To Han, Nan, Hannachka, Hannah Jane...on your sixteenth birthday

My beautiful girl with her Momma

At Krasnaya Polyana, Sochi, Russia

With her much-beloved Aunt Dalese in front of Stephansdom in Vienna

Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised. Proverbs 31:30

Darling Hannah,

Sixteen. Unbelievable. Yesterday, you were the baby who roamed Ridgeview High sucking her two middle fingers. Today, you're sixteen. The little girl who, when the fire alarm went off at daycare, said, "Don't worry, it's just a dwill. Fowwow me," has seen a good bit of the world, experienced some 'normal' stuff, and so far, lived a pretty extraordinary life in some of God's most beautiful places. The girl who told us, upon our arrival in Moscow, that it was time to go home, has become the girl who always reminds us, "But we're called. We can't go back." Sixteen. Wow.

We are very proud of you, Daddy and I. You often amaze us just by being you.  Of the five of us, Han, you have been sifted by God the most. Everyone has had their struggles on the field, and certainly, we've all learned a great deal. But you have spent some very, very unhappy time overseas, and yet--amazingly--you remain a pretty optimistic person. It is the thing in you that is most like your Daddy and least like me. Your view of people, your lack of cynicism, your love for the underdog...those are not qualities you got from your Momma. You inspire great loyalty in people, deep love and affection, and I think it's your genuine kindness that makes people so attached to you. You make me kinder by reminding me that everyone has their troubles, and that we have to really feel for people.  I'm not a feeler, but you are. I love that about you.

I love your heart for the lost. I've watched you weep at the lostness around you. I've literally watched you put your head on the table and sob for beloveds who do not know your Jesus. That heart, the one that is so attuned to see the world through the lens of how much they need Jesus--that heart is being prepared for something. I don't know what it is. I really don't. But when you sobbed over the call to prayer in Turkey, I knew then...God has something for you that He is, even now, tuning your heart for, making it softer and softer toward those He loves dearly, but who do not know Him. I'd be lying if I said that didn't scare me a little. For the first time, I think, I understand how hard it is to be on the other side of this equation--the parent who sends a much-beloved child into the unknown darkness. But I trust Him, Han, even with you and your brother and sister. I see daily how much He loves you. I know His plan for you is perfect and better than mine, which involves you marrying a nice man, having 2.5 lovely children, and living next door to me for the rest of your life. He loves you enough to prepare you diligently for what is ahead in your life. And I trust Him to do that.

I love that you are not afraid to be honest with God. I didn't learn that quality at your age, that truth for my life. I tried to make God think I had it all together. But you don't. You question. You push Him a little, knowing that He loves you and can handle the big questions. What is He doing? You've asked me--and Him--that more than once in the last two years. And I think the answer you are coming to, when that question seems unanswerable, is that you don't know, but you know Him. You know how good and faithful and loving He is, how just and holy and righteous. But you don't seem Him as the 'big guy in the sky' with His finger on the button if you displease Him. We have all learned this truth--trouble, hard times...these are not signs of the displeasure of our God. You KNOW Him, Han. At sixteen, that's a pretty amazing thing.

So, darling Hannah, on your sixteenth birthday, here is my prayer for you: That you would know how deep the Father's love is for you. That you would follow Him all the days of your life. That you would know that your outer beauty is nothing in comparison to your inner beauty--your kind heart, your gentle soul, your love for mankind. And yes, I pray that somewhere out there, God is preparing some wonderful young man who is going to think all the things about you that are silly and funny and quirky are adorable, that he is going to fall in love with you, marry you, and lead you to follow God wherever He leads. I pray that you always look at hard times, bad situations, and mean people and say to yourself, "Well...someday this will make a good story." Because what you have learned at sixteen, and what will only grow in your life as you mature, is that God doesn't waste hardship or trouble, that He really does work all things together for the good of those who love Him, that He makes all things new, and that these light and momentary troubles are producing something beautiful--in your life and in your heart. Someday, Han, all these things really will be a great story...a story about what God can do in a young woman's life when she is completely, fully, unashamedly, radically in love with her Savior. That's the story He is writing in your life, Han. And while sometimes it's hard to watch Him write that story, sometimes it's super painful to watch you go through what don't seem very light or momentary troubles, it's also a privilege to watch you grow into the person He created you to be. It's an amazing honor to be your Momma. I'm so glad God chose me for you.

I love you more than life, darling girl. I could not be prouder of you.

Happy birthday!
Momma

Learning to unclench my fist

I haven't uploaded my Turkey pics, yet, so I thought I'd share this sweet one of Han and Marc in the mountains at Krasnaya Polyana, Russia.

Han is a big help to her Dad, because--like all my kids--she has gotten some of his gifts for all things media. Here she is taping a greeting from him for the Engage Sochi project.

