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!!!

Thankful for the Body

Just as the hand doesn't hear or see from the elbow all that often, they are joined together, working to carry the baby, or wash the dishes, or any other number of things. The Body works together sometimes completely unaware of how it all comes together to support and bear the weight of the rest of the Body. Knit together. Functioning at its best, together. We have seen this very thing play out in front of our eyes many times over the years. And if you are at all familiar with this blog, you have heard me ramble on and on about how much I love the Body of Christ and about how very grateful I am for it. I can't get over it. It's kind of amazing! I am most thankful for the head, who is Christ, who moves in and through the members to cause them to hold up one another, loving one another and bearing with one another for His great Name's sake. This used to be a great mystery to me, but this week, it became even less of a mystery and more of a reality to me. And it is one mystery for which I am so thankful and by which I am overwhelmed with love for my Lord and the members of His body.  

Less than 48 hours ago, we put a volunteer team from our home church, the Summit in RDU, in a taxi to head back to their homes.  We had a phenomenal week with them in which we felt loved on and encouraged.  We partnered with them to love on the people of this town with servant hearts in acts of kindness.  At the beginning of the week, they led a seminar to encourage our small group to have a servant's heart, a heart like Jesus, and to branch out in their community to meet needs around them.  And then they spent the rest of their week living out the words of that seminar, that were basically just words from scripture.  Here's where it gets great (as if that wasn't great enough), the Lord, in His goodness, used the work of four different churches, three of whom weren't even here physically, to meet some needs and partner together with us this week--and none of them know one another or planned these things.... But God did!  

A church in Nevada, full of people we've never met, contacted us and asked what they could send to support us. Praying about it, I requested that they send school supplies to be given to kids here, and they did. 

Yay! School supplies!!! AND American CHOCOLATE!

So with our family and this team from the Summit, we packaged them up to be ready to hand out to kids here. Summit brought more candy and school supplies to add to these bags and along with handmade dolls from another church in NC, we headed to one of the hospitals in town to hand them all out to the kiddos who are there for long periods of time.  

After that we headed to the schools to help teach English and give out pencils, some other school supplies and CANDY!  We had a blast teaching the kids some English songs and helping them all practice the English they already know.  The local news did a story on us in the schools that you can see HERE. (Once in the link, scroll down to see a slideshow of pictures they took of us interacting with the sweet kids.) 

The group also helped hand out the final seed packets.  They loved on some of our closest friends with gifts and time in their homes. They loved on our small group by teaching them about being compelled by the love of Jesus and then modeling it for them. They loved on us, as they brought us awesome gifts from the states!

Gifts included, but were certainly not limited to, Anna (from Frozen) Captain America and one of the coolest bouncy balls ever. The kids were thrilled! So thankful! 

On Friday night, while the guys played chess with some friends and watched the kids, the ladies helped me do a women's event. A lady (again, that I've never met) gave my mom a TON of Mary Kay samples. Mom sent them, and after they sat in Brian's office for a couple of months, the Lord opened up a door for us to use them to have a make-up night as one of the women on the Summit team had an understanding of what to do with all the make-up. Her mom used to sell the stuff! And yes, that is most definitely a God-thing, cause had it been left up to me... those poor women....  

We had a great crowd and lots of fun. The ladies LOVED the make-up, heard the good news of Jesus' love for them and many walked away with their first Bible and the knowledge of how to have a relationship with Him, their Creator--who makes all things beautiful.

Such an amazing week!!!

And two days after the dust settles, I still sit in awe of the goodness of our great God who is sovereign over EVERYthing, even Mary Kay make-up. No one knew how God was going to use those dolls that were sent, or the school supplies, or the make-up. I couldn't have told you even a week ago how it was all going to play out and work together for His glory. But He did. 

He knew about the mom I would meet in the hospital who would give me her phone number and take a Bible, promising to read it, and He led a lady, over 5 years ago, in NC, to sit and make over 100 cloth dolls. 

He knew that those school supplies would be a blessing to little boys and girls sitting in a hospital as well as in the schools here, and He led a church in Nevada to collect them and ship them our way.  

