Family is FOREVER

Well, hi there! Long time no see!!

The LORD's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23

Hello! My name is Kellye Hooks. I live in Vienna, Austria. It's nice to meet you! :) Sorry I haven't written in quite a while. Honestly, we've just been running like crazy people in the last few months. Really, since we came back from Sochi--Marc has traveled nearly nonstop, which means the rest of life falls to me. And well...the rest of life, it turns out, takes up a lot of my time. So no big news, nothing terrible to report or great to report, no big announcement today--just a reflection on the last few months and how time is flying.

I get tons of questions about Marc's travel. Let me try to answer them all at once: Yes, it is part of his job. No, I don't particularly love it, but I live with it. No, I don't get to travel with him. Yes, we miss him a lot. Yes, he really loves his job. Yes, the trip after trip after trip is wearing him out. No, his feet aren't any better. There. I think that does it. Seriously, I appreciate the folks who encourage us through the travel. It IS hard. We do get sad when he leaves--and so does he. It's a weird mix, really, of loving what he does and hating to leave us yet again. And, as John has said in the past, it's just not as fun without Dad. (I'm more the 'make sure you brush your teeth' parent. I try to be fun. But I am not as fun as Marc.) So we are looking forward to the end of the current trip to Ukraine, when he will be home for a while. And we're really looking forward to vacation in late July/early August. We're really, really looking forward to that.

Han is in the States, visiting family and friends and looking at colleges. WHAT?!?! How is that possible? Sarah Beth flew in a day before Han arrived to surprise her in Dallas. If you haven't seen the video of her arrival on Facebook, you really should look at it. My girls have lots of weird names for each other and weird things they do--and the little paw gestures at each other in the video put that weirdness on full display. They are enjoying some time together before SB goes back home and Han flies to Alabama and Florida for visits. We're super thankful to family and friends who are so willing to jump in and help when we need it to make things happen for our kids. Such a help to us. Such a blessing.

It's cliche, of course, to say that time flies. But it does, doesn't it? I mean, how else would you put that? Yesterday, Hannah was 10 and declaring that she wanted to go home as soon as we arrived in the Moscow airport. Or face-planting in a snow drift outside the grocery store because she'd never had to walk in a snowsuit before. And today, she is a beautiful 17-year-old senior in high school, focused on her future and whatever adventure God has planned for her. Sarah Beth, for heaven's sake, is MARRIED! And John towers over me. You know, if I really sit and think about all of that for too long, I could really work myself into some sadness. Because weren't all those memories and great times really wonderful? And what if they don't need me anymore, once they're all grown? Who will I be, then?

The truth is that I will still be their Momma. My Momma is still my Momma. I still need her. I still ask for her help. I depend on her to do all the creative stuff I'm incapable of doing. (I bet that gets old--I like this, Momma. Make it for me, please.) But from my own relationship with my Momma, and my growing relationship with the girls and John, I also know that I get to be not just their Momma, but also their friend. My family are the poster children for family friendships. I adore my sisters as my sisters, but they are also my dearest friends. My darling aunts, my parents, my sisters and cousins...these are people contractually obligated from birth to adore me. And I'm for that! My girls hated hearing me say it when they were in Moscow and Czech Republic, sharing a room, but it's absolutely true--friends will come and go, but your family is FOREVER. Be nice to one another. That's worked out for us. I adore my children, of course, but as they become the people they are going to be, as they grow and stretch into adulthood, I also really, really like them. Every stage of life as a parent is bittersweet. But as they grow into adulthood and yes, away from my nest, I'm finding that the sweet far outweighs the bitter. I'm proud of them. I'm glad they love and like each other. I like that they care about other people, about the 'least of these,' that they have sweet, compassionate hearts. And no one on earth makes me laugh more than my three oddballs. That, surely, is a testament to God's grace and blessing, and certainly an encouragement to all you young mothers out there. Because if I didn't mess up my kids too badly, you certainly won't, either.

Well, after the horror of a massive computer failure last week, I am backed up on business stuff to take care of today, so I must make my way to that. And, of course, my exercise bike is calling. It's saying some not-very-nice things about my exercise regimen of late, so I'd better answer its call. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that God has blessed you with family you love but also like, and that you don't have paperwork to take up your whole day like I do. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Four little words

Marc and Nan at the Vienna Airport--we had a great week with her before she left for Bulgaria.