For whatever was written in earlier times was written for our instruction, so that through perseverance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. Romans 15:4

It's a quiet morning here in Vienna. Marc is in Moscow, the kids are still asleep, and it's pouring snow on this cold April morning. WHAT?!?! What happened to Spring? I guess we left it in Turkey. Speaking of Turkey--what a wonderful week we spent there. We started with great Engage Sochi team meetings (minus one family--they should be on the ground in Russia soon), where we not only got a lot done, but also had great time together. We adore our Engage Sochi teammates. Honestly. I'm not just saying that to be nice. We really love them and treasure them. It may honestly be one of the best combinations of personalities ever. We can talk, disagree, hash things out, discuss, disagree some more--but always with a deep love for one another, for Jesus, and for the city we are all so focused on right now. What a treasure that is. What a true gift. We went from great team time to great time with the wider group of friends who came together. Yes, we had great preaching and teaching and worship time together, but we also just had fun. We're grateful for our friends from Russia and elsewhere, not just for their encouragement and kindness to us, but also for the really great times of laughter and story-telling and more laughter. If you have those kinds of friends, you know how wonderful they are. I pray that you do have those kinds of friends in your life--people who 'get' you on deep levels, but like you, anyway. :) We are blessed. Truly, truly blessed.

There were many great pieces of wisdom to take away from our time together. We have been the recipients of so much great preaching and teaching in our time overseas, and this was certainly one of the best meetings we've been to in that regard. What was interesting to me was how many people seemed to be in the same place, needing the same teaching or encouragement or challenge. The preaching centered on the Psalms, and not just the 'happy' Psalms, but also the ones that are full of weakness and discouragement and woe. (I love the word 'woe.' I know that makes me a nerd, but isn't it a great word? Really. Nothing else describes woe like woe.) In a difficult season, I can't think of anything more encouraging than knowing that weakness isn't a disqualification for ministry. God calls the weak, because in my weakness, His power and glory are certainly magnified. In a difficult season, the admonition that today is not a snapshot of how the rest of your life is going to be, not something to hang on the wall as a done deal--truly, truly meaningful. The idea that the only spiritual discipline is abiding in Jesus--challenging to this checklist girl, for whom it's so easy to think my quiet time is something to get done and is the fulfillment of my spiritual disciplines. But resting as a spiritual discipline? Trusting God? OUCH.

So lots and lots of great things to take away from our time in Turkey, things I'm still mulling and coming to terms with and trying to apply to my daily faith journey. But nothing made more of an impact on me than something said in a private conversation. I'm a metaphor girl. I understand the world in terms of metaphors, and they often speak to me in a way that means more to me in my soul than just the words with which they are constructed. And I am married (thank heavens!) to the king of the metaphor. Marc often helps me understand things by describing them in metaphors. As we were talking to friends who have really invested in us, who know us and have taken the time to know us, who really care about us, the husband clearly described what, for me, is the hardest thing in my life--spiritually--right now. He said that it seemed to him that our challenge was raising our hands to God in an act of sacrifice and submission and not with a clenched fist. I almost jumped up and shouted, "YES!!! THAT'S IT!!!" Now, of course, the hard part is not necessarily identifying the challenge but actually doing it. How do you--in a season of hard stuff--open your hand to whatever is in God's plan, even when you don't understand it??

I don't know about you, but I am at a point in my life when I understand (finally!) that nothing is hidden from God. There was a time when my prayer journal was flowery and pretty, and made me look really 'spiritual.' Not necessarily because I thought anybody would ever read them, but because I wanted God to think He hadn't made a mistake in calling me to this life. I wanted Him to feel like His investment in my life was worthwhile. Those days are over. My prayer journal does not make me look very good, sometimes. In fact, it exposes the ugliness of my soul quite often. There are many days when the gist of my prayer is, "C'mon, God! Give me a break!" Because the truth is--He already knows what a mess I am without Him. I'm broken. I'm a cracked jar of clay. (And sometimes a crackpot. Hahahahaha....oh, I love a pun.) There is NOTHING in me that is hidden from Him. But here, I think, is the secret to unclenching my fist: He knows me, and He loves me beyond my comprehension, anyway. He knows me. He loves me. He has never left me. He will never leave me. He loves Marc, Sarah Beth, DJ, Hannah and John more than I will ever be able to love them...and I love them with everything in me. His plan for me, for us, is rooted in that love. There is nothing about His plan that is cruel or unkind or unloving. Nothing. Even the stuff I don't get. Rooted in His love for us, love that turned its back on the throne of Heaven and its face toward the Cross. Willingly and knowingly and with me and mine on His heart, He died. And yes, Easter is wonderful because Sunday arrives, and He walks out of that tomb, and He saves the whole world. But on Friday, when He willingly gives up His life for me in a brutal, horrible death He did not deserve but I did--He paints a picture for me and my metaphor-loving heart that says, "This. This is how much I love you. I will never leave you. I will never forsake you. I choose death out of My deep, deep love for you. You can trust Me." Recognizing this kind of love, knowing it is for me (and you and the whole world)...it seems to me that this is how I unclench my fist, raise it toward Him and trust. No matter what emotions say. No matter how much I miss Sarah Beth, or how much I worry about my parents, or how much I want my children to be happy.

