I am continually learning. If I ever come to a place where I think I have reached perfection, then I may have missed the point of the lesson in that moment in my life. Growing up has never come without its struggles and trials. When there is a bit of “growing pain” involved in the process of learning, then I know that progress is being made.  However, when I first go through this process of learning it does not feel good, hence the word “pain”. So, my pride will flare up and my defense is at its highest, prepared for any other attack that could be on its way from the outside world. If more attacks come, then one of two things will happen: fight or flight.

When I am studying or performing certain tasks, much of my focus is centered on that task, especially when that task is necessary for one reason or another.  So, many times during class, for example, we will be reading through a text in Russian and I may mispronounce a word (this happens often). I do not know the language well at all and am still having a hard time with the grammar, but because of the” pain” of growth and being told that I am wrong my defense and temper is ready for action. Sometimes, I truly think my teacher realizes this and is ready to add one extra comment, into the midst of my mind trying to grasp around the moment of learning. This is where the character and power of God’s love comes over me and he truly allows me to keep calm and composed, through the conflict within my mind. Therefore, chaos is avoided along with avoidance of any unnecessary pain for either side of the conversation.

Another example, comes from days as a young and very imaginative boy having many adventures with my brothers and cousins. My cousin, Jerod, has always been the leader of our little squad and being the first to place imaginative instructions into our playing field. Once the first idea is placed, we are then all free to add the filling to the structure that has been set before us. However, this is a delicate situation, especially at young ages and the inability to control emotions.  If Jerod does not see the logic, he will correct that individual until everyone’s thoughts are aligned with each others’.  Both of us are close to the same age; therefore, are both willing to fight for being correct.  This is exactly what we have done many times during our games. We would fight, but not only with words, because we didn’t know many except for name-calling, but also with our fists. Soon, the atmosphere would be filled with the dust being kicked up by our wrestling selves and the words of our anger towards one another.  When all said and done, bruises, tears, and hurt feelings were all that remained from our quick-acting pride.

This is something I have been able to see time and time again, while I have been here in Russia. “I do not like being wrong”, I answered to one of my friends, “but I do not mind learning from those moments.”  I have been wrong many times, but I have also been right many times. However, it has never been my focus to point out someone else’s mistake, except by use of God’s ultimate Word that proves to be the ultimate corrector and truth for our lives. We must be slow to becoming angry and using words that will only hurt or tear down another person. Yet, we must be quick to listen and think in those instances how to help that person, or even ourselves, through understanding and truly allow the love of God to cover our lives, so as to be continually used as His witness.

Kevin S. 

I realize I have been a poor “blogger” lately and I apologize. So much has been happening in the last few weeks that I didn’t even think about sitting at my computer to write about what’s been happening in my life. I was just living it.

I’ll start off by saying that I have my bad days and, to my shame, more often than not I dwell on the moments that make some days seem harder than others. But some days I really get how much of an adventure I’m living. Trusting God is hard, but it’s so good. Sometimes I think God smiles, throws adventure my way, and watches to see whether I’ll act in faith or not. A lot of days I’m too scared to accept it. Other days I’m too tired or selfish; but every once in a while, I trust him, close my eyes, and just kind of jump. I like those times. I like them a lot—not because of anything I do, but mostly because he gives me grace enough to land on my feet when I do jump.

I spent this past week in the mountains. I was invited there as an English teacher through a program associated with the university I’m currently attending for language studies. I was invited to go on a Wednesday night. I was told on Thursday that we’d be leaving on Sunday. Initially, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go…. It was really sudden, I was feeling sick, and my roommate had the flu and couldn’t go with me. I’d be going into the mountains and living in a very small village with (quite literally) no contact with the outside world. AND, I wouldn’t know anyone there. I deliberated for the next four days on whether I would actually go. Sunday afternoon, a few hours before I actually had to leave, I chose adventure. So I threw some clothes in a backpack and walked out my door.

I don’t regret that decision. I never will.

Although this trip wasn’t “spiritual” in nature, I think God knew exactly what I needed to be reminded of His goodness. I experienced so much there. The pictures I took of the mountains don’t do their beauty any justice. I was enraptured by everything around me. I couldn’t help but marvel. There were so many cultural experiences I was able to live that I never would have known if I had stayed at home. The food was different, the culture was different, and it was the first time in my life that I was the only native English speaker around. I was the outsider, and I knew it, but the people I shared life with that week were so gracious. I taught a class to some students who barely understood English. I do not speak Russian. It was difficult and strangely fun. We hiked up mountains in below-zero weather and I rode a train through the mountains. (If you ever get the chance to take a train ride through the mountains you should definitely say yes.) There’s just something about being surrounded by imposing mountains that reminds me how small I am and how much bigger than anything I know God is.

I sometimes limit God. My imagination is pretty finite and I can only create so much, but God is so much grander than I give him credit for. I’m constantly surprised by his creativity and his love for his creation. All of it. He remains sole owner of this spinning ball of dust and water we reside and squabble over. Easter season is approaching (for us a week later than for anyone back home in the States) and I love the reminder that the creator of the earth was victor over death. Take a quiet minute to think about that—take a minute away from the Easter bunnies, the baskets, chocolates, and even Easter play preparations.…it’s been nice to not be bombarded by obnoxiously commercialized Easter decorations every time I walk into a store here. Instead, I’m reminded that I carry Easter with me everywhere I go. The hope of the Easter story is that Jesus is alive and living at the right hand of the Father in glory. He conquered the grave. Please don’t forget that Easter is more than just a weekend, or a basket full of gifts, or even a production at church. I think it was part of God’s plans for me to visit the mountains this past week, right before the Easter season, because I haven’t stopped thinking about what his sacrifice meant. He bought us with his blood and creation tells his story. We serve a risen Savior.

“Death has died, love has won. Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

Jesus Christ has overcome, He has risen from the dead!”

                                    --The Mercy Tree

Jennifer G.