Merry Merry Christmas!!!

The other night, we went for a walk with some of our favorite people to see the beautiful Christmas decorations in Ohrid. They are gorgeous this year.

It's not Christmas in Macedonia until January 7th, and if you remember from past years, the big celebration here is New Years. That's when Santa comes. (No mixing of Santa and Jesus craziness.) 

Thomas with Santa last year at his preschool concert

Santa also visited Kate's class last year. He was not the most energetic but the kids didn't seem to mind cause he came bearing packets of candy and goodies.

This year, in spite of the packing madness, we managed to get in a few fun traditions with the kids. It was a Christmas miracle.

Making cookies with friends.  It. Was. Crazy! But super fun!

Christmas movie with my loves!

We hope that you and yours have a very fantastic day celebrating.  Our kids are still in school this week, but, along with you, we will be taking some time to celebrate God made flesh.  

I will leave you with a few videos from Christmases past.

Thomas and Kate circa 2011. Cute. Cute. Cute!!!

Thomas' preschool concert last year. Thomas is on the front row, far left.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!!

Tis the Season

"Tis the season to be jolly and joyous." 

It's a line from one of our favorite Christmas movies. We had it going the other day, but I was doing other things while the movie played in the background of my new busy.  I heard those words over the screams of a very loud and stubborn one year old as he cried for more juice. Jolly and joyous?  I am barely hanging on here, people. Jolly and joyous have left the building. I think they started packing their bags when we put packing into overdrive. They got a ticket to ride on out of here about the time I got a phone call and a few messages delivering news of health issues about people I love who are a million miles away. I'm pretty sure jolly and joyous finally busted out of here with half of our stuff the other day as we wrapped up a yard sale, and if there was any jolly or joyous still hanging around, they climbed into my microwave and walked out with the man who insisted he had to have it right then. Jolly and joyous left the building, and bless their hearts, they really didn't have a fighting chance this year. 

We did everything right. We put up our tree 1.2 seconds after Thanksgiving ended. Twinkling lights. Ornaments that carry memories of babies' first Christmases and baby's obsession with Elmo. Stockings hung by the glow of the tv with care. A nativity scene that is supposed to bring our eyes back into focus. The movies. The Advent stories. The packages from America. It was all lost on me this year and the air in here got heavier and heavier. 

It's the season to be jolly and joyous but it didn't feel that way. I don't want to be packing to say goodbye to this home and these people I love. I don't want to watch my oldest babies break apart over losing their people here. I don't want to live one minute without my microwave in it's place in my kitchen. I don't want to be a million miles from my family right now. It was supposed to be easier than this.

Then there's the manger over there in the window sill with a little plastic Jesus lying in its little plastic hay. Plastic Mary is looking over her babe with care and awe. And the others, well one wise man and his camel have gone missing, but the other plastics are all huddled around the Baby King. They are bowed down. In a plastic stable, with a plastic star glued to its roof, they are worshipping Him, in their own plastic way. 

And if it were all just plastic, it would be ok to be kind of like the mean one, Mr. Grinch, all year long. Or maybe we could be like the missing plastic wise man and just run away. What reason would there be to let jolly and joyous back in? They can be kind of annoying. But it isn't plastic. It is real. He really came. He really left His throne to enter a womb, to be born into a dark, damp and stinky barn filled with animals, into a poor home, in a humble town, to be wanted for dead by a king who was threatened by him as a small child, to be raised as the son of a carpenter, feeling the same pains we feel and being able to sympathize with us in all things. He really became God incarnate. God made flesh. Because God so loved the world...

For a minute or two, I took my eyes off of it--the glory of it all. It had become plastic. But even when jolly and joyous left, He didn't. He knows what it means to say, "Father, take this cup from me." And because He said it, I am free to say it, but the most freedom comes in saying with my whole heart, "Not my will, but yours be done." 

You want me packing my bags by the glow of the twinkling lights? Your will be done.

You want me here instead of there by their sides? Your will be done.

