Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Man Cannot Live by Bread Alone










Matthew 4:4 Jesus answered, "It is written: 'Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.'"

I promised my readers a story about the Armenian Business men in my post a couple of days ago.

We were doing door to door evangelism in a village near our city. Michael had gone to get the car, so Caleb and I walked up to the next house off the main road. However, it wasn't a house but some sort of business. The metal door was unlocked, so I thought, why not? I slowly pushed open the metal door, and half stepped inside.

To my right, was a large open space, but male voices were coming from my left. I stepped in a little more to look in the direction of the voices. There was a small room off to the left side, and the door was ajar.

At a glance, I could tell there were several men sitting around a table, which sort of surprised me, and my heart jumped a little (Caleb was still out at the gate, so Dad would know where we were) When I looked more closely and they also saw me. I didn't feel a dread or fear, so I said a quick prayer and walked on into the doorway of their small room. I spoke to them, and made eye contact with each of them, and they all spoke back. I was then inside the room. I quickly made a few observations. Well, we were trained in security and contingency. These things come back in situations like this.

They were all men. They were not Russian. The table had some money laying around an one larger stack. There was one man at the head of the table, who had a ledger or some sort of accounting book in front of him, and he had the biggest stack of money, so I spoke directly to him while glancing at the others. I told him that my husband (my big tall, strong protective husband) hahaha-nah, I didn't say that)and son and I were going to every house in the village to give out Bibles, and I saw your business and wanted to give you one too. He quickly said, "I'm Armenian, do you know of Armenia?" I said of course I did, and told him that I knew Armenia was very proud to be a Christian country, and that we had several Armenian friends when we lived in Moscow. Then he said, "Well, I don't read Russian" (with a sheepish grin). I glanced down at his notebook in front of him and said, "Well, you sure speak and write it well." He held out his hand and too the Bible I was handing him. I asked him if he had children and he said he did, so I gave him Children's Bible. Then he waved his hand around the table and said to give them one too. I told them that God had a plan for them, and it is written in His Word, and told them to read for themselves. He said he would love an Armenian Bible and to come back next week and bring him one. I told him that I knew we had some other languages, but that I would tell my husband, and if we had one at our church that he would be happy to bring him one and come and talk to him more about Christianity.

There was one guy standing in the doorway, and after I gave him a Bible, he spoke to me. He said come in here and give her one, walked past me into the open room. At the end of the room, was a Russian lady. By this time, I could smell the fresh bread, and realized it was a bread bakery. He led me over to the lady and she was very cold and distant. (I still think their business was something other than a bread business, but Michael assures me that my imagination has run wild and that Bread is a legitimate business)

I introduced myself and asked her how she stayed so thin, working in a bread factory, the smells were so tempting. She smiled and I talked with her a bit, gave her a Bible and children's Bible.

As I was leaving, the guy asked me to wait, ran over to the bread cart, and got me a loaf of bread, and thanked me for the gifts.

John 6:35 Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst."


We are praying that we will be able to find an Armenian Bible to take back and for those dear men to read the Bibles and have a hunger for God's Word, and see Jesus as the "bread of life" and believe in Him.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

I Don't Believe in God





A picture from the cemetery overlooking the village where we shared the Gospel Saturday. (notice the graves: the ones with red stars are those who died, and wished to be remembered as loyal communists (unbelievers in God) the ones with Orthodox crosses, wished to be known as Orthodox (believers in God).


During our door to door witnessing in a village near our city Saturday, we met a man who said he was communist.

When he came to the gate, he was smiling. We introduced ourselves and told him we came to his village to make sure he had a Bible and to tell him that God loved him.

He was still smiling, and said, "Oh I am a communist." I said, "Really, great, well, God loves you, and we would like to give you a Bible?"

He looked at me strangely and said, "No, I am a communist, (I guess that had worked for the Jehovah's witnesses who had come before giving out their literature) He continued, "I don't need a Bible."

I said with surprise, "Well, everyone needs a Bible, you just don't know you need it yet." I said, "Does you being a communist also mean that you don't believe there is a God?"

He looked dumbfounded again, and said, "No. I don't believe in God"

I know it is hard to convey in written form, but it was a very pleasant, friendly conversation, with all of us grinning.

Michael jumped in and said, "You know whether you are a communist, or Athiest, or whatever, we are all going to die, and the Bible teaches then there will be a judgement, and you will face God, whether you believe in Him or not."

He said, "But I don't believe in God."

Then I said, "Oh, now I understand, you don't believe in God, ooooh, that is very dangerous for you."

He looked at me, then at Michael and then said,"Well, give me a Bible then." He smiled and thanked us and we walked away.

I love people, I love that man, and I think God will be able to persuade him however way He chooses. "Lord, bless this man with truth as he reads Your Word."



Saturday, October 27, 2012

I was born for this...




My heart is so full of so many emotions right now: sadness, awe, glory, pain, and mostly gratefulness and awe. Have you ever done something in your life, and felt like you were solely created for THIS? I have. I felt that way the 4 times I was given the privilege of giving birth to our four miracles. I have also felt this way every time I have been able to share Jesus' love with someone, and see them given a second birth, being born again.

I have only given birth 4 times, but I do not know how many times I have shared the Gospel, going door to door, because I don't keep count, but I truly do enjoy it when I get the opportunity.

I had one of those such days today. We began praying for a village on and off about 5 years ago. We have driven through this village countless times back and forth, in every season, seeing trees covered in gold, brown, red and orange leaves, limbs bearing the weight of beautiful white snow, as well as trees covered in many shades of green. We have picnicked there in fall, winter, spring and summer, near the river. We have prayed as we drove through for God to pour out His Spirit there.

