Series of Firsts: Part III

First Snowfall of the year

We took a poll a few weeks ago about when we thought the first snow would fall. I said December 8. Abigail said November 21, and everyone else was somewhere in between. Abi won!! It started snowing Saturday morning (Nov 22) and snowed all day long. The flakes were big and slow--my favorite kind. By the end of the day, we were sledding on snow up to our knees. Sadly by Tuesday it warmed up and melted at our house. Happily, it snowed again on Poiana on Wednesday, so we began our Thanksgiving celebration today on the mountain. We were just about the only people there--crazy Romanians forgot all about the Thanksgiving holiday--and it was beautiful. Hope to go again soon!

Daniel with our friends, the Becks, on the hill in our back yard.

Abi, wishing the snow was up to her hips

The backyard with a fresh blanket of snow

Series of Firsts: Part II

First Day of School

The kids started school Nov 17 (nearly 2 weeks ago--I'm a little slow) with two new teachers, who are adjusting beautifully and are doing a great job teaching our kids. Daniel is having to adjust a little, transitioning from talk about ATeam, pingpong, hiking, and other boy-stuff, to talking about hair products, ring sizes, and how to shop for gifts for girls. Rebekah says one of her goals is to help prepare Daniel for a wife one day. He's being a good sport thus far, even trying to enter into the beauty product conversation by talking about his all-in-one soap that can be used as shampoo, soap, toothpaste, do.... Rebekah was impressed!

We thank God for Rebekah and Carly!

Kingstone Academy 2008-9

Rebekah, Carly, Abigail, Daniel, Jessalyn and Aaron

Daniel and Abigail with Rebekah are following the Romanian tradition of showering the teacher with flowers on the first day of school.

A Series of Firsts...part I

First HMA

When we moved to Romania 3 1/2 years ago, we knew part of the plan would be to return to the US for a period of time in order to visit supporters, raise more support if necessary, reconnect with family and friends, deal with medical issues, and take care of whatever else that must be handled States-side.  Three years ago, it seemed like a long way off.  And here we are, already home 3 weeks and our first HMA is over.  We did get to see almost all of our supporters. Gratefully, there was no new support to raise. We were able to see and enjoy almost all of our more immediate family members and many of our friends.  And we spent more hours than we would have liked at doctors' offices.   With those expectations in mind, it was a productive 3 months.

And yet, as promised, the Lord did exceedingly, abundantly more than we could have asked or imagined. In between the immensely busy schedule...

• We got to enjoy Katy's first 3 months in college with her, as we helped get her moved in, showed her around campus, attended football games with her, met some of her friends, treated her to a few meals, watched her work at her first paying job (University Sporting Goods), counseled her through bumpy waters of sorority life, had dinner with her RUF minister and his wife, took her shopping, stocked her dorm room full of groceries, talked on the phone daily as she went to and from class.  What a blessing for us to enjoy that time alongside her!  Abigail even got to spend a night in the dorm with her, anticipating her own college days that are just around the corner.
  
  
  Katy and Ed in the Grove at an Ole Miss game
  
  
  
• Over three months, we visited with Michael almost weekly as we traveled to Jackson for appointments.  We caught up on much of his life that we had missed out on for the previous two years.  We walked through Belhaven's campus--Ed and I even taught a class one evening on mission, attended a football game (not quite the same even as at Ole Miss, but we did get to see Michael's friend, Sarah Grafton on the homecoming court), met many of his friends, climbed the rock wall where he works at 1st Baptist Health Center (Abi and Daniel climbed...I watched), had many lunch dates at his favorite jaunts, enjoyed countless face to face conversations about life, work, relationships, and Daniel got to be a college student for a day/night.  We thank the Lord for quality face to face time with him.
  
  
  
  Michael and his friend, Sarah Grafton
  
  
  
  
  
• Abigail and Daniel re-entered American culture by doing a lot of shopping, attending high school football games (American football), watching American football on TV (Sam's big screen made it even more of an event), participating in youth group (including a lock-in), reconnecting with friends, fishing with Ed, playing on a soccer team (Daniel), attending a Viking cooking school (Abi), and being loved on and spoiled by grandparents.


Dan's big catch

Daniel and Abi enjoying an Ole Miss football game. Go Rebs!!



• One of the great unexpected pleasures we enjoyed was our time with Sam, Chris, and Sarah.  Sarah quickly became Abi and Daniel's highlight of each day, and she adores them, as well.  Because Sam now works for M&F in Kosy, they moved to Kosy shortly after we arrived.  
  
  
  Gentleman Daniel is escorting Chris (and soon to be Burton, born Nov 12)
  
  
  

Sweet baby Sarah with Nana's new dog, Charlie

• FOOD!  We ate and ate and ate yummy American food.  Now we're working it off, or at least working it into shape.  It was worth it.
• Morning coffee with Mom and Dad. 
• Nicholas and Melissa's wedding.
  
  
  
• A trip to Destin.

Not in Destin, but it looks like it from here. It was actually at the Reservoir in Jackson. 

Cute kids, all grown up!!

Little Celebrations

We're about to head back to the US for our first HMA (Home Ministry Assignment).  We'll be gone 3 months which on one hand seems like a really long time to be away.  Too long!  And on another hand, it seems way too short.  Too short!  So, we'll trust the Lord with our alloted time, believing He'll provide for all that we'll leave behind for such a long time, and that He'll enable us to get all done that must be done in such a short time.

