How can i put it into words

I haven’t submitted anything to this page for some time now, though I must say it is not due to lack of activities and incredible moments. In the past month I have run the streets of Moscow, cooked shashlik in the park, played soccer through the woods, screamed with the Spartak soccer fans in Moscow’s stadium, enjoyed spring time in all its glory, rode through the city in a limosine, toasted in Red Square, and fist pumped at the concert of a popular Russian band. I have taken two over night trains to St. Petersburg and back, walked the same paths as Russian Zars, dipped my hand into the bay of Finland, partied all night in the alleys of Petrovska-Razumovksaya, cheered on Russia at their Victory Day parade, and watched the twilight fireworks from the roof of a twenty two story building. To say the very least, my time has been one chain of amazing events that should certainly be worthy of many blogs. I am not sure why I haven’t been motivated to write about it. Perhaps it is due to a small disconnect with home, and a profound contentment with everyday life in Russia.

You see, my blog page started as a way to record my Russian adventures; adventures that were outside of the norm for me. Somewhere along the way, though, all of my activities began to become normal day life. At that point I think it became weird to blog about that (though I know people do it all the time) and there went my motivation. Russia no longer felt like a story I needed to share, and instead had become my life.  Of course it may have just been because I got lazy. I’m going with the first explanation though. Another setback in journaling has been the sheer inability to do so. Successfully conforming such a dimensional experience to fit within the limits of a blog page is an impossible task. It troubles me that I could never put into writing an explanation that would do this experience justice. I could search the pages of the dictionary for the perfect words, but even Mr. Webster could never help me write in a way that gives a reader a complete understanding.

Now though, I cannot help but reflect back on that adventure. Just as quickly as my life in Moscow started, it ended, and a few plane rides is all it took for me to physically leave Russia – a piece of cake really. Now, if only it were that easy to emotionally leave Russia, then I would be in great shape. The level of difficulty in leaving Moscow has surpassed that of almost all other events in my life, and I think it may take time before I stop aching to have it back. Of course I am not really sure that it is in fact possible for a person to live anywhere for four months and not long for it once they are gone. It really can be somewhat of an empty feeling. At the risk of sounding extremely unoriginal, I’d like to say that I left a piece of my heart in Russia. Lucky for me though, I also took so much back with me that I could not feel more whole. I’ve actually had this blog written for a while now, but I took my time in posting it. I guess the idea of “my last Russia blog” seemed too final, and I wasn’t ready to make that transition. After contemplating this, though, I figure that we are always in some sort of transition; always moving, always changing, and always growing… its just something to embrace, to enjoy, and to accept.

Short blog - Metro Security

One of my most frequent Moscow experiences has been riding the metro, and I must say it is always an adventure. Whether it is busting out in random dance parties, having conversations (in Russian) with strange drunk people, or getting lost, it is never just a simple trip. What I find most interesting, though, is Russian Metro security – or should I say, lack of. Let me briefly explain how the metro system works. You either have a frequent users card to be filled each month, or you buy passes at the desk each time. To enter the metro, you need to swipe your card before passing through the stalls, otherwise it will slam closed against your legs.  These are supposed to the two metro options; however, lack of money or perhaps laziness has led to a third option. Many (and by many I mean a whole ton of younger people) simply jump the stalls, or they stick to the person in front of them and go in as one. It’s a free metro ride to anywhere from there. Are these metro “rabbits” (as they are called) reprimanded by the elderly female standing guard? Yes, of course they are. They receive the harsh punishment of a whistle blow and an under-the-breath mutter. Sometimes, if the guard is especially ferocious, she will wag a finger in their direction. The perpetrator then usually looks back with a sly grin and raises his/her hands as if to say “I jumped over it on accident”, and then continue on to wherever they are going. After seeing this over and over I just felt compelled to blog about it :)