One of my favorite pictures from Sochi...why? Because we look like we have halos, and this is the only way I'm going to have a halo. :)

He is not here, for He has risen, just as He said. Matthew 28:6a

We are back in Vienna after a WONDERFUL meeting with colleagues in Great Britain. We had a really relaxed and fun time meeting some new folks and getting to see some folks we've known for quite a while. Especially great for Marc were several break out sessions that were focused on what he does, and when I found him recutting a video yesterday based on what he learned in one of those sessions, I knew the meeting had really had an impact on him. (He's usually too busy to go back and recut anything.) So we're really grateful for the time with colleagues, but also really happy to be home. Marc leaves again on Sunday for a week, but after that his travel schedule slows down a bit. Or at least that's the way it looks right now.

Last Sunday was an oddity in our lives, because it was Easter for everyone. Because we have so many friends who celebrate holidays on the Orthodox rather than the Western calendar, we generally celebrate both Christmas and Easter twice. But Western and Orthodox Easter fell on the same day this year. We were in London for a couple of days, and we watched the Easter sermon by the Archbishop of Canterbury. (We celebrated Easter early when Hannah was home for part of her spring break.) It was strange not to be in church on Easter Sunday, but it did give me the chance to really re-read the Easter story from all four Gospels. As with any really great story (and I'm not using story in a fictional sense, just in a sense of the telling of something that happened), the Easter story is one that shows me something new every time I read it. This year, what struck me most were four words that offer a great deal of hope and promise for those of us who believe.

For so many people I know, the last few months have been a season of deep heartbreak and real questioning of God. I'm not necessarily talking about those bad things that happen to us because we've done something. In our family, one of our 'Hooksisms' is that you get what you get and you don't throw a fit. (Hear that? That was all three of my kids rolling their eyes.) In other words, when you do something wrong, you take the consequences without whining about it. No, I'm talking about the things in life that blindside us. Things that cause us heartache and heartbreak, but that we didn't cause in any way. The death of my friend's daughter in a horrific car accident. The move to hospice for the wife of our youth pastor in the States. Other heartaches too personal to share publicly--don't we all have those? Where is God when these things happen? And how can we trust Him when we don't understand what He's doing? And how can we have faith when it seems He has deserted us?

I'm pretty sure that the disciples of Jesus felt the same way. After all, their Messiah, the person in whom they had put all their trust, was gone. Yeah, yeah, He said some stuff about rebuilding the temple in three days, but who can even understand what that means? Devastating loss. Heartache. Heart break. Sound familiar? But then the women show up at the empty tomb, and the man in white asks them--why are you looking for Him here? He has risen, just as He said. And it's the just as He said that is comfort and hope in a desperate season.

To me, surely the claim that He would rise from the dead and conquer the grave was the most outrageous claim Jesus made. (Well, the Son of God thing was pretty outrageous, too, but work with me.) Death is death. Final. Not an ellipsis but a period. Right? But He rose, just as He said. And if I can believe and trust in the Savior who did this outrageous, impractical, incomprehensible thing just as He said He would, then I can take His other claims and promises as true, too. God doesn't need to prove Himself to me, but again and again in the Bible, we see Him reassuring us through His actions that He is who He says He is. Even when we don't understand. Even when we are heartbroken. He is still the Savior who says He will not leave nor forsake us. He is still the Messiah who comes to claim His own. His plans are still to prosper us. Even when we don't understand what He's doing.

As I grow older and (hopefully) more mature in my faith, I realize and increasingly come to grips with the idea that there are many things that are simply outside my comprehension. I am not capable of understanding seventh grade math, for example, or how to update my computer successfully. And, of course, there are things that have happened--to friends, to family, to me--that I may never understand. But I know Him. I know He is trustworthy. I know He has my best at the center of His will. Even when it hurts. Even when it's devastating. I cling to the promise that He is who He says He is. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Amen.

Well, it's time to get the boys moving and start the day. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you are believing that He will do just as He said in your life and the lives of those you love, and that you are also almost through with seventh grade math. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Why I love my crazy Momma

The three Hodges girls and their husbands...we seriously hit the jackpot in the husband department--three really great guys.

Momma and Daddy with Nan and John last summer

Okay, this is usually my attempt at being serious, but today is my mother's birthday, so for fun, I decided to do a top ten list of all the reasons I love my crazy Momma.