Before we go, we have to fill out lots of paperwork with MTW, assessing our first term here: things we've learned, what was good/bad/hard, growth areas.... So, I've been thinking about things the Lord has taught me in our 3 years here, and it would take multiple entries to begin to cover it.  Maybe during our time in the US I'll have time to articulate it. Until then, this is what's been on my mind:

One thing we've all learned is to appreciate life's small pleasures.  Lately, I've given thanks for:

• Visine (sour cherries) turning red on the trees in the yard. 
  
• Sunrises and sunsets.  We've seen more of the latter lately as sunrise is around 5am. Though with Michael at Basic Training, both Ed and I have been up in the wee hours praying for him. He'll be done on July 11!!
  
• Fresh fruit and veggies at the market. The smell of fresh produce is one of my favorites!
  
• New finds at the grocery store.  Yesterday, Abi and I were at Metro stocking up after the Vision Trip.  To our great delight we found tortillas!! Until now, I've been making them. We also found CapriSun's. Abi was happy about that.
  
• A quiet morning and a pleasant evening on the new deck.  Ed and Daniel and Darin worked tirelessly for a week to finish a deck that was perfect for the Vision Trip.  We had nearly every meal and 1/2 of the meetings at our home, so it was a HUGE blessing.  It's a perfect spot for enjoying early morning sunshine and for watching the late afternoon light dance on the wheat fields in the distance.
• Fans.  It's hot in Romania now (into the 90s in the heat of the day), and with no AC, it can be pretty toasty warm.  A few properly placed fans make a difference.
• Friendship.  The Lord has blessed us with wonderful friends here and the thought of not seeing them for 3 months really makes me sad. I think that's a good thing.  I think one of the worst parts about being away during the fall is missing the main harvest of fruit and veggies.  In Sept. we have plums and in Oct. come the apples, pears, and grapes.  Our trees and vines are loaded this year.  Hearing us express our disappointment, we've had dear friends who have already said they would help can things for us (jam, compote, and applesauce).  Angela even said she'd make me a batch of zacusca, our favorite fall treat (a puree of roasted eggplant, red peppers and onions).
• Reunions.  Katy will be coming home from camp after 10 days today. She was a leader again.  Daniel will come home Monday.  We've enjoyed Abi, but will be so glad to have all 3 home again. And we can't wait to have time with everyone before K and M head off to school.
• Confidence that the Lord is our great provider, even giving grace to prepare us for what lies ahead.  The idea of coming back to Romania with only 1/2 our kids creates a knot in my stomach and lump in my throat every time I think of it.  I've often quoted Elisabeth Elliot to myself, "God doesn't give imagining grace. He gives sufficient grace at our time of need."  I believe that is true. However, I've been thinking lately as my heart has ached over imagining what it will be like to return in November without Katy or Michael, that while we don't yet have the grace we'll need to experience that loss, maybe God does give preparing grace.  So, while we don't need grace to imagine it (or as Ed says "to borrow trouble"), or live in that experience today,  we do need grace to prepare us.  We trust that just as God has been faithful in preparing us for all we've been through til now, He'll be faithful to prepare us for what lies ahead, and give sufficient grace for it at the proper time.
• Water. Over the last 3 months we've had several incidents of several days with no water. Several unannounced days.  That makes life interesting. This morning was one of those such days.

One of the best parts of this deck project was the time Ed and Daniel had together building it. Daniel learned a lot and worked joyfully helping Ed build, dig, pour concrete.... Abi decorated the walk with seashells from our trip to Palm Coast this spring.  And I can envision flower beds lining the deck and flower boxes hanging over the edge next year.  With the rest of the walls painted yellow to match the house, it will be lovely!

Another small pleasure is our freshly painted bedroom that matches the 

big pleasure we take in the quilt Edda made for us!

Vision trip group with our Romanian friends at a picnic in the mountains. 

Our friend and neighbor Traian brought over rhubarb from his garden a few weeks ago.  We thought Opa would be impressed with the size of those stalks!  I used Oma's recipe and made a really good rhubarb cake.

Our kids with Bekah and Carly, prospective Kingstone Academy teachers for next year. Another thing for which we give thanks!

The Vision trip group (part of them) enjoying the shade of the deck for meetings.

Katy helped dish up ice cream to go on the freshly picked blueberries (in the bowl on the table) that we bought from some gypsies one afternoon.  This was part of one of the many meals served from the barn for the Vision Trip. 

"I do"

I'm reading this book that I've had for a while but have just now made time to read.  All of the weddings we've been to lately have compelled me to find time. It's called When Sinners Say I Do by Dave Harvey, and is one of the best marriage/relationship books I've read in a long time. The book's thesis is taken from Thomas Watson's quote, "Til sin be bitter, Christ will not be sweet," and reminds us throughout that, "When sin becomes bitter, marriage becomes sweet." And the gospel is the only thing that enables us to see that sin without becoming despondent or depressed, self-justifying or blaming. It says, "I am that bad, and worse; but that proves just how much I'm loved."  Harvey says, "The very sin that you fear seeing is the very reason why Christ died in your place. The gospel translates our fear into worship." And the gospel translates feeble, average, struggling, status-quo marriages into sweet marriages that lead us to worship Christ who is redeeming them. I'd highly recommend it, even if your marriage is already sweet.  

