Who are you believing?

When did she stop being a little girl? My beautiful Sarah Beth, in her first formal gown, practicing hair styles for this weekend. Watching them grow up is a little bittersweet, isn't it?

I will bless the LORD who has counseled me, indeed my mind instructs me in the night. I have set the LORD continually before me; because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Psalm 16:7-8

As I have been going through different materials we received at FPO, I have had the chance to look at things told to us during training with the eyes of someone on the field. I am currently reading through the spiritual warfare training that Dr. Rankin did for us early in FPO, and I am finding it to be even more pertinent now that we are here on the field. I am an annotator by nature--I suppose it comes from being a literature teacher--and I have a million notes written on the handout he gave us. Two strike me as particularly appropriate this morning. The first says that Satan has no power to do anything except speak into our minds and lie to us. The second, under the subheading "He is a defeated foe," says he cannot win--all references to spiritual warfare are always in the context of victory. It's one thing to write that in a note taken from a well-respected and well-loved leader. It is quite another to live it out in my daily life.

When I worry, I worry about two things, and only two things: my kids and money. I'm pretty sure if I took a survey, many of you who read this would also worry about those two things, so I think what I'm learning probably applies to most of us. Currently, when I worry about my kids and money, I worry about tuition for next year. How are we going to pay it? How are we going to find the money for school, which we firmly believe our kids must attend? How, how, how? So last night, while Marc was away with the group here from the University of Mobile, I had a little nutty. Not a full-scale, all-out kind of nutty, but a pretty good one. When I shared with Marc my almost-more-than-I-could-handle fears about incurring debt, not finding the money, being put in a terrible position where our kids would have to be pulled out of school...you get the idea...he made the remark that I was choosing to believe in the wrong team. What better time, he asked me, for Satan to discourage us than when a visiting team might really encourage us in our ministry here? Did I think the timing was coincidence? Well, no, but...stink! Once again, Marc is the voice of reasoned faith to my voice of panic and terror. He reminded me, once again, that we serve a tremendous, faithful God, who would take care of what needed taking care of. He reminded me that God loves our kids more than we do, even. Did I think God brought us to Russia to desert us? No. I know He didn't.

Then I woke up this morning to read the notes from FPO. Satan's only capability is to lie to us. And, I'm ashamed to say, there are many days when those lies look really reasonable. But they aren't reasonable at all. The question, I would guess for each of us, ends up being who we believe. Do we believe Satan, who has no power and does not win? Or do we believe the Almighty God of the Universe, who created everything and controls everything with His mighty right hand? I have to admit to you, just writing it out like that makes my too-often choice to listen to the wrong voice look pretty childish and silly. He has proven Himself faithful again and again and again. Why would I believe anyone else?

So today, I'm going to choose to listen to the right Voice. I'm going to be encouraged by the ministry of the visiting team. I'm going to take my kids to the park for the concert tonight and enjoy some good ol' American music. I might even spontaneously break out into a dance of some kind. Okay, maybe I won't do that. I am Southern Baptist, after all. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that the only voice you listen to today is the one calling you closer to Jesus, and that your Slingbox is back up and working. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Guarding against the sinking sand

Nochka loves the top of the schkaff between Sarah Beth's bed and Hannah's. She perches there and watches the kids sleep at night.
Sarah Beth likes to taunt Nochka from her (much shorter) place on the ground. The Beatles poster was a gift from one of our English Club students.

But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love. I Corinthians 13 The Message

Mommy, does real quick sand pull you down that fast? John-John, while we watched The Princess Bride

It has already been quite a week here in the Hooks house, and it's only Wednesday! This morning Marc is getting ready to meet Jeff and Tim at our metro stop so they can go to the airport and pick up the team that is coming in from the University of Mobile. We are very excited about the things God is going to do through the team, and we're eyeing the schedule with some trepidation--it's going to be one busy week. Amidst all of the other stuff we must do, about thirty people will be here tomorrow for orientation and lunch, and we have senior banquet this weekend, which is taking a lot of our focus. Sarah Beth has a birthday party this afternoon, and we are also trying to finish up school for everybody. Yikes! Lots and lots and lots going on here.