He knew make-up would draw 11 new women (+ 9 others) into our coffee house to hear the news of Jesus and He even ordained a girl, from NC, who knew what to do with all that make-up be here to lead that night.

And what's more, He knew my son would be head over heels in love with an apron, yes, an apron, because it has golf clubs on it. So he had a lady make one for him and his daddy. 

Their new aprons that they couldn't be more excited about! Don't they look studly!

He knew the look my kids would make when they got new toys from America. 

He knew the week would be exhausting but full of opportunities and so he called many of you out to pray for the team, for the week, for the work. You prayed for strength and for His word to go forth and your prayers were answered. 

He knew! And He ordained it all! WOW! What a great God we serve!!! 

Y'all, He gives good gifts to His children. Do you see it? He works in and through His Body of Believers to bless, support, encourage and further His work on this earth. Man, I can't wait until heaven when we will all be together around his throne praising Him for letting us, different parts of His Body, be a part of this, His work. Until then, though, I'm gonna praise Him with a grateful heart for how I've seen His hand move in the big and small things this last week and through the years! 

Praise His Name!

A Macedonian Taste of Fall

Some of you, ok one of you (but I know more of you are dying to know), asked what the picture of the jar of ajvar was that I put on fb.  Ajvar is the taste of Macedonia in the fall.  It is what you smell as you turn every corner around town.  Smoke billows from giant wood burning outdoor stoves as the Macedonians char their crops of red peppers on it. Kilos and kilos of red peppers are seared on all sides. Then they peel the peppers, grind the peppers and throw the peppers in a big pot to boil with some seasonings. And then you get ajvar--jars and jars of ajvar that are made in nearly every home to eat all throughout the winter months. 

This stuff! with some white feta-like cheese, called sirenje, as it's accompaniment. So SO YUM!

It's a staple in every Macedonian diet. And I guess like some in America would judge the arrival of fall by the pumpkin spice latte's return, it's not fall in Macedonia until red peppers are roasted and boiled down into this yummy paste. And while I don't love everyone's ajvar, our neighbor makes what I am sure to be the best ajvar in the country. Slather a big scoop of it on some bread--not WonderBread, but real actual fresh baked bread that will go bad if you don't eat in 24 hours, cut a piece of fresh sirenje, and you have a traditional Macedonian meal that is magically delicious!

And for a little TBT (throw-back Thursday) here are some more blogs on the deliciousness of ajvar and how it's made and Macedonia in the fall. Enjoy a pumpkin spice latte for me while you read about our little Macedonian world in the fall.

They Saw Beyond the Landmarks

Sunday, we met a couple that is new to Ohrid, Americans, CPers for the last 30 years in Mexico, and they think God may be calling them here. They spent a little time in Italy working on visa stuff before continuing on to Macedonia where they knew God was leading them to at least explore. They joined us for worship and then we took them for lunch.

After enjoying our meal, telling them about the city and hearing their heart, they said a profound thing--a thing that I think most people living in America don't realize, the thing I think the church in America needs to hear. They said, "We have worked in a very poor part of the world where people would never want to vacation.  Living there was hard. Since we've been here we keep thinking, living here will be easy, but there is such a spiritual darkness here. You can feel it.  Europe is a Godless place, and you can feel the darkness."

Yes. Easy to live. Mostly comfortable. No mud hut in the middle of a nowhere village with generators as your only source of electricity. WiFi is everywhere. The bathroom situation--well, it's not all that dramatic--most of the time. It's gorgeous. Even if you don't live in a city that is gorgeous, there is one just an hour or two away.  There is little to no threat of war in most places (or so that used to be). Alps and beautiful mountain ranges everywhere. Gorgeous beaches line its coastline. 1000 year old churches. Architecture with personality. Cobblestone streets. Beauty everywhere.