Oh Russia. ha

Going to a soccer match tomorrow! Will be sure to write about it

Four Months

Two months ago it seemed like I would be here forever, but now, with a month left, it really has gone by too fast. Four months is a tricky amount of time. It is long enough to be somewhat of a big deal, but it isn’t long enough to have been gone a “really long time”.  It is long enough to be independent and disconnected from home, but it isn’t long enough to have a fully functioning life here.  It is an awkward in between length of time, and it can be frustrating, really.. It was just enough time to get established, get into a routine, and make friendships… and then leave it all. Before I ventured out on my little journey, I thought hard about the transition from home to Russia. What I didn’t really think about, though, was the transition back. It may be safe to say that leaving Russia is going to be harder than it was to leave home. I guess it is because when I boarded the plane to Russia, I knew I would be back home eventually to jump back into my normal routine. That isn’t the case here. When I leave Russia there is no guarantee that ill be back here again, and the friendships I made here will not be the same. With all the gray days, cold weather, and language issues I had a hard time believing that I would ever come to love this country. It turns out I never really had the option. I think Russia was growing on me before I even stepped off of that plane three months ago. I don’t know why I ever (even if for only a minute) doubted that God would bring me comfort here. He did every single day, and for that I am truly grateful. Being obedient to Him gave me this wonderful opportunity that will forever have an influence on my life.  I sometimes think of my life at home as my “real life”, and Russia as a time-out from that. This isn’t true, though. It is one big continuous phenomenon, and my four months here will always be a huge part of that.  I can’t thank God enough for bringing me here, and I will miss it a ton. But, I still have time here… so im going to go enjoy it :).

 

 My Russian Family <3

Enjoying Each Day :)

This past weekend the sun was out, the sky was clear, and I was going stir crazy inside. (If you know me, then you know what I am talking about) I may have literally been twitching. Miles must have somehow tapped into my brain, because he asked if I was up for an excursion to the park. YES! So, an hour on the metro later, we left the gloom of the underground and found our way to the park.  We walked through tree-lined pathways until we came to several churches that were nestled just off of the river. Like the rest of the Orthodox churches in Moscow, they were grand and beautiful on the outside, and humble and cozy on the inside. 

We then made our way to another large church, surrounded by a large concrete wall. The cutout archways in the wall perfectly framed the scenery behind it. I could see a bright blue sky and the Moscow River rippling under the sun - I literally took off running. It was so beautiful my words and pictures could never do it justice. It was hard for me to realize just how much I loved nature until I was deprived of it.  For lunch we packed sandwiches, and we sat on the steps of the bell tower to eat. As I rested against the ancient building, the bells began to play and the wind danced across my face – it’s the happiest I have been since I’ve been here. I could see the city from here, and had a new appreciation of it. I felt part of Moscow and knew that, in some small way, I would now be a part of its history. Ah that wonderful feeling of being tiny. :) After lunch we walked along the river, thrilled to see the ice had melted. After being cooped up all winter, the river was now free and moving under the sun, and the local ducks were joining in its celebration. Exploring a little further, we found a small wooded pathway that dipped and curved through the hillside. The birds began a light tune, and the wind’s quick gusts and stream’s steady trickle joined together in a forest symphony.

Before I go to sleep every night, I lean over and mark the day off of my calendar. As I flip through it, though, I can’t help but think ahead. Pictures in my mind turn with each flip of the calendar page. June and July are blurry, but they are sunny and warm. I smile at August because I know I will be home by then. School will have just started and I will be stretched out under the shadow of the flagpole.  Yes, August’s picture is definitely the LSU parade grounds. September will be busy. School will be in full swing, as will the sleepless nights. It will be filled with routines, alarm clocks, and coffee.  Pictures of the coffee house and pajama parties in studio fill my mind, and I change the page. October is painted in purple and gold. Cheering, singing, and football dominate my mind’s view. The air is changing, and it is fresh and new. Excitement rides along the cool October breeze, as I tighten my scarf and stand small in the stands of Death Valley.  On and on I flip, and on and on the pictures come until I rewind back to march; to the present. I realize that I hardly acknowledged its space in the calendar. I live out an incredible day, but give it only brief acknowledgement before crossing it off and flipping to April – to the future. Once again, my mind is months ahead of my body, and I am daydreaming about tomorrow. Its silly really, when you give it some thought. Neither April nor May, nor even tomorrow are guaranteed; however, today I do have. Today was given to me, and is filled with the joy of knowing Him. Each small box that marks the days on the calendar is like a perfectly wrapped gift from the Lord, bought and paid for by Christ.  

"This is the LORD’s doing;
it is marvelous in our eyes.

 This is the day that the LORD has made;
let us rejoice and be glad in it"

Unified in Him

The weeks here are beginning to feel like days, as the squares on my calendar seem to be filling up with “x’s” rapidly.  So, I want to say that time is passing quickly. When I look back on it as a whole though, it is as if time has tricked me, and has not passed at all. I have only been here a month, but it feels like much longer. I do not really know whether to say it is flying by or dragging on. Time is as indecisive here as it is everywhere else, in that some days are fleeting while others seem endless.

