Friends, Relatives, and Playdough Elephants

Hi. What to say? It's been good lately to spend time with some folks I've missed.

Last night Gracie crashed our house (that sounds more damaging than it was) and we watched Horton Hears a Who and took a walk under the stars with Connor and Mattie. On the way back we spotted something beside the road...it looked like an animal of some sort curled up on the ground. It was our cousin, James, hiding there to surprise us. So he got up and we stood around staring at the stars, which were out full force, and visited, and he walked home with us and we stood shivering in our driveway talking some more until he had to go home (they live next door). :)

Today Flic came over since she's in town this week, and we had lunch and had another walk and talked...it was so good to talk with her, and even be able to pray together. She has such an uplifting, joyful spirit that I was spurred on to just thank and love God more.

I've been thinking about a quote I read from an Emily Dickinson poem recently:

"Grant me, oh Lord, a sunny mind."

That's kind of become my prayer. I feel like I'm recovering from a depression of sorts, and my life feels so shaky sometimes. I feel like saying "No more storm clouds, please!" I'm rallying my strength for another go. I love Ukraine and I have good relationships there, and I know that's where God has me at this point, but I need a lot of strength and perseverence and just a deeper walk with God to continue. I need more of Him, really badly. And there seem to be some walls up in my life.

I have a lot of pics but not time to post them. But here's one of Ethan and I making playdough elephants soon after I arrived. He got playdough for his birthday. He built Who-Ville, as well...which looks a cluster of Cappadocian Fairy Cones. Bright purple and neon green ones. I added a Who train, but he came up with it and did most of the work.

I Don't Deserve It, But I Got It

Merry Christmas!

Well, Christmas came and has almost gone, and I've hardly stopped to realize it. I think my realizer is broken. Oh well. I probably need a break anyway :)

Mom jolted us all out of bed this morning at 7:30 to open our gifts. I was pretty incoherent, but mumbled that I thought the parents were supposed to get the kids up-- not the other way around! Even Ethan was peacefully slumbering...

Anyhow, once we were awake it was nice, and it wasn't too hard to forgive our well meaning mother. There was a big gift next to me, and they asked, "why aren't you opening it?" (Maybe I was still asleep?) Then Ethan piped up: "Maybe you're like Pooh Bear; you don't deserve it." Somebody's seen Winnie the Pooh and Christmas Too one too many times!

Everyone struggled with their gifts because Mom had taped the boxes shut (to make it more fun). Dad said, "Lots of anticipation and broken nails."

Ethan opened his presents, then sat on the floor arranging his Hersheys' kisses into piles according to color. I'm trying not to be too concerned...

I got a special suprise: My brother got me a camera, because I think mine was stolen when I was in Kiev on the metro. It's very nice, though I haven't taken a lot of pics yet because I haven't got the memory card yet. So now I have to make it up to him by taking lots of pictures when I get back to Ukraine. And now, for that matter.

Tomorrow we're leaving to stay the night at Queen Whilhelmina Lodge on a mountain in Arkansas with my grandparents, Uncle Doug, Aunt Robin, and cousins. We'll have some good cousin time and I'm looking forward to being on the mountain.

This afternoon we had a rousing (well, somewhat rousing) game of frisbee with these same cousins in the field, and watched Connor and James make fools of themselves...it felt good to laugh! I love being with my family. I just wish I didn't always feel like taking a nap. I told Mom that I wish I could just get "canned sleep." Just give me a can of sleep, to be taken internally. Then I won't have to waste precious time actually sleeping!

After Frisbee, we played a funny story-writing game indoors while wearing different styled hats. Mine was a blue baseball cap on backwards. We rushed back to our house for dessert (not something to miss!) and more visiting.

My thinker has suddenly gone the way of my realizer...so that's all for now...

Light of the World

"There's a song in the air! There's a star in the sky!
There's a mother's deep prayer and a baby's low cry!
And the star rains its fire while the beautiful sing
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a King!

In the light of that star lie the ages impearled
And that song from afar has swept over the world
Every hearth is a-flame and the beautiful sing,
In the homes of the nations that Jesus is King!"

(There's a song in the air, by Josiah G. Holland)

I love this song, and its cheerful melody reminds me to smile and hope. We always have hope because we are like candles in a dark night of the world, even when darkness threatens and confusion swells. Jesus reigns as King, and this is the time to celebrate...let all the homes of the nations come to know His light...

Being Home

I'm having fun being home with my family. Wow, it seems that Mom, Dad and I got considerably shorter while I was away (although they insist that I grew, and not just around). Connor, Mattie, and Ethan have shot up like bahaya in summer, and the best word to describe Mattie would be what Miss Brenda reported to me a few months ago: elegant. Ethan, now...while we were driving home from the airport I couldn't think of how to describe him...

"Ethan is so...so..."

"Romantic." He stated helpfully.

I was thinking more of something like "skinny" or "serious" but hey, romantic works too.

Last night we celebrated his 6th birthday, and today we played playdough and made pink and orange elephants. He says I'm fun to play with.

It's so fun being home. There are so many people I want to get with, and I'm still feeling sleepy, but I can just go with the flow. Reverse culture shock is subtle but real. Mexican food is a lot spicier than I remembered. I have to think twice about what my zip code is, and I was a little unsure yesterday about using my debit card. There are so many cars here. It really isn't supposed to be 75 F five days before Christmas. People have changed, and I've changed, and there's a lot going on inside. Processing life...but it's not a bad thing.

It feels wierd not to remember where things belong in my own house, not to have my own chores, and more oddnesses. "Home" has changed. But it's all part of something bigger and better in my life. So I'm excited and very pleased to be here.

I'm enjoying my bed, the Christmas tree, my brother's music, my family's dear hugs, being with friends...

Connor, Mattie, Ethan, and I are leaving in just a bit to see The Tale of Despereaux with Lauren, Gracie, and their two younger brothers...what fun :) I'm a hopeless sucker for mouse stories, so I hope the movie does justice to the beautiful book. The heroism still makes me swoon.

Stranded in Memphis

(Written three days ago...)

Well, I just plugged my computer into a North American electricity outlet! Woohooo!!! I guess I didn’t realize how homesick I was till I got teary when fingering the golden eagle seal on my passport yesterday morning in the baggage checking line. Of course, getting teary isn’t uncommon for me when I’m this tired…

Getting home has been an adventure, and it still is, because I’m not actually there yet. How ironic that I would take off from a snowy Ukraine without any problems, get through Amsterdam just fine, and then be stranded in Memphis, TN due to freezing rain. I was supposed to catch that last short flight to Shreveport at 7:30 pm, but no sooner had I settled in the terminal and started devouring a yogurt parfait than a man came up to me and said “Didn’t you know that the Shreveport flight has been cancelled?”

They had announced it several times over the intercome, but I guess I was too busy trying to fix my hopeless airplane hair and trying to unplug my ears and nose. He directed me to the place to get rebooked, and I thought, “oh, no biggy. It’ll be a late night, but I’ve waited this long; I can hold out.” So I was a little shocked when the lady handed me a new boarding pass and said “Your flight will board at 9:10 in the morning.” Then she gave me a purple hotel discount voucher and told me to call a hotel. What? Me? You’ve got to be kidding. Me, stay overnight by myself and get back to the airport in the morning?

I was a bit stunned, and felt tears of exhaustion surging forward. But I pushed them back and went to the payphone, popped in an outrageous 4 quarters, and made a series of calls that didn’t go through, both to the hotel help number and my parents. Another irony was that I had a cell phone in my bag…but it’s Ukrainian. And unfortunately, there is no Life:) outside of Urkaine. Haha. I love it that the phone company is called Life. So in other words, my cell phone was dead, and may as well have been buried.

So I returned to the counter, talked to someone else, and got directions to go to a kiosk way on the other side of the building. This older guy was really kind to me, and unfortunately that made me want to cry again. But the past few months in Urkaine haven’t been without effect. I snorted up my tears, took a stronger grip of my bags and headed for the baggage claim.

I held my head high and told myself, “No, we’re not going to cry right now. You’re a strong woman. You’re strong because God made you strong. Now go!” Whenever I talk to myself like this I laugh and think of the scene in Bambi where the Bambi has been wounded in a fight and the old patriarch deer thunders, “Get up, Bambi! Get up!” So with renewed confidence I strode down the corridor. I didn’t know that I possessed any determination until I went to Urkaine, and I’m slowly learning to employ the useful stuff.

As I went down the corridor of the Memphis airport, in spite of my troubles, I found myself thinking, “It smells like the south!” South America, as Broderic says. Or rather, the south of America. It’s the fried food and drab brown paint and thoughts of magnolia trees and the Mississippi river. It’s true that Texas is a different kind of south. In my skewed sense of domestic geography, I think of “The South” as just Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Georgia…the states between home and Grandma’s house in Tennessee. Anything above that is north. Of course that’s completely inaccurate since the Mason-Dixon line is actually way up around, I don’t know, Illinois or somewhere. Wow, while my sense of world geography strengthens, I realize just how poorly I’m acquainted with my own homeland. Sweet country tis’ of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I speak-without-knowing-what-I’m-talking-about…

I tried calling home several more times, watching my stash of quarters all but disappear. I was glad I had all those…I can’t remember why I had so many quarters with me. Then I surveyed the hotel options, picked up the phone, and dialed the extension for Econo Lodge. Although I couldn’t understand the accent on the other end too well, I thought the guy said that the shuttle would be coming in about 40 minutes.

So I stood by the door watching with all the other delayed passengers. I finally phoned the Bourciers and got Mrs. Janet to call Mom and Dad since I couldn’t get them. Then I went back and watched again for my “mashrutka.” After the initial disappointment passed, I found myself a little gleeful over spending the night in a hotel. Shower. Sleep. I wouldn’t have to drive my loved ones away with my stench. Watching bus after bus pull by, straining to see mine, it dawned on me that the past few months in Ukraine primed me for this! I was just going to catch a mashrutka and go on my merry way!

