Thanksgiving and Favorites

We hope you all had a fantastical Thanksgiving with your families!  We had a great day with a full house and full bellies. It was great to get together with some of our closest friends here. It was comfortable and easy and so so good.

See, there I am making homemade gravy with a smile! The day was relatively stress free. Praise Jesus!

Brian made the name of Jesus great as he read from several different passages and focused on the fact that if we don't have Jesus, then we don't really have anything at all.  Everything else is perishable and will pass away, but Jesus, the giver of all these things, He is constant and eternal. He focused on the fact that we must know Him, walk with Him, live in fellowship with Him. Good stuff!

"Every good and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change." James 1:17

Blurry picture :( of some of our favorite people gathered around the table with us.  

It really was a great day and we are so thankful that we got to spend the day with friends.

Pumpkin pie tarts, I ate my weight in these little things.  

Don we now elastic britches. Falalalalalala.

Isaiah stole the whipped cream. I found him behind the couch. He put on his elastic britches first thing. Smart baby.

The day was great and we are so thankful for our friends here.  We had a good laugh about America and how they are all being so thankful on this day, and the next day, they will get up before the sun and charge the doors of department stores. Oh America! The world laughs at you a little. ;) But hey man, who can turn down a $5 tv?! 

And since it is Friday, I will leave you with a few of our favorite things.

This man walking his girl through Romans 8. She had some pretty serious and crazy deep questions about her salvation, the Holy Spirit, and those who don't believe.  He helped her work through it all.  So stinking good!!!

Muscles and also Isaiah's face.

Big bags of walnuts from friends and late night walnut crackin' fun with the family.  Yes, we did use pliers.

And this little gem--the Macedonian burger.  It's massive and french fries are plopped right in the middle of it. Best part: the little fork they give you to eat your fries with, because you would never touch a fry with your fingers. :)

Happy Thanksgiving weekend! And Happy Shopping Day! 

One Letter Makes All the Difference

Language learning. Any cross-cultural worker has been faced with the daunting task. Even if they have tons of English speaking friends, there had to be at least a little survival language learned. Words like bathroom, hello, goodbye, and thank you. We threw ourselves head first into language learning here and can say pretty much anything we want to say. We can also understand practically everyone, unless they have missing teeth (and then, y'all, it's a struggle).

In the years of language learning, of becoming "fluent," we have realized we will forever be language learners.  You just never completely master it. You don't know the words for going to the dentist until you, well, go to the dentist. And all the words dealing with crashing into somebody's car, you learn when you crash into somebody's car.

In Macedonian, there's a word for 'learning' and a word for 'learned'. On good days, people will say, "Oh. You learned Macedonian. Bravo." On bad days, when everything comes out mixed up or you say one sound wrong, "Oh, you are learning Macedonian. You will learn." you hang your head low and think, "If they had only heard me yesterday...."  Because one letter, one sound, really can make all the difference.

bela and belja-- the difference between calling someone whitey and calling them a trouble-maker

kako and kaka -- the difference between saying "how" or "like" and saying something is dirty (like stinky dirty).
Kako si? = How are you? Kaka si? You are (ahem) what fills a diaper?

tivka and tikva -- The difference between being quiet and being a pumpkin.
"Oh, my daughter is not sad, she is just really a pumpkin.

Preliv and Proliv -- The difference between frosting and diarrhea.
"Yes. That diarrhea on top of the cake you're eating is homemade. It's a new recipe!"

Izbor and Izvor -- The difference between a choice and a natural spring.
"Jesus has given you a natural spring to make."

Pechen and pechaten -- The difference between baked and sealed.
"You have been baked in the Holy Spirit."

Chesna and Cheshma -- The difference between scratching and the tap.
"Water from the scratch, please."

Lubovniza and Lubeniza -- The difference between a lover and a watermelon.
"Oh yeh. I bought three lovers yesterday. They were sweet."

I've heard worse. WAY worse.  The things that come out of expats' mouths in the effort to learn a language. Y'all! It can get ugly! Really ugly! But we certainly have a good time telling language learning war stories.