But It. Is. Hard. If you are in anyway walking in the light of salvation, you can feel the darkness. You can see the darkness everywhere. People are hard and cold. People are hopeless and broken. They are taught to not feel--or not to show their feelings. It's shame. It's only expected that the man of the house is looking at porn and most likely committing adultery left and right. Women are going on depression meds in exponential numbers. College educated men are driving taxis or sitting at home because there are no jobs. There is brokenness at every turn. The religious leaders only want their money. The saints they pray to can't hear their prayers. The candle they lit can't make them feel better.  The motion they made over their chest in the form of a cross is only a hope for some kind of good luck. "As long as you believe in something" they will say, while they really don't believe in anything.  They will proclaim themselves atheists as they drive by the church and cross themselves "for good health."

And so what our new friend said wasn't something that I had forgotten. It wasn't news to me. I live comfortably in a dark and broken land every day. What made it so profound to me was that she had only been here a few days, and she knew it. She felt it. She saw it everywhere and in everything. The lack of light. The need for hope. The need for God. And I thought, I wonder how many American Christians do their European vacations and miss it. They see a pretty church and think about the amazing church history here, but they don't open their eyes to see. They don't let their hearts feel that the history doesn't matter if the effects of it have died.

So when you plan your vacations on pinterest and save your pennies to go see Notre Dame, pray that God will do a mighty work in and throughout Europe again--one so mighty and so powerful that the enemy will not be able to hold it.  Pray that the hard concrete hearts of Europeans will be broken over their sin only to find joy and healing at the cross. Pray that they will be saved in mass numbers, that the believers will bear much fruit and that the glory of God in this part of the world will be displayed for the rest of the world to see.

For more info on work in Europe visit: Look Beyond the Landmarks or IMB Europe

A Little Poem

Almost everyday, Kate has a new poem to learn for school. This week, Macedonia celebrated its 23rd birthday, and so one of the poems this week is all about their country of birth or "Father Land".

(Thomas is waving the Macedonian flag he made at school this week, and while he looks less than thrilled, he really was quite excited to be waving his flag.) 

Technically this isn't Kate's 'father land,' but she was born here. We brought her home from the hospital in this very country. She took her first steps here. She said her first words here. She learned Macedonian right along with English. She learned how to ride her bike on two wheels on these streets right outside. This has been the only home she has ever known. Our beautiful Ohrid is the only home any of our kids have known. We love Macedonia and we are so very thankful for every moment we have had here.

The words of the poem are

The Picture of the Father Land

The picture of the school. 

The picture of the park. 

The picture of the birds.

 The picture of the air.

 The picture of the heart, the soul, 

happiness.

The picture of love is the picture of the father land.

Sweet, right?!  I can't help thinking of heaven. We live for the land to come, the home that Jesus is preparing for us in His Father's house. But here and now, the picture of those birds and the park and the heart and soul and happiness: it all points to Jesus. The picture of love: it IS Jesus. The land that we love so much here on earth can't begin to compare with what awaits us in eternity. We were made for more! And so, I remind myself of that, of Jesus, of His great love for us. And while I'm here, I will strive to tell everyone I can of that heavenly home where they, too, are welcome because they are so deeply loved by the Father. Oh that those around us would just taste and see the picture of His heart, His soul. There is happiness--joy and pleasures forevermore. Oh that they would see the picture of His great love!

Risk It All

This video is one of those that I could watch 100 times and it would still send a chill up my spine. It would still make the hairs on my arms stand up. It would still make me want to Risk. It. All.
Risking it all and following Jesus - A Future City - David Platt from IMB on Vimeo.

I understand that we can get really wrapped up in emotion and feelings, experiences and the hype that comes with them. We can have those "youth camp experiences" and go back to complacency and our 'spiritual formalism' tomorrow. And then, we can get wrapped up in the day to day mundane. There is nothing wrong with the day to day. Let's face it, there has to be some sort of daily grind to pay bills, to feed our kids, to educate them in the gospel. Shoot, somebody's got to clothe, feed, and teach these little rascals to read and write. And it is good and honorable to do these things. But y'all, if the Word of God doesn't move you, if the gospel isn't moving you to do more than the mundane, to step up and out of your comfort zone, to attempt some big fat out-of-our-mind-things for the one who left His throne to DIE for us, then maybe we need to re-examine our days, our hearts. That doesn't mean the same thing for all of us. I get that. But our God is the God of the nations, and His love for the nations should compel us to love the nations like He does. He is deserving of the worship of people from every tribe and tongue and people and nation, and it is time we stop fighting over styles of worship music and colors of carpet and start falling on our faces in worship on that very carpet to beg God to move in mighty ways among the nations. And then to offer ourselves, our bank accounts, our very lives as tools in God's hands.  He wants us to be a part of it.  We have been given much, church, let's be faithful in using it to advance the Kingdom of God in our homes, in our hometowns, and around the world.  Let's not let the excitement that we feel when we watch a video like this one dwindle into complacency by bedtime. Let's risk it all!!!