Well, mashrutka after mashrutka came and mashrutka after mashrutka went. But not my mashrutka. The crowd of chilled huddling people diminished. Radisson went by, Alamo went by, Holiday Inn went by, Best Western went by…and went by again…all the shuttles came and went multiple times, but not Econo Lodge. After nearly an hour I called again, and the guy assured me that it would only be about 5 minutes. 5 minutes passed, and as many shuttles that weren’t Econo Lodge. Suddenly, about 15 minutes later, there it was! I dashed madly out to greet it, opened the door, and awkwardly stuffed my bags in. I felt a bit odd because I was the only person being picked up. I was just sitting there and there were two guys from the hotel in the front seat speaking Hindi.

Soon we were at the hotel, and I discovered that the whole place was like a mini India, complete with an elephant statue in the lobby. Here I was, just home from Ukraine, surrounded by Hindi speaking Indian guys. In fact, even the two other guests I met (who had cancelled flights like I did) were Indian, and on the way to the airport this morning they all spoke Hindi together like a big happy family, leaving me with doubts about which country I’ve actually arrived in!

Settling into my room was easy. One thing I’ve been learning from flying alone is that it’s not that hard, and there’s no need to stress out. Generally speaking, the people at the airport are there to help you, not out to get you. Everything is going to work out, even if you have to deal with a few delays. Same with the hotel. In fact, I wanted to try to call home again, but I couldn’t make a long distance call from the hotel. Seeing my obvious distress, the guy behind the counter offered his cell phone. I fumbled around with it for quite a while, trying in vain to phone Dad’s cell and then Connor’s. I wasn’t sure of the number to begin with, and my head was swimming after 25 hours pretty much awake.

I was overjoyed when I heard Dad’s voice on the other end saying “Hello?”

“Hi, Dad!”
“Hello, who is this?”
“It’s Cass.”
“Who?”
“It’s Cassie, your daughter who’s been in Urkaine and who is going hoarse because she has a cold,” I rasped. I hadn’t had enough water and I really was going hoarse, but I was a little upset that my own Dad didn’t recognize my voice. I couldn’t hear very well myself, because my ears had been popping pretty badly on the plane.

“Uh, I think you have the wrong number.” I was getting desperate. “No, Dad, it’s me!” I wanted to scream, scared that he was going to hang up. But instead I asked,

“Who is this?”

“This is Ron,” came the voice, “and I think you have the wrong number.” Oh. I apologized and hung up, looking around at the hotel workers, who were wondering what was wrong with this crazed girl. They seemed sympathetic, and thinking I was having trouble using the fancy cell phone, the other guy was about to hand me his. “No, no…it’s not that. I just can’t remember my family’s cell phone numbers,” I said, feeling frustrated and lost. They looked at me like I was a total ditz, but they seemed compassionate. “Take your time, Ma’am,” the first guy encouraged me in his polite Indian accent, “Please sit down.”

So I sat down and called the number I knew that I knew…the Bourciers’ home phone. Mrs. Janet picked up, and when I explained the situation to her, she assured me she would contact my parents and then got the hotel info so that they could call me in my room. I rushed back to my room, and sure enough, Dad called.

After that I felt much better, and sang joyfully all through my shower, then crawled into bed and went to sleep. I figured I would take advantage of every available minute to sleep, since I hadn’t really slept on the plane, but no. I woke up at 4 something and laid in bed trying to talk to myself in Russian since I couldn’t sleep. Finally, Russian vocabulary exhausted, I popped out of bed and started this blog entry (hehe, it’s been half a week now!), gathered my things, and visited the meager continental breakfast.

My flight took off after some more delays on the runway while they de-iced the plane, and I touched down in Shreveport and virtually ran to my waiting family…back to where I started. It was pretty amazing. I love those people. Now, three days later, we’re still catching up, and I’m eating up the car time with various family members. I can’t drive our new car because it’s a standard, so I’m getting carted everywhere, still feeling stunned to see gas prices at 1.58 when they were brushing 4.00 when I left!

Homeward Bound

Oh my oh my oh my oh my!

I feel a little dramatic tonight. 6:45 am and I'm off the ground and headed for home. Never did I imagine Shreveport airport would be such an inviting place. Of course, it's not exactly the cypress trees that hold the appeal, but several certain people I'll be seeing there...

I'm so overcome with how God has blessed me. Never do I feel a deeper longing for heaven than when I realize how much I love people on totally opposite sides of the planet who can never possibly all be in the same place at the same time. It's gonna be an awesome party someday, guys! I prayed for friendships before I came, and God has given them to me. And now I get to go home to visit the ones I love, and then come back again...

Wow wow wow. It's cold out now...but I suppose the weather is no longer new news. It's going to be cold here for a while, so I should stop writing about it. But really, it's cold. Not miserably or impossibly or even severely cold, just colder than what I've experienced for long periods of time before. It's been in the 20's F. Don't laugh at me. I'm actually finding it quite fine. My long johns are becoming a second skin of sorts and I hope I will at some point have motivation to take them off and wash them (just kidding...sort of...)

Of Friday I went to youth group even though once again I was thinking "Why am I here...it's bedtime." It starts at 8:30, which is very trying to me. I don't actually go to bed then, but it's just not a good time for crowds. But then we started playing Dutch blitz, and they were practicing guitar in the background, and I was reminded how extraordinarily FUN that game is. I got paid back for all the years my family has forced poor unsuspecting guests to play by the rules I made up for the game since we didn't own the actual cards and I taught my family the wrong way to play...so we've always played with our own set of rules, the "Walters" rules, oh excuse me, the M. Walters rules...so that no blame gets laid on the K. Walters, who I believe, play correctly...hows that for a run on?

Yes. Well. I had to play by the real rules and it was really crippling. But still fun. It messed with my head the way reading the Russian alphabet does. It seems that I'm always at a disadvantage here. But I guess that's what happens when you leave home and land yourself in the unfamiliar. I was bound to look dumb, and I guess I sort of am...in a good way :) Yes, I'm blabbering.

So, we left after midnight and I was so sleepy that I was getting irritable and trying not to show it...so when six of us girls started down the hill, the Ukrainian girls were doing the penguin waddle thing and having fun sliding around, and I was...well, once again at a disatvantage, being soft, green, and totally uncoordinated. I went smack on the ice twice, jumped up both times and kept waddling like a disconcerted barnyard fowl, and eventually was able to join in the laughter. I'm learning from friends here that things don't have to be that bad...it's often just the attitude you have. Which can be changed.

On Saturday I think I broke a record of some kind and slept in till 10:15, which made me very happy. I didn't have to go anywhere. I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time, thinking about the amazing ways God has blessed me. I started to cry out of sheer gratitude. And I thought of David's words in Chron. 17, "Oh Lord, who am I, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far?" I want so much to glorify Him and live passionately with Him.

So spent the day laying there recovering from the week and then got up and did some organizing/packing. It was totally quiet in the house besides the Urkainian worship music I put on, and getting stuff in order was so thereputic. A spot of order in the chaos. Ahh.

Then I got a text message from Cheryl asking if I wanted to come to supper. And I did! By then a brisk walk was welcome, so I left everything in a state of beautifully-laid-out-and-half-packedness and went. Cheryl had decorated the house for Christmas and made a roast and standard accessories, (corn, carrots, potatoes...) and Jono was there too, so we ate and talked and talked and ate...it was like a quiet Christmas celebration of sorts. Ahh.

So last night by the time I got home and packed up at Masha's enough to find my bed again :) it was past midnight. I woke up at 4:30 with too many thoughts going around in my head to allow anything but a restless doze. I didn't stay in that doze for long, either, possibly due to the nearly Pharoahesque dream I had in which I watched cows being moved from one side of the Dneiper river to the other with a crane. Does this mean something? One of them slid down the bank and its udder fell off. Please let me know if you have any interpretations :) Does Deb need to stop buying fresh milk on this side of the river???

And here is tonight, and I'm blogging away when I should be finishing up packing and catching some winks. I'll be home soon! Bye.

Exhaustion and Resulting Laughter

So, Mattie said I needed to blog before I come home...not that I wouldn't have before now, but I've been trekking up and down treacherous ice coated hills for the better part of this past week, and the think they don't tell you about all that Christmas calendar weather is that it's downright exhausting...especially when you've spent your entire previous life in East Texas and you have muscles the size of split peas. Whew. Life takes work.

However, I prayed that God would give me ways to get stronger, and He's answering:) Of course, after the holidays I'll be back to wimpiness sqare one. I keep telling Masha I'm going to get stronger, and she assures me that I will.

Masha's been great. We've been having a lot of laughs, partially because we're so tired. She looked out the kitchen window at me shuffling my slippery way to the outhouse like a penguin the other night and just burst out laughing, which sent me into spasms too. I love her laughter, because it reminds me to laugh too, even if I'm sometimes not sure what's so funny till she tells me :) She's made me feel really at home.

I'm really liking my new home. The hardest part is the icy hike back and forth, although Bruce or Deb often take me home if they're going that way or when the weather is bad. We're warm and cozy and it's just nice to be growing roots of friendship.

Last night Sveta was the only other one who came to prayer meeting at the house, and we just kept laughing so hard over almost nothing.

This week I was craving beans after four months with out that southern staple, so I bought some at the market and made them like Mom does. I was planning to cook them with pork bones for flavor, and Masha said I could get the bones at the meat stall in the market. I planned to do that, but when I got there, I just bought the first things I saw: sausages. So later that night while I was brushing my teeth, I just had the sudden thought that I "chickened out" at the meat market...and my own pathetic humor overcame me to the point that I was choking with laughter in the bathroom and Masha came in and asked I was ok. Of course I had a hard time assuring her that it wasn't actually that funny...