Last week I finally got connected with a church here in Moscow. Ten a.m Sunday morning we headed out, and after eight metro stops, two changes, and one attempt at asking for directions, we found the church. The small Russian woman who helped us was sweet and gave us candy (yes, I took candy from a strange lady on the street). When we told her we were American students, she responded with excitement and a lot of talking, smiling, and pointing. I sure wish I knew what she was saying. “я не понимаю” I kept saying ( “I don’t understand.” ) She smiled and laughed, and then continued on in Russian, smiling and pointing. So, I went back to smiling and nodding. Finally, we got there. On the third floor of a Planet Fitness building, we found people from all nations worshiping and praising the God I know and love. Hands of different colors were raised in praise to Christ.  How big our God is! There were students from Ghana, Nigeria, Korea, China, India, Russia, all over the States and more. When we walked in, the choir was singing about searching and finding none like our Lord. “I searched all over, and found nobody like You” she sang. She may have literally been all over, I thought. Hearing her proclaiming truth through her song brought me peace and comfort, and I joined her in worshiping our God. When we came back to the hostel we told some of our friends and they too may join next weekend. This week has been one of the fleeting ones I was speaking of, since it is already Sunday again. I look forward to my second visit to this church.

I am also realizing how much I took the Rings convenience for granted. I am by no means saying that my love of my church is limited to the fact that it is convenient. I am noticing, though, that it is easier to be committed when you know all of the people, it’s a 5 min drive or walk in pleasant weather, and is just familiar overall. Maybe some days my commitment to the church is based on the actual church, rather than God. I want to love the church (capital C) because HE is committed to and loves the church. Good music, good people, convenience, and a cool pastor are great things – but, by themselves, are empty.  I want to be part of any church that shares in my beliefs because it is part of a movement; a part of His plan. The foundation of my love for the church cant be because I think the service is awesome. It must also be because Gods will is awesome, and being part of whichever church I am attending at the time is part of that will. It is going to take a new kind of commitment I think, but I am going to have a lot of weeks to work on it. I will keep taking it one day at a time.

Days like these are wonderful and are the ones that fly by, but the longest days are those that I feel most like a foreigner. Every giggle at my speech, every second glance from passing people, and every judgmental stare on the metro is intensified. It is on these days that I miss the bliss of my usual naïve self; days that I miss my natural reaction of assuming that everything people are saying in Russian is a good thing and they all love foreigners. They say ignorance is bliss, and I must agree with this unknown “they”.  I often can’t sleep at night and so I am allowed too much time to think of these things. This is the case again tonight. As I sit here writing this, I can look out over Moscow from my window. The converging streets, the colorful blinking lights of buildings, and the smoke from all-night roadside food stands are all in my view. I can see others out there who are awake as well, and I feel no different from the people of Moscow. They, like myself, never sleep, are watching the same blinking lights, walk the same streets, eat from the same vendors, and are under the loving protection of the same God. We may speak different languages, wear different clothes, and perceive each other differently, but we are not so different after all. We are ALL created in His image, and in that we have unity. We are connected not by our cultural traits, but by the One who gave them to us.  Whether I wake in Louisiana or Russia, I still wake to see the sun He created for us. It is the same sun Abraham, David, Christ and all those before me woke to see, and is the same sun that those after me will sit under. It is a reminder of His eternal love and glory that connects all life. My home is wherever He is – I am home.

 

The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.
Day to day pours out speech,
and night to night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words,
whose voice is not heard.
 Their voice goes out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world.
In them he has set a tent for the sun,
which comes out like a bridegroom leaving his chamber,
and, like a strong man, runs its course with joy.
Its rising is from the end of the heavens,
and its circuit to the end of them,
and there is nothing hidden from its heat. 

Psalm 19

The best times make you feel insignificant.