It seems like I am always writing about something John-John has said, but he's really a pretty insightful little guy, if sometimes his insight is, well...unintentional at best. Last night we watched The Princess Bride as a family (before I went to bed at 9:00!), and he was enthralled by it. He has such a tender heart, though--and he doesn't always get jokes and sarcasm because of it. For example, we were all laughing at the scene where Wesley says to the unconscious giant, "Sleep well, and dream of large women." John-John turned to me and said, "It isn't funny when someone is hurt, is it, Mommy?" Hmmm....well, no, it isn't, but this is a movie, and we're laughing because...oh, forget it. Just watch the movie. But it was fun, and it's nice to be able to watch a movie that we can all enjoy, without language and innuendo that's hard to explain. John's question about the quick sand, though, made me think of one of my favorite songs. "In Christ Alone," a song on Travis Cottrell's Alive, Forever album, is the song I put on when I just want to stand at my kitchen window and lift my hands in praise. In the middle, he uses this familiar refrain:

On Christ, the solid rock, I stand
All other ground is sinking sand.
All other ground is sinking sand.

John's question made me think about everything but Jesus being sinking sand. And yes, I'm pretty sure the sinking sand pulls you down before you even know it's happening. It's all too easy for that to happen. Quiet time becomes something that you just can't find time for, you convince yourself that music is just music and tv is just entertainment, so it doesn't really matter what you watch or listen to...and before you know it, your life doesn't look any different from the lives of those around you who are unbelievers. One of the things I want most of all is to be different...so that those I come into contact with know and want whatever it is that makes me different. Marc and I have talked about the lies that Satan tell us that are so easy to believe--we will never learn the language, the kids will never make the transition, we will never have close friends here--but God tells us that is not the truth. He says He is with us no matter what. He says that we are not alone, and that if we ask, He will give us the world as an inheritance. He says that Christ is the solid rock, and the rest--the trivia, the minutiae of daily life, the way we feel--is sinking sand.

Well, it's time to get going and get some stuff done. We all got up early this morning--excited about all the stuff going on this week. It's fun to have teams in, though it is exhausting. Pray for us this week, that things will go smoothly and we won't get in the way of whatever it is God has in store for us. Also, please pray for a man named Kenny Pope. Along with his wife, Teri, Kenny leads our CEE teenagers in Bible study and worship at every MKR (Missionary Kid Retreat), and they are so important and special to us. Kenny had a serious spinal cord injury in a two-story fall this past weekend. Miraculously, after surgery yesterday, he is having some feeling in his feet and sitting up. I know that every MK in our region is praying like crazy for Kenny and Teri. Will you join them (and us)? Wherever you are in the world, I hope you're avoiding the sinking sand that can pull you under quickly, and that your fingers are not every color of the rainbow from the food color you put in the playdoh you made yesterday. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Today is Mother's Day, and I miss my Momma

My immediate family--Momma, Kay, Kellye, Cathy, Daddy--I am head over heels in love with these folks.
Me and my girls, Sarah Beth (16) and Hannah (11). We are the "blondinka" part of the family.
Me and my boys, John-John (7) and Marc (39 for a couple of weeks). These two make life a little like traveling in a world of stand-up comedy...I am never, ever bored.

To the ends of the earth I will follow.
There's nothing that I will not do.
You alone are my reason for living.
Jesus, my passion is You.
"My Passion" by Travis Cottrell

Well, here in Russia it is not Mother's Day, so we decided to forgo the holiday and have everyone get sick. Sound fun? So Marc went on to church, and the kids and I stayed home. John and Hannah are especially not feeling well, which is a bit disastrous, since we have a team of 17 people coming in this week. I'm not positive, but this round of illnesses may have something to do with the fact that our temps are again dipping into the low twenties at night, and the Russian government turns off the heat on May 1st. Hmmm...there just might be a connection. And, because the light came pouring in early this morning, I have been up, quiet timed, made a coffee cake for the fam, worked on my AP syllabus, done a 2-mile workout, and showered. Now Sarah Beth and I are working on hairdos for senior banquet this weekend, which is kind of like prom, so the hair must be just right. We aren't really ignoring Mother's Day--Marc is making my favorite dinner tonight (Kung Pao vegetables and fried rice--in case you're wondering or interested) for our weekly visit to church in OKC (thank You, Lord, for the internet). So that's how things are going here.

Of course, I miss my Momma today. Who wouldn't? I've come to the conclusion that it's okay to miss her, that this is simply the product of having a Momma I really like and love, and this is one of God's blessings. I'm not homesick, I am not jealous that the rest of the world is going to take their mothers to lunch after church--I just plain ol' miss her. Here's the thing about my Momma: she's a hoot. She is not boring. She is not dull. She is funny. She makes me giggle. Sometimes, things come popping out of her mouth that catch me so by surprise that I double over in laughter. Who wouldn't miss that kind of Momma?