I want you to think well of me. I want you to think I have it all together. So sharing my struggles and being as transparent as I can in such a public forum is hard for me. But I know this for sure--I'm not the only one who struggles with this. I'm not the only one in a rough season. And if you're not in a rough season, hold on, because it's coming. Because our life is made up of hills and valleys and plateaus and moments of great joy and moments of great grief. That is what it is to be human. But in His lovingkindness, He has given us proof everywhere of how much He loves us, what a treasure we are to Him. Sometimes it's just the beauty of His creation, signs of a loving Father who pleasures in surrounding us with beauty. Sometimes it's one less stress in life, knowing that He enables us to get through stuff we aren't able to do on our own. Sometimes it's a group of friends at Burger King, telling stories and laughing and reveling in being together, even if it is once a year. Sometimes it's a friend who quietly loves, who quietly puts a hand on your shoulder, who whispers in your ear, "It's not a snapshot to frame." But always, it takes a willing heart to recognize that all those things are God's blessings. They aren't chance or coincidence or karma. They are a loving Father who knows what I need at any given moment, and happily provides it for me. I hope and pray that's an encouragement to you in your season of difficulty or sunshine, whether you're in a sunny beach season or it's pouring snow all around you. He's there. I promise He is.

Well, Hannah is up and needing attention. Both my kids came back from Turkey with sore throats, and she is running a fever and feeling terrible this morning. Urgh. But she is looking forward to this weekend, when her sweet friend visits, and I'm looking forward to time with our guests, too. More blessings from the kindness of the Father's heart. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are looking for the ways God is encouraging your heart, and that it's NOT snowing where you are. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Life Lessons from my Wii Fit

No reason...I just like this picture with my man. :)

But I do not consider my life of any account as dear to myself, so that I may finish my course and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify solemnly of the gospel of the grace of God. Acts 20:24

I'm going to be up front and honest--I've been up since 2am, when a dream about ants in the closet woke me up with a start, so there's a real possibility that nothing I'm about to say will make any sense. And I don't know why I think my Wii Fit is funny, but I do. I exercise every morning, and there are some things about it that tickle me. And yesterday, while I was sweating away (before I get to my favorite, the snow ball fight, in which I knock oh-so-many of my beloveds right over with a perfectly aimed snowball), I got to thinking about some real life applications that can be made from my Wii Fit. So here you go, for your edification, and perhaps, entertainment.

1. You have to face reality. Once again, I am dealing with my weight. Let's face it, since I turned 20, I have always been dealing with my weight. But this time, for once, I'm trying to do it the right way. I am following Weight Watchers, which is very, very slow, but also steady. It is not quick. I would like it to be quick. But all the quick ways to lose weight and get fit don't work over the long haul. Because let's face it--I'm not going to give up bread forever and always. I love a potato more than I should. To completely cut those things out may take off the weight for the wedding (I do not want to be the fat grammy in 10 years in the wedding pics), but I'll put it right back on when I come back to Austria, land of the bread. (Seriously, I'm fairly certain the Alps are actually constructed out of delicious Semmel/rolls.) So, I can click the button to ignore the weighing in every week, or I can take the plunge and see how I've done. Then, I can face reality. I lost a couple of pounds. Or I gained a pound. I always know why. But I have to face reality and then deal with it.

2. On the other hand, you also have to ignore the little voice that says, "Oh!" when you step on. I hate that little cutesie voice. I really do. If you have a Wii Fit, you know the voice. It says, "Step on," and then sometimes, it says, "Great!" But then, there are those other times, when it says, "Ooooohhh..." You know, like ooooooohhhhh, how many scoops of ice cream did you eat? Or oooooohhhhh, do you need some help stepping up on the balance board with all that girth? I hate that voice. Because really, I have that voice in my head all the time. No matter how thin or heavy I am, that voice is at work. And you know what, I (and you!) need to kill that voice. Because that voice is not the voice of God. It's not. I know for sure. Any voice that criticizes everything about me, that tells me that how people feel about me is contingent on how I look or how much I weigh...nope, that's not my Maker. That's my enemy. Because that voice, when listened to, just makes me want to give up. And my God, friends, is not the God of giving up.

3. I get by with a little help from my friends. Some of you, unbeknownst to you, are characters on my Wii Fit. Yep. You're there with me every morning, cheering me on. Some of the folks doing step aerobics with me are the weird characters John created--my personal favorite is the guy who not only has a unibrow, but also has the misfortune of having a face that's upside down. (That isn't supposed to be any of you, just so you know.) But I find those little characters encouraging and funny. They make me smile. And I appreciate that they get up with me at weird times of the day/night and exercise. Because no actual person wants to do that at 3am.