Summer Ends, School Begins (Kind of)

I just love the beginning of school. I love school supplies, lunch boxes, new shoes, sharpening pencils, packing backpacks, and the excitement of a new beginning. Yep, I am a nerd. Yesterday was the official end of the summer lazy days, and I am happy happy happy!  Summer is fun and long-awaited come May, but really, I need some form of structure and try as I may have, it just didn't happen this summer.

We tried to take last week and do a few things to end the summer with a bang.  In lieu of driving 3 hours to the nearest water park, we decided to just take the kids to the beach here that has a water slide and a dock to jump off of.  So fun!

Muscle Beach-- Davis Family Tradition

This kid seriously loves the water. He is also, by far the most dressed child at the beach.  We get all the stares cause our children wear bathing suits (most children run around the beach naked here), and Isaiah is almost completely covered cause we are all informed about skin cancer and terrified that if we don't cover every inch of him we have doomed him.  We don't try and explain that to the people who ask us why our baby is wearing a shirt, why he is wearing a bathing suit that almost comes to his ankles and why we lather our children up immensely with copious amounts of sunscreen. We just smile and say, "Oh, he's American." and that seems to be an ok answer for their inquiring minds. 

Out in the middle of the lake on a paddle boat.  Gorgeous!

You see their feet? The water is so clean and beautiful! Cold as ice, but bearable on a hot summer's day.

Brian tried to teach the kids how to do a cannon ball, which really just meant lots of entertainment for the Macedonians on the beach. :)

The day after our big beach day, we took the kids to the middle of nowhere on top of a mountain for a one-night camping trip.  Camping is one of those things Brian and I both did growing up, and we wanted the kids to have the joy of sitting around a campfire, roasting marshmallows, dodging spiders,  and sleeping on an air-mattress that deflates through the night leaving your bones grinding into the hard ground at 3 'o clock in the morning.  We were the only people for miles... well, other than a shepherd and one fellow riding through the fields looking for cows.  That's right ladies and gentlemen, there is no need to be afraid of bears or mountain lions, but you better watch out for the wild cows.  Truth be told, I think the sheep-herding dogs are some of the most ferocious animals I have ever seen. So other than one (ridiculous) encounter Brian threw himself into, we stayed as far away from the sheep as we could.

Wide open spaces and clean air made for one amazingly relaxing get-away. Isaiah was in heaven.

The boys loved the fire.  

We had a stash of marshmallows from the states. So we enjoyed boo-koos of s'mores. We even had s'mores for dessert after breakfast the next morning. Nutrients galore.

Yum!

Hiking with daddy.  

Hide and seek in the woods. 

We all had so much fun, but alas, the summer has come to an end (Amen!). School started back yesterday.  I love and hate the first day of school here. I love it cause it is the first day of school. I hate it because it is basically just open-house. The kids go for an hour the first day, get their supply list, say hey to everyone and come back home.  So today, we walked Kate to second grade (American 1st grade) to stay for an hour and a half. Ugh! Enough of this easing them in, already. Let's do this thing. Kate is ready to get started full-time. The child is ready for homework and book reports and science projects.

Thomas getting ready to go into his school for the beginning of his last year of preschool. What?! He was super brave walking into his school this year. Answered prayer!

Our cutie little Kate.  She had her back-pack all ready and was super disappointed they didn't get any books and that she didn't get to break in her new pencils on the first day.

Three beautiful babies!!!