And she isn't just funny. She is my biggest fan. No questions asked. Name something my Momma does NOT think I can do. I dare you. Brain surgery? No doubt, if that was the direction my life had taken, I would have been the best brain surgeon ever--at least according to my Momma. And don't get her started on me as a teacher, because you will not walk away from that conversation for a while. When I wanted to try out for a part in the musical at my high school, I was so nervous. My Momma said, "Just go in there and remember that you're better than everybody else." (She swears up and down this did not happen, but it did. Trust me. I was there.) Never once in my life have I said I wanted to do something that my Momma did not think I would be the absolute best at whatever that was. Never. I'm serious.

Funny, supportive--great qualities, to be sure. But above all, my Momma is a person of tremendous, overwhelming, do-not-get-in-God's-way faith. Here is my all-time best Momma story. When I told my Momma and Daddy that I was turning my back on my career, pulling up stakes, and moving their grandchildren to Moscow, Russia, because God told me to, I was just a little nervous. In fact, I threw up on the way to their house (gross, I know, but true). You see, my Momma was in the middle of chemotherapy. I was going to dare go sit down and tell her bald self that in the midst of all that was going on in her life, I was going to take her grandchildren away. Would you have been looking forward to that conversation? I was not. You know what my folks did? Nodded their heads, cried tears of joy ( I am not even kidding you on that), and talked about the ways in which they were honored by our call. My Momma did not throw a pity-party, did not question, even once, our call...just said that she was so proud of us, so thrilled with how God was at work.

You hear stories in missionary circles of people whose parents raised them in church, took them to missions night once a year, enrolled them in GA's or Mission Friends, and then balked when it was their kid who God called to Africa instead of someone else's. It is one thing to say you support missions. It is quite another to stand at the airport while your child walks away to some far-off land because God told them to go. It takes a commitment--to missions, certainly, but also to God--that is unflinching. It is hard, hands-and-feet Christianity...it isn't for the faint of heart or the Easter and Christmas churchgoer. I have said it before, and I'll say it again--I am the person my parents raised me to be. Do they miss me? Yep. No doubt about it. Would they want me to come home? Not if it meant turning my back on God's hand on my life. Never. So today is a day that I miss my Momma (and Daddy, too), but more than I miss her, I am thankful for having been raised to listen to the voice of God--and then to follow faithfully.

Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are hugging your mother tightly, or remembering her with love and thankfulness, and that the government has not turned off your heat so that your kids are snotty and gross. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Moscow: city--hero

...and that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled up to all the fullness of God. Ephesians 3:17b-19

Today is Victory Day in Russia, a celebration of the victory over Hitler and the Nazis (they say 'Gitler' here, and it never ceases to crack me up--I'm seriously like a two-year-old about the 'h' words that have g instead). Russians have every right to be proud of their history of standing up to Hitler in the Second World War. Read the history--the reason Moscow was saved from annihilation was that her citizens simply dug in and absolutely refused to be taken. We have heard stories of Stalin holding meetings in the metro to rally the troops. Citizens who fought to hold back the Nazis here are called partisans, and they were less military operatives than they were ordinary men, women, and children who simply loved their land so much they couldn't bear to see it taken. There is a fierce pride in being Russian. It is one of the many things I love about the Russian people collectively. Think of how much you love being American. Russians love being Russian.

I think it's easy to get caught up in the Cold War history of hostility between America and Russia. However, I will tell you that Russians are very interested in America, and I have never sensed hostility toward us because we're American. (Trust me--everybody in our building knows we are the Americans in apartment 54--especially since the children were playing with chalk and drew a welcome mat outside our building, complete with the word welcome spelled out in English.) Marc was with a trustee and his son in Red Square this week, where they met a retired Soviet General from WWII. He told the trustee's son to tell people in his school about Red Square, and to remind them that "Soviet soldiers and American soldiers fought shoulder to shoulder to save the world." Living in America, I'm not sure how much of a sense of that we have, but living in Europe, I see constant reminders--statues, memorials--of the immense price Europeans, and especially Russians, paid. Russia lost more of her citizens than any other country in the war. I'm certainly not downplaying America's role in the war, but I think we forget sometimes that other countries paid a high price to save the world, too.

