Sunday, November 16, 2014

October News

Hey Readers!

Just wanted you to know I have posted a newsletter to the website.  Some of this and that going on in Moscow these days.

Short version - God is good.  His blessings are enduring.  Lots of good things going on as we finish the first quarter of school and continue the work of the Lord in Bible study and church.

Got questions?  Got information?  Got a praise report?  A prayer request?  I'm good for those, too!  Just shoot me a note:  I love to hear from you to see who reads my random words.

For now, see you here, there or in the air!

God bless you!

Oh yeah - here's the link to the website:  OCTOBER NEWSLETTER

Sunday, October 12, 2014

The Right Season

I’m not one of those “everything pumpkin is a special blessing from God” people.  And I wouldn’t say autumn is my favorite time of year for many reasons, but after all the complaining is set aside, I do rather like autumn.

I like the brightness of the skies lit by a harvest moon.  I like the sunshine playing with yellow leaves hanging like golden drops of promise flying from summer’s hold.  Even the chilly rains of October are easier to endure when the walk is carpeted with orange.

The color of it all paints the world cheerfully.  I like that.

Inside, though, autumn is a sad time for me. 

My Grandma’s birthday was in autumn and I am not done missing her yet.  30 years isn’t long enough for me to stop talking about her.  “My Grandma made the best banana bread.”  “If my Grandma were here she would say she loves that!” 

It was autumn when she became sick for the first time.  Autumn when I walked to the hospital to see her after school.  Autumn when I realized I would lose her eventually.  Autumn signifies the end of my childhood. 

And so I don’t like autumn.

I know God understands this as He often places extra blessings in autumn for me so I can think on good things.  New school years start in autumn and I love that.  The leaves, as I said before, decorate the world in paintbrush fashion and I enjoy that.  After summer’s thick, musty air I breathe better in autumn.  And breathing, of course, is a good thing.

And it was autumn when He spoke to me first about going to Russia. 

I will spare you the details, but suffice to say it was on an autumn drive that I was discussing my future with God (some might say praying), when I felt absolutely certain that I was about to get direction.  I waited in anticipation.  Would my writing be picked up by a Christian publishing company and millions would be saved?  Would I somehow skip college and be a teacher who would influence poor, urban children causing them to realize their wildest dreams?  Maybe I would be a missionary to some romantic place like an island?  Oh the possibilities were endless!

I can see a much younger version of myself sitting in the Sunday School classroom.  I hear my friend’s voice repeating words that God and I had spoken of the day before.  I knew it wasn’t coincidence.  The anticipated direction was close at hand….. “Maybe God wants you to go to Russia.  Why not?”

My very spiritual, Christ-like, example-to-others reaction was to look out the window, into the sky and say, “Russia?  You’ve got to be kidding, right?” 

Now here I am 20 some years later enjoying my coffee and looking into my Moscow neighborhood.  Although I’ve not quite been here a year, this feels like home. 

Many autumns were lived between that conversation with God and today.  I find myself measuring my young woman’s expectations against my current reality.  The delay between the call and the answer is entwined in its own story of many chapters.  I often questioned.  I frequently doubted.  Toward the end of the delay I, Peter-like, denied the call when someone reminded me.  “Oh, no, I’m sure that won’t ever happen now.  That was for a different time in my life.  Not now.” 

But you know God is never late.  To Him there was no delay, no hesitation, no change of mind.  It was all right on schedule.  Looking back I can see Him training me, changing me, leading me, preparing me for this very autumn.  I wouldn’t have chosen the path which brought me here, but I’m glad for the knowledge it gave me.  There were some chapters God saw me through that I know were not His preference.   The choices and actions of others may have dragged out the plan, but the Planner didn’t change His plan for me. 

I am so glad that when I was presented with the question again, I had the right answer.  “Yes, I would be interested in teaching in Moscow.”

It’s not without personal cost to me.  I have left the young woman full of energy behind along the way.  I am a grandmother now with enough minor health problems to annoy me. Moscow exaggerates my weaknesses.  My children are grown now, which is good.  It would have been very difficult to raise children here.  But now I want to help raise my grandchildren which is impossible from this side planet.   We freeze joy in quick snapshots in an attempt to share life, but my arms are empty.  They live their daily joys and sadness without me and I miss every moment.