Because of overcrowding, Kate's school runs on shifts.  For two weeks, she goes from 8-12 and for two weeks, she goes from 2-6. Second shift is my least favorite thing ever! Just when the day is starting to wind down into nap and then dinner, we are sending Kate to school. I suppose it is nice to get to sleep in for two weeks, though. So, we will just be really thankful for that! :) And maybe tomorrow she will go to school for more than an hour and a half. Here's hoping school really starts tomorrow! :)

1st Haircut

I don't think I documented the first haircuts of the two eldest.  And really I should have. I mean, Kate went 5 and 1/2 years without a haircut--there was no hair to cut... Not. A. One.

Bless.

So, her first haircut should've been a monumental thing with photographers and fireworks and all kinds of pomp and circumstance.  But ya'll, I was just terrified they were going to cut her back to bald, which wouldn't have taken much. So, no. I didn't take a single picture as I was busy guarding her five pieces of hair.  Thomas' first 5 haircuts, before Kate's first, caused us to downplay them as much as possible.  Poor Kate wanted to be Rapunzel. She wanted bows that weren't pasted to her head, and the girl wanted to get her hair did. (And this momma wanted people to stop making comments about her lack of hair in front of her. She can understand you people! Ugh!) So we downplayed the cutting of Thomas' fast growing mop. And now, nearing her 7th year, she has had... wait for it... TWO! Count 'em! TWO haircuts! What! What!  She can wear beautiful bows without paste, and some days her hair even cooperates enough for a ponytail.  Her littlest brother, with hair as white as hers and as full as Thomas', got his first haircut last week.  He screamed through the whole thing but his two pro-haircut-getter siblings stood by him in support, for a little while anyway.

The sweet old man did the best he could with a squirmy, sca-reaming baby.

We started with a beautiful purple cover, but Isaiah wasn't having it. Perhaps, the purple just wasn't macho enough for him. Thomas and Kate quickly lost interest and became involved in their own needs and wants. "I'm hungry. I'm thirsty. I want ice cream. You said we could have ice cream. I want it now. When can we go home? I want to go home. Isn't this life all about me?" all while Isaiah continued to scream. Deep breaths everyone cause we are on display. This guy from "the cousin faith" is watching, listening. This guy needs to see a picture of love and grace, and so. do. my. children... 

Brian's barber did a great job. He has now met the whole family and seen us at our worst. Oy. And so we have a leg to stand on when we talk about being saved from our sin nature, and maybe he will begin to yield a listening ear to all that Brian has been telling him about Jesus, the Lord of all who doesn't ask us for perfection. He knows we can't do it. He just asks us to trust in his finished work, his grace that saves to the uttermost--even stressful haircut days with whiney uncooperative children. Yep, even there.

Look at that little stud and his new doo. 

His first haircut will go down in history as yet another lesson that my kids can go from sweet and supportive to flat-out mad-crazy selfish beasts in less than half a second and that I seriously need to work on a patient tone of voice that doesn't sound like something from "The Walking Dead." And well, of course the day isn't a complete loss, cause we learned even more about grace. Ha. Bless us all.

When you Completely Ignore the Opportunity

After a week of coughing and sniffling, cleaning up the effects of the stomach virus, and riding out the wretched virus myself, I was beat. It took everything I had to get to our Sunday morning worship. Weak, tired and still a little nauseous I got the kids dressed, helped my ailing husband lock-up the house and latch the children in the car and off to church we went.  By the time I got to church, the three minute car ride had my stomach whirling. I got the kids inside the church building and walked across the street with the smallest Davis to get some sort of soda in hopes of it soothing my stomach.  As I walked in I saw two very familiar faces--the guy who owns the shop, knows my story, and currently wants nothing to do with it --and the other, one of the people who lives on the street of our coffee house/church building. I said the usual, "Dobar Den." "Good day.", and really hoped that would be the end of the conversation. I didn't feel like saying another word.  I heard every word of their conversation, though, as I walked to the back of the tiny store to grab a Fanta. I didn't know what or whom exactly they were talking about, but there was camaraderie in their banter. They agreed. They were on the same side. And the side they came down on was that everyone "messes up." Everyone! No one is perfect. No one has ever been perfect. No one!