A few nights ago, I accidentally got locked out of the house, and it was snowing when I came home, and...it's a very interesting story actually, which I haven't had time to tell properly, but would like to type up and relate to you...Masha wants to take pictures of me acting it out to give the full effect. It involved a gigantic lock, a treacherous climb, a very tiny window, and lots of adrenaline and chocolate.

But for now, I'm going to check my flight times on the internet, because I'm leaving early Monday morning for East Texas to spend a month with my family. I'm dreaming of a not-white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know...

The Light Switch Sprays Air Freshener, and Other New Adjustments

"I've got the love of Jesus in my heart
And I'm so happy, so very happy
I've got the love of Jesus in my heart!

I've got the joy joy joy joy
down in my heart
where?
down in my heart
where?
down in my heart
I've got the joy joy joy joy
down in my heart to stay!"

Yeah! I do! I guess I haven't mentioned it on my blog yet, but I've just moved in with Masha, a Ukrainian girl a year older than me who lives here in Rzhishchiv. She has an extra room, which I'm now occupying, and we're sharing utility costs (the owners let her stay there for free.)

So I'm coming to the Crowes still and doing school with the boys, babysitting, etc, but I'm now living across town.

This was a big step for me because I've never been "on my own" before. Masha speaks english, so that's not a problem...in fact, it's a great opportunity to learn Ukrainian. I was a little nervous about the fact that there is no running water and the toilet is outside, and things are so different for me, but I knew God was saying, go for it, and I'm so glad!

I'm rejoicing because I have so much peace and life! God really does give me steps to obey Him in, and when I do, there's a huge blessing.

So, right now I'm getting used to showering with a bucket, hauling water from the pump down the road, cooking on a gas stove, and remembering to take my flashlight when I go to the outhouse. I'm just marvelling that things I would have dreaded and shrunk back from are more like little adventures to me now. God has really changed my heart over the past few years.

Last night Masha was in Kiev and got back around 6 or 7, so I went on a little shopping excursion to the "chicken store" and bought a kilo of chicken thighs, then went to another store and bought sauce, a pepper, and some toilet paper. It was only just after 4:00, but it was already mostly dark, but lots of people were out shopping. It was so strange and new thinking about cooking for two people!

I went home, found the key to the house, fed Nasok, Masha's German Shepherdish looking pup (a ball of fur and mischief if I ever saw one!) and brought in a few buckets of water. I'm going to be building a few muscles! Then I fussed with the gas stove for a while, accumulating a little pile of burnt out matches in the process. I've never cooked anything over gas except fried eggs.

I boiled some grechka, which is buckwheat I think...sort of like bulgur. It's very hardy, and I love it. After that I cooked the chicken with peppers and onions, and Masha came home, sporting her new furry winter boots :) I told her they look like Nasok (her dog!)...but I like them! The kitchen is so small and cozy, with the table crammed against the wall with only spaces for two, and really only enough room for one person to cook. It's like playing house, only for real. The first night I was there, Masha cooked yummy meal for us. I don't know how we'll split up the cooking, but anyway...

We ate supper and had tea, and she played with Nasok. (He only comes in some of the time.) I have so much peace just being with one person at a time. Not that we're talking all the time or always to together, but I don't feel torn between several people and things. My compulsive attempts at people pleasing can rest, and I think it's helping me to just relax more with the Crowes (which is what they want me to be able to do in the first place.) I'm so thankful for the schedule they've worked out.

So, there will be a lot of activity, but it's stimulating activity. I feel tired, but it's the kind of tired you feel from lively action, not from dull depression. There are lots of things to learn.

The first night, I walked into the bathroom and was looking for the light switch inside the room, when it was actually outside. I did find a switch of some sort however, so I just pushed it, and "Whssssshhhh!!!" clouds of air freshener sprayed out, fumigating everything. We laughed and laughed, and it made me remember the time I turned on a garbage disposal in someone's sink thinking it was the light switch. That'll make you jump! Masha asked "Is it always like this with you?" I'm afraid so.

So, there's lots more to write, but I'll make it later.

The Gutting of Birdzilla (Happy Thanksgiving!)

(Nov. 27)

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

It's about 9:30 here, and we've just finished our second Thanksgiving celebration of the week, this time with a gathering of missionaries at the Crowes' house. The day had a much different flavor than my past Thanksgivings, and it was hard to realize that it was indeed Thanksgiving and that people were getting up on the other side of the world to cook their turkeys and bake their pumpkin pies.

We actually had a turkey, (which are hard to come by, seemingly) and it was quite a "beast," as Bruce called it. I was very glad for it, just for the idea of having a turkey, but I think it was a rather ancient fowl. This afternoon, Bruce was in the kitchen making his special stuffing, Deb was assisting Bruce like the dedicated wife she is as well as preparing her own dishes, and I was...I can't remember. Doing my usual puttering. Following people around washing their dishes.

So it came out that the turkey needed gutting. It was on the kitchen counter wrapped up in a plastic bag. After some discussion in which Bruce flatly refused to do it, I volunteered/was elected to remove the innards. I thought "Why not? There's a first time for everything." Although I've been forced against my will to watch Mom clean out chickens in the past, I don't think I've ever actually done it myself. She says I must gut a chicken before I will be allowed to marry. Well, I went the whole way this time and did a turkey. So now I can get hitched at any time, hehe.

I must say that I almost renigged when I peeled back the plastic bag. Deb and I both were pretty grossed out at the sight of the dry, leathery skin, the portruding purple neck with its wrinkles of pimply blackish skin, and the singed places where the feathers had been. It didn't appear to be a healthy animal. Then or now. But it didn't smell at all, and we didn't have to pluck it! How bad could it really be? And then I always think, someday I could be off in the wilds somewhere butchering emus with my bare hands, and then I'll be glad I once gutted a turkey...

No, I cheated, actually. Deb gave me a pair of plastic gloves which I threw away afterwards, and I plunged into the dark cavern of turkeyness and pulled out all kinds of interesting goodies. I have decided I will never be a doctor. Seeing the glove all caked with blood and finally pulling out what looked like the trachea (do turkeys have tracheas?) was almost too much to me. I actually found it easier to mess with it without the gloves on, because there's less left to the imagination. Although there's still the same amount of squish and ish, you know what you're putting your hand on, and not caught up imagining what it feels like it is.

After its innard removing operation and a good rinse, Birdzilla was a passable candidate for stuffing, but Deb and I kept eyeing the thing and thinking this was like no bird we had ever seen. Probably not genetically engineered for an American Thanksgiving dinner. Possibly it was a much more "real" turkey than we had ever eaten before, but also a much older turkey than we had ever eaten before as well.

But we stuffed him, the three of us standing round, and Deb tied him up with crosstitch floss, and popped him in the oven.

The evening was a pleasant one, and it was nice to see missionaries from the neighboring town whom I don't see that much.

The bird turned out strange to say the least. We really aren't sure if it was a turkey or not. There was dark meat where light meat is supposed to be, and the whole carcass had a grisly appearance to me. Maybe it was due to my previous involvment, but I could hardly get my little piece down, between all the chewing required and the thoughts to be dealt with while chewing. There was also a unique taste.

Thank the Lord that turkey is NOT the point of Thanksgiving! There's always pumpkin pie... No, really, God is so good to us and I love Him so much. I want to thank Him more and more, for the little things and the big ones, because He is intimately aquainted with every detail of life. And, I really am thankful for the turkey...it didn't have to taste good. It's just special to have a turkey on Thanksgiving, even if only for the idea of it :)

A Long Way From Home...but Happy!

Yesterday morning I woke up to a white world and got amazed all over again. Apparently the Crowe kids were up at 6:30 (at least Bronwyn was) playing in the new snow. I was a bit later getting out there :) Natural klutziness coupled + the most awkward articles of clothing I've ever encountered + distracted delight = quite a while getting ready.


When I had finally bundled myself up I crunched and bunched down the road. It was still snowing and blowing, and the kids were sledding down the hill on the coated road with the Gollan kids. After talking with Daniel and Priscilla a little and watching the fun I had a couple goes on the sled. (I'll have to practice steering!) and later instigated a snowball fight with some of the older kids. They were having a blast out there. Clark and Ellie looked like two little bears in there snow suits.


Afterwards I walked through the woods next to the house, marvelling at the glowing sheen of white and the contrast with the deep green pines. It stopped snowing and the blue sky even appeared. Even in snow coated winter weather I caught that color scheme again...blue and gold show up everywhere!


Last night we celebrated Thanksgiving at church. It was such a precious time. I thought I would really be missing Thanksgiving at home, but I really found myself getting excited about this celebration, and yesterday I was so thankful for the sense of family, even though there were a lot of new faces at the table.

I went down early to help Cheryl set up, so we moved things around in the ministry room at the Gollans', ironed table clothes, and set the table. Around 40 people came, and we had a potluck style meal. The room was so cozy with candles and lamplight and fall decorations.

After the meal we had a worship time and communion, and talked about God's physical, emotional, and spiritual blessings in our lives. During the singing I was overwhelmed with the sweet sound of Urkainian songs sung by Ukrainian voices. I'm learning some of the songs, but it's still a lot of brain work to join in the singing, so sometimes I just close my eyes and listen.

For me, it's taken leaving my country to really appreciate its history and traditons. I appreciate Thanksgiving more this year because I sort of a pilgrim :) I never thought about the fact only Americans celebrate Thanksgiving on the last Thursday of November. Our time last night probably had more American flavor than usual because there were more Amercans this year, but it was still a time focused more on simply giving thanks to God than on an American holiday. I really liked that. I also realized how much I love my heritage, too.

When Jon, who was leading worship, was sharing a bit between songs about the pilgrims and how American Thanksgiving came about, (he is from New Zealand) it struck me in a tender place because I thought "That's my history!" and I knew it struck a chord for me that it naturally wouldn 't for most people in the room. When you only stay in one country, you don't realize that even other english speaking countries have a whole different background and set of holidays and special traditions than you. I'm not intentionally prideful about mine, but I niavely go around thinking everyone does things like I do (and eats pumpkin pie, by George!) It's really humbling but really sweet to come to a place where the only common denominator at times is Jesus and the place we have in His family.

