As obedient children, do not be conformed to the former lusts which were yours in your ignorance, but like the Holy One who called you, be holy yourselves also in all your behavior; because it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.” I Peter 1:14-16
I know for lots of people, the “former lusts” which sometimes haunt them are things that others see as obvious sins. For me, that isn’t true. The “former lusts” with which I struggle are those parts of my personality which have made me very successful in my career as an educator—being driven to succeed, being a perfectionist, having a need to be in charge and control, being an organized leader. On the surface, none of these seem like terrible things which God frowns upon. And of themselves, they’re not. But for me, combined together, they have made for a life that has been very successful from the world’s point of view, but not terribly successful from the point of view of the Biblical standard for women.
The most difficult part of being in Russia for me has not been the weather or the language or the time it takes to get things done or the homesickness I sometimes feel for home and my parents. The most difficult thing has been the absolute loss of my identity or at least what I considered my identity. You know what? No one here cares that I can sing—most people here can sing. No one here cares that I have been super teacher in the past. No one is fighting to get their kids into my class—the only kids in my class are the three I gave birth to. You know who they’re really excited about being here? Marc. Marc is the one they prayed for all these years. I’m not saying people aren’t happy I’m here, because they are, and I am making some great friends. What I’m saying is that the skill set that Marc brings to the field is the reason we’re here. For the first time in my life, I am taking a backseat to what Marc can do. I am in the support position. For years, he did lots of things so I could be the kind of teacher I wanted to be. Now, it’s my turn. And it’s hard. It’s really, really hard. I am a home schooling housewife, and I’m telling you, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Little by little—and some days, in great big chunks—God is stripping me of all the stuff that I had built up in my mind as success. Success used to be high scores on the AP exam or awards for my teaching or applause for a song well sung. These days, success is a good meal or a particularly good family movie night or a lesson that went well for one of the kids. Success is getting them to school for p.e. and being able to explain to the security guard in a very simple sentence what we’re doing there. Success is finding a Christmas present at a price I can afford. Success is getting up early and having my quiet time so that when Marc gets up the coffee is ready. Success is snuggling with John-John before he goes to sleep and having him put his skinny little arm over me and tell me that he loves me very much. Success is seeing my kids make friends. Success is watching Hannah finally settle into being here. Success looks really, really different for me these days. But can I tell you this? For all the success I have enjoyed in my life, none has been as sweet as the daily victories of a family life that is becoming more successful every day. None has been as sweet as watching my children start to thrive in their schoolwork. None has been as sweet as having breakfast and dinner together every day and night, and actually having the energy to sit down and talk with each person about what has happened in their day. It’s hard, and it’s so much work, but daily God is changing me more and more into the person He sees when He looks at me, and less and less like the person I used to be.
So here’s the rub: I have an offer to teach at the Christian school. It’s a great school, and I love the people there. I am enjoying taking the kids Tuesday and Thursday for p.e., lunch, and recess. And basically, I can have my choice of schedules. I can start an AP class there, something I’ve done for years and know how to do. And the kids could go to school there full-time. It’s a tempting offer. But here’s what I’m praying through, and if you read this, I’d ask that you pray through it with me. Going back to teaching full-time outside my home is going to drag me away from what I’m learning to be here. It’s going to take me away from home schooling the kids. It’s going to take my focus from my home and place it elsewhere. Is that what God wants for me and my family? Or is He making such a change in me that I can now magically do what I could not do in the past—focus on my job when I’m at my job, but maintain my focus on my home, too. Pray with me about this. I am very, very torn. I would love some feedback. If you don’t feel comfortable leaving a comment, you can email me at hooksfamily@everyheart.net.
Okay, so the story behind the title—I grew up reading the Laura Ingalls Wilder books and watching the tv show, and I loved both immensely. In fact, I used to play Little House and Waltons all the time when I was younger. (I can hear you snickering. It’s not polite.) So as I walked the mile to the metro and the mile and a half to the school yesterday in the driving wind and pouring snow, it occurred to me that all those years of reading those books was finally paying off, for now I could honestly say that I had walked two miles in the snow uphill both ways to school. :o)
I love you guys so much. I hope that you have a wonderful day and weekend. I pray that whatever you are doing, you will look a little more each day the person God sees when He looks at you. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
'Tis a gift to be simple
‘Tis a gift to be simple
‘Tis a gift to be free
‘Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be.
--Old Shaker hymn
Let me say up front that this blog is inspired by a beautiful email I received from my friend Tara, who lives with her family in Brazil. I want to give credit where credit is due. After reading her email and responding, I thought you might want to know what things and people I am really, really thankful for this year. Tomorrow, I’ll write about the great night we had last night as we put up our Christmas tree and decorations.
I am thankful for:
• My apartment, which is big by Russian standards
• The babushka downstairs, who was worried something had happened to us the other night when we dropped and broke a pan lid
• A good grocery store that’s less than a mile walk
• Being able to get on the metro and ride wherever I need to go
• Being able to understand much of what is said to me
• My Christmas ornaments and decorations, which (thanks to my mother’s wrapping job) were in great condition
• The Christmas tree that was left for us by the folks who used to live here (trees cost in the hundreds of dollars)
• The friends my children are making
• That home schooling is allowing me to know my children in a different way than I have before
• That home schooling is getting a little easier each day
• Our team, whom we love and adore
• The leadership team in Russia, which is made of Godly men whose judgment I trust
• New friends we grow closer to daily
• Old friends who continue to keep in touch with us
• That the internet was up and working long enough Thanksgiving night for Marc to talk to his parents for an hour (afterwards, it immediately crashed)
• That Lottie Moon pays my bills and I don’t have to ask others for money to support me here
• My Ziploc bags, which I brought from the states (they really do dry well on the tile, Tara…thanks for the advice)
• That the internet was up and working long enough for Marc to “watch” the Texas/A&M game last night while skyping back and forth with his friend, Larry (the game started at 1a.m. our time…I have no idea when he got to sleep)
• My Easy Spirit shoes, which I bought because they were on sale, and which turn out to have great grip on the ice
• My jammy pants, which I also bought on a whim and wear every single night
• Really good long underwear
• Fur-lined boots, which keep our toes warm
• That my sister, Kay, has bought a plan where she can call as much as she wants for $20 a month and that I’ve gotten to talk to my parents every day since they got to her house
• That I got to talk to my other sister, Cathy, last night
• That Sarah Beth and I were able to go Christmas shopping yesterday
• That I brought Herman and Henrietta with me and they are perched on my Christmas tree (thanks Melissa and Gail!)