10. She is...unique. (It's her birthday, so I'm using her word. I usually say odd or weird, or sometimes crazy.) She sees the world in a uniquely Betty fashion. Which leads to number 9...

9. She is side-splittingly hilarious. If you've heard any of the three of us tell a story and laughed, it's because our mother can flat out tell a story that will make you laugh until you cry.

8. She is really, really creative. If you know her, you know that she sews and quilts. But did you know that she has also made me dolls, created playmates for my cousin (remember the mice, Morgan?), came up with a really cool gift idea when I graduated from high school (coupons for clothes with hilarious little sayings on them--the woman can make a pun with the word bison, trust me), and just generally can look at something and imagine how it could be something else. I did not, by the way, inherit this trait.

7. She is FIERCE. Seriously. Don't mess with us. You will bring on her ire, and you do not want a piece of that.

6. She is super smart. Don't play Jeopardy with her in the room. It is not fun. You know why? She knows a lot of stuff that you've never even heard of, and she will recall it before you can spit out any kind of answer. Just do yourself a favor. Watch something else when Jeopardy is on. You'll embarrass yourself.

5. She has super-human memory powers. She often begins sentences with, "You remember when you were five and we went to Indianapolis for that fair?" No, Momma. No, I don't. I can barely remember why I walked into the living room.

4. She is all in for her kids and grandkids. That means she has facebook and watches it daily to see what we're all up to and if we're ok. She is interested in every detail. She is all about where they go to college, who they are dating or marrying, and whether or not they have a date for prom. Seriously. My Momma CARES about us. Never, not even once in my whole life, have I ever wondered if she was on my side. YES. She is ALWAYS on my side.

3. She raised us to be friends. I've said it before, and I'll say it again--my sisters are my best friends. They love me more than is logical. My parents seriously raised us to know that family is just a little below God in the order of importance of things in your life. Others may come and go, but your sisters are there FOREVER. (And they remember when I was a size six. That's very valuable to me.)

2. She has never, not once, made me feel guilty for taking her grandbabies--who lived ten minutes away before we came overseas--across the ocean. Not once. NEVER. And let me remind you that when we told my parents we were coming overseas, my Momma was bald from radiation and chemo. She could have pulled the guilt card, but she never did. You have to love that kind of Momma. And along with that, she has made super-human efforts to be daily involved in my kids' lives. Across the street, across the ocean--makes no difference. She loves us all unrelentingly.

1. She loves Jesus more. She has lived her entire life in front of us serving others out of the overflow of her love for God. It's hard to go wrong when you have a Momma like that.

Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you have a crazy Momma you love more than life like I do, and that you are ridiculously thankful for her, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

When I have a bad week...

At Russian Christmas in January--love this guy a lot!

In the mountain athlete's village in Rosa Khutor at the Olympics--what an amazing experience!

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

I don't know if ever, in the almost 8-year history of this blog, I have gone this long without writing. Obviously, during our time in Sochi, there simply wasn't time. But it has taken me a while to get back to what passes for normal, and trying to put my thoughts about anything into actual words was just too much for me to comprehend. I couldn't do it. And I'm still not totally prepared to talk about Sochi, or maybe I'm prepared, but I don't think I can do it justice, yet. In many ways, it was an astounding experience. And I want to give it what it deserves, and I don't think I'm there quite yet. It was truly wonderful, amazing, fabulous...name an adjective that means 'great.' But details and examples and stories...they feel too personal, still. I'm not sure that will make sense to you. But in a way, in a very real way for me, it was awe-inspiring to watch God work. Not in the way we usually use 'awesome,' but in the actual meaning of the word, it was awesome. Again and again and again, we were humbled by the way He showed up, held our hands, patted our backs, and kept us moving forward. He acted, as the verse above says, in perfect faithfulness.