Even with the joy of the meal together, I could sense a heaviness in the room because there are people who aren't following the Lord or who are doubting Him. There is a lot of pain and suffering in this world, much deeper than anything I've ever been through. But I know Jesus came to suffer on our behalf, and I'm praying that they can believe and truly know Him.

We took communion, and those who know the Lord came one at a time and took the bread and juice, and just made a simple confession that we love Jesus and that He's our Savior.

So that was Thanksgiving! I'm a long way from home, but I'm really enjoying it! This Thursday I guess there will be another celebration at the Crowes' house...

White Thanksgiving

All I can say is wow, wow, WOW! No, actually I have a lot more to say than that…

Although I’ve wished many times for a white Christmas, I can’t say I’ve ever dreamed of a white Thanksgiving! But it looks like that’s what we’re having! I guess it’s not actually Thanksgiving day yet, but here we’re celebrating as a church today with a meal in the evening together, so it seems like Thanksgiving day. Yesterday I went to Cheryl’s because we are decorating and making desserts and we wanted to prepare a little. It was fairly warm out, and if it hadn’t been raining I might have just layered up and not taken my puffy coat. Little rivulets of rainwater were traveling down the road, and I was marveling at the beauty of raindrops hanging on the branches like delicate Christmas ornaments.

So when I go there, Cheryl started looked up verses in Ukrainian for us to write on decorative cards for the tables and I slopped and spattered my way around the kitchen making pumpkin pie. Apparently they don’t make or eat pumpkin pie in Ukraine, although they do plenty of other creative things with that fascinating and versatile vegetable. But pumpkin pie a necessary symbol of Thanksgiving, and I was glad to get to make it.

But enough about pie…

After finishing the pie, verse cards, supper, and some good fellowship, we left around 8, I to go home and Cheryl to go to worship practice. When we stepped out the door, there was WHITE STUFF FALLING!!! I was in shock, I guess. I’m surprised that I was so surprised, but I was surprisingly very surprised and giddy. You would have thought I’d been in the tropics all my life! “It’s snowing” I kept saying, as if it wasn’t obvious. “Cheryl, it’s on the ground!” Not were the furry little flakes falling, they had already accumulated probably an inch on the ground. The umbrella I had borrowed and left on the porch to drip had turned over and was rapidly filling with snow.

We set out, all my senses alive to the new world. Even a little bit of snow transforms the landscape. Warm lights rested in houses coated in white. Instead of just muddy pavement, there was now slick and slush…and the mud. The ground dazzled and sparkled in the flashlight glow, and the cold soft flakes brushed my nose, teased the bit of fur on my hood, and nestled in my brown scarf. All was hushed and still like a wintery postcard picture. Snow caps on fence posts reminded me of Charles Wysocki paintings. I was in awe. When Cheryl and I parted ways at my street, I was so full I half cried, half laughed. My heart is so full of Thanksgiving to the Lord for what He’s done. I feel so far short of the life I desire to live in Him, but He has given me so, so much. He makes us as clean and new as new fallen snow. He changes our eyes to have the sight of faith, the sight of a new world.

When I came into the house , the family was gathered in the living room playing Pictionary. I was still giddy, and in celebration I had another cup of coffee and sat on the couch watching our budding artists draw their pictures. And tried to guess…

This morning we woke to more snow (I’m guessing 2-3 inches) on the ground a outlining the forest trees. Now it’s stopped, but the view from my window is Rzhishchiv, Thanksgiving, coated in white :) That gets a little confusing where the Christmas carol urge comes in!

Steps of Faith

Currently reading:

For the Sake of my Brothers, by Brother Andrew
and
Stepping out on Faith, by Helen Constance
(These are awesome books that God is really using in my life...I recommend both of them!)

I'm so full of God's joy! He has been so good to me. This week I've had a new sense that He's lifted me up out of a pit and given me a firm place to stand. I feel like an oppressive cloud has been lifted off of my life, and I can breath and move about with so much more freedom, clarity, and lightness of heart.

Praise God, my jaw is feeling so much better! The problem is not resolved, and my neck still bothers me at times, but I'm so much more relaxed, and I have energy! I feel motivated to live and get out of bed in the morning! It's really wonderful.

So, I don't know how it's all come about, but I think this new life I have is due in large part to some small steps of obedience God's been leading me in. For so long I've just been in a tight, scared bubble, and He's been merciful to me, but lately I've been challenged to step out in faith a little, and it's so exciting!

I so often struggle with knowing whether I'm really hearing God's voice or not that I stay paralyzed in fear and uncertainty. I certainly wouldn't want to make any big steps unless I'm positive that's what God said, because I don't want to risk my discomfort! So I've lived in confusion over what's best for my health, for the way I spend time, what I do with others, etc.

For example, I wanted to have more time to pray, because I just want so much to get close to God's heart. There's so much I want to understand and hear Him about. But I also feel like I should be responsible with the amount of rest I get, because I'm not superwoman, and other people suffer from my emotions when I get too tired.

One morning I just decided to get up earlier than usual and have some extra prayer time. There was a fear that I wouldn't be rested enough, and also a sense of guilt if I didn't get up...and I didn't want to get up and do it just because I felt guilty! In the end I got up, even though I wasn't sure if my motives were right or not. During that time I had so much peace and delight in what God shared with me...and I thought, "to think that I almost missed this because I was afraid of my motives!"

For the next several days, even though I didn't plan to, I ended up getting up early again to have this prayer time, and although it wasn't chock full of special feelings, I could really sense God's blessing and clear direction in it. I've continued doing it, and tried to get in a habit of saying "yes" to other small steps of faith. Often I want to dither about whether it's God's will or not, or whether it will be good for me or not, but God keeps whispering, "I will take care of you."
And I've had so much more energy and joy than before!

This morning I wanted to get up early to do different things, and I thought this time I would just skip the prayer time...and no condemnation involved! But I woke up needing to go to the bathroom even earlier than the early time I'd set my alarm for. I thought, "No no...I'm going back to bed. It's Friday, and I'm planning to go to the young people's get together (another little step of faith for me!). It will be late and I won't make it through the day without more rest." So I got back in bed, pulled the warm duvet over my shoulders, and laid there. But then God whispered, "Are you trusting in My strength, or your strength?"

With it laid out so plainly, I could see that it wasn't a matter of me getting up out of guilt, but out of an attitude of trust that my God is able to carry me through this day. So I took that step of faith out of bed, and immediately He filled me with joy for this day in the early morning light.

It's funny how you don't see the blessing that is about to open up to you if you make that step of faith. I know that God loves and blesses His children anyway, but there are certain blessings that we simply cannot find until we open up the door and step outside. He gives a sacred part of Himself to the ones who step out to recieve it.

So, this is new and exciting to me, and there are much bigger challenges to come. But as I think of the future, I'm filled with hope, because I know that the desires of my heart require a lot of mountains to be moved in my life. Now I really believe that God can strengthen my heart in obedience so much that I'll be able to say "yes" to anything He says. One step at a time :)

On another note, I was at the Bible study Cheryl has at her house every other Friday, and she showed a video of pictures and clips from Kyrgystan, where she just visited. And she gave us embroidered Kyrgyz potholders :) Every time she talks about Kyrgystan I have this odd excitement, and putting pictures with my thoughts added to that. What a place. I have so much curiosity about it!

The sermon we listened to (in a great series by Tim Keller) challenged me to ask God about the poor and lost. As I'm learning to step out in faith, I want Him to change the places in my heart that are hard or show partiality. I'm willing to go to some people, but not others. There are some ways I just don't want to serve because they are too dirty, too strenuous, and they require too much. Who am I, Lord? I can't go to prostitutes! I can't take care of orphans! I'm terrified of the sheer boredom of nursing homes. Please don't ask me to teach Sunday school! If I give to beggars, they'll just want more. There are a thousand excuses I could keep making for the rest of my life about why I shoudn't get too involved with the poor. But Jesus' example and mandate to love even the "least of these..." -- especially the least of these-- remains. Hmm.

"...Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and inherit the kingdom He promised to those who love Him?" James 2:5

So...just my thoughts of late.

Noah is playing on the floor nearby with a talking Pooh Bear toy. School with the two boys seems to be going well. We had a light snow flurry a few days ago and thought it would turn into something more...apparently it's been pretty warm here so far. We're preparing for two Thanksgiving celebrations, one on Sunday with "church", and one at the Crowes' on Thursday. I'm so excited to be spending my first Thanksgiving in Ukraine! I thought I'd really miss home Thanksgiving, but I'm excited about this. I have a lot to thank God for.

I'm sorry if I haven't been keeping very good contact with you all. Internet's been down most of the time. But I'll see lots of people when I come home for Christmas :)

The Country Mouse Goes to Kiev

This morning I had my first solo bus ride in Ukraine (or ever). It was a big deal for a girl who has never even ridden public transportation in her home town before (not that there actually is any :) There really wasn't anything to it, because Nadya's mom did all the hard part for me, down to asking the bus driver to please be sure he stopped at the market in Rzhishchiv instead of the nearby technicum.

Nadya is the daughter of Bruce's friend Andrei who helped the Crowes get connected here, and I've met her before when she was in the states visiting (some you probably met their family when they visited Crossroads back in July.) Anyway, Nadya is close to my age, and she's been trying to get me to come visit her these past three months or so...so I finally got to go!

The Murzins got circus tickets for the Crowes and me, so we went on Saturday, and then I stayed overnight wiht Nadya. And then another night. And I came back by bus this morning in the greyish puddly weather. It was delicious. My sense of independence was probably an illusion, since Mrs. Murzin said they used to send Nadya to her granparents' by bus when she was just six years old...but oh well :) It was a big step to me!