4. It's all about my family. When I get on the Wii Fit every morning, my family shows up with me. There we are, all five of us. In fairness, the other four are often bent over snoozing, a little joke the Wii likes to make because it's sometimes really early. (And my character, left to her own devices, likes to turn around, look at her backside, and then put her hand over her mouth in distress. Not cool, Wii Fit. Not cool.) But they all wake up and help me along. They all show up for step aerobics, or they run on the course with me (sometimes, one of them is my guide who runs in front), or they toss me hula-hoops, or they do kung-fu with me. But all in all, they show up. Even my mom and dad show up and cheer me on (or take a snowball or two in the face--they're troopers). And in the end, isn't that the reason to lose weight and be healthier? Yes, I want to be the best me I can be, and I can hear somebody out there wanting to empower me to want things for myself, etc. But really, at the end of the day, for me it's all about them.

5. Life is a course we run. I'd like to run it well, just like He set it out for me. There's a lot about a Wii Fit running course that is very similar to life. There are hills and valleys, there are some weird characters along the way, and there are some really unexpected turns. But the finish line is always marked with arrows and this thing that hovers over it like a tornado. You always know where you're headed. I can't always see exactly where I'm going at any given moment, but the end of my race--whenever it comes--is clearly marked. He has a path set out for me, and He lets me know along the way which way to turn. My job is to do it. And when I don't--when I think there's a shortcut that'll get me some place faster--I very often end up flying over a cliff into the water. And that's never good, my friends. Never.

Well, my friends, time to turn the Wii Fit on, step on, ignore the voice, and do a little kung fu fighting and step aerobics. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are running your race well, and that you are about to see some folks you really, really love, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Love song for my firstborn

My oldest...I can't believe she's 21 today!

With her soon-to-be last initial

Love these two--could not have asked for a better guy for our 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

Here's what you need to know up front: I never saw myself as a wife and mother before I became one. I was not the little girl who dreamed about her wedding or about having a flock of children. (Okay, sometimes I pretended to be Maria von Trapp, but that was mostly about the twirling and the singing.) So when I found out I was expecting a baby, I wasn't quite sure about how I was going to be as a Mom. Of the two of us, Marc is the feeler. He's compassionate. He's much kinder and gentler than I am. I can be a bit intense and austere. (That's putting it nicely.) But then, as time went by, especially after I got over morning sickness (which lasted all day--poor Marc ate many, many meals on the porch), I got pretty excited about the mommy thing, mostly because I discovered--as I think most women can attest to--a fierceness and protectiveness I did not know I had in me. And when, seven months into the pregnancy, my OB took my blood pressure and uttered a curse word, when we discovered that, out of the blue, something was really, really wrong...that fierceness went into overdrive. It kept me together through two months in the hospital, two months lying on my left side, two months of poking and prodding and general humiliation--all in the name of getting our little girl into the world. And when she was born by emergency c-section, when they brought her in with her little jiffy-pop hat on from the NICU...Oh, my. As Han would say, all the feels...they were overwhelming. I discovered within myself a kind of deep, core love that I didn't even know I was capable of. There was this tiny, tiny human being who was solely dependent on us...God bless her...and who trusted us...for some reason I could not discern. Even when I didn't know to take the pins out of her little dress that we took her home in, even when I actually drew blood by poking her with said pins trying to get them out, even when I accidentally clipped part of her little tiny finger when attempting fingernail trimming...she still just looked at me with those beautiful eyes and smiled. (After the howling in pain, of course.) What love was this? How could I bear for anything bad to ever happen to her? EVER?!?!?! And so began a love affair of the heart that continues to this day.

Of my three children, Sarah Beth is the most like me. While John and Hannah are extroverts like Marc, Sarah Beth is an introvert like her Momma. She is the one who most understood why I needed to shut the kitchen door in our Moscow apartment every night in order to be away from everyone. She is passionate about those she loves, and will defend them against any who would do them harm. She is our tiniest girl--I'm pretty sure John will tower over her by the time we get to her wedding this summer--but she's a mighty mouse...seriously, don't mess with her. When someone does something bad to the other two, somebody always says, "If they don't watch out, I'm calling Sarah Beth." She is an incredible big sister, loving her siblings passionately, wanting what is best for them, calling them out when they are being silly about something, happy when something goes right. And, of course, she is deeply in love with her DJ, preparing for marriage, looking forward to the time that he will be in Arkansas with her. She, like her momma before her, is marrying her best friend, someone with whom she will have lots of fun, someone who makes her laugh--a very important quality in a husband. (Sometimes, Marc just dances around the apartment to pull me out of a blue mood...not much funnier than that!!) She has always been a person who sees beyond the artificial and superficial, who roots for the 'little guy,' who is able to see the good in people.  She is a justice-seeker, a person for whom 'fair' is important, someone who passionately loves things as diverse as comic books and figure skating...just a really unique, interesting person.