You want me to say some of the hardest goodbyes of my life? Your will be done.

You want me to move to a place that I never thought I'd go in a million years? Your will be done.

You want to strip me bare--my stuff, my people, my heart? Your will be done.

You want to refine me in the fire to make me look more like you? Your will be done.

He never said it would be easy. He didn't promise me that I would frolic around with glee at every turn. He didn't promise jolly and joyous would stick around all the time. In fact, he promised it would be hard. He modeled walking through the hardest fight ever fought on this earth. He was hated and mocked and misunderstood. They spat on Him and beat Him beyond recognizability. He carried the weight of a tree in the form of a cross up a hill. He was nailed to it. He took the wrath and punishment of God that I deserved upon Himself. He let them murder Him and He suffered hours alone without His Father. He was bruised, crushed, crucified. His body was broken and I believe His heart was, too. Fullness of pain so that I could have fullness of Him. 

"Count it all joy..." He has overcome the world. He has come to dwell among us... IN us.  Good news of GREAT JOY! 

And they're back, joyous, and even a little jolly, because He has done great things for me. He is here, dwelling richly in me, conforming me to look more like Himself. And I can say, even if there is nothing else, even if all else is lost, I have Him, the one who loves my soul and died to make me His own. Christmas trees and big fat dudes dressed in red with long white beards ain't got nothing on that kind of jolly. It's a jolly and joyous that hang around all year.

We're a rough looking crew this year, with runny mascara and bags under our eyes (ok, that's just me), but we are all hanging on to our Jesus.

So may you and yours have a jolly and joyous season, not because everything is ok, but because He has come. He is here and He loves you!

Merry Christmas!

Favorites: Breakfast Foods

Today's favorite things is brought to you, in part, by Grease and Carbs. 

Gjomleeze - Oil, Flour, Salt. Thin salty crepe-like layers that are cooked over a wood fire. It's an art, really.  The flavors are about as simple as they come, but the crispy outside paired with the greasy gooey inside, delicious! Macedonians normally eat it for breakfast. And if Brian is out before breakfast, you can bet he is grabbing one of these from one of the outside vendors. 

Years ago, we helped some friends make a pan, and it took hours! 

In the big round pan, on a wood burning outdoor stove, one of the first layers got going. And of course, there was some Turkish coffee (boiling in the blue pot) to get things started right.

And while you're waiting on it to cook, why not bust out the accordion and the drum for a little jam session?!

It certainly is worth the wait and all the work.  

The little bake shops around town are also a favorite. They are about as common as the mini-markets. Fresh baked breads of all sorts fill their shelves. Some pastries are filled with ham and cheese. Some feta-like cheese. Some are filled with sour cream. Some pepperoni, cheese, mushrooms and pizza sauce. Some spinach, and some are plain with just sesame seeds sprinkled on top.  And of course there are a few sweet ones filled with Nutella, apples or cherries. And my personal favorite, the Virshla--the hot dog wrapped in delicious dough and baked to gooey perfection. It's the ultimate pig-in-a-blanket. Yum. 

And then there is the breakfast of champions: BUREK. The far window is full of fresh-baked burek. Burek comes in several different varieties, too.  There is burek with ground meat, burek with feta-like cheese, burek with spinach, and even, pizza burek. We normally stick with the feta or meat filled one.   Pizza burek is a little too exotic for our taste.

In our almost nine years here, this is the first time I have ever had burek in a packet. They normally serve it on a plate with a fork and knife.  

Look at that cheese! Yum! 

Kate and I could only eat about half of it. It's massive and so full of grease that your arteries start hurting about half-way through. But it sure is delicious.

Here, breakfast foods mean lots of oil. And who doesn't need a little grease to start their day?!

We plan on enjoying these favorite things to the utmost the next month, and after that, we will start our detox diet.