But the bus ride was only the cherry on top. I so enjoyed hanging out with Nadya. She wanted to show me her favorite places in Kiev, so she took me down by the Dneiper river where there's an huge arched bridge all lit up, and we walked along the cobblestone riverside and sidewalks, enjoying the lights on the water and chattering like squirrels. It was damp and just slightly rainy, but not unbearably cold. Good conversation is so refreshing! I can't convey just how much a wholesome conversation restores me. Ahh.

Nadya is Ukrainian, but she speaks very good English, and she's read classics in English that I haven't ventured to read, so it was kind of fuuny to have my English challenged by someone who's not only a year younger than me, but has a different mother tongue!

She told me interesting history about Kiev, explained some school customs, and helped me some with Russian. We quickly figured out that neither of us have a head for directions, especially when we're engrossed in conversation, and we went into one metro station and out and in and out and all about...but it was great fun. Nadya said there's a Russian proverb that says that some people "can get lost between three pine trees." So I'm keeping that one tucked away...it definitely applies to me! I was just impressed that she could get around Kiev at all. It's a big city-- I think about 3.5 million people, population-wise.

All the bus catching and on-the-metro-off-the-metro-up-these-stairs-down-those-stairs-across this-street-on-that-bus-run-to-catch-the-next-bus had the country mouse pretty baffled and a little overwhelmed. I'm used to Rzhishchiv, with its little three-day-per-week bazaar and main street, complete with a post office. That's pretty much all I need at this point. But I had so much fun seeing Kiev. We were in a really fancy part of town where they had built a beautiful mall, so we went there and had a baked potato and a milkshake, and then looked in a few stores.

I've can't say that shopping does much for me, but for some reason just walking into a Levi's store and seeing and feeling those American clothes really did something to me. Homesickness is such a sneaky beast...it creeps up behind you and suddenly socks you in the gut even in your happiest, most well-adjusted moments.

All the newness of Kiev and some little things like the Levi's store and the sight of Nadya's six year old brother just Ethan's height playing dinosaurs caught me off guard and I actually started crying on the metro, much to my embarressment and Nadya's dismay. She was really gentle though, and felt terrible that I felt that way and I felt terrible that she felt terrible...you know how girls are. And then she took me to her youth group and I cried again...I can't believe myself. There were a lot of girls all eager to help, five hands offering chocolate cookies, a kolbasa sandwich, a cup of tea, anything to console me. "Don't worry! Chocolate will fix EVERYTHING! We are doctors and we will fix you!"they gushed dramatically, in somewhat broken English. I couldn't help laughing through my tears. I was in a ridiculous state, but since I couldn't even explain very well why I was crying (I wasn't sure I knew, myself!) it was best just to laugh and gulp down chocolate cookies until the storm blew over.

I continually find myself thinking, when I get homesick or overwhelmed, that I'm getting my just desserts for moving to a foreign country when I could hardly handle leaving my front doorstep in my own country. Then I remember that God really did bring me here, and I ask, "Doesn't it seem like a waste, God, to give such an opportunity to a girl with the brain of Pooh Bear and the heart of Piglet? Sure, I wanted to come, but you could have picked somebody a lot stronger, smarter, more compassionate, and more energetic than this basket case!" But He seems to be divinely winking at me :)

More than anything, I want to have faith to go anywhere and do anything God asks, but I'm so weak in just about everything that it will be interesting to see what my life actually turns out like. Boy am I glad that the Bible says He uses the weak things of this world...haha, it looks like I'm in!

Despite the little meltdowns, the weekend was a blast, and it went by so quickly. I wanted to assure Nadya that it was in no way her fault that I broke down, because I really enjoyed being with her, and she did a great job taking care of me. I really felt welcomed and comfortable with the Murzins, and my language learning enthusiasm is revived after getting to practice with them. Since they speak English and have lived in the states some, we could understand each other well and they were really good at helping me with Russian.

After youth group, or molodyozhka Sunday night, we went "gylyat"ing with two of Nadya's girl friends from youth group. "Gylyat" is my new favorite Russian word (although correct pronunciation is still a work in progress), because it describes one of my favorite things in the world, and there's no equivalent for it in English. (Another benefit of learning a language- you get new words to describe things you've never been able to exactly describe before.) The word means something between "to walk" and "to play," so it's like walking for pleasure, wandering around outside...that sort of thing. So we did that. We wandered arm in arm to McDonald's and had ice cream and just enjoyed each other's company.

It's very humbling to have people go out of their way to speak a different language just for your sake. I know lots of people want to speak English just because they want practice, but last night it was obvious that it would have been a lot easier for the girls just to speak in Russian to each other and let me fumble along the best I could. After all, I'm the one who chose to come here, so I feel like I should be the one speaking Russian. Over and over they kept saying, "Ok, let's speak English" so that I could be part of the conversation. So we helped each other speak each others' languages, and it was so fun.

So we got up when it was still dark this morning and a little bit drizzly, and Nadya's mom helped me get to the bus station and on the Marshrutka, and I went home so happy and refreshed and thankful.

American gryvny?

Hi there, anyone who still checks my blog! I haven't really quit blogging, I'm just busy lately. Or sometimes the internet is off.

Today we had kolache type things for lunch (hot dogs covered in dough and baked) and the kids were trying to buy pieces from each other. (They thoroughly enjoyed the treat). I heard Broderic say, "How much will you pay me for this piece?"

Bronwyn: "Umm...a gryvny" (Ukrainian money)
Brent: "I'll give you an American gryvny."

Only I think it's supposed to be gryvna when it's singular. Anyway. It's fun to see them picking up words and things from this culture.

God has really been encouraging me during the last few days. This morning as I was listening to music I heard the words, "If He led us out, I know He's gonna lead us in."

That phrase spurs me on to believe for God's plan. I don't know what I'm doing exactly, or what God is doing with me, but I can trust that if He brought me to Ukraine, He's going to finish His work, both in me and in others around me. I have so much more hope!

I'm trying to collect my thoughts enough to write an email update, so I'll leave the blog now, but don't give up checking!

My Favorite Disney Princess

Tonight Bron and I have been having our weekly girl time while Bruce and Deb are in Kiev with the older boys. It seems to work out that way so far with Brent doing hockey...and it's fun. Tonight we made sundaes and did silly quizzes on the internet. Nothing very beneficial, but some good mindless fun ;)

So which Disney princess are you? Apparently I'm a cross between Jasmine and Belle. Aha. Hence my affinity to magic carpet rides and huge libraries.

No, actually Belle is my favorite. I really have this thing with princesses and fairytales. But then, I guess we can all identify with a craving for breathtaking adventure. Something bigger than our days. A curiosity about the ends of the earth...what's deep down inside of people...Someday I'm going to write a book...someday...someday...someday...when I find that talking candlestick and see into a magic mirror...

So what would it be like to ride on a magic carpet, really? Drifting throught the air with no rails or seat belt...swooping throught the sky...mmm, sounds like car(pet) sickess coming right up. (Maybe literally.) I've had dreams that I was on a platform way out in the middle of space, tilting this way and that and sliding toward the edge. It wasn't pleasant.

On the other hand, a fairytale carpet could be a sweet ride, belonging in a fairytale and all. Gliding...that's the word I was looking for. I'd like to glide on a starry night spread out on my back, looking up. And then I'd turn over and watch the hushed silver world fly by, asleep beneath me. Good conversation with a friend would just add the perfect touch.

Well, no carpet rides tonight. The clouds have tucked the stars into bed for a long sleep, and tonight I'll be one of the inhabitants of the hushed world...hushed that is, but for the distant whine of a car alarm and the barking of the occasional (hopefully occasional) dog.

Remedying My Cultural No-No, and Other Things

So...it feels good to sit down and blog again and not want to cry :) I'm still going through this culture shock thing...or whatever you want to call it...but I'm feeling a lot better physically, and that really helps.

We're in the heart of fall, and as the weather gets cooler and there's talk of snow coming soon, I keep thinking about the seasons. I realize that at home I've lived on the same property for nineteen years and I know the seasons like a song or a poem. I can smell the sharp tang of dying leaves and I know the cold scent of woodsmoke and frost on a cold morning. Although most people would say we don't have seasons in East Texas, I've lived there all my life, so I've at least managed to imagine some up. They're there if you know what to look for :)

Here, my internal calendar is sort of...gone...I don't know what to expect. My familiar smells are gone and I'm about to experience a season that's completely new to me: Winter! Cold winter with snow and very low temperatures. I'm not sure how low, but it doesn't really matter since I'd have nothing to compare it to to understand how it feels anyway!

So I was thinking maybe that's part of the reason for the sudden pangs of homesickness and dreams of pumpkin pies. Not that we couldn't have pumpkin pie here, but...it's really not about the pumpkin pie.

Anyway...so I thought that not only are there seasons in the year, but as people have often told me, there are seasons in my life too. And instead of focusing on what I don't have in this season, it would be much better to focus on the good things I do have and thank God for them, and enjoy them. Because eventually I'll move to another season and wistfully remember the friends and opportunities and good things here, and thus will continue this sick, sad cycle of discontentment.

So. I know that's not a novel idea, and I didn't come up with it myself. Several people have encouraged me in it the past week or two.

The Crowes are great. The more I'm with Bruce and Deb, the more I respect them. That's a big thing, because you might expect that it would be the other way around: the more you're with a person, the more you see their flaws and lose respect for them. It's true that I get to see the flaws too, just like they get to see mine. But the more I see them interact with their kids, and see integrity in their actions and the compassion and generosity they show me, and the wisdom they share with me, the more I really appreciate them.

School has still been sporadic, but we're trying to ease into some right now. It's usually something that I don't "feel like" doing at first, but when the moment comes when I'm curled up with Brent or Tucker pointing at a word while they sound it out...it's beautiful!! I love those little brains.