When we went to Russia, Sarah Beth was 15 years old. She gave up a 'normal' high school experience and headed off into the great unknown with us. When our candidate consultant met with her to determine if this was going to be something she could handle, I'll never ever forget the tears falling on her skirt as she said, "I don't want to go. But I know we're supposed to go." In Moscow, she was basically fearless. She would get on the metro and just go places in the city, and then come back with some snippet of Russian she had learned. She went to Uganda and worked in an orphanage for her spring break. She, along with the rest of us, learned a lot about suffering, about giving people the right to be who they are, about loving people even when they don't act the way they should. She graduated and went back to the States before us, because at 18, she had to learn to drive a car. She had to relearn how to be an American girl. And sometimes, that wasn't as easy as it sounds. She had to figure out how to deal with the American church (much different from our overseas fellowships), how to not be freaked out by Walmart (that's harder than you think), how to be in the States and thrive. And she basically did that on her own. We lived in Florida her first year of college, and then we left her on one continent and moved to another. (By the by--the hardest thing I've ever done, and I've done some hard stuff in my time.) And while she doesn't know much about our lives in Austria, which are incredibly different from our lives in Russia and Czech Republic, she is always supportive and encouraging as we try to navigate these waters. She has grown into a young woman who is talented (her design skills definitely come from Marc), whose future looks incredibly bright, a young woman of whom we are so proud.

So happy birthday to my firstborn, who taught me to take the pins out of clothes, to laugh harder than I thought possible, and to love people where they are. I'm so glad God chose me to be your Momma, Madre, Momma J in the morning, Ma...and any of the fifteen other names you call me. I love you more than my own life, more than words, more than cats, more than anything except Jesus and your Daddy and the two Chebums. You are, indeed, God's workmanship, and I cannot wait to see what good works He has designed especially for you.

Love you--Momma

I'm Loving the Lists

My tall, voice-changing, gentle-hearted John.

My sweet man and our sweet Tash. Yes, she does sit like that.

Darling, in love, soon-to-be bride--our beautiful Sarah Beth.

The Nan...amazing, beautiful, growing-up-way-too-fast Hannah.

O LORD, You are my God; I will exalt You, I will give thanks to Your name; for You have worked wonders, plans formed long ago, with perfect faithfulness. Isaiah 25:1

I know, I know...it's been a while. Quite a while, in fact. Sorry about that. Life has been...not boring at all, lately, and that has left me with little time, and frankly, little desire to try to organize my thoughts in a way that even resembles logic. So I've taken a little break. But this morning, as I eat my breakfast in snowy Vienna (what?!?! where did spring go??), a breakfast which includes cauliflower I've tried to convince myself is like grits, I thought I'd take a little time to check in and share what's going on in our lives here. (The cauliflower isn't bad, by the way--but it's also not fooling my tastebuds into thinking they've had grits. Oh, well.) In a lot of ways, I don't have much to tell. We leave next week for a break with friends, and we're looking forward to that a great deal. We're wedding planning from 3,000 miles away, and that's interesting and also really fun. I have to say for Sarah Beth--we definitely do not have a Bridezilla. She has the dress, and she has the man. The rest of it could be at Taco Bell, and she'd be fine. (That's a quote, by the way. From her.) So the wedding hasn't been causing us a ton of stress. Sarah Beth has been quite ill, and that is stressful, as all my friends in this part of the world can attest--overseas living with small kids is hard, terribly hard--but overseas living when the family is split and one (or more) is back in the States...also very, very hard. So whether you're having and raising babies overseas or watching your babies have and raise babies a world away--nothing about any of that is easy. But that's life, right? What are the chances, if we lived in the States, that all of our children would stay in the same place and raise all their children ten minutes away? Pretty slim, I think. My parents have only lived near my kids for a long period of time, but have managed to be great grandparents in spite of distance. I see a lot of my friends doing an incredible job of grandparenting from this side of the ocean. So it can be done. It's just hard.

In fact, in general, isn't life hard? I don't know anybody who is breezing by in life. Honestly, even the people who really have it together find life difficult, sometimes. Sometimes, we get to be in a season that's easier, and sometimes we're in a season that's more difficult, but we're never in a season that is trouble-free, are we? (If you are, and you know how you made that happen, please email me the secret, because I would love some easy.) For us, this is a season of more difficult. We have not had tons of great stuff in the last two years, and we've had quite a bit of not great stuff. And a lot of our not great stuff has involved our kids, which makes it even more difficult to handle. Add onto that parents whose health has not been great seemingly since the moment we stepped on Viennese soil, and other issues that just come up, and it's a recipe for bitterness. Right? Because wouldn't it be easy to turn to God and say, "Hey! I gave up this and this and this for You. How about cutting me some slack?!?!" And that precise moment, that moment of real anger when we don't understand what He's doing, that is the moment He gives us lists.