Those of us who are life-long language learners know there are days when you can just laugh off those mistakes, and there are days when you want to crawl in a hole and die.  There are days when telling your sweet old neighbor that you put diarrhea on top of her cake is just too much. Poor sweet Baba has never been around anyone learning a new language before and she just can't understand why on earth... What is wrong with these Americans???

And so what is the lesson?  Nothing more than a good fat dose of humility!

And so my fellow language learners, I raise my hand to you! Solidarity!

Press on! You will get it!

And just when you think you've mastered it, you will get ahead of yourself and say "Kaka si?" to your visa inspector.

And He gives more giggles, I mean grace.  ;)

Cling

It was several years ago. I was working my way through Psalm 119.  It was a hard time.  I was young in this work and some things had hit me in the face like bricks. We had some pretty big setbacks.  We had put our hope in a few people who had let us down in a big way, and we were broken.  In God's providence, He had me in Psalm 119, and one day as I read verses 25-32, God showed me something pretty incredible.

My soul clings to the dust; give me life according to your word! When I told of my ways, you answered me. Teach me your statutes! Make me understand the way of your precepts, and I will meditate on your wondrous works. My soul melts away for sorrow; strengthen me according to your word! Put false ways from me and graciously teach me your law! I have chosen the way of faithfulness; I set your rules before me. I cling to your testimonies, O Lord; let me not be put to shame! I will run in the way of your commandment when you enlarge my heart! (emphasis mine) ESV

My soul clings to the dust. In other translations, the psalmist is "laid low in the dust." He is cast down. Discouraged. He is hanging on for dear life.

For me, the Lord used this very clearly, very pointedly, in my life to point out that I was actually clinging to dust--all those things, all those people, all those plans that. aren't. God.  If I am clinging to anything other than Jesus and His Words spoken to me through Scripture, I am committing idolatry. That clinging is worshipping, putting weight on, depending on and even loving something other than or more than Him. 

Give me life!

The Psalmist goes on to declare, "I want to change. Teach me. Show me. Make me understand your ways. Apart from your word, I melt away in sorrow.  When we begin clinging to anything but Him, we melt away. I have felt it. I have melted. I couldn't bear the weight of the dust anymore. The more dust you cling to, the heavier it gets. Clinging to dust brings sorrow. It brings death.  

Here we see a humble created being, made from dust, crying out to his Creator. He repents. He puts his thoughts on God's wondrous works and He chooses the way of faithfulness. He sets the precepts of the Lord before him.

I cling to your testimonies, O Lord.

He was drowning. Melting. He cried out in desperation and repentance. He said, I can't bear it anymore. Teach me. Show me. Be gracious towards me. I cling to you, to your word.  

From clinging to the dust to clinging to the Word of God, he goes from melting to running and from sorrow to hope of an enlarged heart. The hope of knowing God, of knowing and keeping His word, of clinging to Him brings a "broadened heart"--more knowledge and a better ability to know God's will and understand His ways. 

Oh how the Lord has used this in my life.  I so often start off seeking God's vision, his plan, trusting him for every single step, and then somewhere along the way, I say, I got this. I start making my own plans, depending on people, who, though they are great, will eventually let me down simply because they are human like me.  I cling to my home, my me-time, my team, the people I thought were going to lead the church here. And I melt in sorrow when it all falls apart and when people, those made from dust, let me down.  The melting is due to my own idolatrous heart being broken. But again, the kindness of the Lord leads me to repentance.  He restores my melted soul and makes it whole again.  He graciously teaches me His ways, again. He strengthens me according to His word.  He does not let my heart be put to shame.  He lets me cling to Him, and He enlarges my heart.

In his Morning and Evening devotional Charles Spurgeon said,

Nothing teaches us the preciousness of the Creator, as when we learn the emptiness of all besides. Turning away with bitter scorn from earth's hives, where we find no honey, but many sharp stings, we rejoice in him whose faithful word is sweeter than honey or the honeycomb. In every trouble we should seek to realize God's presence with us. Only let us enjoy His smile, and we can bear our daily cross with a willing heart for his dear sake."

We were made to cling. What are we clinging to? The dust or the Word become flesh. The created or the Creator? If we cling to the dust, we will surely wallow in it.