It seems like there's a strong emotional connection between teachers and students. Since I was homeschooled, I haven't had a lot of teachers...but the ones I've had I've been very attached to, for the most part. I've had this sense that they gave me something, shared some part of themselves with me that was precious in varying degrees. Especially in subjects I liked...like english or language. Now, when I work with the kids on reading or math, I often have this sense of growing closer to them while I'm teaching them.

There was one of these moments whan Brent and I were sitting in the huge armchair a few days ago working on reading. Usually Brent is the one I can't relate to very well. He's seven, and a grubby boy...well, no big deal. I love grubby little boys, actually. But he's very hands-on and has a really short attention span, and never looks me in the eye when he's talking to me, which drives me crazy...so of course I love him like I love them all, but I don't know what to do with him sometimes.

But, as we sat there "reading" and I watched his smudgy little finger pointing to the letters and the wheels in his head straining to crank out the meaning, love just welled up in my heart for this kid. He has a big heart, a grammar all his own, a very entertaining sense of humor, this little mind just working away...and most important, this soul that God gave him. I thought again about the quote I posted a week or two ago from Cassie Bernall's friend:

"If you love someone, their life is a gift to you."

Here are a few pictures...I took a walk to the post office on Sunday. Through the woods, around town...the post office wasn't open, of course; I just had some letters to drop off :) I get so much pleasure out of writing letters. Ethan sent me a picture of the two of us and he'd written his name on it, which really impressed me :) So I put it on my window, and now I get to see Ethan every day, with three long hairs sticking straight up off his head.

(Just outside the house, on my way to the post office. Tucker took the picture for me.)

(Tucker and Brent climbing a tree in the yard.)(This is along the new route I found to the post office. It's like Lothlorien back there. I keep expecting to see elves feasting or Robin Hood poised with his bow, ready to shoot. But the only sight so far has been a babushka gathering mushrooms (they really do that here!))(And here's a house in the neighborhood on the way to the post office. I love this color, and the house fascinates me every time I pass it.)

Along the way, after the quiet wooded part, there are small brick houses with little (or sometimes more extensive) garden plots featuring cabbages, beets, onions...the corn has died, and piles of pumpkins sit next to the houses, covered in plastic or something else. There are still lots of flowers like mums and asters (I guess). Goats and chickens roam the yards. I pass people doing their wash or working on their cars, ladies in high heels on the way home from market, often on their cell phones. Older guys ride by on their bikes in hats and sweaters. Babushkas tend hoe their gardens with Ukrainian radio playing. The sky is faintly pink and yellow mingled with overcast gray, and a bluish haze hangs over Rzhishchiv from all the leaf piles burning. Along main street it's busier because of all the college students from the nearby schools hanging out together.

I've been commiting a cultural no-no...walking around Rzhishchiv in my old tennis shoes. They aren't even nice looking tennis shoes. They're comfortable and they're what I brought, so I wear them. But apparently shoes are a really big deal here. People seem to dress up a lot when they go out, even to market. And even if you aren't dressed up, you wear nice shoes.

I don't like shoes very much, and shoe shopping ranks up there with going to the dentist for me...but this morning I finally did it. I bought some warm boots for winter. Size 41. Fur inside. I've never had long boots like this, and they embarrass me. I'll be walking like giraffe. But there's nothing else to do but freeze. One of my feet is slightly bigger than the other, so I had to get a size big enough where I can fit thick socks into them...on both feet.

So, we'll see how they work. Deb says I'll get stylish yet, but I don't know. I told her, "Oh, maybe that's why God sent me to Ukraine!" I've always felt a little behind when it comes to style, but now I figure, you know, no matter what I'm wearing, I'll always be out of style somewhere else in the world, so why bother? Somewhat flawed logic, maybe, but I take some comfort in it...

Baby bawling...must go...

Attempts at a Stiff Upper Lip Fail, to My Unforseen Relief

It's a cloudy cold day...the sky is the color of very old mashed potatoes, but the trees make up for the dullness with glowing leaves. The water is off and the electricity has been on and off because guys are working on the house. I don't know what they're doing exactly, but I think it has something to do with getting gas on...a very good thing! It's been a little chilly the past few days. Not unbearable, just chilly.

This is going to be a very long post, just so you know...

Yesterday I finally broke down and cried at the ladies' Bible study. I kept trying to hold it back but it just wouldn't, and I'm very glad. Life is just too much for me. I didn't realize it, but I was trying to keep a "stiff upper lip" and keep the struggle to myself because I didn't want to bother anyone else, make a scene, or interrupt a prayer meeting...I figured that I always have a problem of some kind, and since my tendency is to want to rely on other people to fix my loneliness or insecurity, I needed to just take it to God instead. But, as I found out yesterday, sometimes God's way of touching us is through other people.

I confessed yesterday that I even though I know and often tell myself that Jesus is sufficient to meet my needs, lately He doesn't seem to be there when I need Him most.

When I'm enjoying life, it's easy to say that He is able to fill the empty hole where my family and friends were before, that He can be my warmth, security, and leadership, that He can supply the sense of safety and schedule that has been ripped out of my life, that He can fill the voids where familiarity has disappeared. But when I'm sick or hurting or down, I need Him to be more than those thoughts. A lot more.

My neck and jaw have been hurting from all the stress, and I've literally grown weary of holding my head up. Every time I stand in faith and say that He is enough for me and I trust Him, I feel like I'm thrusting a heavy sword against an unseen foe, and with every thrust I grow wearier, not just spiritually and emotionally, but physically, too. I find myself saying, "If I could just have one hour completely at rest..." No neck pain, no confusion, no anxiety to fight off...

I told the ladies some of these things. It was the "foreign ladies'" Bible study, so they all knew what I was going through, more or less. I hadn't thought of it as culture shock, but they pointed out that I was still adjusting to being here. Duh.

I guess I thought things should just keep getting better and better and I should be "over it" by now. Haha. I'm learning differently. I have seen progress in the last few months. I'm not painfully shy of the folks at church any more, and I feel a lot more comfortable with them. I'm closer to the Crowes. I know a few more Russian words and I'm not afraid that something will jump out and get me when I'm walking down the road (always a nice feeling.) But that doesn't mean no more culture shock.

Adjusting to living in a foreign country is so much more complicated and huge than I would have dreamed. I have a growing respect for people who go for long term and stick it out. I mean, I have it easy. I don't have to build a house, go through stacks of documents, do the grocery shopping...I don't even have to speak the language that much if I don't want to (but I do want to). Ukraine may be very different, but it is still Western in a lot of ways. I can still eat a lot of the foods I would at home and wear the same clothes (no burkas) We have electricity and hot water and internet (most of the time). I keep thinking, so what's my problem?

My problem is that by outward appearances, it doesn't look that hard to live here, but there are subtle differences that have creeped and creeped in on my until I'm like the frog in the pot...not in culture shock, but in culture boil, you might say...just when I think I'm adjusting quite nicely, some new trauma crops up.

Annaliese, who was at the Bible study, said she had read a statistic that said that the level of stress a person experiences when they move to a foreign country is greater than that of someone losing a spouse or finding out they have cancer. That's really hard for me to believe...my reaction was, "But that's a matter of grief! It almost seems dishonoring to compare those thing. I'm not grieving. I like being here!" I don't know. It just made me realize that maybe I'm going through more than I thought I was. Maybe I can stop telling myself to suck it up and quit being a wimp :)

Priscilla shared that it's ok if I feel depressed. Not that I should wallow in it, but that God lets us go through storms and it's not always going to feel good. We just have to keep clinging to Him. She said, "Just enjoy it."

I've heard her say this on different occasions about unpleasant tasks or circumstances..."Just learn to enjoy it." At first I was really taken aback by that. It doesn't immediately make sense, but the idea fascinated me. Enjoy something you are naturally inclined to hate? Is that possible? But it dawned on me that, if I'm understanding what she meant correctly, it goes right along with what James said in chapter one of his book..."Consider it pure joy, my brethen, when you suffer various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance..." It's weird, but I'm starting to actually see joy as a possibility in the things I don't like. And it's really freeing.

It reminds me of Much Afraid in Hannah Hurnard's book, Hind's Feet on High Places. The Good Shepherd gave her Sorrow and Suffering as her companions, and at first she loathed them and shrank back from them. But after a time, she grew to love them as they helped and led her, and in the end their veils were cast of and they were revealed as Grace and Glory. Yes!

Even as I write this, tears are springing to my eyes, because that's what God does with His beloved saints. Sometimes it's easy to look down on the ones who are suffering or just can't seem to pick themselves up off the floor (I'm sorry that I have done it), when actually they are the ones who are honored, because God has given them these disguised companions out of His love and purpose for them.

Each woman had something to say that was really encouraging, and I just sat there, soaking it in...soaking kleenexes... They were very merciful and compassionate. I'm glad Deb and I both got to be there and hear those things, because since we're both new here and going through the same chaos, I guess we both feel helpless together at times.

It was hard to let myself cry. It felt complicated just breathing. I desperately needed to let it out, but at first it's not easy to be that vulnerable with a group of people you don't know that well. But as they talked to me and prayed, I felt like they were lifting me out of a pit I had been sinking into. They were taking up my sword and fighting off those invisible enemies that have worn me out. It was such a relief to have someone fighting for me, almost literally lifting a burden off my shoulders.

Jesus did not fail me. He was right there. He wasn't there in physical form to be seen and felt, but He touched me through His hands and feet, the church. She's beautiful! Not perfect, but beautiful still. Like one of the ladies said, our longings for fulfillment can't quite be met here on earth because this is not our home. We look forward to knowing Jesus fully in heaven.