• Irina, our language teacher, who is the person of peace we prayed for in Moscow
• Leslie, the language enoch (person who is in charge of everyone’s language study) who not only sent us Irina, but has been unbelievably helpful in a thousand different ways, including bringing us three boxes of books her children are no longer needing
• My FPO friends, who call and write and generally encourage me daily—gifts from God
• My sending church, which loves us and keeps tabs on us
• Our partner churches, which encourage people to pray for us
• Kay’s Sunday School class, which has loved us like their own
• A $5 can of pumpkin, with which I made unbelievably good pumpkin pie last night
• My pastor, Alan Floyd, who is a big reason we were able to answer this call
• That people like you read this blog and encourage me through your emails, comments, and prayers for me and for my family
• That the God of the Universe called me to something unusual and different (okay, and hard) because He’s doing something unusual and different (okay, and hard) in my life and the life of my family
See? I told you it’s a long list. And here’s the thing: I didn’t even put half of what’s on my list in my blessings book. Not even half. If you look with eyes of faith—blessings are everywhere. It’s easy during the Christmas season to get caught up in packages and presents and all the “trappings” of the season—and those things are wonderful and fun. But if you take the time this season to really look at all the ways God is blessing you, and if you choose to see even the smallest things as coming from Him, I know you’ll be overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for all He’s done and is doing in your life, too. I am overwhelmed with contentment and peace when I choose to be aware of how He’s working. I would love to hear what you’re thankful for, too. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
‘Tis a gift to be free
‘Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be.
--Old Shaker hymn
Let me say up front that this blog is inspired by a beautiful email I received from my friend Tara, who lives with her family in Brazil. I want to give credit where credit is due. After reading her email and responding, I thought you might want to know what things and people I am really, really thankful for this year. Tomorrow, I’ll write about the great night we had last night as we put up our Christmas tree and decorations.
I am thankful for:
• My apartment, which is big by Russian standards
• The babushka downstairs, who was worried something had happened to us the other night when we dropped and broke a pan lid
• A good grocery store that’s less than a mile walk
• Being able to get on the metro and ride wherever I need to go
• Being able to understand much of what is said to me
• My Christmas ornaments and decorations, which (thanks to my mother’s wrapping job) were in great condition
• The Christmas tree that was left for us by the folks who used to live here (trees cost in the hundreds of dollars)
• The friends my children are making
• That home schooling is allowing me to know my children in a different way than I have before
• That home schooling is getting a little easier each day
• Our team, whom we love and adore
• The leadership team in Russia, which is made of Godly men whose judgment I trust
• New friends we grow closer to daily
• Old friends who continue to keep in touch with us
• That the internet was up and working long enough Thanksgiving night for Marc to talk to his parents for an hour (afterwards, it immediately crashed)
• That Lottie Moon pays my bills and I don’t have to ask others for money to support me here
• My Ziploc bags, which I brought from the states (they really do dry well on the tile, Tara…thanks for the advice)
• That the internet was up and working long enough for Marc to “watch” the Texas/A&M game last night while skyping back and forth with his friend, Larry (the game started at 1a.m. our time…I have no idea when he got to sleep)
• My Easy Spirit shoes, which I bought because they were on sale, and which turn out to have great grip on the ice
• My jammy pants, which I also bought on a whim and wear every single night
• Really good long underwear
• Fur-lined boots, which keep our toes warm
• That my sister, Kay, has bought a plan where she can call as much as she wants for $20 a month and that I’ve gotten to talk to my parents every day since they got to her house
• That I got to talk to my other sister, Cathy, last night
• That Sarah Beth and I were able to go Christmas shopping yesterday
• That I brought Herman and Henrietta with me and they are perched on my Christmas tree (thanks Melissa and Gail!)
• Irina, our language teacher, who is the person of peace we prayed for in Moscow
• Leslie, the language enoch (person who is in charge of everyone’s language study) who not only sent us Irina, but has been unbelievably helpful in a thousand different ways, including bringing us three boxes of books her children are no longer needing
• My FPO friends, who call and write and generally encourage me daily—gifts from God
• My sending church, which loves us and keeps tabs on us
• Our partner churches, which encourage people to pray for us
• Kay’s Sunday School class, which has loved us like their own
• A $5 can of pumpkin, with which I made unbelievably good pumpkin pie last night
• My pastor, Alan Floyd, who is a big reason we were able to answer this call
• That people like you read this blog and encourage me through your emails, comments, and prayers for me and for my family
• That the God of the Universe called me to something unusual and different (okay, and hard) because He’s doing something unusual and different (okay, and hard) in my life and the life of my family
See? I told you it’s a long list. And here’s the thing: I didn’t even put half of what’s on my list in my blessings book. Not even half. If you look with eyes of faith—blessings are everywhere. It’s easy during the Christmas season to get caught up in packages and presents and all the “trappings” of the season—and those things are wonderful and fun. But if you take the time this season to really look at all the ways God is blessing you, and if you choose to see even the smallest things as coming from Him, I know you’ll be overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for all He’s done and is doing in your life, too. I am overwhelmed with contentment and peace when I choose to be aware of how He’s working. I would love to hear what you’re thankful for, too. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7
Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. Philippians 4:6-7 (Msg)
I love Thanksgiving on many levels. For one thing, I love to cook, so it makes me very happy to be in the kitchen rustling up grub for a group. It’s also the beginning of Christmas for our family, and I adore everything about Christmas. Plastic santas on the lawn make me happy. I love the big tree at one of the malls here, which is actually a huge wire structure with totally fake branches kind of glued on willy-nilly. Doesn’t matter to me, because I love Christmas. But back to Thanksgiving. Most of all, I love the chance to get together with family and think on all of the things we have to be thankful for. So I was totally prepared for today to be hard in many ways. Worried about homesickness for the family we left behind, I secretly began to dread the holiday I’ve always loved. So for once, I followed the advice of my own life verse, and I gave that particular concern to God, thanking Him for the ways in which this Thanksgiving would be different for our family. And you know what happened? The kind of peace that defies logic (or transcends all understanding) just rained down all over me. And it turns out that it’s okay to miss my family and friends in the States and still enjoy what I have here. Because in many ways, what I have here is pretty great.