One of the challenges I find in relating in another language is taking these things that I'm thinking about in English and learning how to communicate them with some measure of acuracy in Romanian. We've got friends who are recently married, and another couple who will marry while we're in the US, which makes me really happy for them, but really sad that we'll miss it. One of the couples, Cami and Razvan, had been dating for about a year and were engaged for about half that time. They were married in a church (Ed did the wedding) with a ceremony that was a little like American weddings. Most Romanians we talk to say that they love American weddings, from what they've seen on TV, and would love to have an American wedding. But most Romanians are Orthodox and every wedding looks alike: Orthodox church, lots of symbolism, not very romantic. Remember My Big Fat Greek Wedding? The wedding scene, and actually even the reception scene, are similar to the traditional Romanian weddings. The other couple, Danezu and Monica, told us 3 days before their wedding that they were getting married. They've been together 14 years (or maybe it's 16--I can't remember), and Danezu's been ready to marry probably since day 1. Moni's been more reluctant, partly because she's a pretty independent woman and partly because her mom's death a few years ago has left her without much desire to think about the future. We've had lots of conversations about marriage with them, and ,praise God, that they finally decided to seal their relationship. Their wedding was at the courthouse in Brasov, and Ed was the witness.

A few interesting things about Romanian weddings: There has to be a courthouse wedding, and then one can choose whether to have a church wedding. Close family and friends are invited to the civil wedding, and then many are invited to the church wedding. The two ceremonies can be on the same day or years apart. There's usually a reception following the church wedding, that lasts hours, even til the wee hours of the morning. At a typical evangelical wedding, there is no dancing, no drinking, but lots of food, enough for several days. At a typical Orthodox wedding, there is traditional Romanian dancing, celebratory drinking, and lot and lots of food. Those who attend the wedding pay. That's right. If you go, there's a set amount that is sometimes announced and otherwise spread by word of mouth, that all must give per head. And then there's the expected gift on top of that amount, which is usually double. Lately the total amount has been up to $100 per person. Pretty expensive for a 5 person family!

We loved being a part of both weddings, and felt really thankful to be included in the inner-circle of friends, trusting God to use our relationships with them to model Christ-centered marriages made up of sinners who know we are and are clinging to Christ for redemption.

At Cami and Razvan's wedding. She looked like a brunette Barbie doll in her 

gold shimmery ball gown.  

Katy and our friend Elena sang beautifully at the wedding. Abi was just there looking cute.

Cami and Razvan's parents are Brethren and Pentacostal, so there was no dancing at the reception. But before it was all over, Abi and some the girls got in a little twirling.

Danezu and Monica

At a civil wedding, each person who comes brings flowers and showers the bride with bouquets of bright, beautiful flowers.  Makes for a colorful picture, doesn't it?

Easter chickens

For Easter we hosted a late afternoon lunch, including our team, the Ebbers guests, our friend Domnul Nicolai, and his friend, Elena. After we ate all we could and sat around the table discussing religion, politics, culture, and economics following Romanian tradition, we headed outside to watch the soccer match already underway. The kids were attacking the ball, the grown-ups were trying to keep up, and suddenly there were 2 balls on the field. Or were there?

Daniel, Aaron and Darin 

The second ball on the field, that actually ended up being Angela and Traian's chicken.  Ed had fun tucking its head under its wing, spinning it around and making it play dead for a few minutes.  We enjoyed watching him, hoping he didn't kill it!

Hannah found great delight in chasing, watching, and playing with the chicken, though she kept calling it a "cocos", for "rooster" in Romanian.

Our kids had fun posing with it!

Hannah finally got the nerve up to hold it. I told her mom she needs to get that child a chicken!!

We thought we were a clever marketing ad for Chic-fil-A!!

And Daniel thought he was clever using Mrs. Chicken as an American football.  When we told Angela and Traian later what we did with their chicken, they laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that made me wonder if it was funny or if they were trying to not be concerned for the well-being of their chicken.
And this is obviously no chicken but a great picture of a beautiful girl!  She begged for a chicken for days after Angela took her chicken back home.  And until the girls got turned onto buying an Easter lamb for a pet!  We stopped and asked a shepherd one day if we could buy one, but he said they were still too small to be away from their mamas.  The girls had decided they would brush it, tie a ribbon around its neck, take it for a walk, and name it Easter.  Three weeks have passed, and we think they've forgotten about it.  We hope.

Pictures to tell the stories...

Our first family sleepover in the barn.  

On cold winter nights, we would crank up the soba (wood burning stove), make it so warm you want to strip down to your skivvies and watch movies on the big screen with the projector. One night we blew up mattresses, cooked dinner on the soba, ate, played Speed Scrabble (Daniel won for the first time), read a Flannery O'Connor short story out loud, and woke up to a breakfast of biscuits and eggs cooked on the soba...after we sweated like we were in a sauna all night!  

Katy and our friend Anushka have birthdays within a few days of eachother. (March 10th and 8th) We celebrated their birthdays together.

Abi, Elena, Anushka, Katy, Adriana, and Felicia all slept in the barn after dinner. I decided that I'm too old to stay up all night. Plus, I always prefer sleeping with my husband!

Abi is such a wonderful hostess. She invited the Ebbers kids over to dye Easter eggs last week. Romanians have a tradition of banging the eggs together to see whose cracks first. The kids enjoyed cracking the eggs more than eating them, littering the yard with shells. Blitz and Luther feasted on eggs Sunday, though our neighbor, who's a dog lover, said to only give them the yolks and only one a day. We didn't really listen.  

I've still got a basket of Easter eggs in the kitchen, including one, that our friends dyed naturally. They taped parsley on the egg, wrapped it in pantyhose and dyed with onion.  It's really pretty--kind of puts ours to shame. I always think about my daddy and those pickled eggs he used to eat. 