So I'm still fighting the battle, but I no longer feel like I'm alone and sinking. This morning wasn't easy, but I'm so relieved to know that it's ok if I feel disoriented and confused. A big part of the stress comes from the thoughts like, "I'm always going to be like this. If I haven't changed by now, I'm not going to. Am I ever going to have more than half my brain capacity again? Will I ever wake up in the morning feeling rested? Will I ever...?" But recognizing that this is a season in my life and that I don't have to "get over it" helps so much. God isn't standing there, aloof, waiting for me to get my act together. He's so merciful, and He still has plans and purposes for me that He will accomplish, no matter what I feel like.

"Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, for once he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life, which the Lord has promised to those who love Him." James 1:12

To Live Again...

Sorry if you were hoping for more entries lately. I haven't blogged because my brain has gone into "survival mode" this past week... hunkering down in a bomb shelter-type hole in the corner of my head. Wait...my head doesn't have corners...or didn't...

After being sick, my neck and jaw were really having problems, and I've just been exhausted. Nobody's been "quite right" with the weird stomach bug that's been going around. I wanted to be a fun, energetic auntie for the kiddos this weekend when the Gollan kids came to stay with us, but I didn't have much to offer. In fact, blast it all if I wasn't almost ogre-like. I told Deb I would really, really like to have energy again to stay up till, say, 10 o'clock. Or later. And then still be able to get up in the morning. She told me to have another cup of coffee.

I'm so thankful for Deb. This weekend I was thinking about my friends and missing them...and then I realized in the kitchen as we were cooking together that I really love being friends with Deb. It's good to have someone to laugh with. She said it was a good thing we like to be together. I guess it wouldn't be much fun around here otherwise :) I'm realizing that it takes living with people day in and day out under pressure to build the kind of relationship where you can take risks...It's so good to have my intitial fears met with the thought that no matter what I do, they are going to still love me for who I am :) Living rawly in front of each other is somewhat scary at first, but it's so rewarding.

One thing that helps me keep life in perspective when I wonder what in the world is wrong with me and why can't I cope a little better is that, well, when people have kids, they usually only have one at a time, thereby allowing for an adjustment period before the next. Not six at once. Or ten at once. So I don't have to be so freaked out.

Note: When under pressure, there is a scrap of comfort in having a freshly sharpened pencil around. A little coffee never hurt, either.

So today, after getting a shower and taking a walk in the crispy fall air, taking in a little of Rzhishchiv, I felt some will to live returning. Ahh. My jaw was much better today. I hadn't realized how much that was contributing to the constant drained feeling.

So...right now the kiddos are off to bed and Deb and I are catching up on internet while Bruce plays the piano...it's so nice to hear music just flowing and flowing and flowing...My soul finds rest in God alone, my hope is in Him...His mercies are new every morning, great is His faithfulness...

Reality Check

It's another night I planned to go to bed early and catch up on sleep, but here I am again, not sleeping...I just can't go to bed right now with so much in my heart and mind.

I just read She Said Yes, the book about the Cassie Bernall, who was killed in the Columbine shootings nine years ago. It's by her mother. Reading something like that really puts life in perspective.

I read the book out of curiosity, mainly. It's always interesting to read a book when the main character shares your name, especially if your name isn't a commom one. You identify with the character even more strongly and can usually put yourself in their shoes more easily, because in some small way, it feels like that person is...you.

I think I always had a stand-offish attitude about Cassie Bernall because of all the hype about her being a martyr and the way people acted like she was a saint. But in this book, her mother is very honest about who her daughter really was- yes, a girl who stood up courageously for God, but also a very human girl with struggles and attitudes, etc. So it really appealed to me.

So, as I set the book down and tried to hunker down under my blankets for the night, there were very strong thoughts pounding inside me. Misty Bernall wrote about how her outlook on life changed when she lost her daughter, as anyone's outlook changes when they lose someone close to them. And I was struck with that too.

Life here is so brief and fragile, and material things are so much more trivial than we can imagine. The past week I have been feeling like my life is so bogged down and entangled by material things and concerns...food, clothing, my body, housework. I know that we do live on the earth, and we have to deal with these things and manage them in a responsible way, but in moments like these I catch glimpses of eternity and I feel grieved that I might be so wrapped up in these things that I would miss what is real and imperishable.

It strikes fear into my heart- a holy fear. A fear that is right, but fear nontheless. A fear that makes my spirit groan, and makes me cry out, "Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?" (Matt. 6:25) I feel like someone trapped in quicksand, crying out for help. I can't help myself. The world's pull is too much for me. My selfishness is too much for me to cope with. Without Jesus, the best I can do is close my eyes and keep sinking. I'm feeling the weight of what Jesus' words when He said that "a man can gain the whole world and lose his soul." I hear His call to follow, and I have been following, but there is a new level I'm stuck at, and I need His help.

My heart was broken when I read about Cassie's pre-salvation years in highschool when she was involved in witchcraft, cutting, rebellion, and was filled with such intense pain. Usually I'm so wrapped up on my Pollyanna world, seeking more comfort, that I can't really fathom someone being in that much pain, let alone reach out to them. My heart is broken because I know that some of the people I know and love are in this kind of intense, desperate pain, drowning. If you are one of those, please forgive me. I am nothing without Jesus. I want to live where you are. I want to enter your suffering like Jesus did for me, but I'm not strong enough to do it on my own.

In the book there was a quote from Martin Luther King that said,

"The minute you conquer the fear of death, at that moment you are free."

For me, it's the fear of dying daily, the fear of being disappointed in that moment my plans are overturned or my wants are thwarted, that I need conquered. So is that where faith comes in...where I don't have the strength to love, but I have to believe that His strength is enough? "Those who trust in Him will never be put to shame..."

In the book, Cassie's mother wrote,

"Cassie struggled like everyone struggle, but she knew what she had to do to let Christ live in her. It's called dying to yourself, and it has to be done daily. It means learning how to break out of the selfish life...it's not a negative thing, but a way of freeing yourself to live more fully...it's not a question of doing great deeds, but of being selfless in the small things..."

As I read Cassie's family and friends' reflections on times they spent together and regrets they had and things they wished they had done differently, I sensed the brevity of life. The people I know and love are so precious, and it hurts me that I often brush them aside because I "don't have time," or because I'm so preoccupied with getting the dishes done just so or with making a certain thing for supper or with my mouth being sore. One of Cassie Bernall's friends wrote:

"When you love a person, their life is a gift to you."

God has given me a lot of gifts. I want to stop and look my gifts in the eyes and truly appreciate who they are. And I want to enter their pain when it's time to do that. I want to enjoy them, imperfect as they may be, remembering that my life is a gift to them, to, imperfect as it is.

Things here on earth are not what they seem. Everything seems so important, so urgent, so necessary. But so much of it isn't. I think we'll be really shocked at how things turn out in the end, how much really falls away, and what really remains. I really want God's eyes to value what is unshakeable.

"Once more I will shake not only the earth, but also the heavens. The words "once more" indicate the removing of what can be shaken- that is, created things- so that what cannot be shaken may remain.

Therefore, since we are recieving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and worship God acceptably with reverance and awe,

for our 'God is a consuming fire'"

Heb. 12:27-29

"Eta My Spoon," and other things

I haven't taken a lot of pictures lately, but here's one from last week of the woods next to the house. I love this spot because it looks so ancient. Like an "elven hall" or something from Lothlorien. The trees are in two straight lines just like Miss Clavell's schoolgirls...I think there must have been a road there at one time. There is even a ring of stumps there that the kids set up to play with, so it looks like the elves have totally been there.

My tummy hurts. I've been sick, and I'm showing improvement, but I just have this insistent urge to moan and groan. I need to go shower, eat something, and wash my germy blankets, but every movement is painful and I don't want to get out of bed. Urgh.

That said, it has been nice not to be able to do much. I've just been catching up on internet for a while. The hours are just passing in a surreal kind of way. After being in bed all day yesterday, I thought I wouldn't be ready to sleep till late last night. But when after I showered and sat in bed to read around eight, I kept nodding off until finally I woke up around midnight with the light still on and my teeth quite unbrushed. And I didn't have any trouble sleeping in a long time this morning. God is gracious to me. He's giving me rest. I wouldn't have asked for it this way, but it's welcome. I don't know how I'll return to normal life. I feel like I'm never going to move again. But I will. I'm sure I will. I kind of miss everyone. They seem to be avoiding me like I had germs or something...

I was just thinking about some of the cute things the kids have been saying. It's really fun to hear them picking up some Russian, even Clark. The boys have these little toy cars they drive around the house, and they've learned that the Russian word for car is "masheena." (More or less) So it shouldn't have been surprising, but it sure was cute when we heard Clark, upset over someone meddling with his toy, yelling, "Don't touch my masheena!"

Then at the supper table one night, he said "Eta my spoon!" "(It's my spoon!)

Living in Ukraine has an effect on the way the kids play, too, not just on how they talk. Around the time the container arrived, we overheard them playing their own madeup game..."Here, Tucker, this is our container. Put your car in it we'll get a stamp for it." Or things to that effect.

How Good He is...

God is so faithful. It's been such an extraordinary day (in a fairly ordinary sense), and although I don't have time to write all about it like I want to, I just have to say that God is so good. His mercy really is completely new every morning. Great is His faithfulness.

It's amazing what He will do when we determine in our hearts to embrace the day He gives us with joy. A simple choice to smile at someone can change everything. I don't mean in a drastic way, but it can change things inside us, where it counts.

I just got back from prayer meeting at Masha's with Cheryl. I borrowed a bike again and met her at the center of town and we rode together. On the way back we stopped at Natasha's from church. Eliosha and Natasha are a young married couple with a baby Noah's age. She invited us into the kitchen for a visit and a drink of kefir. So I got to listen to she and Cheryl talk, mostly in Ukrainian/Russian (mostly not in English). I'm so glad for that, because I could understand a lot of words and it really encouraged me. Since Cheryl is from Canada and Natasha was speaking simply and slowly to accomodate her Ukrainian/Russian, it was a lot easier for me to pick up things. After a week of difficult language obstacles, that was a blessing.

