Russian Reality

The flight from JFK to Moscow was pretty uneventful.  I was thrilled to see that one of my viewing options on the flight was the tv series House.  I'm not going to admit to how many hours of it I watched while crossing the Atlantic and Western Europe- that's between the Lord and I...and a few Russians ;)

When we arrived at the airport in Moscow we of course had to go through all the normal airport processes...customs, baggage claim.  From the moment we stepped off the plane, the most common question I was asked by the group was, "Are you ok?  Do you want me to go with you?"  
The most common directive I was given was, "shhhh".  

Several girls offered to see if they could walk with me through Customs but as we all got closer to the booth each one of us became hesitant of that idea.  "Just hand over your passport and don't say anything."  I took my turn with the Russian Customs official, unable to suppress my American practice of greeting the person who is about to help you (at least I remembered to greet her in Russian).  She did not return the greeting.  She took a very VERY careful look at my photo and my face to make sure we matched.  She then stamped my booklet return it and buzzed me through.  I'm pretty sure I heard a collective sigh of relief from my co-travelers behind me.    

Once through, I began laughing and talking with my new friends the way that we had been for hours since meeting up with one another.  This is when the "shushing" began.  At first I just did what they told me and lowered my voice or stopped talking altogether.  But I started to get a little annoyed when the men who were with us would make loud jokes and laugh uproariously without the slightest reprimand.  "If people know you are American, they will assume you have money..."  Pick pocketing and theft are common problems in Russia.
They also felt a need to let me know that in the airport, the government is always watching and listening.

When we had claimed all of our luggage (what a task!  2 full-size suitcases and one carry-on for each individual) we gathered as a group outside the building.  Tim, the head leader, began speaking rapidly in a tone that clearly indicated he was giving directions.  Over and over again I picked up on two words..."stay enthusiastic!"  Slav began to translate for me and told me that we were going to  send our luggage in a taxi to the train station and then head ourselves on foot to the bus station to depart for the same destination- "stay enthusiastic!"  Once we arrived at the train station we would need to move quickly with the luggage and work as a team to get it all loaded in the proper car- "stay enthusiastic!"  I quickly found out that "stay enthusiastic" meant, "don't complain, do your part, and move quickly."   

I was ready...I was SO ready!!  After 13+ hours on a plane I was so glad that we were going to be taking a jaunt on foot.  In the States I have grown accustomed to jogging 2 miles a day and, often, walking several miles in addition.  Some of the girls had already begun to talk about how tiring it was going to be, which only made my hopes for a LONG walk grow.

It didn't take long for our group of 30 to spread ourselves out by 20 yards in our pacing.  I wasn't sure if it was rude to pass the people in front of you on the path, and certainly I didn't know what direction to lead the group in, but I soon found myself with the front huddle, steering the course!

Unfortunately, the course turned out to be about half a mile.

A half of a mile we probably needed to stop 3 times on to make sure everyone was caught up.  

During this disappointing realization (that my exercise for the following 3 weeks would consist of a brisk saunter at best), "stay enthusiastic" became a whole new kind of mantra for me :)

 

On Friday evening, July 20th, about 10 hours before needing to arrive at the airport to leave for our trip, I received a text message from the leader of the trip...
"please ask everyone you know to pray...we have no visas and passports."  Our visa's had not arrived in the mail from Seattle and the chances of Delta allowing our group to fly to New York without this documentation was pretty unlikely.  As I lay in bed around 1:00am (I left myself about 2 hours of sleep before needing to get up to leave) I thought to myself, "maybe it wouldn't be so bad if the trip got canceled."  My nerves had revved up and were beginning to get the best of me.  Truly this was the first and only time that I felt in the deepest part of myself that I wouldn't be disappointed if I was unable to go.  It's a good thing the bags were packed and the ticket purchased or who knows what decision I might have made in those early morning hours.

Miraculously, with photo copies of our visas and passports, Delta airlines allowed our group to board and fly to JFK.  Some Russian friends who were joining us on the mission trip from Portland would pick up our Visas from Seattle and bring them to New York for us.

This was the beginning of the travels and little else along the way was predictable.  We had a 3 hour flight to JFK, a 10 hour flight to Moscow followed by a 14 hour train ride to Ulyanovsk, and-a few days later- a 4 hour van ride to Svetlachok (camp).