Friday Favs

Is it 'favs' or 'faves' or should I just write the whole word? F-a-v-o-r-i-t-e-s. Sheesh. That was tough for a Generation Y-er. Here are a few more of our favorite things!!!

Flips or Smoki. These little boogers are magically delicious.  I must confess the first time I tried them, I hated them, but now. OH! So good! They are peanut flavored puffs (like cheese puffs). Most people who come to visit bring a bag of these for each of our kids. Sometimes my kids get to eat them. Sometimes you can find them being devoured by me after the kids go to bed. Nom. Nom.

This is plain, no flavoring, no fruit, no sugar, drinkable yogurt.  And it is NOT one of my favorite things. It's not one of Brian's favorite things. But my kids LOVE it.  I think they picked up their yogurt drinking habit in preschool here, and now, if it is in the house, they want it.  Macedonians drink it with their breakfast, and it supposed to make you super-duper healthy.  

This is not a good picture of one of our most favorite things ever!  Coffee time after church.  When we finish with worship service, we move around the tables and chairs, make coffee and just have a great time of fellowship--for real fellowship.  It is common to see people laying hands on each other and praying together. It is common to hear people talking about the sermon. Burdens are shared. Biblical principles are hashed out. We talk about life. We laugh. Sometimes we cry. We remind one another of the gospel and just enjoy one another before we part ways into the lost city. It's good. Truly, truly good.  

Building massivo forts on rainy days.

OK, another awful shot. But Kate is doing beginning algebra. WHAT?! In the equivalent of American 1st grade? Is this a thing in the states??? I love that she is learning so much and that she totally loves her class and her teacher!

Thomas' little things.  He is just... He is honest. And he loves his brother. I have to believe he would love him chunk or no chunk. But there is definitely more than enough chunk to love.

Every morning, Isaiah crawls up beside his brother.  It's his favorite spot to start the day.

Seeing the google car scooting through town. Yay for Ohrid!

Walking to school. We LOVE walking everywhere.  

Brian loves hiking through villages with good friends.  And my sweet mountain man would move to a village in a heart beat. He LOVES it. 

Grilled meat, in a village, with friends. Another of Brian's favs.

Coffee dates in this beautiful place, with my man and this boy who makes sure he gets every last drop of his whipped cream.

Beautiful Ohrid that sits on God's beautiful creation.  It's a view we never ever tire of.  We are so thankful we have been able to live in such a gorgeous place.

Our Comforter

She was supposed to be getting dressed, but when I rushed past her room on my way to finish getting ready, she was just sitting there with her blonde hair down around her face that was hanging low.  "What's wrong, pretty?" I asked. She burst into tears. Big giant elephant-sized tears streamed down her red face. "My bracelets broke."

She has been rainbow looming like crazy these days and is trying her hardest to make the exact bracelet down to the exact color of rubber bands desired for each of her friends.  She has been working tirelessly.  She had finished two already this morning before church, and she only had a few more to make to reach her "Monday deadline" (What?! My 7 year old has deadlines???). But those two broke...

Thinking I could finish getting ready while she poured out her heart, I called her into the bathroom with me. But her little heart was broken, and it was no time for multi-tasking. Why didn't those bracelets stay together? What did she do wrong?  And why on earth did this have to happen on Sunday morning??? (What is it about Sunday mornings? Does the whole world fall apart in your house on Sunday mornings, too???) I sat down with her on my lap and just held her as she cried... over bracelets... that could be fixed.

Didn't she know there were bigger problems in this world? Didn't she know there were kids who were starving somewhere in the world? It didn't even cross her mind that some little girl somewhere has no toys and has no hope of even a morsel of bread today.  And she didn't think about the little boys in the war zone whose only wish is to go outside and play ball, but they have to play inside for fear of getting hit with shrapnel. Right now, it was colorful rubber band loomed bracelets that had her entire world crashing down. And nothing was going to make it better but to sit in her mommy's lap and cry.