But as we all know, life marches ever forward. Every mountaintop experience, and I would say that Sochi was a mountaintop experience, is followed by some time in the valley. That's life. And this past week, in particular, has been a rough one. Marc left for Ukraine to do news coverage last Friday, arriving home yesterday morning. About ten minutes before he left, I found out that my beloved friend, Kimmie, had lost her daughter in a terrible car accident. Marc left for the airport--literally--to the sound of my sobs. That could not have been easy for him, and it was certainly awful for me. So I spent the week mourning for my friend, mourning that I couldn't be there with her, and mourning that Marc was out of the country in the midst of all of this. Plus, he got to be in Ukraine, a place I have a deep love for, and I was kind of jealous about that. Even with the troops on the border, I would have liked a trip to Ukraine. So on Wednesday, the day Kimmie was saying goodbye to her daughter, I had a royal pity party. I don't mean I felt bad. I mean I cried LOUDLY. Every bad experience, every bad circumstance, missing my kids, my friends, my parents, my sisters...name it. I probably cried about it. I actually ruined a pair of contacts by crying. No kidding. And I was not pleasant. Ask poor John. He was stuck with me. Ask my friend here who called me. I was not pleasant.

Finally, when I calmed myself down, I had to take a hard look at why I was so upset.  Why was I upset? Well, for one, someone I love so dearly was hurting so badly, and I couldn't be there. First, let me be clear. She was completely surrounded by people and didn't need me. I wanted to be there because I wanted to be there for her. But I knew she wasn't walking this path alone. Plus, of course, with the internet, I've been able to chat with her every day. So what else had me upset? Well, Marc was in Ukraine. And Ukraine and Russia are all upset with each other, and we love both countries so much, and the conflict was scary and upsetting to me. And what else? I missed my Momma and Daddy. Yep. I'm 46, and I cried because I miss my Momma and Daddy.

I don't usually have days like that. I'm too practical a person to spend a day in that kind of teary mode. But I just let myself have the day. I cried. I read books. I stayed away from my computer. I did some cleaning. I did not talk to a ton of people. I just shrugged my shoulders and thought, well...it's a bad day. Tomorrow will likely be better. And you know what? It was. Of course, some of that is because Marc was back in the apartment by 9:30, and he brings sunshine with him when he walks in--just his presence always makes me feel better. Some of that is because I prayed a very specific prayer for Kimmie, and in a message from her overnight, I was able to clearly see that God had answered that prayer. And some of it is just that I've done this relationship with Jesus thing for quite a while, and I know Him. He never leaves. He never forsakes. To quote Toby Mac, we lose our way, we get back up again. (I know. I quoted Toby Mac. I'm so cool.) He is absolutely, 100% faithful. Ever near, ever listening, ever comforting...even during a royal pity party. He knows me. He loves me, anyway. Grace, grace, grace. That is just all grace.

Maybe you never have a really bad day. Maybe your life is all sunshine and butterflies. But I'm betting it's not. All of our lives, it seems to me, are constituted by highs and lows and days of just status quo movement. Nothing big, nothing little...just life. I think the comforting thing to me is that God wants to be part of all of it. I look at my prayer journal, and I'm astounded by the way He answers even the 'silly' prayers--about my back hurting, or a test Sarah Beth has, or how to answer this or that email. Every single thing, good and bad, He wants to be a part of it all. And perhaps, over these years overseas, that is the thing about my relationship with God that has changed the most. I have finally accepted the idea that He loves someone like me. Intense, introverted, book-loving me. He knows me, and He pursues me daily. Every part of me. The good on the outside part, where I am looking like a pretty good Christian. The bad on the inside of me part, where I am often snarky and rude and selfish and prideful. And the part that has a pity party big enough to ruin a pair of contact lenses. He loves it all. I don't get it. I don't understand it. But my, oh my--I'm surely grateful for it. Surely, surely.

Well, I think I'm going to go start another book. I know--how can one person read that many books? I promise I don't just read books all day. But in any spare minute I have that isn't occupied with something else, I fit in some reading. Plus, it's Friday night, so Marc is at band practice, and John and I have kind of a quiet tradition. I read a book while he plays Pokemon. It works for us. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you know and understand that the God of absolutely everything loves every single part of you--even the ones you don't love so much, and that your sweet girl is coming home from boarding school tomorrow, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!

My saddest Christmas decoration...and one of my favorites.

Our sweet advent calendar. If you're wondering, it's stuffed with Scripture and chocolate umbrellas.