This past week has been enjoyable, and filled with activities. We started our weekend with a group breakfast. We invited some of our Russian friends over, and I made a stack of pancakes and fruit syrup for us. In preparation, I woke up early to go find baking powder at the store. Ive always loved mornings and find them to be a rush of excitement and energy. Walking out into the early morning cold though, is a whole new rush in itself. A walk to and from the grocery can easily replace a morning cup of coffee. After I made it back, I discovered I got backing soda rather than powder (hey everythings in Russian. I tried.) So, we did without and it still worked out ok. We said grace together, and it felt like we were one big family. For dinner we made porkchops, potatoes, and mushrooms in a cream sauce, and again it felt like family. There was definitely something comforting about the experience, and I hope we continue to make meals together. I still get a kick out of wandering down to the market, picking out food, and then trying to make it. I feel less like a foreigner with every trip I make to the store on my own.

The next part of our weekend involved trying out the Russian clubs. I think it may be safe to say that that will be my last experience at the clubs. At home, one would normally go out around 11pm and return home at 2:30am. Here, though, there is a slight dilemma with that plan. The metro is closed from 1am- 5:30 am, and our hostel is closed from 1:30 – 6:30 am. When you go out in Moscow, you stay out in Moscow. You are trapped- a slave to the metro system you could say. I made the mistake of wearing high heels. Now, I don’t consider myself to be a sissy, and four or five hours in heels is manageable; nine hours dancing and walking around the city in heels is not. Allow me to be a bit dramatic for a min: It was horrible!!!!!! Ok. It felt good to get that out. After dancing all night and walking around Moscow to kill time, I was ready to cry. I was sure that the next step was going to be it for me, and my feet were going to give out.  I found myself singing show tunes and praise songs in my head to keep from complaining and frowning. Roma (one of my Russian friends) walked beside me and distracted me a little by muttering random facts about each building. Part of me wanted to hug him and thank him, and the impatient part of me wanted to strangle him ;) He really did help take my mind off of it, though, and we eventually made it home. I slept the entire next day, and had trouble walking because my feet were STILL bruised. Needless to say, if we do go again, I may be wearing my vans. : )

The next night, boredom started to set in so we jumped on a metro and explored the city. First, we stopped and dined on sushi in a small alley restaurant, and toasted to the night ahead. Our next stop - Red Square. I didnt know if it would be exciting, since we had already been during the day, but It was well worth the 56 rubles it took to get there. It was beautiful at night! When we entered the court, we were completely surrounded by the flickering of the lights on the massive buildings. In the center, there was a skating ring and people skated and laughed. There joy was contagious. We were all running around, singing, and goofing off. I couldnt believe I was just playing in Russia. We skipped around the court, payed our respects to Lenin's tomb of course, and stopped at St. Bails Cathedral. It seemed to stand even taller at night then it did when the sun was shining down on it. The glow of its lights added to its height, and certainly to its beauty. The colors shining from the grand building seemed to cast out the haze of the city's smog, and for a few minutes we all just stopped to admire its glory. It made me think of something John Piper had said about feeling best when we feel tiny and insignificant. It was true. Standing small, in the presence of something bigger than myself, is humbling and comforting. 

Yesterday, we went on an excursion around the university. I could not have been more impressed. The opportunities offered to the students here is incredible. This university really strives to make international relationships, so that their students may have as many experiences possible for success. Each department seems to be very focused on the individual student and their trade, and provides a lot of equipment for optimum learning. I am really seeing the beauty in international programs, and the benefits of them. The last part of the tour, was to the military department. We each got to "play" with old guns. I felt a little GI Jane in my leather jacket, holding a machine gun. I wont lie, I like it. (though i really had a hard time keeping a straight face.)

This blog was a little random and a little boring, I know.. but I guess there isn't a ton to say. I’m still here, just trying to figure out life in Russia, and getting used to the transition. I have no idea what the next day will bring, much less the next week. I just pray that ill continue to thank the Lord for everyday I’m given. I know that, like standing in front of St. Basils, I am in the presence of something bigger and more beautiful than myself. I cant help but stand in awe of His creation, and be humbled by it.

"God is most glorified in me, when I am most satisfied in Him."

I miss everyone at home, and I hope everyone is doing well.

Praying for home, always.

just another day in russia

Each new day continues to consist of new excursions; ones, when done at home, would hardly be classified as an adventure. Here, each new trip outside is something exhilarating and new. A few days ago, we laced up our skates and tried our skills (or lack of skills) out on the ice. It was wonderful! We teased each other and tried new tricks, and I somehow managed not to hit the ice…it wasn’t until we were walking to the hostile that I ate snow… figures. Last night a few of us went to a cinema that plays English movies with Russian subtitles. Our movie of choice (and by choice I mean the only option) was “Four Lions”, which I actually found to be a very well written movie about terrorist bombers – its sounds weird, I know.  It uses humor to imply stupidity in suicide bomber’s religion, but also manages to reflect the sadness in these confused beliefs.  It is a little different, but you should check it out if you have the chance.  