In the Boat

It was about five years ago. Brian told me to grab my Bible and my journal and pushed me out the door for a morning alone at a coffee shop.  Like most mornings in Ohrid, it was quiet. Peaceful. There wasn't much going on, just a few shop owners out cleaning the cobblestone path in front of their store, a few older men out for their morning stroll, a few fishermen out to find their morning catch.  I chose a coffee house that sits right on the water and picked a table right on the edge of the water so that I would have to work to see anything except the beautiful creation of God. And I sat, Bible in front of me, warm coffee in hand, sun shining brightly on my face.  I read the Word. I wrote in my journal. I sat and looked out over the water into the horizon full of beautiful massive mountains.  I thought about how great our God is and how amazing it is to be called a child of the Creator. I thought about the great calling He had placed on my life and how it had gone from feeling exciting to feeling heavy. I felt the weight of it bearing on my chest. Burden. But his burden is supposed to be light, right?

As I sat, He sent a beautiful picture in a small boat that rowed right in front of me. In a little row boat, which is a common sight out on our lake, a grandfather and his granddaughter rowed by. This was not a new sight. But that day, I saw the placement of their hands. The little girl, probably about 5 years old, held on tightly to one oar and rowed with all her might. Her arms weren't long enough to reach and hold both oars at the same time.  Her grandfather's were. He had his hands on both oars, and with his great strength, he rowed the boat through the water.

There was excitement on the little girl's face as she helped him move the boat closer and closer to the dock. She could have never done it on her own, and he certainly didn't need her to help. Her hands on the oar were just decoration as far as he was concerned, but he let her be there--in the boat with him.  It was his kindness toward her and love for her that allowed her to be there, that wanted her to be there. And she was clearly pleased to be with her grandfather moving their little boat through the water.

As I sat there and thought about that beautiful picture the Lord had allowed me to see, I thought about how it is the same with me.  I can't do it. I can't bear the weight of the work on my own. It will crush me. At my best, with my one hand on one of the oars rowing with all my might, I will only go around in circles. And that is just, well, dizzying. But He never meant for me to move the boat. He meant only for me to be in the boat with him. To enjoy him, to enjoy the ride, to learn from him as he guides it all and to be amazed at how strong He is. It's so simple.

I recorded all of this in my journal and then sat for a few minutes finishing up my coffee, and as so often is the case, the waters went from calm and still to rough and choppy in just a matter of minutes. I looked up from my journal and saw the same little boat returning to the little fishing village.  This time, the water wasn't calm. It wasn't safe. But there was no fear or anxiety in the little girl's face. She sat calmly and watched her grandfather. He was now on his feet, both oars in hand, rowing fiercely to get through the waves.  Things had gotten rough, scary even, but she remained peaceful with her eyes fixed on the man in whom she clearly had full trust. She didn't jump out of the boat. She sat in what looked like perfect peace. But what was even more telling to me was that she didn't take the oars in her own hands either. She could've tried to rip the oars out of grandpa's hands in an attempt to get home faster, in an attempt to get out of the storm quicker. She could have taken matters in her own hands striving, from lack of faith, to do a job she was far too small to do. But she didn't. She just sat and waited until they got safely home by the hand of her grandfather.

And five years later, her little face is still engrained in my mind. I hope I never forget it, because to me on that day the coming and going of that boat was a kind conviction of the Holy Spirit.  I had tried to move this thing on my own. I had tried to take control of something that was never meant for me to control, and it was heavy and burdensome.

In the face of that little girl and her simple interaction with her grandfather, the Father spoke volumes to me. He has me here, in this boat, if you will, to know him more, to gain Christ, and to make him known. I have the immense privilege of telling people who are slaves to sin that they need Jesus, that He is their freedom, that He finished the work and wants to buy them out of slavery into freedom.  I GET to tell that wonderful news to people. It's my little hands on the oars of a giant boat. I can't steer it. But in every move the boat makes, I get to see His mighty power working in my weakness to make himself known among a people who sit in darkness. In it, I get to know my Jesus better, and I get to see Him work in ways that are beyond what I could ask or imagine. In it, He will get me through every storm. In it, He will get me safely home. He is faithful. He is big and strong and good. And where He is, there is peace.