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.