It’s not without cost, it’s true.  But it’s also not without extreme blessings.  Time for teaching and time for writing has opened new doors of ministry for me.  I am confident that the scriptures taught beside addition will make lasting impressions upon my students’ lives.  The older me appreciates this much more than my younger version would have. 

Yesterday I walked along an autumn lane with three of my younger colleagues.  We were given tickets to a ballet at The Bolshoi.  I love ballet!  The grace, the beauty, the strength, the romance, the story of it all!  All of my writer senses come alive in its presence. 

Grandma made sure I took ballet lessons as a child.  It’s an old friend full of lovely memories for me.  I feel the music and the little girl inside wants to twirl, leap, stretch!  For my colleagues, however, experiencing a ballet was something new. 

I watched their reactions with great interest reminded of my younger self.  I was full of words to describe the day, they were speechless.  I re-read previous chapters in my heart’s memories of other ballets.  They were making new notes on fresh pages.  It was nice to share it with them, to see it through fresh eyes again. 

Strolling with them I saw something that reminded me of my Grandma, but the melancholy was held in check by the blessing.  I find I can enjoy this autumn.  This is the day the Lord has made.  I can rejoice and be glad in it.

Sunday, August 31, 2014

New Day

Today is one of those new days. You know, the first day of . . . . whatever. They always start out a little different than ordinary, everyday days. You wake up earlier anticipating something new. Not altogether sure what the day holds, or the week or the month. Your mind is full of possibilities balanced by uncertainty.

The sun shines the same. Not really hazy, not really clear. The birds and the crickets sing the same song. The squirrels chase as if it’s a normal day, nothing new.

But to you?  It’s a new day. The first day of whatever.

Monotonous sounds are fresh today. The cacophony of a city morning  sings a little nicer today. Every chipmunk is cuter. Even the cars seem happier as they drive along to here and there leaving you behind. The train whistle blows as if to announce, “Hey!  It’s the first day!”  Even that makes you smile a little brighter.

Regardless of all that stays the same, something is definitely new in this day. It’s going to start a new season, a new path, a new direction. The air bristles with the static of hope and it charges your actions. You may wear the same clothes you wore last Monday, but they feel different. You might comb your hair in the same fashion, but it looks nicer. Your yard even seems to notice that it’s a new day and has painted a new layer of green on the grass while you slept.

Fresh, clean, clear, new.

You look for a plane in the sky with a banner that says, “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.”  You 
know it must be there. Everyone knows, don’t they? 

Today is a new day.

Revel in the hope. Drink deeply of the promise. Mark the calendar.

Today is a new day.

Monday, August 18, 2014

Summer 2014 Wrap Up

At the end of a project or an event there is always a Wrap Up Session.  It’s the time for reviewing, re-visiting, criticizing, praising, tweaking the reasons for success or failure.  On the agenda will be things like What Went Right and What Went Wrong and Ways to Improve and Things to Repeat. 

Today my brain is in Wrap Up mode.  Me and Jesus have been meeting all morning to discuss this summer’s projects and events.  Subpoints on today’s agenda under What Went Right include Deep Conversations, Meaningful Connections and Solidifying Relationships.  Under What Went Wrong in big, bold, CAPITAL letters are LESS FAT AND MORE FRUIT!  Thankfully flight weight limits will only apply to my baggage and not me.  I might be left behind. 

Truth be told, though, if joy added weight I would be extremely over every limit!  I have reveled in angelbaby kisses, stories and laughter.  I have drank deeply of friendships new and old.  I have been immersed in moments with God until my skin feels saturated.  Family and friends have poured love into me this summer and I feel valued. 

This summer is very interesting to me.  It’s as though my being away has made me realize even more the importance of people in my life.  That’s odd to someone who is alone most of the time.  For many years I drove to work alone, I lived alone, I walked alone, I shopped alone, I ate alone.  If I spent any time with anyone it was on purpose.  Apparently, those purposeful times of connection connected me with strong ties.  The kind of ties that need only an afternoon to tighten, strengthen, freshen.

The conversations I have had this summer were all over the map!  Politics, religion, overcoming deep sadness, sharing great happy moments, God talks and family memories.  Words and phrases danced around topics from every viewpoint.  It was captivating.  It was heartbreaking.  It was uplifting. It was transparent. It was real. 