I could have told her about the little ones who have no food today. I could have made her feel guilty about being sad over a bracelet. Instead, I just held her and let her cry. And I thought about how my heavenly Father holds me. He just lets me cry. He knows the immense pain and darkness that the mom down the street is going through, and my burden doesn't even come close to the weight that she has to bear. Her electricity was turned off because even though she goes to work everyday, she hasn't been paid in months.  She has no idea how she is going to bargain with the electric company to turn it back on, much less how on earth she is going to make the one bag of macaroni and small bottle of ketchup stretch all week to feed her family. And I am crying over packing ALL of my stuff up and moving it across the world???

He could make me feel really awful about myself. He could give me a healthy dose of perspective, but He doesn't. He just holds me. He lets me cry. He comforts my heart even though I don't deserve it. He doesn't tell me I am ridiculous. He doesn't even think it. He just lets me pour out my heart.  In his goodness and kindness, in His gentle fatherly love for me, He says, "It's gonna be ok, sweet child. It's gonna be ok. Cast all your cares on me, because I care for you." He says, "Be still and know that I am God. Just that. I am God. Just know that I AM, and I have loved you without fail forever!"

And so maybe I am a little ridiculous to be crying over these minute struggles, but the pain is real. It's just as real as the pain my little girl felt over broken bracelets. And it's all an opportunity to rest in Him, knowing His mighty tender touch and feeling the assurance that it will be ok because He has overcome the world. It's all an opportunity to know Him and His great love for me even better.

And so He holds me and comforts me.

He doesn't have to. But He does anyway!

I love that! Don't you?!

"From the ends of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is higher than I." 
Psalm 61:2 NKJV

"When I thought my foot slips, your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up. When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul."
 Psalm 94:18-19 ESV

Friday Favs

It's been a little heavy around here the last few days. So I thought I would lighten it up a little with some thanks. God has given us SO much to be thankful for. He has given us a love for this place, this people--their culture and their food, and we are blessed beyond measure! Our cup overflows with the fact that He is God! He is good! And He gives good gifts to His children!

"When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad, then I remember my favorite things, and then I don't feel so bad." 

So without further ado, a few of our favorite things:

This girl on a daddy-date drinking salep. 

Salep is a magical drink that we just can't get enough of. YUM!  

How this little mister LOVES his big sister!  My fav!

Мекица (mekitza)!!! 

It's fried dough, kind of like an elephant ear, except these are salty. Our whole family loves them! (We won't talk about the amount of grease that drips off of them.)

Рибна Чорба

Fish soup! The kids and I love fish soup. It is SO yummy, and it is a specialty around here.  Massive chunks of fresh fish in a creamy, yummy broth served with garlic sauce and lemon. Yum! Yum! Yum! Macedonians eat it for a late breakfast, and we love to join them for a big bowl when we can!

Rides with sweet friends in thirty year old cars where seat belts are non-existent. Every day is an adventure, and we love it! And that little boy? He and his family make the favorite list too!

Walks by the lake with the littles.

My kids playing in God's beautiful creation, the villages of Macedonia, with their precious friends. 

Rolling down big grassy hills.  

I remember doing that as a kid, and I love that my kiddos have had that fun experience. (May I also add, I love bathtubs and soap. :))

Yummy mini doughnuts covered in chocolate sauce and powdered sugar and fresh out of the grease. Magical!

These three loving each other!

Time in the Word by the beautiful still waters.  It just doesn't get better than that!

Flowers growing out of people gates creating a gorgeous path.

The Macedonian Cappuccino topped with massive amounts of whipped cream. We also love that they bring little cups of whipped cream for our kiddos.

Little fruit and veggie markets on every single corner. The produce just doesn't get any more fresh than this. A kilo (that's 2.2 pounds, America) of fresh mandarins for less than 50 cents! Amazing!

Пастрмајлија

Pastrimalja (say that 5xs fast) is another Macedonian specialty that we love. Chunks of meat, chicken, pork, or lamb, with some seasonings baked on top of a yummy piece of bread. We love it!

Another one of my favs is knowing and being able to literally feel you precious people praying for me and my family!  Thank you!!! Thank you!!! Thank you!!! 

Joy in Loss

I have lost all of my grandparents to the brevity of life.  Because they knew Jesus as Lord and Savior, they are with Him now. I only met three out of the four of them. Granddaddy went to be with Jesus the year before I was born, but I had the privilege of knowing and deeply loving the other three.  I have such fond memories of each of them.