The village is about an hour outside our city. It looks, from the road, to be a small village, and I guess by Russian standards it is, with less than 1,000 people. We began planning an evangelism trip last week with some of our church members. We have been on countless trips in our region, and many villages, but none this close to us. Don't ask me why, but we were recently convicted about it, and decided it best to obey. It's always best to obey :). The church just offered EE training, and there were about 5 students, and we wanted to give them an opportunity to go out and share all they have learned.

Last night, I went to the church to stamp the New Testaments with our church name, address, phone number, service times etc... As I was stamping and praying, I said, Lord, bless Your Word. I said it a few times before I realized what I was saying. I then confessed...Lord, You already blessed Your Word, use me tomorrow, and bless those who will receive Your Word, with open hearts.

We know God's Word does not return void, without accomplishing all He has purposed. The Bible says it, I believe it, and that settles it. Because of this, we realize that sometimes people wait days, months, even years before they pick up a copy of His Word, but we pray believing that some day, God will draw them to His Word. We decided this time to put a stamp, so at any time, when they read, if they have questions, or maybe have prayer needs, that they have a phone number to call and ask, and know that there is a church, God's house of prayer, not far away for them to go to. While we were stamping, several people came in and said that a storm was coming tomorrow, snow, high winds, and cold, so we did what most Americans would do, we canceled it...NOT...we did it the Russian way, WE PRAYED. (no offense intended, just one of many of our proven "perceptions")

Ten of us, including me, Michael and Caleb, met at the church, this morning for prayer. We began at 10:00 am. We divided into teams of three, with one team of two, and covered both sides of the village completely in about six hours. The temps were high 20's F and windy, but the snow and higher winds didn't come until we were driving away from the last home in the village. God did amazing things, as only He can do, because everything He does is amazing. We had a blessed day with many impressions and stories that just plain need retelling.

Just so you understand what a Russian village is like, I will try to explain. The fences are never ending, though they may not match. Some are wooden, some are metal, but they all connect the length of the whole village. Behind the fences are mostly wooden, log cottage looking homes, with painted wooden shutters (predominantly blue) and dogs, lots and lots of dogs, big (usually German Shepherds, Huskies, Chow), barking and mean dogs, some on chains, that end just where you are standing, when inside the gate, and some that are running free and jumping up onto the high fences. Within the fence, there is a door, big enough for one or two people to walk through. Sometimes it is hard to find the opening, as it looks like the fence in every way, except for the little wire or string that you pull from the outside, which lifts the inside latch to open.

Kak Obwichno (As always) some people weren't home, some weren't interested, some were drunk, some were crazy, some were afraid; and as always the case, some of us were afraid...of dogs and people. And some, actually many, were receptive, kind, wanted to hear about God's love and His plan, and really wanted God's Word.

The people were men, women, old, young, poor, rich, dark skinned, light skinned, fat, skinny, kind, mean and everything in between. They all have more than one thing in common with each other and us: we speak Russian,we have hearts, minds and souls, we are all living, and we are all going to die, we are all sinners, and we all need love, kindness and most importantly, forgiveness of our sins and a Savior.

Michael, Caleb and I started out together as a team. We had the Patrol, so we dropped people out inside the village where the different streets were, then we headed back out to the main road, and started going down the left side of the central road. We parked the vehicle and walked from house to house until we ran out of Bibles, then Michael would go back and drive up to where we left off and start again. When we got to about the 4th or 5th house, house number 37, we opened the outer gate and walked in, past the barking dog, whose chain stopped just short of us. We walked around the side of the house on the little path, and were met about halfway to the door by, a sweet, short, red-headed lady. She had a kind, gentle face, and the most beautiful gold teeth. We introduced ourselves and told her that we came from the city to her village to tell her that God loves her, and to give her a gift, His Word. She was very receptive and grateful. She agreed, as most Russians that we have shared with, that she was a sinner and without hope before a Righteous God. We told her that in the Bible we gave her, she could read more about God and His grace, mercy, and plan for all people and for her life; That He created us and loved us so much that he saw the problem of our sin, and sent His Son, Jesus,the only perfect One, to live, die, in our place,and rise again for us, so that we could have a personal relationship with God. If we only repent, turn from our sin, and accept His free gift of salvation, and asking Him to be our Lord and Savior. I then told her about prayer. I asked her if she had anything that I could pray for her about. She said, "Yes, my husband is ill." Then she invited us into her home. Caleb was standing closer to the gate and she told him to come too that it was too cold to keep standing outside. We went just inside the door, and were about to pray with her and she motioned us into a side room. She would not let us take off our dirty shoes (a strict Russian tradition, upon entering a home).

We walked into the room, and there in the bed, was an older gentleman. She said this is my husband, would you pray for him. None of us were prepared for what lay before us, him, or what God was about to do. He had a sad, sunken face, but with kind blue eyes. He had no legs, and homemade catheter with a sprite bottle, and tube sticking out of him. She introduced us to her husband, Valarry. The first words out of his mouth was,"Yesterday, I wanted to die." Only 61 years old-He told us of losing his legs because of Diabetes. We told him we wanted to talk to him about eternal life, and how much God loved him. Yeah, I know, but YES, HE DOES! No matter what is wrong with our body or soul, or whatever we have been through, He loves us. I believe this with all my being. We are more than these shells, this flesh that is surrounding us, that fall apart, decay, or are racked with disease, pain and hurts. We are meant for so much more. There is more to this life than can be seen, beauty unimaginable, which can only be truly found in Jesus. I am so glad Caleb was with us to witness, the most beautiful thing ever, first hand.