Maybe lists don't speak to your soul the way they do to mine. I have three (yes, THREE) calendars that I keep daily in my flat. I have an index card for every day (I do use them front and back), and each day comes with the things that must get done that day, the things that need to get done that day, and the things I'd like to get done that day. I love lists. I have a deep, core need for organization, and lists definitely speak to that need. So, when I come upon a list in the Bible, as I did this morning in Joshua 12, I actually read the lists. I actually read the lists of names in the gospel accounts of Jesus' life. Deep in those lists, I find a lot about God that speaks to me in this season of not-so-great.

In Joshua 12, in the list of who Joshua and the Israelites defeated, there isn't any new news. In other words, if we read the account of their war with their neighbors and those who would keep them from the Promised Land in Joshua 6-12, we already know who they defeated. But it seems to me the purpose of that list is a little different from just a journalistic account of what happened. If you read Joshua, you know that the Israelites taking the Promised Land as their own, as God promised them, was nothing short of a miracle. It was a God-sized task. It was something only He could accomplish. And He did. In big, amazing ways. He made the sun stand still. Seriously. Read it. He did. In the Israelites' weakness and complete reliance on Him, He does what He always does when we are faithful--He showed Himself mighty. (They also have moments of real stupidity, so don't get to thinking this is about the Israelites being super-perfect followers.) The end of Joshua 12, the list of all those who have been defeated, is another reminder that He alone can rescue and save. He alone can defeat the enemies. He alone gives Jericho to His chosen. He alone is God.

And Matthew 1? The seventeen verses that begin the New Testament can easily seem the worst possible way to start Jesus' story on earth. Where is the hook for the reader? How can anyone be drawn in by a list of names and generations? But God is doing something important in those verses, isn't He? In that list of names, of generations, of who begat whom...is the ultimate Promise Keeper. When He said He would not leave nor forsake, when He said He would bring the Messiah, when He promised to rescue and be a strong tower...He wasn't just talking. He did exactly what He said He would do. And He did it through some pretty surprising choices. Rahab? Aka Rahab the Harlot? In the lineage of Jesus. Ruth? A foreigner? In the lineage of Jesus. Bathsheba? Adultress? In the lineage of Jesus. The list of people God chose to work through in order to work His will, His incredible plan for saving us were not perfect. In fact, they were far from it. Sinners one and all. Not a perfect one in the bunch. But He used them, anyway. He chose them, anyway. Just like He chooses the sinful and imperfect and messed up, broken jars of clay, to follow where He leads. Because in the broken and sinful and messed up, He is shown to be what He is: mighty, all-powerful, amazing, awesome.

So what does that have to do with a season of not-so-great? He's still at work. He's still doing things, things I cannot predict, things so far beyond me that I couldn't even think to ask for them. He's doing stuff that only He can do, that only He can dream up, that only He can understand. I don't know what He's doing, but I do know this for sure: He's doing. He's at work in the mundane, in the hard, in the wedding planning, in the hard stuff that touches our kids...He's doing something big. And because I have my own lists of things He's done, hard times He's brought us through, and blessings that He continues to shower on me and mine that we clearly don't deserve, I can trust Him. It might not be the easiest thing to do, but it's possible. Because He is who He is. He does not change. He never gives up on His own, no matter how broken we feel. He is faithful. And in a season of not-so-great...He is enough.

Well, time to exercise. Aerobic boxing is the choice for this morning, since I'm not wild about walking in the snow. Plus, of course, I have a notecard with a list of stuff to get done today, so I'd better get going on that. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you have lists of the many ways the Father has been faithful to you, too, and that it's not snowing where you live. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

What true love is really waiting for

Sarah Beth and her sweet DJ

The Han and John John

Me and my sweet man

Watch over your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life. Proverbs 4:23

Ah, Valentine's Day. Marc and I celebrated last night--I made him his favorite homemade pizza, and we watched tv shows on our DVR in Texas. Sarah Beth flew home to Florida last night to celebrate with her DJ--a gift from us to them for Christmas. It makes me smile to think of them together--their sweetness to one another is smile-inducing, to say the least. What Momma doesn't want to see her child happy in love? It's a new season, a different season, but it's certainly a sweet season. And with an almost-16-year-old daughter and an almost-12-year-old son in the house, we certainly are thinking--A LOT--about love. (If you want to know how to successfully flip your hair or the importance of brushing your tongue in order to be more attractive to the ladies, by the way--John John is the guy to talk to. OH, MY!!) Put that together with the news that True Love Waits--an abstinence program from the nineties--is coming back into 'vogue' with churches, and it got me to thinking about what true love is really waiting for in the end.