My Grandma's quiet giggle, her sweet scent, her pretty dresses and skirts (she never wore pants), her gift for making anything out of yarn from gorgeous afghans to Christmas ornaments. I loved playing in her house and in her massive yard full of sticks and leaves and giant rocks that we used to ride on like horses. I loved her old refrigerator. I loved how very tender and gentle she was. I remember the smell of her home and the quiet laughter we had with her every time we visited.  

My PaPa's Donald Duck voice, riding horsey on his knee, the smell of his pipe, his chair, his beautiful garden full of amazing hydrangea bushes and lots of fresh veggies. I loved going for rides in the back of his truck. I loved that he gave the biggest tightest hugs I've ever had in my life, and I loved that as he let go, he stuffed loose change into my hand and said "Don't tell your MaMa." I loved that he always had hard candy to share with everyone!  I loved sitting with him on the porch, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He didn't always have a whole lot to say, but it was always good just to be near him because in his strength, he was so tender and wise. 

My MaMa's sweet smell, her perfect hair and make-up, her love of her "show" and Wheel of Fortune, her ability to get the best and cheapest price for anything. I loved her brunswick stew, mac and cheese, pig-pickin' cake and even her grilled ham and cheese sandwiches. I even loved how she would comment about us needing to loss a few pounds and then offer us a Little Debbie cake. I loved shopping with her and going to water aerobics with her. I loved sitting in her always clean house. I loved hearing her stories about how she and my PaPa had met and fallen in love so many years before.

I loved them each so deeply. They were so influential in my life. They were part of what shaped me as a child. They loved me and I loved them.

I remember getting word that they were gone. Word came about Grandma when I was a young teen-age girl, and it was early in the morning when we got the call. I was there, at the hospital, by his side, when PaPa drew his last breath and I sobbed as MaMa fought to have him brought back. I was half a world away when I heard of MaMa's death and I mourned alone without the closure of a funeral but with the assurance and hope that she was with her Savior.

I remember the funerals, looking over their stillness. Their sweet smells were replaced by smells of bouquets of flowers. People came who loved them and needed to say goodbye. Some people came simply because they knew and wanted to comfort us. I remember crying in the arms of some dear old friends, not because they really even knew my pain, but because they knew and loved me and were there to bear me and my family up as we said goodbye. I remember the flood of memories of each of them as I said goodbye to the possibility of ever making sweet memories with them again. I remember the weight of the pain being so very heavy. But I remember the joy in the mourning. There was confidence surrounding the pain that Grandma, PaPa, and MaMa were with the one who had paid the penalty for their sin. They had seen His face, and there was no more pain, no more tears, no more horrible cancer. They had known him in life and were now, in a very real way, alive together with Him in their bodily death. They aren't sitting up there on a cloud like some imagine (how boring!). They are partying with their King. They are worshipping His majesty! They are singing "Worthy is the Lamb who was slain to take away my sin and the sins of the world!!!" There is joy in the sadness. We don't mourn as those without hope...

I know it seems odd and almost melodramatic to compare the situation we are going through right now with the death of my loved ones, and yet I have little else to compare it to. As things begin to wind down here, I am very much in mourning. There is a pain of loss that is heavy. There is finality in everything, from swimming in the lake, to walking through center, to eating at our favorite pizza place, to gathering around the Lord's Supper with the believers here, to time with sweet dear friends and teammates. Memories of all that we have seen God do here, of all that we have learned, of how we have grown up. Memories of the places where we have seen our children toddle or learn to ride their bikes. Memories of the smells of ajvar and wood-burning stoves. I mourn because I know the reality of ever having a chance to return is slim and goodbye seems final, and I am scared. It was C.S. Lewis who said, "No one ever told me grief felt so like fear." The grasping for things that I can no longer hold terrifies me and breaks me, and I have only to cling to Jesus.