We spent the day with our IMB family here in Moscow. Gathering at the local Christian school, we numbered between 70 and 80. (Lots of families in Moscow, and many have four or five children, so when we get together…it’s a mess of us.) It was so fun. We ate great food and we spent time singing songs about being thankful for what we have. We played games, ate more, and then played more games. At the end of the day, Hannah went home with one family, Sarah Beth went off with the teenagers to someone’s house, and John-John was the only one who came home with us. (He’s sitting on the couch right now, pretty zonked, because he discovered sledding today…our lives may never be the same.) It was different, certainly, than what we’re used to—for one thing, it took us an hour, a bus, and two metro stops and a one mile hike on the ice to get there, rather than staying in the comfort of our home. And we definitely didn’t wear shorts like we have in years past! (20 degrees is a little too chilly for that.) But if what we longed for what for everything to stay exactly the same, we came to the wrong place. I don’t know anywhere in the world where Thanksgiving is exactly the same there as it is in the States. Every place has its hardships. My friend is in Brazil, and she’s burning up and dealing with bugs. Other friends are in Africa and enduring a hard life in the bush. We’re in Europe’s largest city, and we’re getting used to what that means for us. But I’m thankful today for the differences. I’m thankful that God called us here. I am learning to love this city God has called me to love. I am learning to be content in all things…even the hard ones. I’m learning to love the outdoor markets which are totally different from anything in the states. I’m even learning to love the metro and the bus, because it gives me a chance to be up close and personal with Russians, especially now that I can carry on some kind of conversation. I’m thankful that God did not call us and leave us alone here. I’m glad He isn’t the “great clockmaker” the Deists believed Him to be—uninterested in the world He created. I daily sense His presence in our every day life. And I’m thankful for that gift.
The list of things to be thankful for is long. I know, because the other day I just started writing down all the things we are blessed with in our lives here. A tremendous mission family—who have loved us beyond what is reasonable or explicable. A wonderful biological family—who call and email and keep us in their thoughts and prayers and who have fully embraced God’s call upon our lives as the call upon the whole family. Friends in the States who love us and email us. Our mission friends around the world. Not a single day we have been here has been without an email or a skype message or a call from someone somewhere in the world—just to commiserate with us about how hard this is and to love us, love us, love us. I just started writing the list on a whim—I had prayed during my quiet time some kind of general thing, like “I have so much to be thankful for,” and it occurred to me (divine inspiration?) that it wouldn’t hurt me to make a list. Oh, my goodness…it was long, and it gets longer each day. It is a good exercise to count your blessings literally. Put together on a page, they go on and on and on and on. His mercies are new each morning, and so are His immense blessings.
So this Thanksgiving day, rather than just going around the table and naming one thing for which you are thankful, I challenge you to start a list of your own. Really count the blessings of this life. But be warned, my friends—you’re going to need a whole book in which to write. I love each of you, and I hope your day is wonderful and warm! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. Philippians 4:6-7 (Msg)
I love Thanksgiving on many levels. For one thing, I love to cook, so it makes me very happy to be in the kitchen rustling up grub for a group. It’s also the beginning of Christmas for our family, and I adore everything about Christmas. Plastic santas on the lawn make me happy. I love the big tree at one of the malls here, which is actually a huge wire structure with totally fake branches kind of glued on willy-nilly. Doesn’t matter to me, because I love Christmas. But back to Thanksgiving. Most of all, I love the chance to get together with family and think on all of the things we have to be thankful for. So I was totally prepared for today to be hard in many ways. Worried about homesickness for the family we left behind, I secretly began to dread the holiday I’ve always loved. So for once, I followed the advice of my own life verse, and I gave that particular concern to God, thanking Him for the ways in which this Thanksgiving would be different for our family. And you know what happened? The kind of peace that defies logic (or transcends all understanding) just rained down all over me. And it turns out that it’s okay to miss my family and friends in the States and still enjoy what I have here. Because in many ways, what I have here is pretty great.
We spent the day with our IMB family here in Moscow. Gathering at the local Christian school, we numbered between 70 and 80. (Lots of families in Moscow, and many have four or five children, so when we get together…it’s a mess of us.) It was so fun. We ate great food and we spent time singing songs about being thankful for what we have. We played games, ate more, and then played more games. At the end of the day, Hannah went home with one family, Sarah Beth went off with the teenagers to someone’s house, and John-John was the only one who came home with us. (He’s sitting on the couch right now, pretty zonked, because he discovered sledding today…our lives may never be the same.) It was different, certainly, than what we’re used to—for one thing, it took us an hour, a bus, and two metro stops and a one mile hike on the ice to get there, rather than staying in the comfort of our home. And we definitely didn’t wear shorts like we have in years past! (20 degrees is a little too chilly for that.) But if what we longed for what for everything to stay exactly the same, we came to the wrong place. I don’t know anywhere in the world where Thanksgiving is exactly the same there as it is in the States. Every place has its hardships. My friend is in Brazil, and she’s burning up and dealing with bugs. Other friends are in Africa and enduring a hard life in the bush. We’re in Europe’s largest city, and we’re getting used to what that means for us. But I’m thankful today for the differences. I’m thankful that God called us here. I am learning to love this city God has called me to love. I am learning to be content in all things…even the hard ones. I’m learning to love the outdoor markets which are totally different from anything in the states. I’m even learning to love the metro and the bus, because it gives me a chance to be up close and personal with Russians, especially now that I can carry on some kind of conversation. I’m thankful that God did not call us and leave us alone here. I’m glad He isn’t the “great clockmaker” the Deists believed Him to be—uninterested in the world He created. I daily sense His presence in our every day life. And I’m thankful for that gift.