If there was ever a moment when Jesus could have entered the conversation it was right then. He could have walked in and said, "I was perfect. I am perfect. And I love you--all of you with all of your imperfections, your mess-ups, your sins, I love you. And I want to make you holy as I am holy. I died for you while you were still dead in your sin, and I want to make you alive in Me. I want you to know me and be found in me. I took all of your mess-ups, your sins, on the cross. Nails were beaten into my hands and feet and a crown of thorns was pressed into my brow. And with every drop of my blood, I covered your sins. I will bring you to life through the power of my resurrection. Just repent of your sins, believe in me as Lord, and your faith will make you well."

Did He want to use me to say those beautiful true words to them? Did he want me to speak up and speak love, grace, hope into their conversation? Of course. Did I obey him and make the most of the very obvious opportunity before me? Nope. I paid for my drink, agreed with the lady when she looked at me and said, "We all mess up. We're all sinners, right?", said, "Ciao." and walked out.

I.Walked.Out. I left two people who were hopelessly saying 'mankind is a bunch of screw-ups and we are included in that and, well, what are we gonna do about it?' to figure it out on their own.  I HAVE THE ANSWER and I walked out in silence.

I could make excuses.  In fact, all afternoon and even through the darkest part of the night, I made some pretty good points to that gnawing conviction in my stomach. I was feeling nauseous. Church was about to start. I had a very ill baby in my arms. I was ill. I had no energy to engage. They have heard me talk about Jesus before. They already know. 

Those excuses didn't make me feel better. I knew what I should've done. I knew I failed. I knew I had only thought of myself at that moment.

And so what do you do when you know you should've said something and you just didn't? What do you do when you feel guilty for not taking the opportunity that God put in your lap to share of His powerful redeeming love?

Confess to the giver of the Good News that you messed up. He is faithful and just to forgive us all of our unrighteousness. He is kind to lead us to repentance.  Let him deal with your selfish heart like a gentle Father with his child. But oh! rest in the grace that your debt has been paid in full. His burden is light. He did not save you to wallow in the guilt of your filthy rags. No. He saved you to depend on the fullness of His awesomeness. His goodness. His righteousness. So humbly come before him, and say, "I'm sorry. I sinned. Forgive me." And as He promises, He will. Fellowship restored. Peace acquired.

Remember that He is pursuing those individuals that you may have passed over. He hasn't passed them over yet. Proof: they are having conversations about the failures of mankind.  They hate it, and they want more. They are searching for better. They are searching for good.  It is His goodness that has caused them to begin to see this. He is after their hearts like a passionate lover because, my goodness, He loves them passionately! Trust in His unfailing love and sovereignty, not just over you, but also over the lost around you.

Ask God for another chance to share with these people you ignored. Look for that chance prayerfully, expectantly and readily. I believe he will be faithful to grant that request.

Be ready... for the next time. Always be prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that it is you.

I failed miserably on Sunday, but I know that I am still accepted and loved by my Lord and Savior. I know that He is still pursuing the people here regardless of my failures. I am sure His grace is sufficient to let me keep on telling His story of how He brings people from darkness into His marvelous light.

I write this to set as a remembrance of the time I could've, of the time I should've, and pray that next time, by His grace, I will be faithful to answer those who are lost and undone with words of hope and healing.  No excuses. No regrets. By His grace...

Summer Concerts

We get pretty excited around here when we see believers and churches getting all wrapped up in Matthew 28:19-20. And we are thrilled when we see Balkan believers getting fired up about telling people the story of Jesus. Like squealing and shrilling thrilled!!!  It's big, y'all! This week a team of 8 believers from Croatia, who are members of a band called, Adonai, came to Macedonia to use their talents for the glory of God--to make His name famous here and around the Balkans.  

They preformed two concerts in Ohrid, one Friday night and one Saturday night. Between the two concerts, we were able to hand 250 New Testaments and have a lot of gospel-centered conversations with a few of the hundreds of people who stopped in to listen.

The concert was in the center square of our city--exactly where you want to be in the summer. YAY! Thomas hung out at the foot of the statue during set-up. 

Set up and warm up

Pretty cool location, uh?

