Him just a little bit more.

I'm also choosing an attitude of thankfulness. (I wanted so badly to say attitude of gratitude. I love a good rhyme.) What do I have to complain about when God has blessed me so abundantly? An incredible marriage, a close relationship with my extended family, an amazingly close relationship with my children, a great church, wonderful friendships here and all over the world, a job working with people I truly love, teaching a subject I really love...blessings all mine, with ten thousand besides. I'm incredibly grateful for the adults who have chosen to invest in the lives of my kids--youth pastors and volunteers and chaplains and teachers who have made a huge impact on their lives. And I'm really thankful for those relationships in their lives with their peers that are encouraging and replenishing to them, that encourage them to be the people God created them to be. And you know what? Those relationships far outweigh the momentary troubles of other relationships. God has been amazingly good to us.

So today, even though nothing has changed about my frustrating, discouraging week, I am making the choice to not get caught up in that, to not focus on those little things, and to focus instead on the amazing God I serve and the incredible ways in which He daily makes my life worth living. And along the way, I pray I'm teaching my kids to do the same. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are choosing to praise Him no matter your frustrations, and that you are headed to the fair with your kids today, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

What I have...and what I don't

John and Han on the way to John's basketball game. So cute!

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9

So….I don’t have breast cancer. Yes, I know. You didn’t know it was a possibility. Or at least 99% of you who will read this didn’t know. About two weeks ago, on a Friday, I got a call from the imaging center where I’d done my mammogram two days before. They needed to schedule me for a second set of pictures and, maybe, an ultrasound. When I asked exactly what that meant, the voice on the phone said, “The radiologist sees something on your mammogram that he doesn’t like.” Oh, well…NOW I feel comforted. J So I scheduled the appointment for this past Tuesday, which was the first time they could get me in. I went in, had the second set of pictures done, was told the radiologist still saw something he didn’t like, and then had an ultrasound done. Finally, after a pretty scary hour of going back and forth with nurses and technicians, the ultrasound technician came and told me I as free to go. It turned out to be dense tissue instead of the mass the radiologist thought he was seeing. And so, with great joy and exultation, I went home, satisfied that this particular trial wasn’t going to be mine.

So why didn’t I tell anyone? Well, my first response was to have every single person I knew praying. But after some thought, I decided not to do that. First of all, most of the important people in my life had something going on in their own lives, with daughters and sons and fathers having all kinds of real problems, and they didn’t need one more thing to worry about. And if I wasn’t going to tell those people, then I really couldn’t tell anyone else, could I? My parents knew, but only because they asked a direct question that I could not avoid. (I can’t lie to my parents. It’s a rule. So I tried being evasive. They were having none of that.) But consideration for others going through hard circumstances wasn’t my only reason for not saying anything. In fact, it wasn’t even the biggest reason. Mostly, I wanted to test God. Not in the sense of testing to see if He loved me enough for it not to be cancer. I know many people who God loves very much who have been through various forms of cancer, some making it through and some having ultimate healing. So it wasn’t that. It was more about testing what God can do in my life in terms of my own attitudes and worries if I will just 100% surrender to Him. And it turns out, given the invitation to do so, God will take my worries and change my attitudes completely.

If you know me at all, you know that I can easily become worried and nervous about circumstances beyond my control. I can work myself—and everyone around me—into a pretty good tizzy given half a chance. And this was certainly something unexpected and completely out of my control. But I knew that I had to be calm. For one thing, there wasn’t anything to be “un-calm” about, yet. Only the possibility of it. And I was also faced with the daunting task of finding out on Friday and speaking Saturday night, Sunday morning and Sunday night in three different churches, one of which was my own. If I was going to stand up in front of people and talk about how big, good and faithful God is, then I had to be calm. And I also had to mean it. If I had an attitude asking why God would do something like this to me—and yes, I realize that’s faulty theology, but I think it’s a pretty natural first place to land—then I couldn’t stand in front of people and talk about His goodness. What is a worrier to do in this kind of circumstance?

Well, this worrier prayed. And to be honest, not over and over. Not every day. And not for it not to be cancer. Because if cancer is a road I’m going to have to travel, then it is what it is. No, I didn’t beg God or make deals with Him. Instead, I simply prayed that next morning for peace. If God is who He says He is, then peace in the midst of a storm is mine for the claiming as His child. And it wasn’t necessary for me to pray again and again for the same thing. I didn’t pray about it again until the day of the second appointment. You know why? Because I didn’t much think about it again. And I had the very real sense that God was there. He was with me when I got the call. He was with me when it crossed my mind. He was with me in the waiting room. He was with me when the technician looked at the images and frowned. He was with me as I waited for word from the ultrasound. And He was with me when I found out good news. He is with me wherever I go. And that means He is with me in whatever circumstances I face. My sorrow breaks His heart. My joy brings a smile to His face. I am His beloved. And I am never, never alone.

So what if the results had been different? Actually, that’s what I was prepared for. I only shed a couple of tears when they told me it wasn’t anything, and that was because I was so calm if it was something. J That doesn’t mean, of course, that I was anything short of absolutely thrilled to learn it was nothing. I wasn’t going in search of a fight, trust me. But I know for certain that if a fight was to be had, I would not fight alone. And that, my friends, is the peace that passes all understanding. Wherever you are in the world today, I pray that you are finding His peace in the midst of your own storm, and that you are about to have breakfast with 150 moms and daughters, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,

Kellye