The list of things to be thankful for is long. I know, because the other day I just started writing down all the things we are blessed with in our lives here. A tremendous mission family—who have loved us beyond what is reasonable or explicable. A wonderful biological family—who call and email and keep us in their thoughts and prayers and who have fully embraced God’s call upon our lives as the call upon the whole family. Friends in the States who love us and email us. Our mission friends around the world. Not a single day we have been here has been without an email or a skype message or a call from someone somewhere in the world—just to commiserate with us about how hard this is and to love us, love us, love us. I just started writing the list on a whim—I had prayed during my quiet time some kind of general thing, like “I have so much to be thankful for,” and it occurred to me (divine inspiration?) that it wouldn’t hurt me to make a list. Oh, my goodness…it was long, and it gets longer each day. It is a good exercise to count your blessings literally. Put together on a page, they go on and on and on and on. His mercies are new each morning, and so are His immense blessings.
So this Thanksgiving day, rather than just going around the table and naming one thing for which you are thankful, I challenge you to start a list of your own. Really count the blessings of this life. But be warned, my friends—you’re going to need a whole book in which to write. I love each of you, and I hope your day is wonderful and warm! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Monday, November 19, 2007
My children
Behold, children are a gift of the LORD, the fruit of the womb is a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, so are the children of one's youth. How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them; they will not be ashamed when they speak with their enemies in the gate. Psalm 127:3-5
Since it's the week of Thanksgiving, I thought it an appropriate time to tell you what I am thankful for and what I am learning about my children. Because I am homeschooling them, and because we are here together so much of the day, I am learning things I never knew about my children, and it is causing me to have a brand-new appreciation for the people they are turning out to be. And for those of you who don't know my darlings, this is a chance for you to get to know them.
Sarah Beth is fifteen, and when she was thirteen, I could not imagine a time when I would just love being around her. Cranky and rude, disrespectful and hard-headed...it was not a pleasant year. But she has turned into one of my favorite people. She is funny and compassionate, and she is more thoughtful and sensitive than I knew until we came here. Sarah Beth does the dishes for me while I'm in my language lesson every day. She often bakes something for the family (which is great, because she is really, really good at it). She daily checks to see if there is anything new from her friends, and she worries about those in high security places we can't mention. She is creative and talented, and we've turned over decorating the apartment to her. She can take stencils, markers, tape, and butcher block paper and make something neat for her room. She's just talented at it. And with no training at all, she has picked up how to read Russian...a feat I am particularly impressed with since it took me much longer. She can even understand much of what is being said around her in Russian. She walked to the store (a mile each way) yesterday in the freezing, freezing cold (it was about 10) so that she could get the stuff to bake cookies for us last night. She has embraced much about this adventure in a way that has been very, very gratifying for us to watch. As I look at her, I see glimpses of the woman she will one day be, and I have to tell you...I really like so much of what I see. This tells you much about S.B.'s heart: on the way home from church on Sunday, I heard her say, "Oh, Mommy...I feel so bad for that doggy. He must be cold." On closer perusal, it was a black trash bag caught in the wind. But the thought of something being stuck out in the cold was more than her heart could stand. That's just Sarah Beth.
Hannah is my middle child, and in many ways, she is a typical middle child. She is the social butterfly of the family, and her adjustment to living in Russia has been the hardest by far. When we were at FPO, Hannah was never in her room. Instead, she was out with a whole circle of friends, crocheting and working on different projects together. She misses her friends tremendously, and she has mourned them in many ways here. So, what I've come to appreciate about Hannah is her absolute loyalty. She sticks with people. She checks her email and is always delighted to write back to whomever has written her--a difficulty on many days, since our internet is often down. She is loving to others in many ways, and she is delighted by the many "aunts and uncles" she has gained in our time with the IMB. She is more of a math kid than I thought, and she is daily gaining confidence in those abilities (though division escapes her, much to her chagrin). She is probably the child who is least like either of us. I can see a little of me (she's the same kind of student I am) and a little of Marc (who is fiercely loyal to people), but there are lots of things about Hannah that I have no idea where they come from. She is quickly growing into a young lady, and a pretty one at that, but she is still, in her heart of hearts, a little girl, which we are very, very pleased with. Every morning, Hannah is the first kid out of bed, and I almost always find her curled up in our bed, snuggling under the blankets, loving on her Daddy. She is talented and loving, and she is trying to find her way here. I believe Hannah will grow into her role here in Russia, and I'm excited to see what that will look like.