This should be an interesting day. We are watching the parade on tv (you have to have tickets to even get off the metro stops at Red Square today) and having brunch as part of our lesson today. It should be fun. I am headed off to the store to buy the stuff for brunch, which should be a nice bit of exercise in the brisk morning air. Tonight, we have team meeting in preparation for the group of musicians coming from University of Mobile next week. Somewhere in all of this I have to deep clean my home...not sure when that's going to get done. Oh, well. By the way--the title of this blog is from my favorite billboard celebrating Victory Day. It has a picture of WWII soldiers, and an outline of part of the city, and it simply says "Moscow: city--hero." I couldn't have said it better myself. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are filled up with the fullness of God, and that you take some time today to thank God for the men and women who joined together in spite of ideological differences to save the world. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

I am definitely self-centered

Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness. Delight yourself in the LORD; and He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD, trust also in Him, and He will do it. He will bring forth your righteousness as the light and your judgment as the noonday. Psalm 37:3-6

I am well into my second cup of coffee this morning, so no guarantees as to how this blog will come off--may be one of my best, may be that I sound like one of the chipmunks. Don't know. No promises.

I've told you before that I have a notebook divided into different sections and that part of my quiet time is recording different scripture under those sections. At first when I read the above today, I wanted to place them under God's promises, but after looking carefully at the grammar (I know, I'm a dork), I placed the passage under God's Commands. These are sentences with an understood you as a subject--the hallmark of commands in the English language. Look at the commands here: Trust, do good, delight yourself, commit your way, trust in Him. These aren't suggestions--hey, if you want to, it might be a good idea to just let God do His thing. Nope. These are commands from almighty God. I'm pretty sure He wants us to take those seriously.

When I read these words, I sort of passed over them the first time. Then I looked at something we received at FPO--it's called a heartsearcher, with passages of scripture and questions for each month. This month, the first question is, "Are you self-centered? or Christ-centered?" Hmmm....I'm certainly Christ-centered, right? I've got the whole missionary thing going here, right? Left home and parents and career to come serve Jesus...surely that makes me Christ-centered. But when I really look at the above scripture, at the way God commands me to trust and delight myself in Him, to really focus on who He is and not on who I am...Stink! I'm not Christ-centered. I'm a big, giant, self-centered waa-waa! I'm worried about the elevator being out (eight flights of stairs, my friends...eight flights of stairs) and getting math in before school starts in the fall and how we're going to pay tuition in the fall. Does any of that sound Christ-centered? Nope. It doesn't. Sigh.

Here's what I have to say to you this morning. God is God. I am absolutely not. He was God before the mountains were here, before the world was born, from everlasting to everlasting. I am just a woman trying to be what He created me to be. If at any point in the writing of this blog (not this one, but all of them...you know what I mean) you have come away with the thought that this is all about me or Marc or the kids...I apologize. I want to tell you the ins and outs of our daily lives here in Russia, I want you to pray for us and for our mission, I want you to laugh at our foibles and mistakes. But most of all, I want to call you to trust and believe in a God so big, so trustworthy, that our minds can't comprehend Him. I want to glorify Him. I want to say with Paul that Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the worst, but He chose me for this because I am so weak, so miniscule, such a broken jar of clay that He would be even more glorified through me than through someone "good." I want you to care about me, for sure, but I pray on a daily basis that through this entire experience what you will see is way more than me. I pray that You will see Him, shining in all of His glory.

On a separate note, I would ask this morning that you would pray for our region. Central and Eastern Europe is the biggest region in the IMB, and a difficult one to work in, mostly because 75 years of communism made for a hard shell for the gospel to penetrate. This is a time of change and transition in our region, with lots of going in and going out and moving around and just being in flux. Would you pray for us, for our missionaries here, for the leadership who must negotiate all this change? Above all, would you pray that the Lord of the harvest calls out workers to come here? Thanks. Really.

Well, it's time to get ready for my Wednesday-morning time of humiliation and failure, or my language lesson, whichever you prefer to call it. I'm just joking, of course. It's a hard language, to be sure, but I think we're making headway. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are having a Christ-centered day, and that you will not spend your morning saying the lamp sits on the table, the couch sits on the floor, the rug lies on the floor, the artwork hangs on the wall....Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Caught in the middle

There was a rather long discussion as to which Beatle this is. I think the consensus was John Lennon. It's now hanging in Sarah Beth's room--a gift from Dasha to S.B.
Kasinya and Dasha with "King" Marc--he won the title by having the most points at the end of the party.
Marc's good friend, Sasha. Sasha is a lawyer here in Moscow, and he and Marc have become quite close.