Easter tears

This weekend marked the pinnacle of celebration and tradition in Romania. Easter.  It's as big a deal as Christmas for most people, with much of the holiday spent around the table, eating more food than the body was intended to intake over a short period of time.  And along with a big meal always come long afternoons and evenings of unhurried story-telling, passionate discussions (the Latin influence that often can be mistaken for yelling), and engaging conversation among family and friends, all the more enjoyable after several exhausting days of cleaning and cooking in preparation for the festivities.  It's a joyful time for most.  It was for us, this year, especially as we spent time with those whom God has graciously given to us as friends.   Yet at the same time, I felt on the verge of tears throughout much of the weekend.  Let me explain...

We joined our neighbors at the midnight Easter service in the cemetery surrounding the Orthodox church just down the hill from our house.  Under a clear sky sprinkled with stars, we stood at the back of the cemetery waiting for the service to begin.  On our way in we greeted several neighbors, one of whom is the guy who lives a few houses down and is always standing in front of his house, blue work coat on and a big, genuine smile plastered on his face.  He lives right next door to the house where the cute yappy dog sits on top of the roof, a sight that always makes us smile.  Domnul Neighbor was proudly standing and guarding the tombstone that he proceeded to tell us cost him several thousand dollars.  It was pretty, as tombstones go. Black, shiny, clean.  He had even paved the path beside the grave with the same black granite. As we looked more carefully, we saw that there were "born in " dates but nothing that followed, and then realized that it was his tombstone.  He was prepared for his death... with a beautiful grave.  And maybe his heart is prepared, as well. I don't know him well enough to know. However, if he's like most people in this extremely religious culture, the candles are lit, the icons are hung, the big religious celebrations are attended (A survey was done recently that shows that most Romanians attend baptisms, weddings, Christmas and Easter in the church and that's it.), the prayers are said, and the graves are polished, but the heart is unchanged and unprepared to stand before the throne of God.  It made me really sad to think of how his preparations will ultimately leave him empty, unless he has "a strong and perfect plea.  A great high priest whose name is love, who ever lives and pleads for me".  Domnul Neighbor usually makes me smile. This time, I wanted to cry.

The service began with bells ringing, silencing the chatter of the few thousand people filling  the graveyard. It was a beautiful sight as the priest brought in the single candle that shared it's light with a few more, who passed the light to those behind them until the entire cemetery glowed. We agreed that a cemetery is the best place to begin an Easter celebration, truly reminding us of Christ's defeat over death.  And yet as I listened to the priest sing the Easter story, crying out to Christ for mercy, and praying for the people, it made me want to weep.  How many people with "the light of Christ" flickering in their hands and the words of Christ echoing in their ears understood their need for mercy, why Christ died, and what he's made of us, His people? If they only knew...

Sunday morning came early.  We sang English Easter hymns on the way to church and wondered why we only sing those once a year.   The church was packed and Ed was squashed by this chubby Romanian woman who was determined to fit on our row.  The service began with our voices singing together the traditional Orthodox Easter hymn that was sung throughout the service the night before in the cemetery.  I was grateful they included that in the service, connecting the truth found in the words that were proclaimed at the Orthodox service with the truth that would be proclaimed, and hopefully, applied, in the service that followed.  For 1/2 hours the choir sang, and it was absolutely beautiful.  I could have listened for longer had my sciatic nerve not been shooting pain up my leg and hip.  Corin, the pastor and our friend, then preached a great sermon on why Christ had to be raised from the dead if it was His death that paid for our sins.  He began the service by reading where Christ wept over Jerusalem. My thoughts went back to the night before, imagining Christ weeping over Codlea, Brasov, Romania.  I wanted to cry for joy at the beauty of the music, the truth of the gospel and the life that is mine in Christ, and at the same time cry for those who I know and love around me who are lost.

Sunday afternoon we hosted our team, the Ebbers' guests (a couple who came from Canada to help them put an addition on their house), the Berrioses (our friends from El Salvador), Domnul Nicolae (the clay guy whose wife just died), and his neighbor Elena for lunch. It was fun to decorate the barn with vases filled with tulips from the yard, candles with light from the church the night before, real plates (usually we do throw-away up there), wine glasses, and china tea cups that we NEVER use here.  We ate sarmale that Angela and I made together, green bean bundles, mashed potatoes, grilled chicken (on the green egg, of course!), beer bread and fruit salad. Abi made cookies for dessert. We, like our Romanian friends, sat around the table for hours laughing, telling stories, discussing life and lessons learned...we just did it without the Latin flair.  Then many played football, caught and played with chickens (see later blog), and tried to work off some of our lunch.  Later that evening we walked to Monica and Danezu's (our friends from Bible Study) with Angela, Traian, and their dog Lucky, and visited til almost midnight!

By Monday night, Ed and I were wiped. We'd spent almost the whole day with Angela and Traian (Monday is the 2nd day of Easter, and just as much a holiday as Sunday) and were ready for some English, some mindless movie watching, and some alone time. We sent ourselves to bed early and left the kids to entertain themselves and watched a movie recommended by Nicholas, Into the Wild.  It is both an excellent and disturbing film, one that I've not been able to quit thinking about it. As Ed and I ran together on Tuesday, I was crying over this movie. It's a true story about a college grad, searching for peace and truth, escaping to Alaska to survive alone, and seeking to find happiness and rest in what he finds along the way.  Without going into the movie (this blog is way too long anyway), I'll just say that it broke my heart and made me realize the state of the people around me who are escaping, searching, and coming up with emptiness. I cried on and off for a day. 

I realize in writing and thinking about tears, that most of my tears, most of the time are shed for myself. I'm hurt. I'm tired. I'm lonely. I'm wishing something in my life were different. I'm angry.  I'm blue....