The concerts were amazing.  They are so very talented and drew a huge crowd. The first night we were able to have a table for New Testaments set up to give out to people. The second night, we were told we couldn't do that, but we were still able to give out lots of New Testaments just by walking around handing them to people.

If you look close, you can see Thomas, Kate, and two of their best friends standing up front.  

The group joined us for church Sunday morning and did a great job of leading us in worship. So good, y'all!!!  It was such a privilege to get to know them and partner with them in reaching this neck of the Balkans with the good news of Jesus. Sunday night, they headed to Struga, the town right next door. They will be in a different city of Macedonia for the next couple of nights this week. I've already heard reports that last night went great with lots more Bibles handed out and lots more gospel-conversations had.  So thankful!!!  God is SO good and SO kind!  Pray for them this week as they boldly proclaim Christ as Savior and Lord through music and personal testimony.

Summer

It is a blast getting to live in Ohrid in the summer. Granted there are days when I could do without the traffic, lack of parking and crowds, but we mostly love Ohrid in the summer (and every other season). What with kite-flying on a breezy beach and the amazing (cheap) produce that fills the corner mini-markets, how could you not like it?!  We have had our fair share of adventures this summer. There have been x-rays, stitches, lots of skinned knees and elbows, beach days, road-trips, long walks with friends, and lots of cold coffees. 

Kate finished school in June and did amazing.  

I am so thankful for how the Lord blessed her with tons of friends, a great teacher and the ability to learn and thrive in her second language. She did great, and we are so proud of her.

The teachers take a couple of weeks to prepare the report cards after school has let out. It is basically a paragraph on how she did in each subject and there were only positive words to describe her achievements.  So proud!

We let her have a sleep over with some of her best friends from school.  They watched Frozen and danced and played Barbies and giggled like little girls are supposed to.  My favorite part was listening to all of them sing "Let it Go" at the top of their lungs in English with their cute Macedonian accents. 

We have been able to take lots of days at the beach with friends.  It's where the people are so we might as well be there too. :) 

And yes, there have been days when the children have literally been climbing the walls. 

Brian was able to do the Legion run with some friends down in Greece. We are still digging out splinters from that adventure, but he had a blast.

Lots of bike-riding around the neighborhood.

The neighbors love watching Isaiah toddle by.  He stops in people's yards and says hi, waves goodbye and keeps on going to see who he can meet next.  

Brian and I celebrated our 10 years anniversary (finally) in Venice without the children (can I get an Amen!)! It was unbelievably good! So thankful for cheap airfare, tax returns, and amazing friends who we can trust to keep our babies so we can relax and just enjoy one another!!!

Tasting the local produce is always a summer time favorite.  

There is Isaiah taking a bite out of a delicious Ohrid tomato. Yum!

And the summer art projects are always fun. Who needs paper when you have perfectly good skin to draw on?!

We took a trip up to Skopje (our little American get-away) and saw a movie, went bowling and did some shopping (YAY!) AND ate Burger King and Dominoes. Yum!  (No judgement! We eat stuff over here that we wouldn't normally eat in the states just because it's American, and it is amazing after you have been without American burgers and pizza for a while.:))

The summer allows for long afternoon naps because it is just too hot to do much else.  Most people eat lunch and take a rest from 4-6.  We have joined in on the 4-6 rest this year.  It's my favorite time of day. :)  Once we rise from nap, we get ready and head outside to hang with the neighbors who are out with their kids in the street, or we meet friends for a walk by the lake in the cool evening air.  

We have had the opportunity to get to know one particular family even better this summer. Conversations and intentional time spent with them is beginning to bear fruit, and we are so thrilled to see the Lord opening their eyes to his love and their need for him.  After months of prayer, this summer afforded them the time for Brian to study the Bible with them for the first time. We are so thankful! Like always we can see the enemy trying to destroy their desire to learn about the Lord--to convince them their traditions and vain religious practices are enough, and so we ask that you pray for them to be hungry for more of the Word, to be convicted of their sin, and to turn to Him for salvation. 

There are only a couple more weeks of these dog-days.  So we are off to enjoy them.