We asked him if we could pray for him. He said yes, but first he had some questions. He said, "I think I am going to die soon, but I have never been baptized." Michael shared with him what God's Word says about baptism. Then we talked to him more about faith, belief and repentance. He was obviously touched and ready. We asked him if he understood in his heart what Jesus did on the cross, and if he wanted to repent. He said yes, and could he do it now, from his bed. We explained what prayer was, talking to God, and telling him what our hearts were feeling, about confession and how we could speak to God that way. He said he wanted to, but didn't know what to say. I said I would help him, if he had that desire, and explained that the words don't mean anything to God unless it was truly from his heart. I had to touch him, so I asked him if I could sit beside him and touch him, to which he agreed. He repeated everything word for word, with tears and great emotion, for all of us. When he finished, he had such peace on his face, we welcomed him into the family of God and I told him he was my new brother. He grinned the sweetest grin, and said I have another question, "Do I need to buy a cross?" (necklace) Sweet, innocent, tender faith. When I think of the lies these people have been told of how to receive God's mercy, through works, prayers, baptism (all paid to the priests, of course, it makes me so sad.) We explained with much tenderness that if he wanted a cross there was certainly nothing wrong with it, but it was not required by God, that he wants us to wear Him in our hearts, soul and mind, not around our necks. Then I looked up and saw his wife, Maria, with tears streaming down her face. I asked her if she repented too. She said, "Yes, right along with my husband." OH JOY.... I got up and gave her a big hug and a kiss on her cheek, and told her she was my new sister. By now we are all in tears. Then he looked up at Michael and said, "You can't kiss her." So sweet, still flirting with his wife. We talked some more about our church and other things, and told them we would come back and study the Bible with them, and bring back some other brothers and sisters to pray with and encourage them. She promised to read the Bible to him every day.

When we arrived that house was full of despair, and death was in the air, but as always, when Jesus shows up, there is hope and life, and promise of a future in heaven. I honestly thought I was about to watch legs grow on him and he would get up and walk and dance, and God could so do that, but wait, the greater miracle as Jesus said, is that He forgives sin (Mark 2:9) Now he has eternal life, and really, when it is our time to die, and we are His, it is truly the ultimate healing. I am so grateful that I still have legs, and can walk into places and lives like that. I cannot wait to spend eternity with Jesus and Valarry. Though I don't get to experience it every day, I was born for this, and I pray that every person reading this realizes that too.

Oh and before I left, I just had to give Dyed (short for grandfather) Valarry a sisterly kiss on the cheek, because I am in love with little old men. Maria, didn't mind. As we were leaving, she walked us to the door. I gave her a loaf of bread and told her that Jesus is the real bread of life, and with Him we will never hunger. I remembered I had a fresh loaf of bread in my bag, given to me by a group of Armenian men (Michael was getting the car) I had just met them in a bread bakery (unlike any you have ever seen, the bakery and the men) I am still not convinced they weren't mafia, seriously...


...but that's another story.



Saturday, September 29, 2012

 
Posted by Picasa
Panama City Beach Cake 1 cup chocolate chips (unmelted) 1 cup chocolate chips (melted) ½ cup Graham Cracker Crumbs (about 6 crackers) 1/3 cup butter (melted) 1 cup walnuts (chopped) 2 cups All Purpose Flour 1 tsp. Soda 1 tsp. Salt ½ cup butter (softened, not melted 1 ½ cup sugar 2 Eggs 1 tsp. Vanilla 1¼ cup buttermilk (Sour Milk) Filling/Frosting: 2 Cups heavy cream 2 TBSP Sugar DIRECTIONS SET OVEN TO 375 Melt 1 cup chocolate chips, set aside. Grease and flour 2 – 9 inch cake pans Combine Graham cracker crumbs and 1/3 cup melted butter, stir in walnuts and 1 cup of the chocolate chips (unmelted). Set aside crumb mixture. Combine flour, salt and soda. Set aside flour Mixture. Cream ½ cup butter and gradually add 1½ cup sugar, cream well, add eggs, one at a time, beat well. Blend in melted chocolate chips (1 cup) and vanilla. At low speed, slowly add dry ingredients (flour mixture) alternating with buttermilk (beginning and ending with flour mixture) Pour into pans. Sprinkle with Crumb mixture. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes. COOL. Keep layers top-side up (crumb mixture on top). Filling/Frosting Directions: Beat Heavy Cream with 2 TBSP Sugar until stiff Fill and frost sides only. Refrigerate. Make at least a day in advance.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

HE IS WITH YOU

Reagan and Bryan will both be graduating from William Carey University in Hattiesburg, MS on May 12, 2012 –

I tell you no mama could be any prouder of her boys that this one. They continually amaze me, both of them, for different reasons and in different ways, as different as they are, but they amaze me.

College Graduation - What does it mean: for the Parent, for the graduate, for the family? I have been trying to wrap my mind and heart around it for some time now. How important is it? To God, I mean? Trying to convince myself that it is ok that that we would not get to be there. We have known since before our furlough that it was not going to work out for us to be able to return in May. Both Reagan and Bryan have told us at different times through their college years, of us not being there for different events or holidays or birthdays, that it is ok, that it isn’t that big of a deal, that they want us to be obedient, that we are where we need to be etc…

Each of them separately, during this last furlough,knowing their mama, talked with their Dad, about talking to me and helping me realize that their feelings would not be hurt, and they would not carry any lifelong scars from our (especially my) not being at their Graduations, that it was OK, not because they have heard me whine or complain, but because they know my heart.