How I pray that God will make me cry for what He cries for:  the lost, the hurting around me, His glory being shrugged at....

At the Ambassador's conference where we went in March, Steve Brown spoke about tears. He said, "When we speak truth without tears, it’s just condemnation and judgment. When we grant grace and mercy without tears, it’s just self-righteousness. When we give compassion without tears, it’s just moralistic “do-goodism.”

So, I'm asking God to keep me crying, but crying for the right things. I want a life marked out by the love of Christ that moves me to tears and a love for others that leads me to weep for them.

 

Catching up...again

Darin, Isaac, Aaron, Daniel and Abigail on a beautiful 6 hour hike we took as a team last Saturday.  The "Greening of Magura" was how we described it, with trees budding, flowers blooming and green grass contrasting with the leftover grey of winter.

Just as we rounded the bend, we could see 3 different mountains, and below them lonely houses perched on the hilltops.  What a view these people wake up to each morning!  Ed ran into a lady on the top of a cliff that he and the kids climbed who apparently had escaped to find a quiet place to read.  Needless to say, it was no longer quiet with our arrival!  This lady was probably in her 60s and nimbly managed to traverse the same path some of us were struggling down. I guess when you live in the middle of nowhere and live off the land, you tend to be a bit more fit than we city dwellers.

My favorite touch of Spring is the splash of color that the tulips bring to the front of our house. I smile each time we drive in the driveway.

The hikers, which included teammates, Elena and Anushka, our Romanian friends, and Rebecca, who is a potential teacher for next year.

So, it's been a really long time since I've written anything...again, and after reading Katy's college application essays, I'm wondering why I'm writing at all. I should really turn this over to her, except that it probably gives her pleasure to know that she can out-write her mom.  So...my feeble attempts at telling the tales of the last month are as follows...

We were in the States for a couple of weeks over Easter (American Easter, that is. Romanian Easter is the 26th).  Ed and I spoke at the MTW Ambassador's Weekend in Palm Coast, FL.  It was one of those places where we really suffered for Jesus.  Four days of visiting with really interesting people who shared a passion for missions, staying in a pretty lush place, eating more than enough gourmet meals, (My favorite was the bacon. It's funny what you miss and indulge in when you get it!) soaking up the much longed for sunshine, and worshipping in English.  It was a sheer delight for all of us. I think our kids enjoyed it as much as we did. Katy's comment as we left was, "You know, this was a great time, but not just because of where it was. I think I enjoyed meeting different people more than anything."  It didn't hurt that there were 5 or 6 pools, a beach nearby, and the warmth of summer in Romania!!

Michael was gracious enough to share his spring break with us the following week, unfortunately we shared more than that. We gathered in Destin for what was to be a relaxing week, only Ed spent about 1/2 of it handling mini-crises in Romania via Skype, communicating with potential recruits, and planning a vision trip for this summer.  So much for rest!  Another huge portion of our time was spent hugging toilets. A stomach bug from hell attacked 9 out of 13 of the people who were crammed into Mom and Dad's beach house, way too many people to be sharing a 3 bedroom/3 bathroom house.  Over the few hours when people started dropping like flies, it was proven that 3 bathrooms weren't nearly enough.  The worst part was that we were in Destin, where many of our memories are tied with the meals we've eaten, and none of us felt like eating for 4 days.  Even those who didn't get sick didn't want to eat, for fear of just "renting it", as Ed put it.  Nonetheless, it was a nice time, an unplanned and unexpected visit that we were most grateful for.  

We returned home, from the Florida sunshine to snow covered dreary Romania.  But now, even that has passed. We've got green grass, blooming trees, and have had some warm, sunshiny days over the last few weeks. I find that I value Spring much more now that winters are so long and cold.  Maybe how we view God is sort of the same way. When we see the bleakness, coldness, and dreariness of our hearts left to ourselves, we value much more the new life, brightness, and color that Christ brings when he restores and renews us.  I await with expectation the final restoration and the Spring that we've not yet begun to imagine, after the "winter" of life in a fallen world.  I'm thankful for the taste of it that we enjoy each year.  

So, in between our return home from the US and now, Ed officiated his first Romanian wedding...in Romanian. That deserves a blog entry of it's own!  He went to Spain for a Team Leader's meeting.  Katy decided on college: she'll be attending Ole Miss, enrolled in the Croft Institute for International Studies.  (Maybe I can get her to fill in the details later.) We hosted the first of what we hope to be monthly meetings with the Romanian pastors with whom we work.  Our teammates from Timisoara came for a visit.  Katy went to Germany to visit her best friend from Romania, Miriana, who moved back to Germany last year.  It gave us a taste of what life will be like next year without Katy.  I don't like it!  (I'll see if she'll write something about that, too.)  And we hosted a prospective teacher for Kingstone Academy next year.   

A lot going on that makes us tired most of the time.  It also tends to make me anxious.  All of the unknown. Who's going to teach our kids next year?  How will we transition to a family of 4 at home?  How can we encourage the Romanian pastors?  How do we maintain our relationships here when we've got so much going on that pulls us away from them?  When will we have a pastor for a church plant here?  And that's just the beginning...  