I had a washing machine faux pas the other day. I know this seems like a silly thing to blog about, but I need the sympathy in this traumatic event :). It turns out that Russian blue jeans must have a stronger dye in them. My white socks, colored shirts, and a new pair of jeans went into the wash in their respected colors , and they all emerged blue. Blue. I feel like this is a mistake that you see on the movies, but never really happens in real life. Well, it does really happen, and now im that girl with the dyed blue socks and shirts. At least it wasn’t the stereotypical, “a red sock got into my laundry and now my shirts are pink” situation. At least it is a little outside norm. (totally kidding about needing the sympathy. Im handling the unfortunate even quite well id say ;) ).

Tonight I am warding off the cold and homesickness with some homemade, chicken and dumplings (Russian style due to lack of some ingredients). I think it may be the perfect solution for a dreary day. The hostel’s kitchen tiles are old, and the lighting is dim and flickering. The stoves seem quite experienced, and their hard labor shows in their rusted appearance. By itself, the tiny room is cold and bleak, but with the mix of aromas filling the air, the tiny Russian kitchen becomes quite inviting and almost comforting. Instead of the hostel’s kitchen, it becomes my kitchen, and I feel at home. I have been in search of some consistency here, and I think I may have found it. Hopefully, preparing dinner will become an expected event.

Among all the inconsistency lately, has been the weather. (yes, I am talking about the weather again.) Yesterday it was very warm and still in the city. The air was thick and breezeless, and the usually snow covered walkways were layered with brown slush.  Today, though, the snow is steadily falling, hitchhiking its way down on gusts of wind. I watch the dizzying movement until the snowflakes finally come to rest somewhere on the ground. As the day goes on, Moscow snuggles deeper and deeper under a white blanket. Each snowflake, unique it in its own design, is tiny and beautiful and known by God.  Where it falls is unknown, but it is sure to contribute to the intricate, wintery surroundings; each flake is part of something bigger.

As I am getting to know the girls here more, I am realizing how unique and beautiful each is.  Like snowflakes, they too are small in the world, beautiful, and known by God. Before we knew where we would land, He did. In all his sovereignty, he placed us here together -  By his grace and good works, we are intricately designed to be part of something bigger.  

just living and loving every minute God gives me :)

love all my new friends. i know we aren't all here by accident.

My True Light

It seems as though reality finally boarded the plane to join me here in Moscow. It wasn’t until today that it finally sunk in that this will be my home for the next four months. This isn’t a  two-week vacation that will be coming to an end right at the point of, “I had a good trip, but now im ready to go home.” This is more or less a string of eight of those vacations. I understand that wherever you are is the real world, but humor me when I say that those two weeks getaways are like an escape from said real world. Today, it was like realizing that Moscow is my “real world” right now; and if I want to keep up the TV show theme, you could say it is like “true life: I live in Moscow”.   Insane.

What I miss more than I considered I would, is the sun. The days are short here, and the sun seems content to show itself only on occasion.  Without it, I am subconsciously aware and affected by the gray of the city. It isn’t a thought that I carry in my head constantly, but is more like a small, unseen weight that pulls on my mood throughout the day. The gray buildings, cars, and dust seem to try to shade my mood to match their color.

I started this blog last night but didnt finish. I went to sleep predicting another gray day to follow, and intending on writing about Moscow’s complete lack of  light. Leave it to the world to make a liar out of me, though, for today it was beautiful and the sun was out! It was as if the clouds heard me, and parted ways just for me. Today was our first day of class, and though it was interesting, I was practically bouncing with excitement to get out (while still maintaining my newfound, cool and collected, “russian” exterior of course).  We learned how to say “it is good weather,” and that was like dangling food in front of a hungry puppy. I had to get outside. As soon as class ended, we headed for the park and I lost my front of disinterest; the American girl in me was unleashed! We giggled and sang, and we had a photo shoot. I threw the snow in the air,  and its cool sting on my face was wonderful. Tomorrow there is little chance of another cloudless sky, but I  will be content.