Besides the boys’ graduation, Grace returns from Africa the middle of May, and her special Sword Ceremony for FUSION is in May. When we said our “see you later's” at the airport, as she was going to Africa, she knew we would not be able to return to the states for her return or for her ceremony. She knew that it would be hard for me, so she wrote me the sweetest note. We already knew that she was pretty sure that she was not going to return to Russia for the summer, so we had no idea when we would be able to see her again.





You see, I am the kind of mama, as I think most Mama’s are, that wants to be a part of everything they do as they grow up. I just want to “be there”. I get so much joy in watching them do anything that they enjoy or that brings them joy. When they were younger, and in our home, I didn’t want to miss a thing, and honestly, by the Grace of God, as He knows my heart (He gave it to me) I have not missed many things. I kept calendars and baby books updated for all of our kids and make a big deal about everything they are interested in. I am a cheerleader at heart, I love cheering them on, it is my greatest hobby.

There are times during the past few years and especially the last few months that I have asked questions to God and in my heart: How important is it to be there? I am not much of a people-pleaser in my older years, but I have wondered what our kids think, what others think about us not being there, not being close by while they are in college, not being there for them on weekends and holidays? What kind of parent misses college graduation?

All these questions swim endlessly through my heart and mind, as Satan has tried to accuse me and make me feel unmerited guilt. BUT God has given me His answers, He always gives His answers. He has given me His peace with every question, along with contentment and the realization that while it is important, and it is a big deal, a huge accomplishment, it isn’t THE BIGGEST DEAL. He is the biggest deal. His ways are higher and greater than our ways, and being obedient is better than sacrifice. He directs our path and works all things out according to His great plan and for our good and His glory. He has assured me that our children (even the grown ones) are HIS.

REAGAN, BRYAN AND GRACE: It took a lot of maturity, responsibility, discipline, focus, perseverance, trust, hard work, patience, stick-to-it-iveness, sweat, tears, resolve, guts, money, courage, commitment, time, strength, that you never even knew you had, and tons and tons of prayers from you, us and others; it took your obedience, and ultimately it took great faith, trust and dependence on God from each of you, and a whole lot of His grace for each of you to accomplish all that you have in the past 5 years, 4 years, and 1 year. One of my favorite sayings, that describes all three of you, that is a long standing joke in my family, which stems from an interview from a famous athlete that Uncle Keith and I heard on television one day over 20 years ago…..YOU WERE “DETERMINATED” (I guess the guy was trying to combine determined and dedicated). Through it all you haven't been selfish, or made us feel as though we have abandoned you. Just the opposite, you have been our greatest supporters, encouragers and prayer warriors. I admire each one of you. REAGAN, BRYAN AND GRACE, YOU ARE THE GUTSIEST, BRAVEST AND MOST COURAGEOUS THREE PEOPLE I KNOW AND I AM PROUD TO BE YOUR MAMA. WAY TO GO, REAGAN, BRYAN AND GRACE, WAY TO GO! I AM SO PROUD OF YOUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS, AND SO PROUD OF WHO YOU ARE AND WHO YOU ARE BECOMING. I HAVE NEVER AND WILL NEVER STOP PRAYING FOR YOU AND CHEERING YOU ON, NO MATTER HOW OLD I OR YOU GET. WHEN I GROW UP I WANT TO BE LIKE YOU. WITH ALL MY LOVE, AND FOR HIS GLORY, MAMA


For our kids it took a great deal more than for TAK’s. I am not fond of labels, but since people insist on using them for our kids “homeschoolers and MK’s” then I will create one of my own… typical American kids. For our kids, they had to learn a lot of new things like learning to live in America, relearning the American culture, I’m sure they are still learning to some degree, getting to know their relatives again, and in a different way, going to red neck funerals and weddings HAHAHA…getting used to being “an American” completely out of their comfort zones; and all this while being far away from home, siblings and parents for the first time, and not getting the choice of going home for the weekend, for holidays or birthdays or spring breaks or summer breaks. For them it was learning to adjust to “college life” and “adulthood” like all kids their age, except without their parents nearby, learning to take the initiative and taking care of all the things that some parents take care of for their college age kids. But they were not and will never be alone. He has been, is and will continue to be with them, I have His endless promises on that. He has, is, and will continue to watch over them. He has, is and will continue to guide them, whether, we can be there for them for everything or not.

"Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to Him, for God is our refuge." Psalms 62:8 NIV

Lord, I have come to believe and trust you. I realize that I do not have to understand You or Your ways completely to completely trust You. You are The Holy One, and You are the only One I can go to Who has the words of Eternal life. (my prayer from John 6:66-69

Monday, April 9, 2012

I Just Spilled Your Coffee...

If you are a facebooker, then maybe you have seen the collage of pictures for different roles and professions: The Military Wife, The Teacher etc... under each picture it reads something like this: What friends think I do, What my Husband thinks I do and so on, then the last picture has "What I really do". It reminded me of a story I penned about a real day in my life several years ago.

If you have been following my blog, then you already know that we are missionaries in Russia for the past 13 years.

We love to get emails from friends and churches with questions about us and our lives as missionaries. The one that is sometimes hardest to answer though is "So, what is a day in the life of a missionary like?" Below is a story of a "real" day in my life, back when we were in Moscow. All four of our kids were still home. They were all homeschooling in English half a day and going to Russian school the other half. I found a calendar from during that time, not long ago, and let's just say the days were full: Language lessons for everyone, piano lessons, guitar lessons, Russian school, basketball, Russian tutors, team meetings, evangelism, prayer walking, volunteer teams, reports, reports and more reports, Bible studies in 3 different homes, English club, not to mention just day to day living: cooking, shopping, cleaning, paying bills, which all can be quite complicated in another culture/country.