Me and my man in our beautiful city after John's Christmas concert...yes, my hair is as long as it looks here. :)

The people who walk in darkness will see a great light; those who live in a dark land, the light will shine on them. Isaiah 9:2

It's cold and gray outside, but I'm sitting in my cozy apartment with my Christmas tree lit up, sipping hot tea from my beautiful Polish pottery tea set with the reindeer and holly berries, so life is pretty sweet. We went to John's Christmas concert last night in a beautiful church here in Wien, then walked around downtown before getting Burger King for supper and heading home. It was REALLY cold, but who cares when you live someplace that looks so gorgeous? Wien is beautiful year-round, to be sure, but she does some of her very best work at Christmas. Your city might have Christmas decorations, but ours has big chandeliers lining the walkway. Seriously. It's gorgeous. Marc said last night that living in Wien during Advent is like living in a Christmas carol for one month every year. And it's true. It is like that. Not that normal life doesn't go on, and not that there aren't still stresses and problems to deal with, because there are. But there is something lovely about living someplace that does Advent/Christmas so well.

And my little apartment is so CUTE! I am not a decorator, but Marc does a fine job of putting stuff together, and there are cute little decorations all over the place, including our sweet Christmas tree. Yes, it's artificial, but it is a really pretty artificial tree that I got from amazon for a steal, and it looks great every year. And different decorations, of course, have different meaning to me. Some are funny--little things the kids have made over the years, the ugliest ornaments on earth (a gift from two dear friends in Florida that has--literally--traveled with me wherever I've gone), precious mementos of places we've lived and people we've loved...just like your place, every little thing has meaning or reminds me of some precious memory. But of all our beautiful decorations, one of my favorites is also probably the ugliest. It's three little trees, decorated in gold ornaments, in three little wicker baskets. Those trees are cheap, they are bendable, they do not necessarily fit in with the beautiful decor from our time in Austria. But it's their meaning, the memories they bring to mind, the reminder they convey that makes them so special.

If I live in a Christmas carol here, that was not the case in Moscow. First of all, Russians celebrate Christmas in January, so December 25th is just another day to them. There is no silent night on Christmas Eve if you live in a construction zone, which we did. And the big holiday in Russia is New Year's, which is a giant BIG DEAL. So there are Christmas-y things around, trees, etc., but they are (or at least were, then) mostly for New Year's. By our second Christmas there, those things didn't bother me as much, especially because my Daddy and nephew came to visit, and I was 'used to' the way things were done in Russia. But that first Christmas, after only a couple of months there, with culture shock completely taking over our lives, the pressure of studying the language and homeschooling three kids...well, let's just say I was feeling a little Grinch-y. And to make things worse, Christmas Eve fell on a Sunday that year, so we went to church, which sounds like it would be very Christmas-y. But remember, it's not Christmas Eve in Russia. It's just December 24th. So no mention was even made of Christmas. I excused myself to go to the bathroom, then stood outside the Korean Church that met in the same building, crying and listening to them sing Christmas carols in Korean. No kidding. I was pitiful. Then--just to make sure I spread the joy--I went home and made my poor sister, Cathy, miserable by sobbing on the phone to her. (Ask her, she will tell you--worst Christmas EVER.) I hadn't had the foresight to pack Christmas cookie cutters, so our Christmas cookies were more blobbish than star-like. As I sat in my Moscow apartment, looking at the snow and ice, I felt completely justified in my misery. Totally and completely justified.

Of course, things took a turn that evening. We celebrated with dear friends, had a lovely time of worship together, and laughed until we cried. By the time we got home, I did feel better. And Christmas the next morning was lovely. It might have just been another day to the workmen constructing the building in front of ours, but in the Hooks Hacienda, it was definitely Christmas. We skyped with family, ate traditional foods (okay, they had to be tweaked a little), opened presents, and just generally made merry. Yes, we missed our family. And yes, we missed all the fun of Christmas in Florida (hot tub, anyone?). But we really had a nice day.