And then there's John-John. Our friends Pat and Jane laughed when we found out we were having a boy, because we had no clue how a boy was going to change our lives, and they were right. John-John is much more tender than I knew before we came here. He said something last night that hurt my feelings, and he was crushed. He doesn't like to hurt people, though he loves to terrorize his sisters. And while he can be the most frustrating of my three children, he can also be the funniest and most loving. He has mastered the armpit fart since we've been here, and he has made some of the funniest movies on my iMac that I've ever seen. Even the girls love to watch them and giggle at him. While his hyperactivity can be a challenge in a large city like this, I rarely hear him complain about the cold--this is all a big adventure to him. And while his mommy is sometimes reluctant to speak Russian if it isn't going to be absolutely perfect, John is not concerned with a language barrier. Frankly, he has made contact with more Russians than the rest of us, because he has charmed the entire city of Moscow. Irina is in love with him, pronouncing him a "wonderful boy" on a daily basis. He runs so that she will chase and tickle him. He has charmed the babushkas who sit in the guard booths at the bottom of the metro. He has learned to ride the metro with the best of them, maintaining his balance even while he's being absolutely crushed by all the people. Here is a perfect example of John's magic at work: while we were at the conference center, some teenage boys came in to play ping pong. Of course, they were pretty good at it, and our little boys all wanted to watch. The adults didn't want to watch, because the teenage boys all had terrible, terrible body odor--the kind that knocks you out when you open the door. So we stayed in the conference room and talked and laughed. When I went out to use the restroom, I found that John has talked his way into the game, and one of the teenagers is helping him learn how to hit the ball with the paddle, holding his hand on the paddle and helping him swing. The other teenagers are clapping for him. And to be honest, I felt kind of ashamed. I hadn't wanted to be around them because they smelled so bad, but John-John was right there with them, playing and laughing and talking. He didn't care how they smelled. He was just glad to be with them. It may turn out that John-John is the actual missionary, and Marc and I are just the way he got to Russia.
Well, those are the things I am thankful for about my three arrows. I am getting to know them better each day, and while they aren't perfect, and there are days I'm ready to climb the walls, I am glad for this chance to really get to know them well. It turns out that they are people I like. Now THAT'S something to be thankful about this holiday season! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Since it's the week of Thanksgiving, I thought it an appropriate time to tell you what I am thankful for and what I am learning about my children. Because I am homeschooling them, and because we are here together so much of the day, I am learning things I never knew about my children, and it is causing me to have a brand-new appreciation for the people they are turning out to be. And for those of you who don't know my darlings, this is a chance for you to get to know them.
Sarah Beth is fifteen, and when she was thirteen, I could not imagine a time when I would just love being around her. Cranky and rude, disrespectful and hard-headed...it was not a pleasant year. But she has turned into one of my favorite people. She is funny and compassionate, and she is more thoughtful and sensitive than I knew until we came here. Sarah Beth does the dishes for me while I'm in my language lesson every day. She often bakes something for the family (which is great, because she is really, really good at it). She daily checks to see if there is anything new from her friends, and she worries about those in high security places we can't mention. She is creative and talented, and we've turned over decorating the apartment to her. She can take stencils, markers, tape, and butcher block paper and make something neat for her room. She's just talented at it. And with no training at all, she has picked up how to read Russian...a feat I am particularly impressed with since it took me much longer. She can even understand much of what is being said around her in Russian. She walked to the store (a mile each way) yesterday in the freezing, freezing cold (it was about 10) so that she could get the stuff to bake cookies for us last night. She has embraced much about this adventure in a way that has been very, very gratifying for us to watch. As I look at her, I see glimpses of the woman she will one day be, and I have to tell you...I really like so much of what I see. This tells you much about S.B.'s heart: on the way home from church on Sunday, I heard her say, "Oh, Mommy...I feel so bad for that doggy. He must be cold." On closer perusal, it was a black trash bag caught in the wind. But the thought of something being stuck out in the cold was more than her heart could stand. That's just Sarah Beth.
Hannah is my middle child, and in many ways, she is a typical middle child. She is the social butterfly of the family, and her adjustment to living in Russia has been the hardest by far. When we were at FPO, Hannah was never in her room. Instead, she was out with a whole circle of friends, crocheting and working on different projects together. She misses her friends tremendously, and she has mourned them in many ways here. So, what I've come to appreciate about Hannah is her absolute loyalty. She sticks with people. She checks her email and is always delighted to write back to whomever has written her--a difficulty on many days, since our internet is often down. She is loving to others in many ways, and she is delighted by the many "aunts and uncles" she has gained in our time with the IMB. She is more of a math kid than I thought, and she is daily gaining confidence in those abilities (though division escapes her, much to her chagrin). She is probably the child who is least like either of us. I can see a little of me (she's the same kind of student I am) and a little of Marc (who is fiercely loyal to people), but there are lots of things about Hannah that I have no idea where they come from. She is quickly growing into a young lady, and a pretty one at that, but she is still, in her heart of hearts, a little girl, which we are very, very pleased with. Every morning, Hannah is the first kid out of bed, and I almost always find her curled up in our bed, snuggling under the blankets, loving on her Daddy. She is talented and loving, and she is trying to find her way here. I believe Hannah will grow into her role here in Russia, and I'm excited to see what that will look like.
And then there's John-John. Our friends Pat and Jane laughed when we found out we were having a boy, because we had no clue how a boy was going to change our lives, and they were right. John-John is much more tender than I knew before we came here. He said something last night that hurt my feelings, and he was crushed. He doesn't like to hurt people, though he loves to terrorize his sisters. And while he can be the most frustrating of my three children, he can also be the funniest and most loving. He has mastered the armpit fart since we've been here, and he has made some of the funniest movies on my iMac that I've ever seen. Even the girls love to watch them and giggle at him. While his hyperactivity can be a challenge in a large city like this, I rarely hear him complain about the cold--this is all a big adventure to him. And while his mommy is sometimes reluctant to speak Russian if it isn't going to be absolutely perfect, John is not concerned with a language barrier. Frankly, he has made contact with more Russians than the rest of us, because he has charmed the entire city of Moscow. Irina is in love with him, pronouncing him a "wonderful boy" on a daily basis. He runs so that she will chase and tickle him. He has charmed the babushkas who sit in the guard booths at the bottom of the metro. He has learned to ride the metro with the best of them, maintaining his balance even while he's being absolutely crushed by all the people. Here is a perfect example of John's magic at work: while we were at the conference center, some teenage boys came in to play ping pong. Of course, they were pretty good at it, and our little boys all wanted to watch. The adults didn't want to watch, because the teenage boys all had terrible, terrible body odor--the kind that knocks you out when you open the door. So we stayed in the conference room and talked and laughed. When I went out to use the restroom, I found that John has talked his way into the game, and one of the teenagers is helping him learn how to hit the ball with the paddle, holding his hand on the paddle and helping him swing. The other teenagers are clapping for him. And to be honest, I felt kind of ashamed. I hadn't wanted to be around them because they smelled so bad, but John-John was right there with them, playing and laughing and talking. He didn't care how they smelled. He was just glad to be with them. It may turn out that John-John is the actual missionary, and Marc and I are just the way he got to Russia.