I thought it would be fun to share this old story with you, hope it brightens your day in some way, or at least helps you realize that "this too shall pass" Those kinds of "busy" days are long gone for me, with only a 15 year old still at home with us. I never thought I would say it, but I miss the "good ole days"!


THIS IS FOR EVERYONE WHO WANTS TO KNOW WHAT THE DAY IN THE LIFE OF A MISSIONARY IS “REALLY” LIKE, WHAT I REALLY DO: (Moscow 2004)

After cuddling with my kids, having an awesome Bible study/prayer time and about half of the cup of coffee that my husband brings me each morning, and a great start to my day, I decide to get to my dirty dishes. As I walk into the kitchen to turn on my praise music, I remember my half a cup of coffee by the bed that Michael brought me. As I go to get my coffee, I see a pile of clothes in the floor, and decide to put a load in first. So I set my coffee on my desk. When I start to put the clothes in, I realize why they were still in the floor. I still had some to hang out. As I put the clean wet clothes on the desk under the clothesline to hang them out, I notice a couple of tests in the basket and decide to grade them, but first I will heat up my half a cup of coffee. I take the grade book and tests to “Michael’s” desk, and my half a cup of heated coffee, where the computer is and begin to grade them when Caleb comes out and asks if he can read to me. As he is reading to me, I remember the wet clothes on the school books and rush to remove them before the books are ruined. As I am carrying the wet load of clothes to find the basket, the doorbell rings, so I put them back in the washer real quick and go get the door. At the door is Michael, who needs to get on the computer. He begins to fuss as the kids tests/books, and coffee near the computer. I quickly remove them from his desk and put them back in the box on my desk, along with the half a cup of coffee, now cold again. I proceed to put it in the microwave for 4th time, when I realize it is almost lunch time. I begin to make lunch and realize that I needed to go to the store for bread first. I go to find my list on my desk, when I see my house keys which I forgot to put back in my purse. I begin to look for my purse when Michael asks me to help him with some volunteer projects. I lay the keys down on the bookshelf and begin to help him, when he realizes the internet is not working. He picks up the phone to call the service provider, when he realizes the phone is also not working. While he is looking for his cell phone, I return to the kitchen to make lunch, when I remember that I never got to the dishes. Michael finds his cell phone which is out of time, so he borrows Reagan’s to call the phone company. They tell him he can access online to print the form to go to the bank to pay the bill, which we never received a total of about $3.00. He then calls the service provider who says he didn’t pay for service, which he did 2 days ago. He finally convinces her that it was paid. They finally turn it on, and he prints the paper needed and the place to go and pay and heads out to pay the phone bill. I decide to go back to the dishes. When I start to wash the dishes, I remember I never hung out the clothes. When I go to hang out the clothes, I see the grocery list and realize that dishwashing detergent and laundry detergent and bread are on the list. I decide to run down to the store, but I can’t find my purse. As I am looking for my purse, Reagan enters the room with a reading quiz for me to dictate. Before I can write down his grade, I need to find the stack of kid’s books that I moved from Michael’s desk, when I see my purse. I decide I better go to the store as the kids will be hungry and have to head to Russian school, when I realize I am out of rubles, and Michael has already left. I go and make the kids some soup, and find the last jar of peanut butter and a pack of crackers, when the phone rings and it is Michael (the cell phone). He says that he went to the bank paid the phone bill, and called the company to tell them it was paid, when she declares there is still no record of payment. She then asks him where he went and he says he went to bank of Moscow, where the note said. She says that it will take days from that bank to turn on the phone, that he should have gone to sberbank.

At the end of the day, I wondered what I did all day. I tried to figure out why nothing got done.

The dirty clothes were still in the floor. The wet clothes were still in the washer. The dirty dishes were still in the sink. The kids papers were still ungraded, and unfound. Caleb didn’t finish his reading. Reagan’s reading quiz grade didn’t get written down. The volunteer requests were not completed. Groceries were not bought. The phone was still off. I still couldn’t find my purse, my list, my keys, the kids’ tests to be graded, or my half a cup of cold coffee It was time to fix supper, and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember if I had even fed the kids lunch or not.

I was really confused because I knew I was busy all day long, and besides that, really tired. I decided to check to see if the internet and phone were working, when I heard from the hallway: “Mama, I just spilled your coffee all over our tests…"

IT WAS THE BEST OF TIMES, IT WAS THE WORST OF TIMES. hahaha

Saturday, April 7, 2012

"...IT IS FINISHED" John 19:30

IT IS FINISHED

Many people say that the three most powerful words in our language are "I LOVE YOU"

I would have to disagree on that one. I prefer "IT IS FINISHED"

The first thing that pops in my head, almost every time I hear the word "finish" goes back to our first year on the mission field, 1999:

We went to a little cafe in Moscow as a family. We couldn't read or understand much Russian yet, so ordering was a hoot. We decided to go with chicken.I mean chicken is always "safe", right? To the embarrassment of our kids, and probably Michael too, I said chicken (in broken English) and flapped my arms. No harm no "foul" it worked and our orders were on their way. (Like we weren't already sticking out enough, a family of 6 Americans going out to eat. We were quite the "eye stoppers" everywhere we went.) They brought back what looked like chicken legs for each of us and some mashed potatoes with some sort of "sauce" and some sort of salad with some sort of green stuff all over it. We tried to pick up our legs, but to our surprise it wasn't a chicken leg at all. It was in the shape of a leg (like how long did it take them to do that creative art; now we are understanding why it took so long) It was mushy and tasted weird. We now know after living in Russia for years that it was a "cutlet" of some kind, who knows what kinds of meats or animal parts were in it. So we all stopped poking and eating. All through the meal, the waitress kept taking our napkins and our silverware, if we set it down, it was gone before you could stop them, not that we would know how to stop them. So the waitress looks over and comes over to the table, she says something, which we don't understand, and keeps saying something we don't understand. Finally she blurts out, "You Finnish" with a heavy Russian accent. One of the boys, pretty sure it was our eldest, said, "No, we are American's", (under his breath). I really don't think she heard him, but it was super funny (to me at least)I think he heard a story from another "M" and decided to practice it on someone else. It has made me laugh all through the years just to think about it.

I love to "finish" things. Sometimes I do things poorly or in a hurry just so I can finish and say, "I'm finished" "Whew that's out of the way." I am a huge note/list maker too. I love to write notes and make lists: things to do around the house, things to tell my kids, teach my kids, things to buy, things to do someday, things I have done. Sometimes I even do something that isn't on my list, then go write it on the list, and then go and mark it out.

My lists or notes aren't on a tidy little note pad either. They are anywhere, backs of print outs, in my Sudoku book, any little free corner of any thing I can write on or that is nearby. No empty space is wasted. My lists aren't pretty, my handwriting is atrocious. My lists are not in linear order; they are all over the page: sideways, upside down, diagonal. They have squiggly marks,doodles, sunshine faces, rainbows, little "V" birds, trees and words...lots of words: circled words, triangled words, recatangled words, underlined words, all caps, small caps, My "O's" and "A's" have smiley faces in them...there are arrows, asterisks, parenthesis, colons, question marks.

My absolute favorite thing to do is mark things off lists. I love it...it's like I'm addicted or something. I don't just put one line through it either. First I put a check mark in front of it, then I put a line through it, then another line, then I scribble over it and do little circles so that what I did cannot even be recognized by the human eye. I don't know why, because they are not legible anyway. Then I throw it away, but I don't just wad it up, I tear it,then wad it and usually throw it on the floor, then pick it up later, unless Michael is home, because it bothers him to see all my wadded torn paper all around me."Why don't you just get a can and throw it straight into the can?" He thought he broke me of this, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him... Cause I like to see it torn up all over the floor and then feel the pleasure of picking it all up...that's why, so I can see it FINISHED. I mean I am done with it. FINISHED.

Yep, I have a great "list story": Once I was in walmart, back at the dressing rooms. It was one of the late night, "going back to the field soon" nights. I had Mamaw, Michael, Grace and Caleb with me AND MY LIST. We had about 30 minutes to buy all the kids clothes to take back, and baby, we were gettin her done. I am not much of a lazy, take your time, kind of window shopper. I got a list, and I get it done and get out of there. So the kids were trying on something and I was out at the little desk, checking over my list. The lady working was obviously having a bad day, so I was trying to cheer her up. I had my list, but I didn't have my pen, so I asked to borrow hers, that she was doing some sort of puzzle with. She gave me a dirty look, but handed it to me. I thought she might be afraid I would take, so I said, I will give it right back, just need to mark some things off my list. So I "went to town", marking, just double marking, I didn't have time to scribble, or for all the squigglies and circles, I would go back and do that later. (HAHA) The lady actually said, you are wasting my pen. Just put a line through it and be done. I could not believe it. It wasn't like a 20 dollar pen or anything, it was like a black Bic that you buy in a box for 10 for a dollar or something. I finished my "one line marking" then gave her pen back. I try to always remember my pen from then on.

In my situation, I like to finish things, so I can move on to something else, feel accomplished, it is for me, basically. "Whew that is finished, next"

When Jesus "finished it". It was "for good and for all" He had me and you and every person of the world in mind. He did it all. He went to the Cross with joy, and completed the task that was set before Him, by His Father, once and for all. He was beaten and ridiculed beyond imagination, and suffered and died a cruel horrible death on the Cross. The Scripture says that He was not even recognized to be a man. He took on the sins of the world, yours and mine, for us. He was separated for the first time from His Father, forsaken and alone. He became ugly to make us beautiful, He became sin, to free us from the bondage of sin. He was alone so that we could be with Him forever and never be alone. He was forsaken, so that we could be accepted. He went through pain so that we can have joy, turmoil for our peace. His heart was broken, so that we can have pure, new hearts. He took our punishment so we could have His grace and mercy. He never once defended Himself, fought back, or returned evil for evil. He just took it, took it all, all our punishment and judgement, so we could be forgiven and saved. He took all of God's wrath, so we could experience His great love and grace. He knew that no one, No one, Not one would speak up for or defend Him, but He did it anyway, so that He could speak up for us, on our behalf. Then He gave it all, everything, His very life, so that we could have Eternal Life.

He took my sins, the sins of the world, wrote them on a list (more like books), put a line through them, then another line, He scribbled them out, scratched them out, turned the paper over and blotted them out from the other side, soaked them in His blood, nailed them to a tree, then he ripped them off the tree, wadded them up and threw them as far as the east is to the west.... IT IS FINISHED, YES IT IS!

Because He finished it, we can now come before the Father: He tore the veil, so we have access to Him, nothing can keep us from His presence now. It is not based on anything we have done, or could ever do, but all because of what Jesus did and what He said, "IT IS FINISHED." THANK YOU, JESUS, FOR FINISHING IT FOR ONCE AND FOR ALL!