I have a secret for every teenaged boy who is wondering what in the world girls are interested in: look at their facebook page. If you go to Han's facebook page, you'll see lots of stuff about cats (yes, we are cat crazy), funny stuff from Tumblr (yesterday's Venn Piagram, for example), and silliness between her and her girlfriends (very, very entertaining stuff, by the by). But you'll also find there posts about what she's listening to on Spotify (look at all those love songs and praise songs and acoustic guitar covers), and you'll find YouTube videos of songs she particularly loves. This week, the post was a song from a group we really, really like--Anthem Lights. It's called "Hide Your Love Away," and it was a release for Valentine's Day. The chorus says, "Hide your love away/ Wait for me/ Wait for me/ I will do the same/ Wait for me/ Wait for me/ There will come a day/ When I finally say/ Staring in your eyes/ I've waited my whole life/ For this night." It has these words in the bridge: "I'm holding on for you/ My heart belongs to you/ Your love is spoken for." Now, I'm sure there's a component of this song that's about sexual purity, and certainly, that's a core value for evangelical Christians. So don't walk away from this and think that Kellye doesn't think sexual purity before marriage is important, because I obviously do. But I think there's something really, really telling in this song that goes far beyond a call to abstain before marriage. The reason Han and her friends love, love, love this song is that it hits at one of the deepest needs of the heart--the belief that there is, out there somewhere, a soulmate. Not someone who thinks you're pretty. Not someone who thinks you're smart or funny or any of the other great qualities of any particular person. Because those are things anybody can think. They aren't special. What I'm talking about is the belief that somewhere in the world is the person God created just for you, the person for whom He created you. The belief that somewhere in the world is a person whose soul wraps around yours in a way that nobody else's soul does. A soulmate.

Isn't that what romantic movies are all about? Isn't that what every Nicholas Sparks book is about? We want to believe that there is someone out there who understands us, who loves us, who sees in us the good that maybe nobody else sees. Looks, beauty, passion...those things are great, and they add spice and wonder to life. They are certainly gifts from the Father of lights. But it's that deep connection that every person longs for. It's the reason Marc and I enjoy each other's company so, so much. I don't just love him. I get him. I understand him. And he understands me. We can communicate across a room with just a look, because he has stared into the depths of who I am, and he has not found me wanting or lacking. We fit. DJ and Sarah Beth are cute and sweet and funny, but what's magical about them is watching them truly like and understand one another. True love, my friends, is waiting for that one person who understands us, who sees who we really, truly are, and thinks we are perfect for them. True love is waiting for that person who speaks truth to us on a daily basis, but who also affirms who we are at the deepest parts of our souls. I have an ongoing joke with Hannah. When she comes out and I say, "Oh, Nan, you look beautiful," her reply is always, "Oh, stop you!" When I reply, "OK. I'll stop," she always grins and says, "No, Mom. Never stop. Please." It's a running gag, and I'm not attaching particular depth to it, but there IS something kind of important about that, isn't there? We all need somebody to tell us the good stuff, to remind us that we are children of God--beautiful, talented, amazing...worthy. Not worthy of worship, certainly--only God is worthy of worship. But worthy of someone else's time, attention, desire, love...worthy. 

I've prayed for years for the people my children will marry, if that's the plan God has for them. And much of what I've prayed is based not only the Scriptures, and what God has to say about marriage, but also on my own experience as a wife. I want for my children what I have--someone whose love helps me be the best version of myself. Without Marc, I would have been very content with my books and my cats. But I would have missed out on so much adventure that God has showered on my life through our marriage. I would have missed my soulmate. I would have had a good life, but I would have missed the best life God had for me. Because Marc is the best life God had planned. I'm glad I didn't miss him. :) So we prepare for SB's wedding with a smile, because the guy we prayed for showed up and is a really wonderful person who loves her and treats her exactly the way every parent alive wants their little princess treated. And we continue to pray for that guy who will come along and sweep the Nan off her feet, and the very special young woman who is God's best plan for John John. (We're praying she is someone with LOTS of energy.) Because somewhere out there, true love is waiting...for them.

Speaking of true love--I need to go make apple cinnamon muffins for mine. I love for everyone to wake up on Saturday mornings to the smell of something divine and wonderful, and since Marc is sure that cinnamon is what heaven smells like...it seemed a good choice for this rainy, dreary Saturday morning. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that your true love makes you the very best version of yourself, and that you DON'T have an expense report and German homework to do today, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Stones, Sochi, and Standing Still

Who could have imagined when we sang together all those years ago that we'd be together on a mountaintop in Russia?

Two of my three babies in Krasnaya Polyana, Russia. And yes, John John really is that tall.

Following in Daddy's footsteps: The Nan tapes her Daddy during an Engage Sochi session on top of the mountain.