Well, those are the things I am thankful for about my three arrows. I am getting to know them better each day, and while they aren't perfect, and there are days I'm ready to climb the walls, I am glad for this chance to really get to know them well. It turns out that they are people I like. Now THAT'S something to be thankful about this holiday season! Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Are we crossing or using?
But I trust in Your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in Your salvation. I will sing to the LORD, for He has been good to me. Psalm 13:5-6
Sometimes, in the course of just living life, I think it’s hard to see how the LORD has been good to us. We look around us and see problems, but in reality, He has been working in us and around us to make each day possible. Sometimes, it’s a teacher who touches our child in a miraculous way, someone we may have prayed for who suddenly appears. Sometimes, it’s just taking a few days away to thank Him for His creation and for what He’s doing through other people. Sometimes, it’s looking at your children in a brand new light. And sometimes, it’s choosing to feel better even if your emotions don’t always agree. In our case, we have had all of these experiences, and each time it reminds us that the Father up above IS looking down in love, and He’s orchestrating things around us in ways that we cannot even comprehend, but can appreciate if we are purposeful about doing so.
I haven’t written since our retreat, but we had a marvelous time. Clean air and lots of trees (and snow) was exactly what the doctor ordered. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, had some marvelous Bible teaching in English, and laughed a whole lot. We love our team so much, and it was wonderful to have time to spend altogether. Thank you for praying that our time would be valuable—it certainly was.
We have enjoyed our time off of language school this week, but we are looking forward to seeing Irina again on Monday. She spent the week in Kiev with her parents. We only have class Monday-Wednesday, and then we have Thursday and Friday off for Thanksgiving. We are spending Thanksgiving with all of the IMB missionaries in Moscow, who are gathering at the Christian school to eat, play, watch some football, and laugh. It should be a wonderful time. Friday, we will put up our Christmas tree and S.B. and I might do some shopping. Pray that we will be able to find some good prices—everything here is very, very expensive. When we looked into replacing our Xbox with an Xbox 360 from here, it was around $600. That should give you a pretty good idea of what prices are here. Luckily, we were able to have a team bring some in last week when they came from Kentucky, so that helped. However, we’re still looking at the bulk of Christmas being from Moscow (did I mention it is the most expensive city in the world?).
Marc has just come in from a quick trip with the trash (Hannah’s job, but we don’t let her do it at night), and he has pronounced it very, very, very cold outside. I don’t want to hear anymore whining from our Florida friends, by the way. Sixty is not cold. It’s summer. :o)
We had a marvelous, wonderful day today. We went to the Starlite Café, which is an American diner (in an actual dining car) that serves American food at a not too terrible price. It wasn’t Country Cabin, but it was still pretty good. They were very, very excited to have an actual American family, and we were very, very excited to get a pancake with some maple syrup (they don’t have maple syrup here). It was pretty good stuff. We then went to the Russian equivalent of Best Buy and bought coffee filters (I haven’t been able to find them anywhere) and a hair dryer and Bugs Bunny cartoons in Russian. (I know how to say, “That’s all folks” now.) It was a pretty fabulous day. Of course, to end it we got on the wrong bus and spent an hour and a half touring beautiful Moscow. Hmmm…we were just glad to wind up where we could catch a different bus home!
The title of today’s blog is a quote of something Han says every time we go down into the Metro. On big streets with lots of traffic, they have parahautes, which are basically underground crosswalks. When we head to the steps leading down to the Metro, she always asks, “Are we crossing or using?” Now, Marc thinks I have to turn everything into some kind of analogy for Christ and how He’s at work in my life, and I’m sure if I worked hard enough I could make something pretty good out of this one. But I was out for 10 hours with three kids in Europe’s largest city, and I’m pretty worn. I just think it’s kind of cute.
I’ve also come up with another title for my book. If you’ll recall from previous blogs, the first title was Armpit farts at the breakfast table. The new title (also from an experience here in Moscow) is Dinosaurs in the bathtub. Or what about Plastic snakes in the freezer? I’m also considering Go straight to the dumpster and then turn right. Maybe I should make this a matter for an online poll. It makes me giggle just to think about the many odd things that have happened to me here.
Well, it’s late, and I can still hear John-John singing in their bedroom. I should go get them to sleep. I hope you have a wonderful, restful Sabbath. As you’re “freezing” in your sixty degree weather, just remember that the high here tomorrow is 20. Degrees. I’m not even kidding. By the way—another lesson learned: hairspray and a heavy downpour of snow are not a great combination. That’s just a free little tidbit for whoever of you might need to know that. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Sometimes, in the course of just living life, I think it’s hard to see how the LORD has been good to us. We look around us and see problems, but in reality, He has been working in us and around us to make each day possible. Sometimes, it’s a teacher who touches our child in a miraculous way, someone we may have prayed for who suddenly appears. Sometimes, it’s just taking a few days away to thank Him for His creation and for what He’s doing through other people. Sometimes, it’s looking at your children in a brand new light. And sometimes, it’s choosing to feel better even if your emotions don’t always agree. In our case, we have had all of these experiences, and each time it reminds us that the Father up above IS looking down in love, and He’s orchestrating things around us in ways that we cannot even comprehend, but can appreciate if we are purposeful about doing so.