Because of Jesus, I do not mourn as one without hope. I am confident that I am obeying Him, the one who took the nails for me.  I am confident that He is working this for my good, for the good of my husband and my children. I am confident that He is working this for the good of the those who love Him and those who will love Him here in this city.  This closure, this death, doesn't make complete sense to me in my flesh, and it is painful. But Jesus endured immense and brutal pain for me. He carried the cross I should have carried. He bears the scars that were meant for me. He was forsaken by His Father so that I could be accepted by Him. And He is alive today, speaking loudly into my heart, "Step out. It'll be ok. I am with you. Do not be afraid. Abide in ME, not a place you call home, but in Me, and my words will abide in you and I will give you fullness of joy and peace." Words of truth and peace wash over me and I am reminded again, He is alive, my Victor, and He fights for me. I have only be still.

There is also the hope and the great assurance knowing that my grandparents, along with so many others, are part of a great a cloud of witnesses, cheering me on in this fight to step out in obedience. And so even though it hurts, I will look to Jesus who for the joy set before Him....
It is the gospel that turns the mourning into dancing and gives beauty for ashes.  It is Jesus, for Him and through Him...
So for the joy set before me...

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."

Hebrews 12:1 ESV

When the Wind is Real

It was Jesus who had put the disciples in the boat and sent them off. He dismissed the crowds and went to have a prayer retreat with His Father. Later as he came to them on the water, they were afraid.  They couldn't see. It wasn't clear. Was it Jesus or was it a ghost? Jesus assures them, "Take heart it is I. Do not be afraid." Peter, being the bold little rascal that he was, says "Jesus, if it's you, call me, and I will come to you." He was testing even though he had only just heard the voice of his Lord. Jesus graciously assured him, saying, "Come."

And so, Peter did. There was no time to sit around and think about the impossibility of walking on water. No. He had to move. He had heard the voice of his Lord. He got out of the boat, going to his Lord, his teacher, his friend, the one he knew to be the Messiah. His feet hit the water, his faith carried him a few feet and then things got real. He "saw the wind" and started sinking. He was afraid, and his fear trumped his faith.

He had just seen Jesus turn 5 loaves and 2 fish into a feast for 5,000 people. He even walked around picking up the leftovers, probably in awe of what he had just seen. Then on the boat, he heard the voice and saw this caring, hungry-feeding, miracle worker walking on the waves in spite of the wind that had him and his friends beaten. He had his eyes set on Jesus, the author and perfecter of his faith. And he, too, was walking on water. Until he saw the reason to fear. "Jesus, save me." he cried. Jesus, of course, did. He saved him. And as they began to get back into the boat, Jesus cut straight to Peter's heart. "Oh you of little faith. Why did you doubt?" The story ends with the winds ceasing and his disciples worshipping, saying, "Truly, you are the Son of God."

We have those moments, don't we? Moments when we, like Peter, say to Jesus, almost like a dare, "Tell me to come and you better believe I'll do it." We laugh at the impossibility of walking on water because, after all, ours is the God who made that water. We are overcome with love for our King Jesus and we just want to be near him, to obey him, to walk with him. Whatever. Wherever. However.  And so we say big lofty things like "God I love you, and I will sell everything I have. I will rip my kids from their home. I will follow you into the fire, into raging waters, into war-striken countries, into the land with no internet and no electricity (gasp!)." Our hearts leap. "He is worth it!!! Jesus is better!" we say. And then just as our feet catch up with our heart...

It gets real.

We feel the water beneath our feet and it feels terrifying. We see the wind, and all of a sudden our faith isn't enough. Sure, we still believe He is the God of raging waters, and sure, we want to give Him... something. But not everything. Not every practicality. Not every 'sensible' thing that we cling to so tightly. Not our kids and their right to a healthy, happy American-dream home. No. Not comfort in language and cultural acquisition. Not stability. Our faith begins to sink and our heart follows.  I can serve you right here, God. There is a huge need here. Why would I move now? You, the God of peace, wouldn't want me to forsake this place where our family is at peace. No! Surely, I heard you wrong. You didn't say come to me on the water. Nope, cause that's just crazy! It makes no sense." And before we know it, we are caught up in a wave and crumbling beneath the weight of it.