Those twelve stones which they had taken from the Jordan, Joshua set up at Gilgal. He said to the sons of Israel, "When your children ask their fathers in time to come, saying, 'What are these stones?' then you shall inform your children, saying, 'Israel crossed this Jordan on dry ground.'" Joshua 4:20-22

I only have a few minutes to write this morning. There is exercising and showering to be done before our German lessons begin this morning. But we returned from Russia this weekend, and it's Wednesday already, so I feel like I need to write about our trip. We were in Sochi, Russia, the site of the 2014 Winter Olympics and Paralympics, for a week. While there, we had Engage Sochi team meetings (minus one family in the midst of their first Russian visa process), on-the-ground time to see where ministry venues might be, and great time with a team of volunteers from the Oklahoma and Georgia Baptist Conventions. We ate our Russian favorites, bought souvenirs like tourists, and re-immersed ourselves in the Russian language. (I discovered that I remember Russian well, and understood most of what was said to or around me, but when it came time to speak, only German wanted to appear.) There were lots of favorite moments. (I know that's technically an impossibility, due to the meaning of 'favorite,' but you get the idea.) Watching my kids interact with adults always reminds me that--though they are normal and have the normal issues all children have--they are pretty awesome people. John successfully ministered to every cat in Sochi. I'm really not kidding. I enjoyed time with friends, time back in Russia, time to decompress as a family. I enjoyed the Russian culture, the beautiful scenery, and the wonderful people. Most of all, I enjoyed--as I always do--the chance to watch Marc be Marc: dreaming big dreams, taking a big view of what I can only see in detail, thinking and planning and believing that God is going to do whatever He wants, regardless of how impossible we think it is. In trips like this, the difference between me and Marc is very clear. I am a plodder--I believe God is going to work, but I often feel like that work is dependent on me getting my job done. Marc is a dreamer--he knows that God is going to do things we can't imagine, so nothing seems impossible to him. I like that about him. If we were both like me, we'd have a pretty dull life. On the other hand, if we were both like him, we might forget to pay the light bill. So we're a good match, I think.

One of the really cool things about our trip was the chance to see how God has been at work in ways we could not have imagined or predicted. Engage Sochi was a pipe dream when it was hatched--who would approve it? Yet, men of vision agreed to it three years ago. The chance to see that original proposal in action...to see church plants happening...to get ready for a mass event at the Games in a year...that's good stuff. To know that God has been at work in a thousand ways to make that happen is reassuring, isn't it? Because we didn't know. We didn't know if it would work or not. But sure enough, stuff is happening. This is actually going to happen. That's pretty humbling, but it's also very reassuring and encouraging. God is going to do what He's going to do. Often, we just need to get out of the way or join the ride or dream the dream with Him. As I sat next to my friend, Margie, whom I've known forever from our days sitting in choir together in Middleburg, Florida, I couldn't help but grin a little at how God works. We could not have dreamed all those years ago that we would work together in Sochi, Russia. Goodness--I didn't even know where Sochi was on a map fifteen years ago, much less that I would ever live and travel in Russia. But we didn't have to know, did we? I bet it was kind of fun for God, watching us sing alto in the choir, joke with each other, love each other...I bet it made Him smile to see the ways in which our lives would intertwine years later for His glory, for His plan. All those years ago, we were on a need to know basis, and we didn't need to know. Now, we get to see how He has been at work all this time. That's clearly a gift from the Giver of all good things.

A pastor friend in Missouri--okay, I actually babysat him years ago--made a remark on facebook the other day that struck home with me. He said that God is good in the seasons when I get it, and He's still good in the seasons when I don't. As a family, I would say we're in a season of not getting it. It has been a difficult second term for us (kind of par-for-the-course, according to friends who have been overseas for a long time), and it can be hard to see how God is at work. When the painful season involves our children, it is nearly unbearable. And to think that their pain might be part of His plan isn't in keeping with what I know of our God, who is loving and compassionate and merciful and kind. But I've made a theological misstep there, haven't I? Because I've equated happiness with God's kindness. I've made the assumption that an easy life is a sign of God's favor. How did that work out for Peter? for Paul? If I really look at the great cloud of witnesses, how many of them enjoyed an easy life? None. Zero. They did not mark God's faithfulness by their situation or circumstances. Paul and Silas sang songs of praise chained in prison because they knew that God's goodness was not marked by their freedom. 'Well done, My good and faithful servant' is for those who endure, who press on, who stand still in the storm and know that He is God. Not the God of ease or happiness or fun, though those seasons come and are gifts from Him, too. He is the God who holds our little family, scattered over two continents, firmly in His right hand, who inscribed our names--Marc, Kellye, Sarah Beth, Hannah, John--on His palm long ago. He is the God who calls us to obedience, regardless of circumstances or seasons or emotions. He is the God whose faithfulness overwhelms my life. And in those moments when we get a glimpse of how He has been at work over many years to bring His plan for us to fruition, we treasure those stones of remembrance, we set up our own memorial at Gilgal, we say to our children--remember when God did this? He led us over dry land before, when the waters should, by all accounts, have overwhelmed us. He will do so again. We can trust Him.

I don't know your situation, but I know if you're breathing, you have something hard in your life. And maybe it's something that just doesn't make sense to you. Let me challenge you to trust in the One who makes the universe revolve, who puts the seasons in motion, and who loves you more than you can fathom. Let me challenge you to be still and know exactly who He is. Let me challenge you to look at your own memorial at Gilgal, to recount to each other the ways in which His faithfulness has led you on dry land through the Jordan, to know that He is still at work. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know and trust in the faithfulness of our giant God, and that you actually finished your German homework already. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye