Watching Russian Sunsets

I enjoyed a slice of time in St. Petersburg, Russia over the New Year holidays.  On the train home, I was caught in the middle of others’ journeys.  Here is what I saw.

There were three particular Russian couples around me.  All three silver-haired men with much younger looking wives.  Not trophy wives, but younger.

One couple was actively engaged in each other.  Talking.  Smiling.  She was watching everything out the window like she had never been on a train before.  He was talking softly with her.  Precious sunset love.

Another seated in front of me did not even look at each other more than once except when she got up to use the restroom.  And then only because she had to get past him.  Otherwise she slept or looked out the window.  She simply dismissed him out of her path.  The end of the day brought a welcome dark for them.

The final couple shared movies together for the entire four hours.  He was in charge of the sound and the iPad, but they are clearly sharing.  Every once in awhile one or the other would forget their earbuds and comment very loudly about what they are watching.  They would say a few words or laugh together.  Co-conspirators oblivious to the sun or season.

The differences and similarities were interesting to me.  Each gentleman was wearing a suit coat and trousers.  No casual jeans or golf shirts for them.  All three women were wearing nice outfits.  Traveling clothes, my Grandma would call them.  “If you’re traveling, you should look like you’re going somewhere.” These people clearly followed that adage. 

I know this sense of style and carriage is very Russian, especially for the older generation.  Still, it catches me by surprise all of the time.  It takes me back to a more formal day when relationships seemed to carry more weight.  I want to respect the longevity of their love based on their appearance, but history is exposed in their movements.

I would guess the women to be in their 50s or 60s, maybe.  It’s hard to tell with the dyed hair, but their skin and style make me guess older than younger.  The men all look to be 70 something, again judging by hair and style.  I could be wrong, but that is my guess.

Their body language and physical connections tell the story of their relationships.  Regardless of life season, their love, or lack of, is evident.

The happiest man was probably the oldest.  He was the one sitting across the aisle from me.  He was clearly the kindest, the most engaged in the world around him.  I’m not saying this because he went out of his way to help me when no one else would at the start of our trip, but because of something I saw in his eyes.  It was a sense of wonder, of reaching out, of living that emanated from him.  His face was kind, his eyes smiled, he owned a gentle voice.  The woman with him was similar.  The sense of wonder in her constant tourist picture taking.  The pleasant tap of her fingers along his arm.  Peacefully the sun is setting on their journey together. 

I see the three relationships as three potential outcomes, three degrees of potential.  Those who invested in each other, those who shared laughter and those who lived separate lives beside each other.  I want to make some grand comparison between Russia and America here.  I would like to share some deep Bible revelation from this epiphany moment.  Rather, I’ll let you do that on your own. 

As for me, I’m just watching from the outside through a writer’s eyes.

Getting through the 10/40 Window

Several years ago the American Christians were very concerned about the 10/40 window.  It was a calculated view of where on the planet the fewest Christians lived and where the greatest need to share the gospel could be found.  We thought if we all just pooled our resources and really jumped into the fray we could make the biggest impact.  It’s not that we wanted to forget the rest of the world and their need to know about Jesus, but it seemed to suddenly occur to us that there was a part of the world we had forgotten. 

The 10/40 window is the part of the globe between 10 and 40 degrees north of the equator.  It stretches from Africa to Asia.  When it became a topic for discussion, it was said that 97% of the world’s unevangelized population lived in that space. 

I remember very vividly hearing a preacher preach about the need for missionaries and prayer warriors and dollars to reach into this part of the world.  I remember vividly talking to God about it.  I told Him I didn’t really want to go to those places, but couldn’t I somehow be connected?  Could my prayers matter?  Could I help someone else who was brave enough to go?  I can see my younger self looking at the map of the 10/40 window hung before me and feeling a great sense of responsibility, but having no idea how I could meet this need.  I’m just a German/Polish girl from the south side of Milwaukee, what could I do?

Many, many times after that I had deep prayer times talking with God about the children in those nations.  I didn’t know any of them, but I could see their faces.  I had no ideas what their names might be.  I couldn’t imagine their living conditions – were they comfortable like my children?  Did they have safe playgrounds in their neighborhoods? 

You must understand that I have very strong convictions about the things I believe about the Bible, but I came to those conclusions on my own from reading the Bible,

from discussing the Bible, from learning about God through strong teachers who had read and learned from the Bible.  Because of all that God has done for me, I want everyone to have the option to know God.  Whether they chose to follow Him or not is not my responsibility.  I feel that very strongly.   I am only responsible to share His Word and his goodness.  He will do the rest.  And they will make their choice.  That is my simple view of personal evangelism. 

I think that’s why I was so burdened for the people of the 10/40 Window.  It’s that I felt as if they didn’t have a choice.  They couldn’t learn about the Bible perspectives about God because the Bible wasn’t available to them.  At all.  They are Communist or Muslim countries where the Bible simply isn’t an option.  I have no idea how God will judge them. And I’m not trying to stir an argument.  In my heart of hearts I was very sad to know there were people living day-to-day without a way to know God like I do.  Maybe that sounds simplistic to you, but my views are really quite simple when it comes to religion.

It bothered me and I talked with God about it a lot.  I asked Him to help them.  I asked Him to send people to them.  I asked Him to protect those brave enough to go there.  Every time I heard of a missionary going into that field, I followed their work very closely. 

And then life happened.  A lot of it.  I got distracted from the rest of the world’s problems as I dealt with my own.  Months and years were taken off the calendar and then one day I was offered an opportunity to teach in Moscow.  I jumped at it!  All of a sudden I found myself living like a missionary with the official title of Associate in Missions and classroom teacher at an international school.

I’ve been in Moscow for two solid years now.  I’ve just begun my third school year.  The students here are from around the world.  I think the latest total is 35 countries.  In my classroom there are 25 students from 10 countries.  The classroom staff represents 3 more so in total we are 28 people from 13 parts of the world.  It’s a wonderful mix.  It’s an English language immersion program so we communicate fully in English.  For which I’m very thankful.

We use a Bible-based curriculum and talk a lot about the goodness of God.  It’s my favorite thing about being here.  I am required to teach from the Book which changed my life and talk about how it impacts my every day.  I love it. 

Many of my students are Christians, but not all.  Their parents have them at our school because of the English language.  They overlook or explain away or ignore the Bible and hope their children are not affected by it.  But they are, of course, affected by it.  It’s the Bible.  It’s the Word of God.  It will give them the tools to make their own choices about God. 

Yesterday as I was looking around the room I was reminded of the 10/40 window.  Of my 25 students, 12 of them are from eight different 10/40 countries.   If I were to include the countries of previous students, I would add four more countries to the list.  That means I have “traveled” and shared the Bible in 12 of the 10/40 countries. 

Sometimes God is almost sneaky with the way He works His plan in our lives.  I guess He is showing me now how He will use me to reach into the 10/40 Window.  Twenty years is nothing in God’s timing.  If you’re one of my prayer and financial supporters, He is using you, too.  Together we are sharing the Book that changes lives.

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:  Miss.Kris.Newman@gmail.com.  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!
Kris

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

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.

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.

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 25^th.  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 miss.kris.newman@gmail.com. 

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

In His Service,

Kris

Wait-y Words

It’s been a bit since I sat down at the computer to write on purpose.  I have done some scribbling and some rambling, but they aren’t words for sharing, just for emoting. 

I’m not sure where my serious words have gone.  I apologize for having lost track of them.  I know you are waiting to hear all about my marvelous Moscow adventures.  But the words are winding elsewhere winging away on the winter wind.

I go from here to there in Moscow surrounded by millions of people.  I am lost in a sea faces moving from one place in line to the next.  Forced to walk the pace of those before and behind and around me.  I am closer to them than to any other human being here, but without words.  We move in syncopated silence. 

I purposed to share that with you in a long short story so you can see through my eyes, but there seemed no reason for the writing.

Yesterday I sat down on purpose with a blank sheet of paper before me and started six time – SIX TIMES – to tell you something important.  But nothing important wanted to be heard.  Stumped, I closed the computer and made my way to the house of a great writer – Count Leo Tolstoy - hoping he had left some words for me.   Like a slow-moving lava, the ideas began to surface. 

But not enough to write about.  And evening turned to morning and a new day dawned.

This morning, thanks to modern technology, I saw the home going service of a patriarch of Pentecost - Bishop Frank Tamel.  In true Pentecostal fashion there was rejoicing and laughter and much, much music.  Story after story was told of the influence of this man.  Thousands of voices rose together in affirmation of the affect this life had had upon their lives. 

There, in the middle of the Pentecostalisms, in the middle of the crowd thousands of miles and hours away the words began to form.

One of the sons of the deceased told the story of how one man talked to another man who was the father of the Bishop.  Because the man and the father spoke, Bishop eventually gave his life to Jesus.  One conversation caused a chain reaction shift that changed an entire city worth of lives. 

Imagine that.  One man talking to another man offering a simple sentence of hope. 

It occurs to me that the real reason words exist is to communicate a message between persons.  I have something to tell.  You are listening to what I am saying.  If my message is mundane, you will quickly lose interest and move on to another conversation elsewhere.  When the words are hiding, it is because they think they have nothing to say.

As a Christian, as someone whose life has been changed by a message of grace and hope, my words carry an extra treasure.  No conversation, no communication, no sharing of words is ever rudimentary, it is never useless.

With that in mind, I thought again of what I have to tell you. 

Much is happening here in Moscow.  It is easy to make an acquaintance in Moscow, but not so easy to make a friend.  There is a definite distinction.  Yet, I find the grace of God creates a strong bridge easily crossed regardless of language and culture. 

I have mentioned before my classroom full of bright, curious minds.  One of them is a Muslim girl who is always quick to raise her hand to pray “In Jesus Name!”  She loves to read the Bible and to tell the stories she is learning.  Another child has asked me to write down the simple prayers we pray in class so he can teach them to his family at home.  Yet another comes to me frequently with Bible questions.  Those conversations are eternally valuable and only time will tell how many lives are affected.  I hope I don’t brush them off as incidental conversations, but see the weight they carry like the man-to-man conversation above.

My classroom is also a place where parents come to talk with me.  Sometimes we talk about their children, sometimes we talk about them.  Mothers in difficult situations have sat at my table as they tried to sort out what the Bible teaches, what does God expect of them.  I find myself struggling for words of hope.   I recall my own dark nights of the soul and dredge up the hopeful verses that shone brightly into my life.

This room is also a place of prayer.  I pray there myself, often as a means to keep balance when the students’ personalities ignite one another to mischief.  I pray there also with my colleague as we seek God’s help for problems bigger than our experience.  The joined faith of those words brings courage to us as we listen to the other.

Yes, there is much to talk about in Moscow.  It’s not that the words have escaped me.  They have just found another way to be expressed.  I hope that my words would have a lasting impact on many generations.  I hope that my faith would create a chain reaction so explosive a city’s worth of people can be changed.

I have decided that words are treasures to be spent lavishly.  If you feel you have run out of words, just wait a minute.  They will come.

Hit the Ground Running!

Hey!  Well, then, here we are!  Writing from my table in my room in Moscow.  I still have to shake my head every time I say those words.

My first week has been full. 

To begin with, I didn't realize the baggage restrictions waiting for me at the Delta gate.  After buying a bag and switching my things, I finally got myself to start hugging, crying and saying good-bye.  I was honestly fine until Arthur said, "but I don't want you to go."  Leave to an angelboy to get the tears rolling.  I'm sure by now his tears are dry, but my eyes honestly mist with the very thought of those kids. 

Not my grown kids, really.  I have iMessaged and e-mailed and chatted and discussed with them various important and inane details until I'm pretty sure we have communicated more this week than in the month prior.  Funny how that works. 

I landed on Monday to find two parties waiting for me at the airport.  I felt like a queen!  I expected to find the Moses family who offered to be there.  They are the missionary family I will be working with in whatever way my hands can find.  It's funny to me that I have prayed for them for so long and now I find myself talking to them as if I know them, but they can't possibly know me yet. 

The other party to meet me was the School of Tomorrow where I will be working.  It seems they misunderstood the message that I had a ride and thought I needed a ride and so there they were.  Two brave young women battling the roads to get me where I needed to be.  Since they were familiar with our ultimate destination, I rode home with them.  In the hour of travel it felt as though I had made two new, good friends.

The rest of Monday was spent traveling, exchanging cash (thanks to Genny Miller for cash in hand which has been a VALUABLE blessing and something I hadn't thought of), a quick tour of the school, getting into my room, finding the grocery store and meeting my flatmates, eating Burger King. 

Ah!  Yes, I was quite ready to sleep at 9:00 pm. 

I started work on Tuesday where I met the staff I would work with and the students who I am blessed with.  By the end of the day my heart was full of gratitude.  I still can't quite believe I'm here.

I see many things which have lead me to this place, confirming my appointment with destiny, as it were.  I have a lovely birch tree right outside my window - my favorite - as though planted just for me.  I can find my way around some, although I wish I knew the language better, I can get along.  I have made new friends who feel as though I have always known them.  The month I spent here 11 years ago provided me with so so much information and training I am honestly not afraid to be here alone.

God is good.

And now, finally, after almost a full week of waiting, I have the internet on my laptop!  I wanted to shout when I saw it connect.  Thanks, God!

Today I will attend an international church after making my way across the city.   I'll get you some pictures after I upload them from my fabulous camera.  For now, I just wanted to shout out to the world!

Week one down.  So far, so good.  Thanks, God!