Chris Tomlin
Amazing Love

I’m forgiven because You were forsaken,
I’m accepted, You were condemned.
I am alive and well, Your spirit is within me,
Because You died and rose again.

Amazing love,
How can it be
That You, my King, should die for me?
Amazing love,
I know it’s true.
It’s my joy to honor You,
In all I do, I honor You.

You are my King
Jesus, You are my King

Friday, April 6, 2012

"...forgive them they know not what they do..."

Father forgive them, for they know not what they do (Luke 23:34) WORDS OF FORGIVENESS

I am always touched by these words of Jesus, such compassion toward mankind, undeserved compassion.

I can’t understand that kind of love, in His agonizing pain and suffering thinking of me, standing in the gap before the Father for me, crying out for my forgiveness, but I want it, I need it and I totally accept it.

Without His hearts cry in obedience to the will of the Father portrayed in these words,and in His actions: His submission to the cross, there would be absolutely no Eternal hope for me or for anyone.

These words have comforted me over and over in times of confession and repentance, when needing to sense His forgiveness.

I often ask my Father to help me to pray and practice these words in my life toward those I must forgive and who desperately need His forgiveness.

This kind of forgiveness is different than the warped forgiveness we hear about and see practiced in the world, and sometimes in the church…”I will forgive but I won’t forget” “I will forgive but I don’t want a relationship” “I will forgive this, but I won’t forgive that” “I will forgive if the person asks me and I sense their repentance is real” “I will forgive if the person who sinned against me changes or makes it right”

These are just words of forgiveness, with no act or deed to follow, these are conditional forgiveness, and in my opinion, not really forgiveness at all. Real Agape forgiveness requires action and leads to salvation for mankind, and reconciliation with God and man.

This is the only kind of forgiveness that is real, and it takes understanding all we have been forgiven by God, to truly learn how to forgive others. It isn’t easy, as it wasn’t easy for Jesus, but through Christ, and because of what He did (and does), all things are possible. I am so thankful for His gift of forgiveness in my life: to know it and show it.

I don't know who is reading, but I am 100 percent sure that you need God's forgiveness, pretty sure you need to forgive yourself, or someone in your life, and you may need to ask someone to forgive you today. I pray that He will give you the strength and courage in Christ to live a life of forgiveness.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Just another day in Paradise (another name for Siberia)

THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS (AND ITS ALWAYS THE LITTLE THINGS THAT MEAN THE MOST)

One of my favorite things is when Michael goes out on errands...hahaha..gotchya, what I was trying to say is when Michael goes out and comes back. The door to our apartment building goes beep and exactly 2 minutes, I hear the key in the door and then "Hey" The return "heys" are down to only 2 now, me and Caleb. Then, if I am really lucky, these words follow: "Do you love me?"

When I hear, "DO YOU LOVE ME?", my heart skips a beat, because it means he brought me something. I LOVE THAT and He knows that I love that. Its one of my favorite things.

It all started the first time we met, who would know that one of his gifts is giving and I have the gift of receiving. We are the perfect match hahaha. The first night we met, was at Jones Junior College. I had been out jogging, as I ran up to my dorm, all my girlfriends and guyfriends from highschool were standing out front talking, along with another guy, who I didn't know. He was tall, dark haired, with olive colored sparkly eyes. He wore a long sleeve button down shirt, with his initials on the collar (okay it was early 80's) it was "IN" then. Levi jeans and grey blue snakeskin boots, and super quiet. After a few minutes (checking him out), I decided to introduce myself. I told him my name and asked him his name. I remember he was eating candy. He has always had a sweet tooth :) One of the girls asked for a piece of gum or candy, but noone answered her. After several minutes, he came over beside me and slipped me a piece of candy. I think I turned several shades of red.

On our first date, he brought me candy or gum (i especially liked the bazooka cartoons, we would read them and laugh) The treats were always in his shirt pocket, I never remember a time when he didnt have me a treat every date after that. One day it was his big ole class ring, which meant we were going steady and he wasnt dating anyone but me (I done said it was the 80's) hahaha... After a few months he started bringing me IBC rootbeers, so cold and so yummy. That meant, I WAS THE LUCKY ONE. After we had established the fact that we loved each other, he would always ask me if I loved him, "Do you love me?" before he'd let me get my surprise...one time he was running late for our date and he didnt have time to get me anything, so when i reached into his pocket, there was money...and then we went by the store and got me a rootbeer. seee...it melted my heart toooo.

A picture of Michael when we were dating (He is definitely one of my favorite things)




















A Picture of me when we were dating




















After almost 29 years, he still surprises me with goodies, hence, why I have gained almost 40 lbs since we first met...guess I need to start running again hee hee

Yesterday (Saturday) I lost it...I don't know what started it, I think it was when we were folding out the couch for Caleb. He woke up yesterday morning with 103 fever and bad sore throat. Michael was sick all week and the van hasnt started all week, and we have been stuck up in our apartment, dead of winter, with -20 temps, for a few days and certainly havent felt like we are being the "hero missionaries" expected of us (haha)out knocking on doors and spreading the Gospel, we havent been able to go to any villages witnessing since our return...then Caleb wakes up sick. Pretty sure it is strep throat (love how we self diagnose everything here) We have prayed over him, made him some homemade chicken soup and got him some Amoxicillan, moved him to the couch in our room, and he is on the way to recovery.