I haven’t written since our retreat, but we had a marvelous time. Clean air and lots of trees (and snow) was exactly what the doctor ordered. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, had some marvelous Bible teaching in English, and laughed a whole lot. We love our team so much, and it was wonderful to have time to spend altogether. Thank you for praying that our time would be valuable—it certainly was.
We have enjoyed our time off of language school this week, but we are looking forward to seeing Irina again on Monday. She spent the week in Kiev with her parents. We only have class Monday-Wednesday, and then we have Thursday and Friday off for Thanksgiving. We are spending Thanksgiving with all of the IMB missionaries in Moscow, who are gathering at the Christian school to eat, play, watch some football, and laugh. It should be a wonderful time. Friday, we will put up our Christmas tree and S.B. and I might do some shopping. Pray that we will be able to find some good prices—everything here is very, very expensive. When we looked into replacing our Xbox with an Xbox 360 from here, it was around $600. That should give you a pretty good idea of what prices are here. Luckily, we were able to have a team bring some in last week when they came from Kentucky, so that helped. However, we’re still looking at the bulk of Christmas being from Moscow (did I mention it is the most expensive city in the world?).
Marc has just come in from a quick trip with the trash (Hannah’s job, but we don’t let her do it at night), and he has pronounced it very, very, very cold outside. I don’t want to hear anymore whining from our Florida friends, by the way. Sixty is not cold. It’s summer. :o)
We had a marvelous, wonderful day today. We went to the Starlite Café, which is an American diner (in an actual dining car) that serves American food at a not too terrible price. It wasn’t Country Cabin, but it was still pretty good. They were very, very excited to have an actual American family, and we were very, very excited to get a pancake with some maple syrup (they don’t have maple syrup here). It was pretty good stuff. We then went to the Russian equivalent of Best Buy and bought coffee filters (I haven’t been able to find them anywhere) and a hair dryer and Bugs Bunny cartoons in Russian. (I know how to say, “That’s all folks” now.) It was a pretty fabulous day. Of course, to end it we got on the wrong bus and spent an hour and a half touring beautiful Moscow. Hmmm…we were just glad to wind up where we could catch a different bus home!
The title of today’s blog is a quote of something Han says every time we go down into the Metro. On big streets with lots of traffic, they have parahautes, which are basically underground crosswalks. When we head to the steps leading down to the Metro, she always asks, “Are we crossing or using?” Now, Marc thinks I have to turn everything into some kind of analogy for Christ and how He’s at work in my life, and I’m sure if I worked hard enough I could make something pretty good out of this one. But I was out for 10 hours with three kids in Europe’s largest city, and I’m pretty worn. I just think it’s kind of cute.
I’ve also come up with another title for my book. If you’ll recall from previous blogs, the first title was Armpit farts at the breakfast table. The new title (also from an experience here in Moscow) is Dinosaurs in the bathtub. Or what about Plastic snakes in the freezer? I’m also considering Go straight to the dumpster and then turn right. Maybe I should make this a matter for an online poll. It makes me giggle just to think about the many odd things that have happened to me here.
Well, it’s late, and I can still hear John-John singing in their bedroom. I should go get them to sleep. I hope you have a wonderful, restful Sabbath. As you’re “freezing” in your sixty degree weather, just remember that the high here tomorrow is 20. Degrees. I’m not even kidding. By the way—another lesson learned: hairspray and a heavy downpour of snow are not a great combination. That’s just a free little tidbit for whoever of you might need to know that. Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
Sunday, November 11, 2007
More than a conqueror
Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. Romans 8:35, 37
I think I would add to the list above “lack of internet” and “ unhappy children”. What do you think? I’m pretty certain those things would make the list of that which cannot separate us from Christ’s love. Don’t you?
I realize I haven’t written much this week. It has been a long, hard week, though some good things have happened. We found a school for the two younger children with a director who speaks English and is very, very nice. We are hoping this will alleviate some of Hannah’s mourning for her friends. The kids will only be there part of the day, most likely, and then come home and finish school with me. Yesterday, we went to the local Christian international school for a fall festival. The kids all had a great time, and we had the chance (while they ran around like wild banshees) to sit and talk with some folks we don’t know all that well. It was great! In fact, Sarah Beth has been with the family we sat with all day long, and I don’t anticipate seeing her before 6 p.m. This is an answer to prayer—Sarah Beth is an introvert, and we worry about her being alone too much. We are thrilled that she is out and about. We also bought a big bunch of stuff yesterday and today for the cold—snow clothes and snow boots and warm gloves all around. It is swiftly becoming bitterly cold, and our family is just not used to that at all. It helps to have the right equipment for the cold. Basically, our kids have to have ski gear. And we all have fur-lined boots as of today. So, though we dropped a ton of money in the past two days, we are ready for the cold. Or at least we think we’re ready for the cold.
Our internet situation continues to be a source of struggle for us. We paid to have the only internet company that services our building run the internet into our apartment (we had to pay an extra 500 rubles for them to take it past the door), only to discover that it won’t work on Macs. Hmmm…I can only think of how excited and happy we’re going to be when we finally figure out the internet thing here. There has to be a solution, right? We cannot have been put in the only building in Moscow without access to high-speed internet, surely. At least that’s what we’re telling ourselves.
I wish so much that I could tell you that this grand adventure is great fun. I wish I could tell you that I sail through every day, humming a happy tune, praying as I vacuum my floor and conjugate my verbs. I WISH I could tell you that—but the truth is that this adventure is hard. Every single thing we do is hard. Marc left for the little store that’s down the street to pick up a few things—only to find that they were out of everything we needed, so he had to catch a bus to the supermarket—turning a 30 minute trip into an hour-long trip. While Marc and Han were shopping this morning, I plugged the Xbox into the wrong kind of converter and blew it up. We got lost on the way to the clothing store yesterday, and ended up trekking around the wrong way. But there is always some good. Marc didn’t have to wait for the bus either way to the grocery, and it only took an hour instead of an hour and a half. The Xbox can be replaced. We were able to ask for (and understand) directions to the store. There is good when we want to see it. We just have to want to see it.