So what does that have to do with three ugly little trees that we've kept all these years? That first year, they were the only decorations we could find and afford. We also had three blue ones, but I have no clue where they are. I actually think Sarah Beth found them at a grocery store in our neighborhood and brought them home. That was also the year that she randomly found a coffee mug with Florida written on the side. (She was always a very good scavenger--finding the stuff I was in too much of a hurry to see.) Why keep them? Well, certainly they remind us of that first year, of how poor we were, or how things really did turn out okay in the end. They have sentimental value, for sure, representing our first Christmas overseas, how far we've come, and how much we've grown. But for me, they mostly are a reminder that Christmas isn't about me. The joy of Christmas has nothing to do with how well-decorated my apartment is, how great my situation is, how beautiful my city is, or how much money I have to buy presents and decorations. There is nothing wrong with enjoying all those things, and I do. But the joy of Christmas is the Good News of Jesus. No matter how much they light up downtown Wien, we still live among a people who have walked and are walking in darkness. And no matter where you are when you are reading this, you live among people who have walked and are walking in darkness. But there is light, friends. And that Light has come that we may have life--abundantly! You know why we ended up having a good Christmas that first year overseas? Because no matter where we are, no matter whether it's Christmas there or not--good news of great joy for all people is this--a child was born in Bethlehem. And He saved us from our sins. He saved me. Joy to the world, indeed.

Well, there are Christmas cards to write, meetings to arrange, and cookies to be baked. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that the good news of Jesus brings you great joy year-round, and that you are setting your DVR to record The Sound of Music tonight, too. Blessings to you and yours! And Merry Christmas!

His,
Kellye

I love Facebook...and I hate it

Han and a friend from BFA--what a blessing to get to see her so happy!

We never did get a totally successful family pic this weekend, so this is as close as we came to it.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Your sight, O LORD, my rock and my Redeemer.  Psalm 19:14

Whew! What a weekend! We had the choir from Black Forest Academy, including our darling Han, here for the weekend on choir tour. We had a blast, but by the time we saw them off yesterday morning early, we were WORN OUT! We had such a great time, though. If I had to pick a favorite moment of them being here (besides having all of them--52 in all--squeezed into our apartment), I would have to say their performance at our church here in Wien. We love our church, and to have them there and see the kindness and enthusiasm with which they were welcomed was really encouraging to our hearts. And the kids! Well, if you've read this at all, you know of my love for all teenagers (it's a sickness, really), so to have time with this many at once...heavenly. A gift from God. That we also got to be with dear colleagues and laugh and talk and pray and all the other stuff we love about the body of Christ...just bonus blessings. I'm reminded, yet again, that just when I think I can comprehend the blessings God has showered on my life, He just heaps on more. Goodness gracious--to be loved by the God of Everything is great!

This week, of course, it's back to reality. Laundry. Housecleaning. Expense Reports. And Thanksgiving, of course. But mostly, it's just the normal life for us this week. That means working on mundane stuff--sorry, but I'm including my expense report in that--and also some really fun stuff, like an Advent project for the kids at our Russian-language church. In other words--just normal stuff. Because isn't every week, every day, every second filled with whatever 'normal' is for each of us? And that's a mixture of mundane, fun, encouraging, discouraging...whatever life is doling out at this particular moment, day, or season. And that's where Facebook can be a boon and a blessing, or it can be a real problem.

I love Facebook. I have a Twitter account, but I don't really understand it. I just have it so I can follow my girls. But I love Facebook. I love seeing all your pictures, and hearing about your triumphs or your funnies or your goofy life. I love praying for you and sending you encouraging notes. I love posting pics so that my parents and sisters can keep up with my kids and participate in their lives. And I love the sweet, encouraging notes I get from family, colleagues, friends, and former students. Some days, on really dark days, those notes...they are literally gifts from a loving God. They really are.

I also detest Facebook. I am put off by political rants. I detest those things that say I don't love Jesus if I don't click 'like' on something. I do not like the anger or the entitledness or the bad things I sometimes see on Facebook. But the thing I like the least is my own tendency to be judgmental, passive aggressive, or fake on Facebook.

Here's the thing: I'm not ever going to post a political rant. I'm a Jesus girl, and I'm pretty serious about it, so the chances of you thinking I don't love Jesus because I don't click 'like'--I'm not really worried about that. And I try to be very careful about the things I share, just in case someone might be offended or turned away from Jesus by it. (I'm not always successful at that. I tend to overlook stuff that in my brain I'm just ignoring, like bad language.) But it is in my nature--and yours--to look at someone else and feel superior. It is in my nature--and yours--to post passive-aggressive statuses about people we genuinely love but are too cowardly to confront. And it is in my nature--and yours--to want everyone to think I have it all together.