The best part of the traveling was getting to know my mission group and team members, listening to their life stories that were so different from mine.  A group of about 15 left together from Minneapolis.  At evey stop along the way we were joined by more and more people (and more and more luggage) until we were in Ulyanovsk and our group had about doubled in size.  Every team member was either from Russia, Ukraine, Latvia, Moldova, or Belarus. None of the Russian Americans I traveled with had been born in the United States and some have only been in the U.S. 4 or 5 years.  We also had some people join us from local Russian villages including a few young adults who had "graduated" from the Russian Orphanage system.    

So many of these new friends of mine were so kind as to speak to me in their best English and share their stories with me as I asked unceasing questions.  Many struggled to find the right word to communicate their thoughts and some even said to me, "I understand your question, I just don't know how to answer it in English."  Many others worked tirelessly with me to translate between myself and other group members.  I was told that the group I was traveling with was a "special group" who are particularly 'good people', willing to use both their English and Russian to communicate- both with me and with each other.
After 3 weeks I can do nothing but agree with the assessment of their goodness!

On the way to JFK and to Moscow I sat next to an early twenty-something man named MIsha who was born in Russia but had not been to his home country since he was a baby.  His family had left Russia for the United States in the  1990s because of religious persecution (the most common reason this group identified for me).  As we began our descent into Moscow, Misha's eyes lit up and he sat a bit taller than I had seen up until that point.  "We're in Russia!" he exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement.

Regina, our youngest team member at 17, was born in Moldova but has been in the United States since kindergarten and had never traveled to Russia.  I could feel her nervous and excited energy as we took our first steps together through he streets of Moscow.

Tiana, one of our desginated head chefs, had spent most of her life as a resident of Moscow before immigrating to the U.S.  She was so thrilled to be back in Moscow that I imagine she feels about the city the same way I feel about New York- she had nothing but adoration for her home town.  On our way to the train station Tiana turned to me and said, "We're in Russia now...I can do this-" she then proceeded to take the gum out of her mouth and drop it on the sidewalk.  I was unable in my 3 weeks in Russia to get used to throwing my garbage on the ground the way all the locals do.  Though finding a trash can was often a treasure hunt, some practices are just too deeply engrained to be abandoned in such a short period of time :)

At some point in Moscow we were joined by a young woman from Ukraine named Ola (by far the most difficult name for me to pronounce- apparently my 'l' is too English, not being soft enough).  Ola was soft-spoken and kind with a true servant's heart.  She was tall and beautiful and more on the athletic side that the typical Russian woman.  She was the only one who kept stride with me a few feet ahead of the rest of the often sauntering group :)  As we walked Ola asked me about story and how I came to be in Russia with this particular group.  I learned from Ola that her own mother had died from cancer when she was a late teen.  Her mother had left her with a spiritual heritage but Ola found herself very angry with God after losing both her mother and her grandmother.  But she eventually had a dream in which her mother came to her and spoke to her saying, "Ola, is this how you want to spend your life?  Don't be angry with God."  She returned to her relationship with God and has been committed to serving Him in the Ukraine and Russia.  Ola's father never believed in God and passed away suddenly from a random illness.  "I have hope," Ola told me, "because the night that my father died God awoke me from sleep and made me feel very urgent to pray for my father.  He was out of town staying with his mother in another city and I did not know he was dying.  I have hope that God spoke to him that night."

Once on the train my "bunk buddy" (the one who slep in the loft across from my) was a young, kind, and incredibly innocent young man named Vova.  Such a deep part of me wanted to crash in my loft and dream the train ride away, but Vova somewhat insisted on keeping me company :)  Vova loved that I am a teacher and had lots of questions for me.  He works as a tutor to middle school students in a private Russian school in Portland.  He is studying to be an engineer but would like to teach math one day.  Vova has a large family (I believe he is one of 7 children) and shared with me that his father was actually a criminal in Russia.  He had gotten into trouble and was serving time in a Russian prison when a minister came and told him about life with Jesus.  Vova's father "became Christian" and began receiving letters from women in the local church who wrote to encourage converted prisoners in their new faith.  Vova's father began to correspond regularly from prison with Vova's mother and he married her shortly after being released.  They now have 7 children together (Vova being a middle child) and have immigrated their family to the United States.

Of all the storytellers I encountered on this trip, my very favorite is my new friend named Slavic.  Slav and I became friends right away at JFK when he joined us from Portland and began to tell me about his terrible romantic crisis he was leaving behind in the States.  Slav is more passionate than any of the men in our group (and certainly any American man I know) and often says his emotions are misunderstood by Russian men.  He would say to me, "Shannon, you need to try this crepe...it is as sweet as my life when things are going well!"  Moments later he would say, "the air is cold...like my heart when life is not going so well for me."  Slav is actually full blooded Turkish but was born and raised in Moldova until he was 9.  In Ulyanovsk, Slav would take long, long walks with me (I was not allowed to go for a walk or run without a man) and tell me all about life growing up in Moldova- "this village reminds me so much of being a boy in Moldova," he would say.  He told me about running and hiking and fishing and climbing trees.  He told me about the time his brother picked him up and threw him onto a sheep that was passing by and how he rode it like a horse.  He told me about the day he and his friends stole a man's dog from his front yard and then sold it to someone else down the road.  And he told me how, every day, there was a gathering of gangs to fight.  "In Russia," he said, "everyone fights.  Their mind is one that says only the strongest survive.  You have to show that you are strong or you will be beat and taken advantage of for the rest of your life.  Everyone thinks this way, Shannon- kids and adults.  I hated to fight and I was always so scared...but if I didn't fight, I was going to get beat up.  Sometimes, in America, when someone is getting smart mouthed, I still have to resist the urge to fight them."  I would soon see this mindset up close and personal among the orphan children.

Slav also told me how Moldova can not boast many things- in fact, to tell a Russian you are from Moldova can be embarrassing.  "The people are very simple and not considered very smart", he told me.  "But they are good people...gentle".  And, he said, "EVERYONE grows their own grapes and makes their own wine.  Moldova has some of the best wine in the world!!"  
I hope I can taste homemade Moldova wine someday with Slav and Regina, my new Moldovian friends :)  

Wow!  What a week it has been!
It has been a bit of a circus with a three-ring show called Travel Visas, Airline Tickets, and Medical Exams.  Nothing like booking an international flight one week before departure!

As the details of the trip have SLOWLY come together I have often wondered what it is, exactly, that I am doing.  There are so many open-ended factors and questions that I still have about the trip and, under "normal" circumstances, would wonder if I should be committed to an assylum for deciding to go (or if I will need to be committed when I get back :))

But as I sent in my Visa application and received confirmation that my flight ticket had been put on reserve I remained, by and large, confident of my decision to go in the Lord.  Even now I am waiting for the travel agent to arrive at work in 30 minutes so I can purchase my reserved ticket.  It is definitely time to commit!

I sit at this computer screen and close my eyes and pray to the Lord.  I am reminded of points all along the past few months that have lead me to this place.  And I am reminded of my daily prayer:
Abba, this is YOUR trip.  I am committing all my plans to you and acknowledging you in all my ways so that you will make my path straight and guide the steps of my feet.

Looking for one last confirmation from God I have read in scripture:

DO NOT CALL CONSPIRACY ALL THAT THIS PEOPLE CALLS CONSPIRACY, AND DO NOT FEAR WHAT THEY FEAR, NOR BE IN DREAD. 
BUT THE LORD OF HOSTS, HIM YOU SHALL HONOR AS HOLY.  LET HIM BE YOUR FEAR AND LET HIM BE YOUR DREAD.  (Isaiah 8:12-13)

Though I know the context of the passage in Isaiah, that God was instructing Isaiah not to follow the ways of the people of Israel and Judah, I can't help but smile and see God's answer to my prayer for confirmation.  Russia is known for it's 'romance with conspiracy', being a culture that more readily accepts conspiracy theories as an explanation for world and national events.  

I am beginning to anticipate the difficutly it will be to serve Jesus in a country with such a dark history-one from which it is not healed.  I grow more desperate for the prayers of those here in the US who have the freedom to practice their faith, not being bound by regulations of government nor oppression of spirit.

Pray for my peace and confidence, that I will be able to do all things through Christ who gives me strength.  Pray for my faith and my knowlege of the Lord-

I am committed!        

Many of you know that I live in a pretty "fancy shmancy" Woodbury apartment that I have been enjoying quite a bit.  I have not so much been enjoying the amount of my income being put into renting a property each month.  I have decided, mostly, that I will not renew my lease when my year is up but will look for a more modest dwelling in exchange for a more modest cost.
The absolute HARDEST thing for me to consider giving up is the in-unit laundry that I have- and most of you, when I say that, give me a knowing look.

Recently, however, I was doing my daily Scripture reading and journal and was directed to read the book of Jonah.  At the end of the story, Jonah is angry that the people of Nineveh have repented (he was told by God to prophesy God's destruction against them) and that God is going to spare their lives.  As he is sitting on top of a cliff over the city, watching and pouting, God sends both a scorching heat and a plant for shade over Jonah's head.  When the plant dies, Jonah is so angry he's ready to die.  God says to him,

YOU PITY THE PLANT FOR WHICH YOU DID NOT LABOR, NOR DID YOU MAKE IT TO GROW, IT CAME INTO BEING IN A NIGHT AND PERISHED IN A NIGHT...SHOULD I NOT HAVE COMPASSION ON NINEVEH, THE GREAT CITY, IN WHICH THERE ARE MORE THAN 120,000 PERSONS WHO DO NOT KNOW THEIR RIGHT FROM THIER LEFT?

In response to this reading I asked Abba to show me "what I pity more here in the United States that is of small worth compared to the people of Russia".  It was not long before I realized how much pity I felt for myself for having to give up a washing and dryer.  I was reminded how small of a thing my convenience for doing laundry is compared to what God wants to do through me for the people of Russia- and also for those He has called me to minister to here in Minnesota. 

Since reading that passage and responding to the Lord in prayer I have been touched by several readings of a similar nature:

WOE TO YOU WHO LIE ON BEDS OF IVORY AND STRETCH THEMSELVES OUT ON THEIR COUCHES,
AND EAT LAMBS FROM THE FLOCK AND CALVES FROM THE MIDST OF THE STALL,
WHO SING IDLE SONGS TO THE SOUND OF THE HARP AND LIKE DAVID INVENT FOR THEMSELVES INSTRUMENTS OF MUSIC,
WHO DRINK WINE IN BOWLS AND ANNOINT THEMSELVES WITH THE FINEST OILS,
BUT ARE NOT GRIEVED FOR THE RUIN OF JOSEPH

and

WOE TO THOSE WHO RISE WARLY IN THE MORNING
THAT THEY MAY  RUN AFTER STRONG DRINK,
WHO TARRY LATE INTO THE EVENING AS WINE INFLAMES THEM!
THEY HAVE LYRE AND HARP, TAMBOURINE AND FLUTE AND WINE AT THEIR FEASTS,
BUT THEY DO NOT REGARD THE DEEDS OF THE LORD,
OR SEE THE WORK OF HIS HANDS

Wealth is not a a shameful thing...it is a gift, unearned.  Welath is not displeasing to the Lord, but to live without regard for the work that God is doing in the earth, and without compassion and grieving for those who have been ruined is detestable. 
As royalty of the earth,
a daughter of the world's wealthiest nation,
born without choice to a middle-class, white family,
given the opportunity to live, learn, work, and seek God,
I am becoming aware that I have no entitlement to the things I 'own'
and that I have every responsibility to care for those who have been granted less.
My prayer is that God will give me a thankful heart that results in wise and compassionate decisions that reflect His own kindness.

The days leading up for July 21st are fully of curiosity for me.  I am praying and preparing in all the ways that I know how.  It is difficult for me to imagine how God is going to provide what I need financially in such a short period of time.  

Currently I have also been asked to hold off on applying for my travel Visa by Tim.  He wants to check my reference to make sure that I am someone the church wants on the trip :)  I have not heard from him in about a week.

During my personal devotion time I have been reading through the Bible using a reading plan from a book called The Divine Mentor.  Not many days ago I reading the story of Elisha, who was sent to live in the wilderness by a brook while a drought from God ravaged the land.  God sent birds to feed Elisha each day and he drank from the brook.  The verses say that when the brook dried up, God spoke to Elisha and sent him to a widow in a village to look after him.

I have clung to the picture created in these verses.  I have visualized Elisha sitting by a brook, watching it dry up little by little, holding onto faith that God would provide.  I watch the ground turn browner and drier and see Elisha wondering how much water will even be left by the time God redirects him.  I imagine the doubt and fear he could have encountered as he maybe took less to drink each day despite his thirst.  I do not know how God is going to provide...but I have every confidence that He is able and that my life is His.  If God does not provide, I will not be able to go.  When He does provide, He will be the reason alone that I go...in more ways than one.  