Easter is this weekend. It's the pinnacle of celebrations in Romania. Eggs are dyed red, symbolizing the blood of Christ; houses are cleaned and even remodeled, pointing us to the renewal that should take place in our lives; candles will be lit at midnight in the church cemetery on Easter morning and then taken back home, reminding us of the light that comes to us from Christ and should flow from every part of our lives illuminating the darkness around us; lamb is eaten (Only in Romania, they eat ALL of it: boiling parts to make salads and loafs and dips.  Also, my friend Angela, said she couldn't eat a lamb after watching them scamper across the hillside behind our house. I have to agree.), reminding us of the Lamb who was slain; and people will be greeted with, "Hristos a inviat!" and the response will be, "Adevarat, a inviat!"  (Christ is risen. He is risen, indeed.)  The sad part is, for most people around us, it's all empty. Tradition. Habit. Frumos. A nice thing to do.   When I look at my own fears and anxieties, I realize, that I, too, lose sight of what Christ's death and resurrection means.  Daily. It means, "He who spared not his own son, but gave him up for us all, how will he not also will him graciously give us all things?"  Therefore, I have nothing to fear.

Greselute

One of the things I've noticed about Romanian language is that they often use the diminutive form of a noun to express themselves better. Usually it's used when we would say, "Cute little..." For example, a table is masa, a small table is masuta. A house is casa, a cute little house is a casuta. A niece is a nepoata, a sweet, little baby niece it a nepotica. (I've been talking about Baby Sarah lately!) Katy was referred to by a taxi driver a few weeks ago as "papusica", not just a doll, but a little doll.  

Ed received a nice compliment from our friend Angela last night after leading a lengthy Bible Study in Romanian on the holiness of God. After the study, Angela and I were discussing how well Ed did in both leading and speaking. I said, "His mistakes (greseli) were fewer tonight."  

Angela's response made me smile. "Those weren't mistakes. They were just few "greselute"--little mistakes.

A strange request

On Tuesday, the kids and I were sitting outside soaking up sunshine on an unusually warm day in late February. A friend and former teacher of the kids, Jo Stebbing, had stopped by for a visit with her little boy. She's British and he's a gypsy orphan. They've been together for 3 1/2 years now, and she's trying with all her might to legally adopt him. It's really comical to hear, "Mum, can't I just pop in the house and use the toilet?" with an perfect British accent coming from the mouth of this dark eyed, dark skinned, dark haired gypsy kid, who would normally be found dirty, skinny, and standing on the street somewhere begging. It made me laugh, and at the same time, made me grateful. For Jo and for Alex, but also for myself. 

I am that gypsy kid, skinny, dirty, begging, with no hope. And I was taken in, loved, and given a place of belonging which has changed the way I live. Belonging to a Father who loves me and cares for me must change me. 

As Jo and I talked I realized that the illustration goes even further. Alex isn't yet adopted. Romania is closed to international adoptions, which is sad because there are so many kids who need good homes. Hospitals and orphanages are full of kids who have no place to go. Several years ago, a system was set up to try to help the situation, for kids in the orphanage to have a "maternal assistant" to care for them. It's sort of a foster child arrangement, which still leaves kids without what they most need: belonging, permanence, security.

Jo began this relationship with Alex when he was 1 1/2 years, in a manner of speaking. I'm not sure of all the details, but somehow, her "maternal assistant" role could only be part time. She took Alex every weekend for over a year. When she realized that she and he both needed more time together, she unofficially took him in, with the hope of adopting him when she gained residency. Now there's a hang up with her residency, though she's an EU citizen, and the process is very much on hold. She has Alex all the time now, which has given him the discipline, order, and good health that he badly needed, but the papers aren't signed. She can't leave the country with him. He's not hers. 

He calls her Mum. She loves him. He loves her. She provides for his physical needs, but they both live in a sense of fear. What if.... the child protection services comes and takes him away? ....someone stops by for a visit and sees the knot on his head from a bike accident and calls Jo unfit? ... the law changes again? ... something calls Jo back to England without Alex? ... her love for her fiance outweighs her love for Alex and she gives up? There's a lack of permanence, assurance, and security for them both.
Holding that image in mind, I'll take you to a statement that was made at Bible Study Thursday night. My friend said, "The way I see it, because God gives us a choice, though He's sovereign, one day, I could choose to walk away, to turn my back on God. There is no assurance of salvation, really." 

What is missing in her theology? The doctrine of Adoption. When we are adopted by the King of the Universe, we belong. We can run, but He holds us fast. We may be dirty, ugly, skinny, hungry gypsy kids, but are His. And because we belong, it is permanent, we are sure, and we have an amazing security that relieves us of the fear that is ours because we know our wandering hearts. Yet, He knows our wandering hearts better than we and He takes them and seals them, signs the papers making us His with His blood.
So, all of this is going through my mind as I'm talking with Jo, thanking God for adopting me and the security that is mine in Him. My thoughts are interrupted by shouts coming from our front gate. A raspy, "Vecina! Vechina!" calling me, her neighbor, to the gate. I approach, smiling, wondering what she's up to. I ask her if I can help her with something.
She says, "Yes. You have a male dog, don't you?"
I'm wondering what Luther did to get in trouble, and reply slowly, "Yes. Why?"
"We need him to come over to our house for a while." She must have seen the confusion on my face and continued, "Our female dog is going crazy. She's in heat and she needs male dog. She needs it. Can you bring yours over?"
I'm thinking, can she be serious?? Looking at her pleading eyes, I realize she is. What to say... "You know, our dog was sick as a puppy and then he had an accident that resulted in a broken hip. He doesn't really do that. Sorry."
Now, she looks confused. "But our dog is going crazy. She needs a male dog. Now."
Hmmm..."You know, we have a female dog. She goes into heat every 6 months. It makes her mood change and she doesn't act the same, but she really can do without a male dog. In fact, unless you want a lot of puppies, it's best that she not have time with a male dog."
We went back and forth for a while, until I think she understood, though I'm not sure she agreed.
Oh, well. That's one place where helping means saying, "No."