So here is my disclaimer. My Facebook is generally positive, because at this point in my life, I am working really hard at being positive in who Jesus is and not whatever my circumstances are. But sometimes, my cat's litter is smelly and I don't want to clean it up. Sometimes, there are stacks of dishes in my sink. I have a fruit fly problem I cannot get rid of. There are weeks where I put 'take a shower every day' on my to-do list, in order to make sure I don't just stay in my Gator jammie pants all day. I struggle with my weight and my self-image. I can be grouchy and awful. In fact, left to my own devices, I AM grouchy and awful. I can be unpleasable. And I sometimes think I am better than other people. While it's not pretty, that is reality.

Here, though, is the good news, quite literally: in all my yuck, whether I show it to you on Facebook or not, Jesus loves me. He is never content to leave me in the messes of my own making. He sees me as someone created by God, someone with potential, someone who can, in His power, not be anxious about anything, but with prayer and thanksgiving, praise Him for everything. He sees the real me, and He loves me, anyway. And He loves all those other people--the political ranters, the Jesus 'like'rs, the angry, the passive-aggressive, the superior--just as much. He died for my junk just like He died for yours. And if I really concentrate on who He is, on how much He loves me, on how much He loves you, too...then I can exercise some control and keep my statuses free of the passive-aggressive and superior. I can be truly thankful. I don't have to be ugly or sarcastic or nasty on my wall or on yours...unless you're a Georgia fan. And then you kind of get what you get. (That was for my Russia family. You know who you are.) But really, no joke...if I keep my eyes on who He is, then I can love everyone, no matter if they agree with me or not, no matter if their politics are the same as mine, no matter if they aren't all that lovable. Because He loves us. He really does. I know it firsthand. Because I really was lost, and now I really am found...by the God of the Universe. It's a pretty great thing.

I love following you guys, knowing what your kids are doing, praying over your hurts, sharing in your joys...I really do. My goal is--and I'm pretty sure this isn't original to me--to use Facebook as a way to love people better, more completely, in a more Christ-like fashion. If that means telling a joke or passing on something silly someone said (usually John or I, by the way), then I'm up for that. If it means posting pictures of my girls and boy and their lives, you know I'm ALL about that. And if it's speaking a little bit of encouragement into your life, then I'm so honored to do that. Because each of you, in your own way, make my life better. Thanks for that. Really. Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you love this season of thankfulness, and that your expense report is already finished. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye

Pumpkins, shots, and beautiful feet: A challenge to Southern Baptists

One of my favorite pictures from our retreat--Dad and his boy share a moment on the Adriatic.

Me and my men...I am a blessed woman.

Working, working, working...making the schedule for volunteers was no little task.

How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news, who publishes peace, who brings good news of happiness, who publishes salvation, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.” Isaiah 52:7

I'm taking a much-needed break from cleaning toilets this morning to write this. You see, today is the day Marc comes home. He's been gone a lot in October, and I've been really sick a lot in October, so our flat is, well, not the tidiest it's ever been. So I made this list on Monday of things I really wanted to accomplish, and deep-cleaning the toilets was on the list to get done before he came home. Now, I clean the toilets weekly. But this is the tooth-brush-wielding, gloves-and-a-sponge-and-serious-scrubbing kind of cleaning. Not glamorous, but definitely necessary. So why share this information with you? Because I do some of my best thinking when I'm scrubbing stuff. No kidding. And I was thinking about Christmas and Lottie Moon and our life overseas and the pumpkins I have to finish processing today, and it seemed like enough stuff for a blog. So here I am, taking a break, writing this blog. (Too much information? I'm fairly certain this isn't how Dickens or Austen or Bronte were inspired, but since I never claimed to be any of them, I guess it's okay to look into my process--just in case you ever wondered, "What made her think of THAT?" Now you know--toilet scrubbing made me think of that.) 