Fearless warriors in a picket fence
Reckless abandon wrapped in common sense
Deep water faith in the shallow end
And we are caught in the middle.
With eyes wide open to the differences,
The God we want and the God who is
But will we trade our dreams for His
Or are we caught in the middle?
"Somewhere in the Middle"--Casting Crowns

I made a huge mistake yesterday morning. My mom had written an email containing some interesting news about a case I had been following back home, and so I went to the news archives of the local newspaper. I did read the article about the case, but then I went to the archives to read articles about various things going on at home. BIG MISTAKE!! You know what I found? Tons of people moving around in jobs within the school system that could have been me. I saw other people taking jobs that I would really have enjoyed. People moving positions from one school to another, opening new schools, pursuing dreams that were mine. After an hour, I turned off the computer and settled into some time with God, but not without renewing the lingering questions that have plagued me since we started this process. Why did I go to the trouble and expense of getting a master's degree in educational leadership if I was going to be a housewife in Moscow, Russia? Where is the common sense? What in the world am I doing here?

And then I went to church, where we sang not one, not two, but three hymns I know. (Even singing them in Russian is so exciting and fun for me.) And we were invited to a picnic next week by a friend at church. And then Marc and I went to a birthday party at the dorm of some of our students, where we spent three hours just making closer connections. On the way home, over a romantic date-night dinner of McDonald's "gamburgers" (don't ask me why, but it's also Gitler and Garry Potter in Russian), Marc reminded me that just when we feel like we can't be here, God gives us something tangible to hang on to, to do, to make us feel like there is no where else we could possibly be. When we were handed juice for the toast at the birthday party instead of champagne, when we were shown where the head of the Russian Orthodox church lives, when church traditions were discussed in casual conversation, I knew that we had already started to make connections that will allow us to present the gospel to these people we love so much. Even more, it made me realize that we had done a pretty good job already of making our beliefs known. They knew that our church was meeting on Saturday instead of Sunday, because every week we mention our church and how important it is to us. We have mentioned that we don't drink alcohol in casual conversations, and the champagne was no big deal--something we had dreaded dealing with (how do you remain true to your own convictions and beliefs without hurting people you love in a culture that is, quite literally, soaked in alcohol?). So there were tangible things we could hold onto yesterday to know that our lives here do matter. I may not be the head of a school. I may have opinions about education that no one really cares about here. But I do have something to offer, and God is taking my measly offering and turning it into something beautiful and good that glorifies Him.

A long, long time ago, Marc and I were in the New Members class at our church, and a guy in the class said something I'll never forget. He was a new believer, not just new to the church, and he had been sharing his beliefs. One of his friends asked him if he was going to become a fanatic, a Jesus freak. His reply has stuck with me all these years. He said, "Oh, Lord...I hope so." Make no mistake--it's hard to trade our dreams for His. Sometimes His dreams for us seem completely out of the realm marked by common sense and the American dream. But looking into the faces every Thursday of those He has entrusted to us, I am honored by the way He is at work here. And I'm all too aware that He is at work only because we said, "Yes" to whatever He had for us. It was our choice. On the darkest days here, I am brought back to reality by acknowledging that this was all about our choice to follow. Does that make us fanatics? I'm praying that it does.

We are enjoying a rare Sunday with nothing to do. Our church met yesterday due to the holidays (we meet in a dentist's office, and he had to work today), and we have no other commitments. What a blessings. We slept in, had a big breakfast, and we're about to go outside and enjoy the weather. It's a good idea to do so today--we're expecting snow on Tuesday and Wednesday. Snow!!! Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are not in the shallow end of faith, and that there is no snow in your forecast. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Learning lessons from John-John

O Timothy, guard what has been entrusted to you, avoiding worldly chatter and the opposing arguments of what is falsely called "knowledge"--which some have professed and thus gone astray from the faith. I Timothy 6:20-21

I have a large notebook I use during my quiet time. It is divided into sections: Praise and Thanksgiving, Confession, Intercession, God's Promises, and God's Commands. As I read God's Word every morning, I record various scriptures in the appropriate sections, and I use these as I pray. It's a combination of a technique I learned from a Beth Moore study and a technique I learned from Elbert Smith while we were at FPO. Because I am a person who puts a lot of emphasis on being faithful and disciplined in my quiet time, I can get so caught up in the routine that I find myself in a dry and weary land where there is no water. By praying the scriptures and making that the main focus of my time with God, I find that each morning is new and fresh, and I feel as though I've been with God and not just performed a routine.