When we folded out the couch a memory from our days in Moscow when all the kids were still in our home popped in my mind. We used to fold out the couch (which was also mine and Michaels bed) and pile up and watch a movie (one of my favorite things) and eat popcorn and laugh till we cried. In Moscow we always had popcorn, which I love, and we even had our little dachsund, Freda (she has also been abandoned in American with our other children and everyone else Satan tells me I have abandoned LIAR). ..Even Freda loves popcorn.

Popcorn is one of my favorite things...But we cant usually get popcorn here! All those memories popped in my head and in about 5 seconds, I was BAWLING uncontrollably. LIKE BAWLING. Michael, nor Caleb had a clue...poor guys. They were both asking me what was wrong...through muffled sniffs and blubbers, I somehow muffled out that I miss my grown kids and I miss how it used to be and I missed all piling up in the bed together eating popcorn, and I miss our whole family serving together, and house church and and and I blubbered on and on...

I am normally a logical thinking, a mature, a sensible person, even for a woman... and not usually a super emotionally crippled blubber bucket... I know it is ok, and I know they are ok, and I know I am ok, but I miss "it". After hugs from caleb and a family group hug (much smaller than it used to be) I felt much better...Hugs are definitely one of my favorite things. Later, Michael hugged me and told me that he would never grow up (I believe that) hahaha...gosh he makes me laugh- Laughter is one of my favorite favorite things... After a few minutes, I was ok again. Then later, the Lord blessed us to be able to skype with Bryan, Hannah and Eli (he can make anyone smile and laugh), and then Reagan, so that was awesome! We got to talk to both sets of parents, and heard from Grace in Africa, and saw her pictures... Friends sent encouragement through email and FB, who didnt even know I had a hard day (or more like hard 10 minutes)These are all a few of my favorite things for sure !! Thank goodness my pity parties don't last long...tomorrow is a new day.

JUST ANOTHER DAY IN PARADISE...Today is Sunday, and Michael finally felt well enough to go see about the van and try to get it running. I dont remember hearing the downstairs door beep, when the front door opened, I waited to hear if it was Sasha coming home "Privyet" or Michael with "Hey".

It was then that I heard, "DO YOU LOVE ME?"

Michael walks in and hands me a bag full of packets of popcorn...I love popcorn...anyone who knows me knows this. Every time we go to a new store or the old store, we look for popcorn, but they just dont have it here, and if they do it is rare. We had house church and sang random songs our of our Baptist Hymnal we brought from Mississippi (the old green one) The sermon was entitled "Making it to the Finish Line"...boy did God know I needed that one. We had a great day, I even made homemade pizzas.

Things don't always stay the same, as a matter of fact most things in our lives since 2005 have not even semi stayed the same. Children change: they grow up and move out and move on, and with that come changed relationships, parents age, parents die, family and friends die, Locations change: family moves, friends move, we move. we grow older (sometimes heavier, sometimes balder) Familiarity changes: one day we have popcorn the next year we don't, sometimes we get sick, cars break down (and Mama's) some never get well, but are healed eternally, parents miss their college kids and their college kids' graduations, and big events, and grandchildren... and the list goes on... Most of the changes we cannot control and were never meant to change.

But what we can do is hug one another, be kind to one another, pray for one another, send notes and pictures,make some homemade chicken soup, and homemade pizza, skype every now and then, smile at one another, pile up on the bed, talk about our memories, laugh together, listen to sermons online, sing hymns,get the van fixed, and watch American Idol, and buy somebody some popcorn...We can choose contentment. We can choose to love and enjoy the ones we are with, and pray for the ones who are not here. We can choose to understand and accept that God brings about all sorts of changes, mostly so that we see Him, know HIm and His presence, and learn to depend on and trust Him more and more. No matter what changes or trials or storms we face, we can choose to worship and be grateful to the One who never changes and I am OK with that. Trusting Him is my favorite favorite thing.


The last time we found popcorn in the city, Michael bought all they had, about 5 little bags (it takes three to make one batch). He saved the packet. This was almost a year ago. Yesterday, he found the packet and called and found out that he could pick some up at the pet store. WHAT, DID YOU SAY THE PET STORE? (it is beside the zoo, which makes popcorn) GO FIGURE...so now, when we run out of popcorn, all he has to do is call the number and go to the pet store to pick it up, if the van is running.

each packet costs about 10 rubles. One batch costs about 1.00... IT SURE WAS YUMMY, You know, everything in life is better, when not taken for granted!!!


 

 

 

 

 
Posted by Picasa

Friday, March 2, 2012

A GLIMPSE OF OUR LIVES

 
Posted by Picasa


OUTSIDE OUR APARTMENT WHERE CALEB PLAYS SOCCER


OUR APARTMENT BUILDING


 
Posted by Picasa


OUR ENTRANCE (Michael, Grace and Caleb exiting to go to church)

 
Posted by Picasa


 
Posted by Picasa


OUR OUTSIDE DOOR

 
Posted by Picasa





 
 
 
 
 
 


OUR ENTRY WAY IN WINTER HAHA

Posted by Picasa


OUR BEDROOM/ LIVING ROOM AND OFFICE





 


 

 

 
Posted by Picasa


BOOKSHELVES IN OUR HALLWAY



OUR WASHING MACHINE



OUR SINK AND TUB (Russian apartments have one small room with sink and tub and another small room with just the toilet. Sort of convenient :)



OUT TOILET ROOM

Posted by Picasa


 


OUR OVEN

Posted by Picasa



 

OUR KITCHEN

Posted by Picasa




OUR VAN


 
Posted by Picasa


OUR FAVORITE STORE MAXI (HAS A SUBWAY IN IT)

 
Posted by Picasa