Though I do miss the frequent occurrence of the sun’s light, it is nothing but a small candle compared to the light and joy to be found in the Lord. The gray shades, of the tiniest dust particles, cannot overcome my heart’s mood when it is set on the Lord, nor can the grayest and tallest of any building. I wouldn’t complain for a second if the sun were to come out day after day, but do I need it to? No, I guess I don’t. My joy is not in our sun – my joy is in the Son.

 "your word is like a lamp for my feet and a light for my path." 

       Psalm 119:105


a little slideshow :)

america meets russia

I started the day at 4am in a small house in Kenner, Louisiana, and by 7pm I was aboard a plane to Moscow, Russia. I left at dusk in New York, and after seven hours of chasing the sun, I was watching the sunrise over the Norwegian tundra. Thousands of feet below me, I could see nothing but a vast ice land, and the pink shades of the morning were streaked across its snowy canvas. I have never seen scenery more beautiful; it was a painting made possible only by the hand of God. After the calming effect of the view wore off, I became nauseous, nervous, and excited as reality hit…I am actually about to live in Russia for four months…I am not in Louisiana anymore (if i had a dog name Toto with me, I would have told him so).

First thing I noticed: how tall and beautiful most of the Russian women are, with facial expressions that appear to show interest in nothing. They seemed to have perfected the art of being coy yet confident, and it somehow added to their beauty. Me, I don’t know how to not be interested in everything, and so I knew I stuck out like a sore thumb. Shrieking and exclaiming, “I cant believe I'm in Russia! Look at all the snow!” probably didn’t add much to my attempt at blending in either.

What I am finding, though, is that even if they seem cold outwardly, Russian people are very warm and friendly on the inside. When we got to the hostel, we were immediately greeted and taken care of by the Russian students here. We have spent all of our time so far with our Russian friends, and have had a ton of crash course vocabulary lessons. We point and say it in English and they repeat in Russian…and then again in Russian…and then yet again. Today i wrote the alphabet out over and over on the chalk board. (а б в г д...) They giggle at the way I say things but I don’t mind, and I usually laugh along with them. They laugh at how many times I repeat things and how I get frustrated trying to say it with their deep accent. “are you saying a “p” or a “t” sound?” I ask them. If only please and thank you could get you through life, then I would be set. Oh, and I can say “nose” and “goodnight”. (not sure what good those words will do me). Needless to say, learning the language is going to be a challenge. My roommate is from france, so I am also surrounded by and trying to learn some French. For some reason, the little Spanish that I know frequently comes out. I guess I subconsciously group all other languages together as just “foreign”, and my survival instincts tell me to just speak something not English! Perhaps, I’m just crazy. Who knows what language I will end up speaking. Spengrussench? Probably.

The hostel is very basic and homy, and im very comfortable there. At night you can hear the wind ripping through the tops of the buildings, and am grateful for my bedside heater fighting for me. I think, though, that I am managing moderately with the cold, and it really isn’t terrible so far. I’m not suggesting wearing flip flops or anything, but a pair of long johns, jeans, a sweater, jacket, hat, scarf, boots, and gloves should suffice :). There is snow on every surface, and the pathways look like something out of a winter wonderland. Snow covered trees line the roads and it transforms the big industrious city into a quaint and cozy town. Even a big statue of Lenin was covered in snow. I must say, the man is much less intimidating with a snow hat and shawl on.

I know God has led me here, and I know he is good. I cant wait for what tomorrow will bring. Praying for home, always.

with love.

some pictures of the hostel:

    the beds are big boxes that open up with small pads on top

      hallway in the room

       the bathroom. (such tiny bath towels)

                  some friends :)

Prayers for Moscow. This was on the news this morning in case you missed it.

Russian authorities: Terrorist bombing at Moscow airport kills 35

Russian authorities: Terrorist bombing at Moscow airport kills 35

The most consistent characteristic of a day, is that one always comes after the other. Aside from their successive occurrence, nothing can really be predicted about our days.  Situations arise that you never considered or expected would, as well as those that one would never want to consider or expect. As hard as we try, and as hard as government officials try, we will never attain the level of control we desire; we cannot foresee it, nor can we prevent it. Though we may not have a controlling hand in these difficult situations, we can have a responsive one. I'd like to ask for prayers for those injured, for the families who lost someone in the airport today, and for Russia overall. I also ask that we pray for government officials, the EMTs responding on the site, and for the terrorist groups behind the bombing. I hope that anyone reading this will help by lifting up this country and its people in prayer, and by humbly laying them at the feet of Jesus. Our response to the acts of religious groups around the world, set on taking the lives of themselves and others, needs to be Christ. We need to respond with prayer and love. In a broken world, God heals and He comforts - God loves and is Lord over all countries. 