The number one question that I am asked by people I share my story with is "why Russia?"  I even had a friend recently tell me that "of all the places in the world that I could be called to serve God in, Russia is probably the last place on earth I would choose."  I love the question "why Russia" and hate it all at the same time.  I hate it because I don't have a well thought answer and, without intention, tend to answer by shrugging my shoulders.  I love it, though, because my lack of a reason reminds me of the TRUE reason for it all.  If God were not doing in me the things that He is- calling me, providing for me, filling me with new desires- Russia is an adventure I would pass by.  I like to laugh and say, "I wish I had a beautiful answer about how much I love the people of Russia and how it has been life long dream to serve God in foreign missions."  I'm just not that brave or wonderful.  I timidly gave an the answer to one friend, "because I love Jesus (?)", even asking it as a question more than giving it as an answer.   After I added, "and I believe He is asking me to," she smiled and said, "Good.  Because you can love Jesus right here."

As I have begun to think about and study the history and culture of Russia I became more and more intimidated.  Russia is a far cry from the Ugandan culture that Katie Davis describes in book (Kisses from Katie).  It is not known for friendliness or atmosphere of joy.  I was even told by one of my Nebraska roommates that "when you go to Russia, do NOT smile at people. I was FREAKED OUT when I first came to the United States and everyone was smiling.  We don't do that in Russia."  

Russia has a history of repression and oppression of the people executed through incredible manipulation and fear.  Atheism dominated as a forced state policy for decades.  Alcoholism defines life for many of the people and the orphaned and abandoned children of Russia are essentially unwanted.  Over a short period of time, this reality began to have an effect on my attitude and faith.  I came to the point of verbalizing, "if there ever were a truly hopeless place, Russia has got to be it."  I began to operate in a CLASSIC Shannon mindset, telling myself 'this trip can not be about results...because you probably won't see any.  You just need to be sure of calling and cling to God."  I have a solid history of guarding myself against disappointment by keeping low expectations and visualizing mediocre outcomes.  Its just about as delightful as it sounds but has been a somewhat successful coping strategy for many years- at least in terms of living a safeguarded life.

The desire to go to Russia has remained with me all the weeks following Nebraska up until this very moment.  I have been encouraged by many scriptures, books, and sermons. 

I did NOT want to go to Nebraska.  On my weekend?  Weekends were so precious!
When I met with Tim for coffee he asked if I would be coming to Nebraska.  I asked "what will be happening at the workshop?"
He answered, "It's going to be really good.  We are bringing in four speakers..."
(I gave him a look as if I were peering over the top of spectacles) "uh, yes- all of the speakers will speak in Russian."
I asked, "I am willing to come, but is it truly going to benefit me?"
"It will.  It will.  You'll meet the people you'll be traveling with and get to know the team members."

Tim's insistance on my going was wise.  After all, if I couldn't handle 3 days in Nebraska with a group of Russians, how would I handle 3 weeks in Russia itself?

Now, I had been reading the book Kisses From Katie (see my Inspirations page) which is the story of an American college freshman who moves to Uganda by herself to minister to the children.  As I read her story, which was annoyingly upbeat ;), I kept thinking to myself, "I'll bet this is TOTALLY something you would do."  Sure enough, Katie eventually describes herself as adventurous, ambitious, and spontaneous.  Let me get one thing clear about myself:
I AM NOT ADVENTUROUS, AMBITIOUS, OR SPONTANEOUS!!
I am a bit of a home body who prefers the company of tried and true friends and family and who also struggles with a little bit of social anxiety and depression. 

Certainly, I have grown in Christ and the above description matches me less and less each year.  But, in general, an 8 hour bus trip and weekend with strangers who prefer not to speak my language would completely itimidate and exhaust me.  I was not looking forward to the weekend.

But an incredible thing happened once I determined in my heart to go.  As I drove to Shakopee on Friday night to load the 'Russian Bus' I prayed and told God, "well, I'm going.  I won't turn back.  You lead me."  As soon as I handed my suitcase to the driver and he stowed it away in the back a peace and calm and even excitement rose up within me.  These senses stayed with me the entire weekend and I can say that I truly enjoyed myself!  It was good to get to know some of the college students who were on the trip (once we got over the laguage difficulty) and get some experience with Russian culture.  I even got to practice some of my own Russian language skills while being immersed in it at the same time.  Mainly I got to practice the phrase, "I don't understand Russian" but several people complimented me on my pronunciation :)