Russian is not an easy language to learn. It seems that half of learning it is trying to just pronounce the words. It's not like Spanish, where the words have more of less the same sounds ours do. We might have a hard time rolling r's sometimes, but at least we don't have to figure out the difference between hard and soft l's and t's and d's and every other letter...there's no more helpless feeling than trying to say a sound and not even knowing when you've said it correctly. It's shooting in the dark. I think there was some progress today, though. So thank the Lord.

I love Him so much. He's faithful to be here when I doubt that I'm really useful to Him, and He carries me through all the emotions that no one else can really deal with for me. He's a Close Friend, a Strong Encourager, a Steady Rock.

Maybe tomorrow I'll have time to tell you about going to the bar...

"You have to stall her somehow..."

Today, just before Svetlana was due to arrive for Russian lessons, I overheard Broderic talking to his mom in the living room:


"Mom, you're going to have to stall her somehow so I can do my homework. Give her chai, sit down and visit with her, something..."


Thats how we all feel to some extent. Russian homework! I shouldn't be blogging at all. Actually, it's not a lot of homework. I think if I knew I could complete the homework and do nothing more, and learn the language that way, it would be fine. It's the fact that I need to practice live speaking that hangs over my head. But then, I asked for it...I love it when I'm actually speaking Russian to a Ukrainian...but right now I don't know how to make (or how to take) those opportunities.

I do have a good chance if I'm willing to take it...I think I am...a week and a half ago, I went into a store downtown to get a card for my phone, and the lady in there started talking eagerly to me in either Ukrainian or Russian, I don't know which. (Did I already blog about this??? oh well) I could understand just a tiny bit of what she said, but she told me that her name was Ira. Ok, so two Ira's...is it a sign??? I should look up the meaning of that name. It makes me think of anger, because I think it means that in Latin...but I hope it means something nicer! Anyhow, she was really happy to talk and I think she was trying to tell me that she wanted to learn English. I'm not quite sure. Anyhow, what I was sure she said at the end was that she wanted us to be friends. And that definitely warmed my heart! So I want to go back and talk to her, and maybe think of an excuse to buy something at her shop. It has a lot of cheap toys and do- dads and perfume.


And there's the other Ira I know of, next door. I haven't seen her since I went to visit (that seems like months ago) but Bronwyn said she met her while I was away last weekend, and Ira said I was welcome to come over. On Sunday I made up my mind to go knock of her door, even though I was feeling really flaky and like I was going to fall to pieces (standard procedure). But as I was walking out the door, Bruce, who was in the schoolroom mixing paint (again :)) said that he'd seen Ira and her mom leave and they weren't back yet. So I quickly retreated and went to bed for a nap. Maybe next Sunday. She's gone all week to university in Kiev, and she says Sunday is the best day for her. Pray for me. I'm scared of her. But it's like Deb tells me, "Perfect love casts out fear."


So now I'm going to conjugate my verbs...it sounds too much like regurgitate, doesn't it?

Recent quote from Deb:

"It's like a scary movie in here!"

(After almost busting the lightbulb while trying to move things in the schoolroom. Boxes, boxes everywhere! But things are getting better.

Bruce has been painting the living room a couple shades of brown. One of them is a nice rich cocoa one that we all love...yesterday when I was sniffly I just laid there on the couch watching him roll it on and thinking about chocolate. And Dad. (paint reminds me of him).

Today Brent, Tucker, and I had a reading lesson. Woohoo! They are so eager and excited we've waited so late to start that they're like little popcorn kernels waiting to burst open. They're so proud of themselves.

Autumn is really lovely here...there isn't much red in the trees, at least for now, but lots of gold, and the leaves are falling. Today the five older kids and I joined the Gollans for a picnic while Bruce was working and Deb was at a Bible study. The kids made a fire in a grassy place around the forest and we roasted hot dogs. It was cool out, but not cold at all. It was a great excuse to get out and enjoy the weather.

Clark and Ellie, (2 and 3), looked so adorable playing together. Priscilla commented as they trotted off into the woods together that they looked like Hansel and Gretel :)

Tickling a baby is one of the greatest joys of all time. Noah's laugh is priceless. Noah himself is priceless. This morning while Deb was at the market getting groceries I was trying to make pancakes, and Noah was getting hungry and fussy. He likes to come up and grab both my legs, shove his head between them, and smear as much snot as possible on my jeans. I like to think of it as a hug :) He did it over and over, trying to climb up like a bear cub...so I gave in and tried to hold him while flipping pancakes...It didn't work too well, but he was pretty satisfied with bits of attention at a time. I love to hear him laugh and watch his eyes crinkle up.

So thats all for now...it's Friday night and I'm off to party (in a Cassie sort of way) do svydanya...

A Lull in the Day

(I wrote this yesterday, but didn't post it since internet was down.)

Right now there’s an unusual lull in the day, since Deb and I aren’t having Russian lessons for a couple of days. Deb needed some time to just get the house organized a bit without being swamped with Russian homework as well, and Svetlana wanted to keep Deb and I together in our lessons. I thought that was a good plan.

So I practiced my Russian from last lesson, plus some random vocabulary (I keep thinking that if I do ten words a day for 300 days out of this year, I’ll have 3000 words…that’s not a bad start for a language) Ten words a day is a lot though. I just figure I’ll do ten words a day whenever I can and not freak out about it too much. I’ll learn. It’s exciting how much just learning one common word can enhance your understanding. It’s such an “alive” feeling to understand even part of what someone just said because you took a few minutes to learn the word being used in conversation.

I have the sniffles. I’ve had a snuffly head and scratchy throat for about a week, but just in the mornings and evenings. Today I feel droopy and tea-drinky. And-lay-on-the-couchy. But I don’t have a fever and I’m not throwing up, and it’s an easy going day, so I’m glad. I’m drinking a foul tasting mixture of green tea and squeezed orange juice…I’m not sure why I’m drinking it…it just seems salutory at the moment. I really don’t like green tea. It seems like I ought to, but I don’t. I’m just drinking it because that’s what I made and that’s what’s warm and does a decent job of washing down peanut butter toast. :)

I’m just praising God, because since coming home from the conference I’ve slipped into a new rest and peace. I feel a lot more at ease with the Crowes and life in general, not so anxious about what I should be doing and when. It’s amazing the difference, and I don’t know how it happened or why exactly.

The Crowes have been great about welcoming me into their home, but it’s taken me a while to really accept it and relax. So I’m gradually getting better at that :) I think going away and coming back “home” helped in some way. I have roots, and that’s a nice feeling. I know Jesus said that, unlike the foxes and birds, He had no place to lay His head, but I’m taking it as an extra blessing to feel at home somewhere. I’m willing to follow Him even if it means wandering, but right now I’m grateful that He takes it in little steps! Wandering to the conference and back was pretty big for now! I came in the door with my suitcase to the smell of lasagna cooking and the sweet voice of Clarky yelling “I love you, Cassie! I like your hair!”

After supper…

Those little lulls don’t last long :) Actually, I stopped to play a game with some of the kids. Jesse (Gollan) came up looking for Rodge, who was in Russian lessons, so we played a card game while he was waiting. He taught me a fun one a little like Dutch Blitz that made me a tad homesick :) Then Rodge and Bron joined us and it was super fun…it’s a fast game, especially with four people, and you have to think quickly.

Then I worked on my room a little while. It’s been a mess because I really haven’t unpacked or reorganized since I got back from the Gollan’s…how many weeks ago? Close to two, I guess. Every day I look at the increasing disarray and piles of clothes and socks and toiletries and think something akin to “it’s hopeless” or “not now” or “maybe today.” Living out of a suitcase is making me incredibly grateful for the smallest bits of luxury furniture. Now I get a night stand with drawers-- beautiful, sacred drawers! I hold them in such reverence that it was hard to decide what to put in them. And then yesterday Bruce and Deb came in from Kiev with a clothes rack for me, which I have yet to put together. Yay! So I dived in and tried to get my belongings straightened up a bit. Sometimes I feel like I have SO MANY unnecessary clothes, but then some days I’m scrounging around trying to find something to wear that remotely matches :)

Svetlana stayed after Russian lessons to help cook supper and eat with us. I adore her. She is so fun to have around. She hardly says a word, but she’s very observant and eager to learn. She keeps insisting she wants to learn to cook American food, because her husband, Altu, prefers it to Ukrainian food. So she watches everything we do in the kitchen, and was asking Deb for recipes today…it’s so fun! I feel a little awkward when she asks me questions, because she’s 11 years older than I am, but we’re both learning. We can learn from Deb’s experience, and from Deb’s experiments as well. It’s still quite different cooking in a foreign country. It seems that we’re able to make a lot of dishes from home, though. Today we had macaroni and cheese (not Kraft!) for lunch and sloppy joes for supper.

When Svetlana is here, I feel more confident because don’t have so much of the “new kid” feeling any more :) I get to be part of the Crowes welcoming her into the family, sort of. Once again, I love it that we can share Jesus simply by welcoming people into our home. I see Bruce and Deb and the Gollans being a light to nonbelievers as well as discipling believers (like Svetlana and me) along the way as they share their lives with us and we get to see them interact with their kids, with each other, and with others outside the home.

On Tuesday night I went to the ladies’ Bible study Priscilla was hosting. I had been uncertain about going because they said the teaching was on marriage, and I knew I was going to be the youngest there…but, armed with my fresh burst of confidence I called Priscilla about it and she said anyone who was interested could come. So I went, and loved it! There were more single girls there than married anyway, and it really helped me feel a part of things to join them. I guess that subject is so close to every young lady’s heart no matter what stage of life they are in, that there was a special warmth there.

The teaching was basic, solid stuff that I lapped up eagerly…it all seemed to be so applicable, not just for the future someday, but for right now even in my relationships with the Crowes and most of all with the Lord.