Over the last few months, this story has been replaying over and over in my heart and mind. I have talked with dear friends about how very much I can relate to Peter. I, like Peter, have seen His miracles. I have seen His hand work and move in ways that can only be explained as coming from the Son of God. I have walked along gathering leftovers from the great feast that He has prepared before those He is calling out of darkness.  I have done as he said and have gotten in the boat. I have felt beaten and bruised by the winds of this work, this life, this mission. And then I have heard him out on the waters saying, "Don't be afraid. Take heart. It is I." If it's you Lord, make it clear to me. I think it's you, but just make it clear. Make me sure. Tell me to come to you. I have heard His voice so clearly, and I have stepped out.  I have drawn near to him, but then I saw the fierce wind! All around me. Unescapable and I have begun to sink.

And his voice gently booms once again, "I control the wind, too. So why did you doubt?"

He beckons me come to Him, even still. He lets me hold His hand. He becomes even nearer to me than I had ever known before. He remains faithful to His promise to give me peace. He calms my heart and steadies my feet. He gives grace and restores my faith in Him. And I say without a doubt, "Truly you are the Son of God, the Sovereign Lord, my Lord, and I will trust you with it all." The winds cease and the worship begins, all because He is there, knowing my wicked faithless heart, but promising to remain faithful to me anyway. Through it all, I have grown to know Him a little better. I've learned to recognize His voice a little clearer. I've learned to hold His hand a little tighter, to lean into Him, to trust Him, to let Him lead me from faith to faith.

I still see the wind. It's hasn't ceased, yet. I feel it, and the enemy would have me crumble beneath it as I prepare to forsake comforts and lay down my life and the lives of my kids, once again. I am weaker and more broken-hearted than I have been in a long time, maybe ever. I want to run. But I will stay clenched in his mighty right hand. Ready and willing to obey Him because He is worth it! This process of daily having to get out of the boat, to take up my cross, with the wind in my face, is one of the most painful things I have ever done. But I know I heard His voice, and it is a voice I can trust. That voice may lead me into the waves, but He will be there, refining me, growing me, making me keenly aware of how weak I am, but how very great and good He is. His grace is sufficient. His power made perfect in my weakness. O for grace to trust Him more...

Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus. 

Just to take Him at His Word

Just to rest upon His promise

Just to know, Thus saith the Lord

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him. 

How I've proved Him o're and over.

Jesus, Jesus precious Jesus

O for grace to trust Him more.

I'm so glad that I can trust Him

Precious Savior, Closest Friend

And I know that Thou are with me,

Will be with me till the end.

Jesus, Jesus how I trust Him

How I've proved Him o'er and over.

Jesus, Jesus, Precious Jesus

O for grace to trust Him more.

He's Five

And another one is another year older.  My Super Thomas is lot taller, a little thinner, and looks more like a boy than a baby boy this year. He is smart and witty and the biggest little chatter box you'll ever meet.  The kid's lips never stop moving and that goes for his little feet and legs too.  He moves constantly--until his long eyelashes close tight for sleep when he dreams quiet and still--half-way hanging off the bed, but finally, motionless. All of those little wiggles and jiggles and jabbers and clabbers make me so happy!!!  He is one super energetic kid full of personality. Social graces aren't really his strong suit. If he doesn't love you or trust you, or if he thinks your ears look funny, you will know it, but that makes the "Mom, you have pretty ears." comments just that much sweeter.

This year...

He fought like a champ to learn a new language that sometimes still comes out all mixed up, but he keeps working to get those words to come out in the right order, in the right way with the right accent.  And when all else fails, he just says what needs to be said in English with a Macedonian accent and figures it's your problem if you don't understand him. I am so proud of him for persevering in it because there is nothing easy about learning a new language.

He has finally fallen in love with his school and his teachers. 

He has continued to master the game of golf as much as one can in a country where there is no golf.  

He fell in love with tennis.

He mastered many a puzzle and MarioKart board.

He is a rockstar middle child who is best friends with his older sister and thinks his little brother is hysterical.  

He gets a prize for being the only kid looking at the camera. (Ahem, excuse me sweet little girl touching the cake that almost killed me, please, step away from the princess...) He partied-hardy with his sister and some of his friends from school at his birthday party.

 His cake was a cinch this year--all things boy and super.  Perfect for our Thomas!

On his actual birthday we were in Germany with his grandparents, which was spectacular!