I have just completed my 4th year of teaching and have spent every summer working between 30 and 40 hours/week.  Each year after school gets out I return to Little Beginnings Learning Center/Daycare and design and run the school-age program.  I began working at LBLC when I was in college and it has been a wonderful place to develop my teaching skills.  Last summer, however, I determined was going to be my last year as the school age teacher.  I knew that if I did not make a proactive decision to challenge myself by finding something new I would continue to return again and again.  It was time to move on and so I resigned.
That meant that around Spring time this year I had some work to do in finding a new place for summer employment.  After filling out several applications and making visits to local businesses and organizations I found myself without a single lead for employment.  At one of my small group meetings I asked the 7 ladies I meet with to pray that God would provide a job for me.  As we went into prayer that night a friend named Kelly prayed,
"Lord, help Shannon to find a job if that is what You want her to do this summer..."

My immediate thought was, 'What?  What do you mean?  What else would I do this summer?  What would God want me to do besides work?'  It sounds funny to me but I truly had not even considered that maybe there was another assignment for me.  After all, the bills don't pay themselves!  However, when Kelly prayed these words, the same sort of stirring arose in me that had occured when I had first heard the country 'Russia' spoken from the pulpit.  I began to wonder to myself if I still had Tim's contact information and if this summer might be the right time.

Within the week I found the scrawled information with Tim's name and phone number.  As I dialed the number my heart began thumping.  As the ring tones sounded in my ear my brain was shouting, "What are doing?  What are you going to say?  How are you going to explain who you are and why you are calling?"  Before my thoughts could catch up with my body Tim answered in his cell phone with a rough greeting, "This is Tim..."  I hung up the phone!  Like a school girl calling a boy, I hung up the phone!  Then I laughed out loud at myself and said, "Shannon, are you gonna' do this or are you gonna' do this?"  
Redial.

My words were not eloquent and I fumbled through describing to Tim my purpose for calling.  Nevertheless, he confirmed that the church would be traveling to Russia this Summer and that, once again, I was welcome to apply.  I made plans to attend the Shakopee church on the upcoming Sunday and meet for coffee with Tim afterwards.  "And also," he said, "if you are going to go to Russia I would really like for you to come to our workshop in Nebraska in a few weeks.  See if you can get off work."

Whoa. 
  

      
 

Mom and I were working through some difficulties when she became sick.  Among other things,  I was angry that she had not provided affirmations I needed and she was often certain that I wished I had had someone else for a mother.  The process of death sped up our reconciliation in an obvious way.  But the not so obvious way we found healing was in this:
When mom passed and I was able to envision her with Christ the Healer, who makes us whole, I was able to see the ungraciousness of my attitude towards her and ask for forgiveness for the bitterness I had held.  I was also able to forgive her and recieve the purity of the love she had for me as my mom, it being made perfect in Jesus, and the crooked ways of it made straight.

Longing to embrace her and realize our newness together in Christ I grieved deeply.  Sometimes I still cry like a very young girl who wants her momma.  But in my loss (and in God's healing) I have come to better understand the unique relationship between mother's and daughters and the privilege it is serve Jesus by holding the children in the world who are motherless.

My prayers for the children in Russia are not that I will be able in some way to fulfill their need for a mother, but that as I provide for physical and emotional needs they will find themselves created and loved by God and able to know Him- because knowing Him is how I am made whole.     

The same Winter that I first contacted Tim was also my first year of classroom teaching and I was experiencing a professional crisis, feeling SURE within myself that I had made the wrong decision in becoming a teacher. It was also a time of trial for my family as we learned some new things and struggled to communicate what we needed from one another.  This was also the Winter that my mom's breast cancer reemerged in her liver.
I began to see a counselor at that time and explored the possibility that depression may be affecting the way I was interpreting life.  My counselor helped me to take thoughtful steps each week rather than make uncalculated decisions and encouraged me to begin preparing ASAP if I was going to pursue a missions trip to Russia.  I began listening to Russian language instruction and practicing over and over again basic Russian phrases.  Surprisingly, learning the language came relatively easy to me.

Mom's diagnosis came in January 2008  and she passed away May 2nd. Her illness and death awakened me from the trans-like survival mode I had been operating in and allowed me to better process all the crises happening around me.  When mom passed, It became obviously clear that Russia would have to wait.  My grief needed time to simmer and flavor up into healing and health. 

I can not overstate the power of God and nearness of Him during those days and how that season has prepared me for the call overseas.