Christmas Past, Snow and New Years

Christmas came and went. It was beautiful and wonderful and all that Christmas should be. There was singing and praising God. There was the reading of the Christmas story. There was yummy food to celebrate the birthday of a King. There were gifts. There was family. And while extended family was through a webcam and a computer screen, they were here, with us. And we are thankful. 

Christmas was modest, to say the least. We never do a whole lot, but this year we went overboard on the "not a whole lot." When you have to pack everything you own into 3 cubic meters and 10 suitcases, there is no room (pun intended) for extravagant gifts. This year we decided to give the gift of Macedonia. The kids each got a t-shirt and a couple of small souvenir type things from our beloved Macedonia.  We got them each a shirt for now and a shirt that they can wear when they are grown. They loved everything--proof that Christmas doesn't have to mean boo-koos of stuff. 

Some of our closest friends came to visit and stay a couple of nights with their kids. It was a blast. My heart is full at the thought of how much love there is between our two families. They are so very precious to us and we are going to miss them so very much!!!

Matchy. Matchy. 

After 8 years, this is our first and only picture of these two together. 

This girl. Love! Love! Love!!!

We love their babies too.  Our kids are such great friends!

And it snowed. And I stood on the balcony and cried cause where we are going there will be no snow and I love snow. It was so beautiful!!! I snuck the kids outside in their pjs to catch snowflakes in their mouths because, really, who knows when we will get to do that again?! It was magical!

And then came one of the greatest and sweetest things that has ever happened to us in Macedonia. Kate's class threw her a going-away party at a little play-place. 

This was hanging from the ceiling--pictures of her and her friends through the last two years. Here, you stay with the same group of kids and even the same teacher from first grade through 5th grade. So this is a tight-knit group. 

We had so much fun and are so beyond grateful for the work and love that was put into this party for our Kate. She was so surprised and so happy!

Kate leading the conga-line. Yeh, they know how to party around here. 

Thomas and Isaiah just eating chips and watching the conga-line pass them by. They got into the fun a little later.

All of her classmates wrote her a note to let her know they are going to miss her and why. Uff! So sweet!!! She has read them over and over.

And as if things couldn't get any better, lo and behold, it started snowing again, and it snowed and snowed!!! So magical.

And we played.

And body-sledded. (It's a thing.)

And made snow-angels. 

And threw massive snowballs. 

And built a snowman.

And helped the neighbors shovel snow.

And made snow-cream. YUM!

And bundled up so warm!

We lost power, but even that was kind of fun... for a little while. We all camped out in the living room and cuddled under tons of blankets. I had already given all of our candles away (irony) and all the candles in town were sold out because the whole town and all the neighboring villages were without power. There were no candles, no bread and no milk in the city. Being an NC girl, I had to laugh because I always wondered why people always bought bread and milk at the first threat of a snow-storm. Now, I know.

Kate's New Year's program went on despite the inclement weather. Look at all those little cuties ready to sing their hearts out.  

Kate is the second from the left.

And then friends came to help us ring in the New Year. We ate! Oh! We ate! And we danced the Oro around our living room. And we laughed and played and danced some more.  It was a sweet time with sweet friends.

So here's to 2015. God has given us so much. I have no doubt that this year will hold its fair share of trouble, because "in this world you will have trouble" but take heart He has overcome the world. He goes before us, with us, in us. He has given us abundantly more than we could ever begin to ask. His mercies will be as new tomorrow as they were today. So trouble there may be, but there will also be good--so much good. And so we walk into the new year, into tomorrow, with grateful hearts and eyes fixed on Jesus who promises He works it all for our good and His outshining glory.  

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.

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