[Phil 1:27,28]


I leave tomorrow for Moscow!! Ready!


shelli.

Ive never blogged before..

I’ve never blogged before. I’m not sure why, really. Maybe because I had nothing to say? Not likely. Maybe because the idea of posting my thoughts on the web is weird to me? Possibly. Maybe im secretly insecure about my writing abilities? Who knows..

I do know why I decided to start though. In eight days I am leaving for Moscow, Russia and will be there until May or July. Im not sure yet when I will be back. A month ago, I would have sobbed like a little child at the thought of leaving soon, but it seems that isn’t the case anymore. It is amazing how much peace the Lord can bring. I am ready to go.

You see, I went on a mission trip to South Africa last summer. It wasn’t this huge emotional response, and it wasn’t a story of me falling in love with the Lord and deciding right then and there to go to the Nations whenever He asked. not. at. all. It was a frustrating trip for me. I didn’t know how to love the Lord to the point of complete abandonment of self, nor was I in the position to joyfully give my whole life over to His will. I looked at the missionaries stationed in Joburg, and I knew that I couldn’t leave my comfortable supportive bubble of Baton Rouge if the Lord willed it. I knew I loved people that much, but did I love the Lord that much? Did I even want to love the Lord that much? After a lot of conversations with anybody that would talk to me, it was pretty clear that I put so much into my horizontal relationships that I completely neglected my vertical one. The interesting thing ive learned about relationships over the course of the past few months is that my horizontal relationships need to be an overflow of my vertical one. Loving, solid relationships with people need to be an overflow of a loving, solid relationship with God. So, I set out to fix this. My immediate practical solution = get in the word. When I got home that summer, I started in Genesis and just dug in. All credit goes to God in this, because surprisingly I haven’t quit yet. Many people know that I didn’t grow up with a church background, so learning about Abraham, Noah, and Moses, and seeing Gods perfect and beautiful plan in action has been huge in my life this past semester. I am just starting 1Samuel and still have so much to learn..I cannot tell you how excited I am to see where God leads me in this journey. It is clear that He has been preparing me to go before I even knew I was going. Blows my mind.

Needless to say, my love of the Lord wasn’t a big, instant response. It grew as my understanding of His story grew. I soon knew in my heart that I needed to leave for a longer period of time. To me, that looked like a summer mission. Glamorous right? Giving my summer up to proclaim the gospel to some unreached people group? Yea sign me up! (talk about pride. agh.) So, I started looking for summer programs. My plan, of course, was not His. He plopped the study abroad Russia program right into my lap, and I tossed it right out. A whole semester in Russia? Heck no. This isnt’t technically even a mission trip, it’s a whole semester, and its cold. I was not going.. (let me remind you that I am leaving on this excursion in 8 days haha) After a lot of ups and downs, which I wont get into, I finally came to love the plan He put before me and found peace in going to Russia. God doesn’t just call us on “mission trips”. Life, in the name of Christ, is missional. It isn’t about being able to say that I went on a “mission” trip, and it isn’t about sticking another “ive been to that country” pin on your map. He has come to show me that life in Him is abandonment of self. It isn’t about glamour, and it certainly isn’t about my story. It is about proclaiming His story. He gives us our relationships, and so He has every right and reason to send us into new ones – no matter where they may be.

So, now the plan is to go and keep in touch via blog and send out prayer requests and such. Who knows if I will keep up with it. I have to admit that writing this blog post was kind of fun. It bring me back, though, to the question of why didn’t I start blogging sooner? Maybe the real reason was that I was afraid to be open and honest; afraid of being myself. I never thought that was an insecurity of mine, but then again I never gave it much thought. That of course sets my mind off to pondering the cliché question of, “who am I?”… Really?? Could I have landed on a lamer question if I tried? Ha, probably not. The answer took me about a minute to come to. Last summer I would have thought for hours over this, but not now. The answer is simple: I am Shelli, I am an image bearer of Christ, I am fearfully and wonderfully made, and I am His..and I am going to Russia!!!

..everything else, I don’t really need to know right now :)