I recorded the above scripture this morning. I am studying I Timothy right now, and I have read this command to Timothy about a dozen times so far in this study. But this morning, it was a personal charge to me as I prayed through some things with which I am struggling. It is hard to be here. We have talked to our closest friends on the field this week, and I can assure you that it's hard to be anywhere on the mission field. Nowhere is easy. The folks who went to London, where they aren't learning a new language? They're working with people groups that don't necessarily speak one language, but forty. Nowhere is there a mission field that's a breeze. I don't believe Russia is harder than anywhere else. But it's hard. I am so lonely here. And it isn't that people aren't nice, because they are. But we haven't made really close friends. I have completely lost my identity here. I have said a thousand times that I used to be a person who people respected, whose opinion mattered. Now I'm just another missionary wife. I have especially struggled with teaching next year. Some of you know that I have accepted a position teaching two classes a day at Hinkson Christian Academy in order to help pay for the kids to go there full-time. Because we are here under the International Service Corps program, our children's education is not fully paid for. We receive a stipend for each child. With the stipend and with me teaching two classes a day, we will still owe almost $5,000, which we are stepping out on faith that God will provide, because we certainly can't afford it on what we're making. I have struggled and struggled and struggled with this. I didn't come here to teach. If I was going to do that, I would have stayed in Florida where I made great money doing it. But the kids are terribly lonely. They desperately want to go to school at Hinkson and make friends. It isn't like homeschooling in America, where your kids are in a thousand activities and have a great church to go to. Without Hinkson, my kids would see no one except us during the course of a week. And while we love and adore our church, my kids don't speak enough Russian to really interact with the other kids much. Homeschooling is not something I feel called to, but something I did out of necessity, and while I wouldn't say it's been a disaster, it has made the transition to Moscow that much more difficult. So I agreed to teach these classes as a way to help my kids find a life here. But I have struggled.

So why tell you this? Is it just to complain to you about how hard my life is? Nah...give me a call and I'll just tell you that. :o) Here is what I've come to understand--God is calling me to faithfulness in this situation just like He called me to faithfulness to His call to be here. He is not calling me to necessarily understand why. He is not calling me to place my faith in what I can understand analytically. He is calling me to trust Him, not only with my precious children, but also with the abilities with which He has gifted me. When I met with the director at Hinkson the first time, he said, "We have prayed and prayed and prayed for someone who could start an AP Lit class, but there aren't many AP teachers running around Moscow. But look. Here you are!" I taught AP English for 17 years. It is fun and enjoyable to me, and the kids are always challenging and fun. I have thoroughly enjoyed the kids I've been teaching the last few months here. In many ways, they have helped me regain my identity as someone who has something to offer (besides being able to cook and clean). And if you could listen to my children talk excitedly about next year, about mission trips and retreats and field trips and friends...you'd know that God has provided a way for me to use my abilities to help provide those things for them. Hinkson is a God-send for them, a way for them to have some of the things they are missing the most from the States.

What does this have to do with John-John? Yesterday we were walking home from school, and he was saying that he really missed one of the boys who has had to leave Russia because of visa issues. He asked when he would be back, and I said, "I don't know, John-John. They're deciding what to do next." His reply? "No, Mom. They're not deciding. God is, right? God already knows what they need to do next. They're just listening. Right?" I was stopped in my tracks, literally, by my 7-year-old. "Of course, John-John. You're right. God knows. They're just listening." I thought about that this morning as I read Paul's charge to Timothy. I don't have to know. I don't have to decide. I don't have to rely on my own knowledge in order to do anything. I just have to listen and guard that which has been entrusted to me.

It's time for me to run and make breakfast before my language lesson. We had a great English Club last night, and we even received a gift from one of the girls' grandmothers for Easter, a delicious berry jam which is made from berries from that particular region of Russia. We also received an invitation to a birthday party on Saturday night, which we are very excited about attending. God is at work in ways I can't even comprehend. He is so good. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are guarding that which He has entrusted to you, and that your children are teaching you lessons, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Here's just a bonus funny: yesterday, Sarah Beth was doing her math, solving for x, and she said with a completely serious face, "Momma, what do Russians solve for? They don't have an x. Do they solve for ж (zh)?" I thought we would pass out from laughing. What a hoot my kid is!