Does he look like he's upset with me for interfering in his love life?

Report from Ski Camp

Dear friends and family,
I just wanted to say "Thank you" for praying for me while I was at camp. I had a great time and met a lot of people there who I hope I will remain in touch with. I snowboarded every day for four days. We had a great worship time every morning and evening, with small groups at night. We talked about identity, what we find it in, and what is a realistic view of identity. We played lots of games, went sledding, had a ski/snowboarding race, not to mention my favorite part, just hanging out with people my age. I had a friend here say that my Romanian had gotten better since last week befor camp. I talked in Romanian almost non stop, which was pretty hard. Some of the people I met live in Brasov, so I plan to see them often. It's been pretty hard not having any friends here (my only good friend that I met 2 years ago moved to Germany), so I was really excited to meet some people my age there.
As some of you know, I turned 15 at camp. I was slightly nervous about celebrating my birthday away from home, but it turned out to be really fun. The leaders woke me and my roommate up by singing "Happy Birthday" in English, Romanian, and German. I got a Snickers bar and other candy, plus everyone kept wishing me a happy birthday throughout the day. I won't forget my 15th birthday for a long time.
Abigail

The Word of God

I think it's Alistair Begg's church that has the statement on their bulletin:  "You have exalted above all things your name and your word," from Psalm 138:2.  I know that's true. I know it is powerful, sharper than any two edged sword. It is light. It is truth. It is life. Yet...there's this unbelieving part of my heart that questions the power of the Word.  It shows in how little I include God's Word in my prayers, conversations, thoughts.  I've been confronted lately with my own unbelief. I've also seen the opposite.  We meet weekly with people from our Bible Study group, Ed with the men and I with the women. Last week we were reading an article by Phillip Yancy, quotes by Tozer, Lewis, Wesley, and Grudem.  I underlined parts of all of them and was struck by their reflections and applications. Then, my friend Monica said, "I like reading what others have to say. I think it's helpful. But the Word of God is what changes hearts."  Wow!  You have to realize that Monica wasn't a believer 2 years ago, had never read God's Word, and certainly didn't know it's power. For her to know and then quote, "Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God," is evidence of God's work in her heart.   

A few weeks ago, my friend Angela came over to visit. We drank tea and talked about what she's been reading in Luke. She liked how Jesus talked about loving the poor, lame, blind. I asked her if she thought in our culture the gypsies would be included in those Jesus commanded us to love. She thought for a second and said, "Maybe."  That's a stretch for a Romanian who has been taught from birth that gypsies are beneath them.  They are liars, thieves, dirty, and uneducated.  And they can't be changed.  That's another story in itself: the gypsy culture. So,  that somehow led us to the subject of life under communism. She told me stories about waiting in line for soap and making it from pig fat when there was none.  Can you imagine that smell?!  She described what it was like in high school when every fall, all students, employees, and families were required to harvest the crops on the collective farms. She was grateful that her crop was corn and not potatoes. That was the worst, especially on the back.  They got to keep nothing and except what they could hide in their pockets, and worked for 3-4 weeks to bring in the harvest for the government.  She said that Ceaucescu asked each city head for the bushel count. They always lied. If it was 200 bushels, they said 300. Then Ceaucescu told them to bring in 500 the next year. I asked how that was possible. She said, "It wasn't. They lied every year to make themselves look better. Ceaucescu didn't really believe them, either, it just made him look good, so he went along with it."  A culture of deceit and deceit rewarded. 

 It's really hard for my American mind to imagine what they experienced, but listening to their stories helps me understand them. I asked lots of questions and she answered for about an hour. Finally, Angela said, "That's enough. I like talking about the Bible much more than Ceaucescu."  

We walked in the park yesterday, Angela and I, and stopped to eat some pastries that she bought. It was a beautiful sunny day, perfect for an outside visit. We sat, ate, talked, watched the kids on the playground. Then she pulled out her New Testament from her pocket and started asking questions about Luke. (She really likes that book.) I sat there, thanking God, that this dear friend of mine who had never really read the Bible until a few months ago, is hungry for it.  

"May the Word of God dwell richly in my heart from hour to hour. So that all may see I triumph only through His power."

Abigail

Our red-headed, almost 15-year-old sporting her new ski jacket before leaving for camp.

Today, Abigail left for ski camp. It's her first solo Romanian event, and she left excited mixed with a big dose of anxiety.  She'll also turn 15 at camp, so that's a pretty big deal. We keep shaking our heads when we think that Abi could be driving if we were in Mississippi. It's probably a good thing we're not!  

I was thinking today about our kids and thanking God for each of them, praying for them, worrying a little and then trying to turn that worry into prayer.  One of the things that I'm so thankful for is their adaptability.  I dropped Abigail off today at the home of a girl whom she'd never met before. She rode with her and her dad and 3 other girls to a place she'd never been before, a ski resort about an hour away.  She'll spend the better part of a week with strangers, who we're praying will become friends, speaking a language that we're praying will come with greater ease. That's a pretty big deal. I'm not sure I'd have done that as a 15 year old. In fact, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't.  

The other day, my dad asked me how to respond to people in Kosciusko when they ask how I am. I said, after some thought, "Grateful."  Not always, but overarchingly. And I'm learning to sacrifice thank offerings (Ps. 50). I think our kids are learning this, too. It's not necessarily fun to not have a friend group with which to hang out. It can be lonely to be at a school made up of family members. It's really challenging to relate to people in another language, especially when you don't know them.  Katy observed when filling out college applications that living in Romania has left lots of holes: no clubs, awards, or teams to fill time and a resume.  But...  I think they'd each say their lives are full.  We give thanks for the friends God's given us. For our team. For our family. For Skype that lets us keep in touch with family. For the Romanians who love us, are patient with us and include us graciously in their world. For kids who are adaptable and adventurous. 