Tomorrow morning we leave on a three-day retreat with our team. Pray that it will be a refreshing time of learning and singing and worshipping and fellowshipping for us. We love our fellow missionaries here, and we enjoy every second we get to spend together. Pray for our team. This is a hard place. People are not welcoming. (Or as Irina said, “Russians are not glad you’re here.”) Life here does not necessarily get easier and easier as one adjusts to the learning curve. Pray that our time together with our on-field family is productive and restful and important for all of us. Please pray, too, for my sister Kay, who is having surgery tomorrow morning. We are trusting that all will go well and she’ll be home by noon.
This next paragraph is for those of you who are members of our home church. I listened to Alan’s sermon from last week, and it was, as usual, a barn-burner. Let me encourage you to never take for granted your church or her pastor. First Baptist Church of Middleburg is our sending church, and we couldn’t love and respect a place more than we do our beloved church. We have benefited from great programs, great teaching and preaching, wonderful worship, fantastic children’s programs…and an encouragement to seek God’s will for our lives in a way that led us to answer our call to international missions. If I’ve learned nothing else through following that call, I’ve certainly learned to trust God—with our careers, our children, our marriage, and our finances. He is faithful, my friends. I promise you’re not going to give Him more than He will give back to you. I have given Him an awful lot—and it’s pretty paltry in the face of His love for me. Trust Him—even in the midst of a dark, cold winter, I can promise you that you’ll never regret the decision to trust Him. Never.
Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
I think I would add to the list above “lack of internet” and “ unhappy children”. What do you think? I’m pretty certain those things would make the list of that which cannot separate us from Christ’s love. Don’t you?
I realize I haven’t written much this week. It has been a long, hard week, though some good things have happened. We found a school for the two younger children with a director who speaks English and is very, very nice. We are hoping this will alleviate some of Hannah’s mourning for her friends. The kids will only be there part of the day, most likely, and then come home and finish school with me. Yesterday, we went to the local Christian international school for a fall festival. The kids all had a great time, and we had the chance (while they ran around like wild banshees) to sit and talk with some folks we don’t know all that well. It was great! In fact, Sarah Beth has been with the family we sat with all day long, and I don’t anticipate seeing her before 6 p.m. This is an answer to prayer—Sarah Beth is an introvert, and we worry about her being alone too much. We are thrilled that she is out and about. We also bought a big bunch of stuff yesterday and today for the cold—snow clothes and snow boots and warm gloves all around. It is swiftly becoming bitterly cold, and our family is just not used to that at all. It helps to have the right equipment for the cold. Basically, our kids have to have ski gear. And we all have fur-lined boots as of today. So, though we dropped a ton of money in the past two days, we are ready for the cold. Or at least we think we’re ready for the cold.
Our internet situation continues to be a source of struggle for us. We paid to have the only internet company that services our building run the internet into our apartment (we had to pay an extra 500 rubles for them to take it past the door), only to discover that it won’t work on Macs. Hmmm…I can only think of how excited and happy we’re going to be when we finally figure out the internet thing here. There has to be a solution, right? We cannot have been put in the only building in Moscow without access to high-speed internet, surely. At least that’s what we’re telling ourselves.
I wish so much that I could tell you that this grand adventure is great fun. I wish I could tell you that I sail through every day, humming a happy tune, praying as I vacuum my floor and conjugate my verbs. I WISH I could tell you that—but the truth is that this adventure is hard. Every single thing we do is hard. Marc left for the little store that’s down the street to pick up a few things—only to find that they were out of everything we needed, so he had to catch a bus to the supermarket—turning a 30 minute trip into an hour-long trip. While Marc and Han were shopping this morning, I plugged the Xbox into the wrong kind of converter and blew it up. We got lost on the way to the clothing store yesterday, and ended up trekking around the wrong way. But there is always some good. Marc didn’t have to wait for the bus either way to the grocery, and it only took an hour instead of an hour and a half. The Xbox can be replaced. We were able to ask for (and understand) directions to the store. There is good when we want to see it. We just have to want to see it.
Tomorrow morning we leave on a three-day retreat with our team. Pray that it will be a refreshing time of learning and singing and worshipping and fellowshipping for us. We love our fellow missionaries here, and we enjoy every second we get to spend together. Pray for our team. This is a hard place. People are not welcoming. (Or as Irina said, “Russians are not glad you’re here.”) Life here does not necessarily get easier and easier as one adjusts to the learning curve. Pray that our time together with our on-field family is productive and restful and important for all of us. Please pray, too, for my sister Kay, who is having surgery tomorrow morning. We are trusting that all will go well and she’ll be home by noon.
This next paragraph is for those of you who are members of our home church. I listened to Alan’s sermon from last week, and it was, as usual, a barn-burner. Let me encourage you to never take for granted your church or her pastor. First Baptist Church of Middleburg is our sending church, and we couldn’t love and respect a place more than we do our beloved church. We have benefited from great programs, great teaching and preaching, wonderful worship, fantastic children’s programs…and an encouragement to seek God’s will for our lives in a way that led us to answer our call to international missions. If I’ve learned nothing else through following that call, I’ve certainly learned to trust God—with our careers, our children, our marriage, and our finances. He is faithful, my friends. I promise you’re not going to give Him more than He will give back to you. I have given Him an awful lot—and it’s pretty paltry in the face of His love for me. Trust Him—even in the midst of a dark, cold winter, I can promise you that you’ll never regret the decision to trust Him. Never.
Blessings to you and yours!
His,
Kellye
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