Someone asked me once where I like to vacation.  I realized I didn’t have a favorite WHERE, but lots of favorite WHO to vacation with.  Time spent with someone invigorates me.  And so this summer I have VACATIONED with almost all of my favorite people.  I didn’t get to see my sister face-to-face, but we chatted randomly many times about everything and nothing.  I woke almost every morning to one angelbaby face or another.  My relationship with my daughter-in-law grew exponentially when she opened her house, and her heart, to me.  I enjoyed normal, every-day family time with my sons.  I strolled, drank coffee, shopped, pedicured, cooked, cleaned, sat in the sun with amazing friends in many different seasons of life.  We cried some, laughed some, intellectualized some. 

In conclusion I find I don’t mind being alone, but I am glad to not be alone, too.  I have looked deep into the eyes of myself through my friends’ views.  I have seen doubts removed, watched fears subside, and built courage while the summer slipped away.  Bridges were built and tended many times over.

All of this has strengthened me.  I am resolved to do more, be better, stretch further to share Jesus with someone in Moscow.  I am convinced I am compassionate enough, grace-full enough, loving enough to get the job done.  A difficult life has given me strong resources to draw from and I am ready to give. 

The summer in America is quickly wrapping up.  The hours are counting down.  I am looking forward to this school year.  Amazed by all God has privileged me to experience.  Full to bursting with happy memories. 

Ah, excuse me, back to the business at hand. 

The Chairman has a final statement:  It is determined this summer vacation project has been very successful.  We will repeat all events marked with a smile beginning next June.  Those marked with tears will be reviewed on an ongoing basis to determine advancement of healing.  Prayers of gratitude and notification of needs will be ongoing.  This meeting is adjourned.

It’s time.  Let’s write this next chapter:  Moscow – The Second Year.

Monday, July 28, 2014

Partnering Post

I am currently luxuriating in home.  Hugging a lot.  Smiling a lot.  Sleeping a lot.  Eating a lot.  Reveling in Americanisms.  It's wonderful.  But I can feel myself getting quickly saturated and know it won't be long before I am full enough and rested enough and ready enough to begin the work of Moscow again.

It's hard to have my heart in two places.  I am thoroughly enjoying my time at home. But I miss my Moscow life - my students, colleagues, church friends.  I know I'm not quite done there.

Some people have asked how they can partner with me financially in Moscow.  As an Associate in Missions with the United Pentecostal Church International, donation receipts can be provided for tax purposes.  I have added a page to my website with links to my home church in Thorp, Wisconsin where partners can send donations.  I also included a link to the United Pentecostal Church website where donations can be made online.

Equally important to finances, I need prayer cover.  Each day there is a new challenge with new opportunities to share Christ in so many ways.  Pray that I see the open doors and seize the moments I'm given.  Pray for the church to continue to grow in faith.  Pray for the International School of Tomorrow to be a place where grace and truth flourish.  Pray for peace in the Ukraine.

If you want to be included on the email list, please stop by the website and let me know.  I will gladly add you.  We are, after all, in this together.

Here's the link to the Moscow Ministry Partner page:  MOSCOW MINISTRY

I will also be speaking at two churches on August 3rd
   Calvary UPC in Bloomington, Minnesota at 10:30 a.m.
   Pentecostal Assembly in Eau Claire, Wisconsin at 6:30 p.m.

Hope to see you here, there or in the air!

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Reflections from a Writer in Moscow

It seems there is a problem in the stratosphere and I'm not currently able to update my website.  

But I really wanted to get a newsletter update to the world so I am posting it here.  It's not exactly the same voice as my blog, but I think you'll like it ok.

Let me know if you have any questions or if you'd like to partner with me for the next year in Moscow.   I know God will bless you in return.  
Reflections from a Writer in Moscow
May / June 2014
Kris A. Newman

Greetings from Moscow!

I trust that you are enjoying the same lovely spring/summer weather as we have been blessed with in Moscow.  They tell me it is unseasonably warm and I’m ok with that.  It is incredible how quickly God can change the landscape from winter to summer. 

Although the regular school session ended on May 30, we still have three weeks of summer school classes to manage before I am free to come home.  The end of the year, of course, causes me to reflect on this season of my life.  One year ago I had no intention of leaving Thorp for any reason, I enjoyed working at the law firm in Eau Claire, loved the writing assignments for 5ive for Women magazine.  My life had fallen into a very predictable pattern.