He woke up as a five year old, in Munich, Germany, to a hotel room full of birthday decor.  He loved it, not to mention that across the hall, Grandma and Grandpa had presents to celebrate the day. 

The kids' birthday (and probably Christmas) present was a visit to Legoland in Germany which was a so very fun!!!  We had a blast celebrating our boy who makes us so happy every day!

Thomas, I love your stinkin' guts!!!  You are my sweet boy and I love spending my days being your mommy.  You are fearfully and wonderfully made.  God has numbered your days and his thoughts toward you are more in number than the sand. He loves you! You are smart, thoughtful, kind, funny, athletic and full of personality!  You have so many great traits and I pray that you will know that every good thing you have is from God. Son, there is much that I know you will be able to achieve in this life, but I pray that, more than anything, you will gain Christ and be found in Him, that you will have righteousness that comes through faith in Christ--that you will know Him and the power of his resurrection. He died to make you his own.  I pray that you will love him with your whole heart and abide in Him, and that from that love, obedience to Him will flow freely and happily. I LOVE YOU, baby boy! Happy 5th Birthday!

Seven

Our girl is now SEVEN! And just like last year, I can't hardly believe another year has passed with this beautiful sweet little thing, and I am so thankful for every single solitary day we have had together!  

We started the day off with birthday pancakes, just like always.

And I fought back tears as I thought about how fast the time has gone by.  Time flies when you are having fun, and it has been seven years of LOTS of fun with our girl.  

This year, she proved herself as the best big sister ever.

She learned and became immensely fluent in a second language.

She learned to ride on roller-blades and a bike with just two wheels.

She lost 6 teeth.

She told me she wanted to be a mommy (and also an artist) when she grows up. 

She fell in love with two princesses from Arendale and practiced singing like them constantly.

She conquered tons of kids' novels this summer.

She began to pray for her friends to know Jesus.

She learned even more scripture and sat and read her Bible all by herself a lot.

She believed on Jesus as her Savior and Lord and became a child of God!!!!!!

This year she chose the hardest cake ever.  I know I did a cake very similar to this last year, and I am not sure what the difference is, but this one had every cake-mishap possible. It was too short for Elsa and Ana's long model-like legs. So I added MORE layers to the bottom.  Then the cake cracked when the Long-Legged Queen and her spunky sister were pushed inside. The frosting wouldn't set, and when it did, it cracked too.  Half of my piping tools were missing (ISAIAH!). I could go on. It was tough, and I almost threw the whole darn thing in the trash and went to buy a cake that didn't have Arendale Princesses stuck inside it. But I stuck it out cause this is what my Kate wanted, and I tried not to compare it to the labor pains I felt 7 years ago... At least seven years ago, there was an epidural     a perfect beautiful little girl that I could keep forever (right?!).... Kate loved the cake and her friends all oh-ed and ah-ed over it. So I guess despite almost losing my religion over a cake, it was worth it.

On Thursday we had a Macedonian style birthday party for both Kate and Thomas, whose birthday is next week. 

We partied like wild thangs with all bagillion of her and Thomas' friends from school. We heard "May she grow big!" and "May her years be many!" from every parent who dropped off their kids. May they, indeed.

The cake ceremony was complete with three renditions of 'Happy Birthday' in two different languages, and one kid even busted out a solo. Awesome!

Our happy little family!

  We are officially partied out. Thomas' cake has been laid to rest and the other will be, wait for it... Frozen.

Kate, I am so very proud to be your mommy. I love you more than you will ever know. I am so thankful that you love Jesus and that you want to follow him.  Keep pressing into Him and He will always care for you. He will guard your heart and mind. He will give you fullness of joy and peace that passes all understanding. He is the lover of your soul. He knows you inside and out and loves every part of you. My prayer for you is that you continue to grow in the knowledge of him and, in turn, more in love with him. I pray that you will abide in him and trust him in all things. He holds your lot. Indeed you have a beautiful inheritance in Christ. He will not abandon you. He will make known to you the path of life. In His presence is fullness of joy; at His right hand are pleasures forever more. May you see it. May you taste it. There is NOTHING better! I love you with all my heart!  

Happy Seventh!!!