Speaking of adventurous, Abigail, you'll notice in the picture, has colored her hair red. Enough said.

So, if you read this sometime while Abigail's at camp, please pray for her. 

Cravings

With somewhat regularity, we have people from the States asking what they can send to us that might make us smile, things we can't find here.  In the beginning, that list was really long. It has shrunk over the last couple of years, in part due to more shopping options here, (We can actually get Dr. Pepper on occasion, and I've even seen Tobasco!), partly because we've either adjusted our tastes or expectations, and also because we stocked up when the Ebbers shipped over a container. I like to think we're acclimating.  Katy has learned to make Reece's Peanut Butter Cups, which are actually pretty good. I've got a great hot chocolate recipe.  We drink our drinks without ice, eat frozen vegetables in the winter time, and have learned to make a lot from scratch.  No one's complaining and no one is starving, that's for sure.

But, still, we have cravings: for a good hamburger cooked on Big Daddy's Viking Grill, Chick-Fil- A, Krispy Kream, and Daniel even craves the Mexican restaurant in Kosciusko. They'd be pleased to know that.

So, this weekend, Ed was gone to Germany for meetings and I had a little extra time on my hands. While I don't consider myself much of a baker, I decided to try a new recipe. There's this website we discovered that has copycat recipes that really come in handy when we have cravings. For those of us who don't have ready access to Panera Bread, we found a recipe for their brocolli cheese soup. I've found pizza crust from Pizzaria Uno, and Abi once saw a recipe for Oreos, that we've yet to try. Yesterday, I made Cinnabon Cinnamon Rolls.  OK, so I'm not such a sweet tooth person, but oh my! These are divine! I could hardly stop myself from eating them, and they weren't too time consuming to make.  The recipe makes a lot and they are scrumptious!!  All we needed was a good hot cup of Starbucks to go with it.

Cinnabon Cinnamon Rolls

2 pkg yeast

1 c hot water

2/3 c sugar

1 t sugar

1 c warm milk

2/3 c butter

2 t salt

2 beaten eggs

7 c flour

Mix the water, yeast and 1 t sugar.  In another bowl, mix milk, 2/3 c sugar (I used a little less), salt, butter, eggs. Add to the yeast.  Add the flour slowly, knead 5-10 min, cover and let rise in a warm place 1-1/2 hours. Punch down. Let rest 5 min. Roll out 15" x 20".

Mix 1 c melted butter, 1 3/4 c sugar, 3 T cinnamon, 1 1/2 c walnuts chopped. Spread over dough. Roll up and pinch to seal. Cut into 16 slices.  

Coat the bottom of a 9 x 13 (or bigger if you have it) with butter. Sprinkle with sugar. Place the rolls in the pan. Let rise 5 minutes. Bake at 350 for 30-40 minutes (I left mine in longer b/c the inside wasn't quite done). 

When cool pour glaze on top:  2/3 c melted butter; 2 c powdered sugar; 2 t vanilla; 6 T hot water. Combine.

Catching up

I know you're supposed to publish a blog a day or whatever, but I've had a load of pictures to post from Christmas and New Years, and this was the only time I've had time to do it with all the computers free. We've got pictures scattered across 3 computers, so I needed access to all of them to make this work. Katy and Abi were at the gypsy market buying a skirt sworn to have been worn by Bionce', you know the singer who was in the new Pink Panther movie. The gypsy even gave Katy a deal, offering it to her for 10 RON, about 4 dollars.  Daniel had been at a sleep over with Nicholas, Jonah and Sam Hoe, and Aaron Ebbers at Nic's place, so he was tired and crawled in the hammock that he's got attached below his loft and watched hunting videos.  Ed was in the barn all day finishing, or almost finishing, the guest room. All of you who are afraid that if you visit we may stick you out there:  Fear no longer!  It is lovely! Quaint. Cozy. You'll be begging to stay out there. I'll post pictures next time.  It's been Ed's handiwork, literally. Without hunting, he's needed outlets and the barn has been a great opportunity for him to do something with his hands that is totally unrelated to the weight he carries with the rest of the work here.  So, for many different reasons, I'm grateful for the barn/guest house/cabin-uta!

Colinde

So, Romanians are really good at making their food look pretty. If I had made these salads, I might have put them in a cute bowl, but never would I have thought to make a
daisy out of a red pepper!

Katy and our friend Anushka. Anushka lives in Moldova but is a student at the
University of Transylvania in Brasov. She's studying English and French.
One of our favorite people in Romania. More on her later...

Carmina with a mouth full of chocolate and her mom, Tatiana. Florin, Tatiana's husband did all the work on the exterior of our house. They are some of our oldest friends here.

Darin with the ladies.
We're hoping one of these gals will catch his eye.
Actually, he's already being pursued by at least one.

On the Sunday before Christmas we hosted a Christmas party, inviting those who normally attend Bible Study, along with some of our other friends who don't. We sang carols, this time making sure all of the words were translated correctly. Last year we were singing, unknown to us, about angel's booties. Apparently there's only one letter difference in cursing and talking about choirs. This year, we got it right, and enjoyed carols, Scripture, and the testimonies from a few of our friends of the difference Christ's coming makes in their lives. Then we feasted.

This was our third Christmas in Romania. God has been so good in providing us with dear friends we enjoy, a wonderful team, and a purpose that makes it worth it.