I had no idea that God was setting a new thing in motion that would change everything.  I never imagined I would be in a classroom with students from literally around the world.

I am humbled that He chose me to be here this year.  When I consider the many new friendships and connections He has provided with people from all over the world, I am humbled.  When I consider the conversations about His grace I have been able to share with honest, transparent seekers, I am humbled.  When I consider the healing I have received for my back when “just one more prayer” was prayed, I am humbled.  God has been good to me this year.  In return, I hope that I have used the right words, shown the greatest amount of love, returned good at every hand and been a vessel of honor for His glory. 

My return flight lands in Minneapolis at approximately 6:00pm on June 25th.  I have to tell you, I’m looking forward to a lot of American faces and places.  And yet, I know I’m not quite done here. 

Moscow is a hard city in many ways.  It takes a lot to build a foundation of trust.  There is a long history in this country of hurt, deceit and treachery.  It’s ingrained in their culture. To find the beauty, one must look beyond the walls, reach beyond the surface. You can’t Photoshop reality.  I have done my best to reach out and make several connections with people around the city.  They are from many facets of life.  Mostly, they want to practice their English with me and, in return, help me with my Russian.  However, I have lived long enough to know that every friendship made is an opportunity to share grace.
This point was driven home for me at Easter time.  On Good Friday we had a special devotion where the students each read a portion of the Easter story from the Children’s Bible.  As we read, we discussed what the story meant.  At the conclusion, the Sudanese Muslim girl looked at me with eyes wide, “Does that say that Jesus died for me?  For all of us?” 

I assured her that is exactly what it meant.  She became very quiet and thoughtful for the rest of the day. 

When it was time for dismissal she had one more question.  “Miss Kris, that story about Jesus, is it real or is it fake?” 

Clearly, God has sent me here for a purpose.

But, as always is the case with God, there is never only one job to be done.  I have also been actively involved with the United Pentecostal Church of Moscow and the local missionaries, the Robert Moses family.  Using my limited computer skills, I helped them create a website for the church among other sundry tasks to enhance their visibility in the community.  Due in part to this exposure, several saints from the Philippines and one from Venezuela have been added to our church family here.
As an Associate in Missions with another year-long teaching contract before me, I am excited to see what the next school year will bring.   However, this can only happen if I raise the necessary budget to cover another year on the field.  I do receive a salary from the school, but it doesn’t quite cover the cost of living in one of the most expensive cities in the world.  My budget for the upcoming year is $13,700. 

I am also in need of prayer partners.  There is no such thing as having too many people praying, and I appreciate the words of encouragement and support received more than words can say.

As we close off another Moscow month, here are the current prayer requests:

Pray for strength and wisdom for the Filipino sisters who are attending our services.  They often travel for three hours to attend service.  Their lives here are very difficult.  Often they only have one day a week off from work and it generally isn’t on Sunday.  Pray that they will be able to attend services.    
Pray for safe travels for me and my colleagues as many of us are heading out of Moscow for the summer. 
Pray for us to be able to bridge the cultural gaps as we share the Word.
Pray for my students to continue to seek God for themselves.

Thank you for everything.  Your prayers and support mean a lot to me.  There are days I feel like I’m being carried on someone else’s strength and I know it’s your prayers at work.  Drop a note to me here or through my e-mail at

Also, please visit the church website and see what’s happening in Moscow.

In His Service,

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Dreamy St. Petersburg

I have dreamt in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind. And this is one: I'm going to tell it....     Emily Bronte

The Dream of St. Petersburgh

I dreamt I took a train to an adventure. My mind was filled with all the possibilities and `'what-ifs" I had always imagined.  I expected to see beautiful things, hear musical voices, see colors and textures and life I had not known before.

The train in my dream rushed through the darkness with only the occasional disturbance.  

I awoke to find myself there, at that place, the place I had dreamed of!  Surrounded by history and meaning, I walked behind my knowledgeable guide.  She told me the story of her city.  "This is where Alexander I lived and this was Catherine's palace.  We have Nicholas's statute over here and the lighthouse over there."  We wound our way through unfamiliar comfortable streets filled with the voices of life.  

The Fortress of Peter and Paul stands chief among the buildings in this dream.  Walking through the walled city I found myself taking pictures and wondering about their story.  Who lived here?  Who walked here?  Who rested in the safety of the mamoth walls?  And Why?  What did they hide from?  I could almost feel their sense of safety, hear their hushed whispers.  