We can't get pumpkin in a can here. Maybe that's not a big deal for anybody else, but my family is pumpkin crazy, so I had to figure out a long time ago how to make pumpkin stuff from actual pumpkins, instead of just dumping a can of pumpkin into whatever recipe. (I bake them, season them a tiny bit, and process them with a food processor for storage, in case you were wondering.) I did the baking last night, while I was chatting with Marc and Hannah.  So today is the scraping, processing, and baking the seeds part of the process. Not really fun, but not something I mind a lot, if only because I love having it on hand for fall recipes. Plus, it makes the flat smell like Thanksgiving when they are baking. It's actually kind of lovely. And to be honest, it tastes better than the canned stuff. It really does. So it's worth it to me to go to the trouble of doing it for myself. A lot of my overseas life is like that. It's more convenient to have the stuff from America that's already done for me, but the 'real' stuff tastes better and is certainly healthier. I've learned to make a lot of 'real stuff' over the last six years, to the point that it seems normal to me. I don't think about pumpkin processing or making my own maple syrup or any of the other stuff I do here, because it's life as I know it and am used to it. Sometimes, life as we know it is simply a matter of getting used to doing things the hard-but-better way until it becomes normal. Sometimes, life as we know it is falling into old, ugly habits that entangle and bind us and seem too much trouble to get rid of for us to bother. Maybe that's not a problem for you, but for me--I have a whole list of stuff that, given the opportunity, will take hold and feel really comfortable for me, because they are easy. Anger, ugliness, bitterness...left to my own devices, these things are easy for me. Maybe for you it's laziness or complacency or any myriad of other 'deadly sins.' (Aren't they all deadly? For the wages of sin is death...) Or what about this one--getting so caught up in every day life and all its pettiness and struggle and minutiae, and forgetting to be broken for the lost around us. Europe is 99% without Christ. I have good news of great joy--salvation is here. But I live in a lovely city full of beautiful, kind, "good" people (at least for the most part). They do not see the need for their own salvation. And I haven't been everywhere in Europe by a long stretch, but my guess from speaking to colleagues is that they find the same attitude. Jesus? We are past that. That is in our history, not our future. But our neighbors are kind. They do not steal from us. They do not curse us in the street. How easy to become complacent and fail to be broken. My prayers this morning were for Vienna, for Austria, for my neighbors, certainly, but also for my own heart, that it would be broken by the darkness and lostness of this place.

What about you? Where are you broken for? I got tickled this week, because on facebook, some friends of ours from our home church were very excited to get shots. Lest you think them really strange, they were getting shots because they are going to another country on a trip, and they are making sure that they won't have any problems with things they might not be around very often in Middleburg, Florida. Their joy and excitement, even in the face of shots, which nobody likes, was palpable from 3,000 miles away. It made me smile and giggle a little. Because their excitement and joy is not about going to a place, but bringing Jesus to that place. Yes, they will see some neat stuff, for sure. But they bring Jesus. They are the people whose beautiful feet are bringing good news to the nations. And they are joyful at the prospect that God is allowing them to get shots and travel far away and minister to people whose language and culture is very different from their own. I love working with volunteers for that reason. Their energy and excitement and joy is contagious, and it often serves to rejuvenate my jaded heart. My friends and their excitement renewed my spirit. God honestly used their shots to boost my attitude and renew my commitment to what we are here, on this continent, to do. Their feet are beautiful, but their attitude and their hearts are gorgeous, too. 

Our organization talks a lot to churches about praying, giving, and going, about being on mission for Christ around the world. Gone are the days of 'bless the missionaries' kinds of prayers. If you are Southern Baptist, you likely have at least met one of your missionaries, whether someone has visited your church, your kids' camp, or your missions group. You've heard us speak, or one of our colleagues.  You have a face to put with 'missionary'--a real person whose life is invested somewhere that is not their own. Maybe you were moved to put an extra $10 in the offering plate for missions that morning. And whether it's $10 or $1,000, know that we are unbelievably grateful. We really are. But can I suggest something outrageous to you as we approach Lottie Moon Christmas Offering season? Pray about what you're supposed to give. Pray with an eye to the darkness of the world. Pray with the joyous attitude and beautiful feet of our friends from home. Pray knowing that every penny of the LMCO goes overseas and supports us and our friends and colleagues around the world. Pray and give out of a heart overflowing with the incredible blessings that God has poured out on you and broken for those who've never heard His name. Pray and give out of your own love--not for us, or even for the nations, but for the Savior whose birth we are about to celebrate. Pray and give with an attitude of joyful thanksgiving, because God saved a wretch like you. Pray and give so generously that even you are surprised by it. 

Well, friends, those pumpkins are not going to process themselves, and there is still a toilet to go. I know, I know... you're blinded by the glamor of my life. :) Wherever you are in the world, I pray that you have beautiful feet and are sharing the good news wherever you are, and that your husband is coming home tonight, too. Blessings to you and yours!

His,
Kellye