Sometimes it rained - hard, chilly raindrops forcing up the umbrellas and drawing strangers closer together.  Unexpectedly, around another corner, the sun would shine and the skies would clear.  Equally by turns it was cool and warm.  A day which couldn't make up its mind what kind of day it wanted to be.

Still we walked.  Sometimes strolling, sometimes with purpose, sometimes with crowds, sometimes without.  Always surrounded by the story.

We happened on a parade at one point.  WWII veterans and their families holding pictures of those lost in the Great War.  This city felt the cost of the war in devastating fashion.  The survivors are grateful for those who paid the price to hold the land.  They celebrate with intense pride.  The uniforms, the flowers, the pictures, the stories flowed through the street with the rain playing softly overhead.  

We stopped for coffee at another point.  Like Goldilocks we tried first this spot then that before we found a place that was just right.  Hot coffee, sweet treats, gentle conversation refreshed us both.

As we exited the last Metro I caught sight of a painting tossed on the street.  In the broken fragment I could see perfect blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds.  A building grew in the painting it's rounded turret strutting its strength against nature.  "I'm still here!"  It shouted behind the billboard tacked to its face.  "Don't let the modern facade fool you.  I have watched the gate for centuries.  I saw Napoleon and Hitler trying to take me away.  Neither Soviet rule nor winter's blizzard could change my stand.  You may paint me with advertisements or bathe my stone in whitewash.  The fact remains.  I am still here."

As I lay my head down at the end of the day, I realized it was not a dream at all.  I really did come to St. Petersburg.  I really did see, hear, taste, feel these things.  And another day awaits.
I thought I was awake, but found myself still in the dream.

Another swirl of color, sound and smells swished about me.  The sun was out now and shining brightly.  Golden domes atop fortress buildings glimmered in the horizon as I walked a new route. 

“There is Bro. Turner’s favorite bookstore.”  “There is my favorite palace.”  “There is St. Isaac’s Cathedral.”  Over and over the phrases of my friend crowded into my hearing as she tried to show me all of the best and share with me her abundant knowledge. 

Passing The Church of the Spilled Blood, a remarkable piece of architecture, I was caught by the sound of a quiet flute dancing among the trees.  Wearing black and strolling carelessly, the flutist interacted with his audience.  I drank in the peaceful sounds a moment before continuing.

“We were here yesterday.  Remember when we crossed the bridge after the parade?  That’s where we were.”  My friend stood pointing and, to my surprise, I did remember.  The bridge with the four horses prancing above beckoned us to go on.
Another dash of music surprised me upon a wall outside of a hotel.  I didn’t know the song, but gave it a passing glance to honor its existence.

Through this passage and that, winding behind and between the ancient buildings, we finally erupted into a bright square.  “Now we’re here.  There is The Hermitage.” 

Ah!  The Hermitage!  Frosted in mint and cream, the elegance was almost more than one could fathom.  To our right a spare, modernist, clean-lined building humbly held court.  Court isn’t all that it held, however.  It also held a Kandinsky Exhibit. Up a glass staircase, through a winding passageway and then there it was!  The very thing I wished to see. 

Many years ago I had received a print of the Kandinsky painting “Winter Landscape” which has hung in some manner of honor or another ever since.  The colors carried a promise for me that someday I would see the real painting, I would stand before it.  And now, here in my dream, I stood. 

“Thanks, God,” I whispered. 

But Kandinsky wasn’t the only artist present in this dream!  We gazed at Da Vinci, danced with Matisse, rested with Monet, laughed with Van Gogh and a host of many others inside The Hermitage.  Wandering through the labyrinth of rooms my heart was overwhelmed with the beauty and contrasts of expression.

Many tired hours later we were home again.  The welcoming apartment with its fresh baked chicken covered with tomatoes and mozzarella opened its doors.  Wearily we rested.  Sharing again our lives and finding so many commonalities, so many subtle differences.  Born on opposite sides of the Cold War we found kindred spirits.

Sunday dawned early, but not early enough and we quickly made our way to the train which would return me to Moscow.  Brisk steps, brisk breeze and brisk good-byes jumbled together on the platform of the waiting train.  Out of breath, I sat in my seat, closed my eyes and slept.

If you would like to see additional pictures,
 please visit my Facebook page:  Author Kris A. Newman