The girl who makes me crazy

 She comes to me after the program to say goodbye Saturday, the girl who makes me crazy.
"Let's take a picture together,"  she says.
"Ok," I tell her and pull out my phone, kneeling down so we could be at the same level.
"No, no, no," she says, reaching for my hat. "You need to take that off."
"Oh no," I tell her - the hat stays on. We can only put our water heater on for a few hours at a time and - combined with sometimes being able to see my breath in the bathroom - that leads to not taking as many showers as I once did.
She concedes, but fixes my hat the way she thinks it should be. She is wearing the church's crazy wig and looks like a tiny rock star.
We take a picture and she tells me that her family is moving back to Greece the next day. She doesn't know if they will come back.
I suddenly feel like crying.
"I'm going to miss you," I say, and I mean it.
I'm going to miss this barely 11-year-old girl who knows how to command a room, who always tells me what I should do and what she thinks about what I am doing, who asks me to relay her requests in this sort of way: "Tell Luke to be at the church building at 9 tomorrow morning." Or "The staff needs to arrive before all the kids!"
Honestly, she's often right (though that last one is basically impossible - as much as it would be helpful). 
But it's hard to take orders from a fifth grader.
I'm going to miss her taking over the kids program when the adults stop paying attention for a moment.
I'll miss her showing up for Bible study 20 minutes early - when I'm still thinking about changing from comfy pants into nice jeans and making it impossible for me to actually do that.
A few weeks ago she was the only girl to come to Bible study and so we sat and chatted and drank tea in my living room for an hour. She told me then that her family might go back to Greece. They lived there when she was born. Maybe her dad could find work there now.
She told me then that she wasn't sure whether to follow her dad's example and be Christian (I haven't met him, but suspect he is Orthodox) or her mom's example and be Muslim.
In a place where you're born as one or the other, it would be hard to have that dichotomy.
I asked her what she believed and she said she believed in Jesus.
But she still wasn't sure what to be. "What do you think I am?" she asked me.
"It's more important what you think you are and what you choose to be," I told her - "but from what you believe, I think you are a Christian."
I'm not particularly going to miss the time several weeks before that when she told me I was arrogant for trying to lead the Bible study by myself and fought me on every step - neither of the girls who usually translate for me were able to come that day. But her silent apology in a gift of baklava a week later meant a lot to me. "You can tell me it was good at Bible study on Friday," she laughed.  
Yes, I am going to miss this girl.

 
Just when you think someone makes you crazy, you realize how much you care about them.

Whose are you?

Last week I took a public van by myself into the village to work on painting the living room in our new house there. Luke was already in the village doing the kids program, so I arrived alone on the main road and headed toward our house. As I was walking, a little old woman standing on the street was staring at me. I smiled and said to her "Hello. How are you?" She smiled back and the first thing she said was "Whose are you?"
Not "who are you?" but "whose."

Who do you belong to? 

That was a deeper question than I was expecting that day and it got me thinking. I told her that I'm married to Luke and we work with the church in the village. She asked how long I'd been there and I told her about us moving into the village soon. We chatted a little bit more. She encouraged me in my Albanian learning and went on her way. But her question stuck with me throughout the day.

Whose are you? 

She was asking me how I belonged in the village. It was one of those "one of these things is not like the other" moments for her, which is something I personally feel often. I think it's something anyone who comes to a strange place feels, particularly when there is a language barrier. But the funny thing is, I was walking through the village like I owned the place that morning and feeling an unusual amount of belonging.

Whose are you? also meant to me What right do you have to be here?

The first thing that came to my head when she asked me that was I belong to Jesus. But I thought that might be pretty confusing and might not lead to a second conversation with her, so I answered the question she was asking. Yet it was encouraging in my own soul... who do I belong to? And how do I belong here? The answer is the same: Jesus. 


 

Our progress on the painting: 

We are just renting it, but the salmon colored paint had to go.

Thankful

As the new year begins I'm going to try something called "one word." Instead of resolutions, having just one word to keep in mind for the year.

For me, that word has to be thankful. God has been pressing it on my heart for months, like an offering of salve. And I'm afraid to say, I've been pushing it away.

What do you mean, 'be thankful', God? How am I supposed to be thankful in all these hard things?

As I look over the last year, there were things that were easy to be thankful for: our wedding, my husband, and all those who helped us put the wedding together. As I moved with Luke into Albania, it was easy to be thankful for the people who are supporting us and the ministry here. We wouldn't make it without these people who believe in what we are doing. Truly I am thankful for God's provision through them. Encouraging words are another thing that it is natural, normal, and obvious to be thankful for. Who doesn't like to hear something positive? I'm thankful when I see God moving in the village, when I see lives changing. In those moments, it's easy to see that God is good.

But what about the things that are harder to find gratitude for?

I confess I held onto a lot of ingratitude in 2014.

My long awaited joys -- of being married and of being on the mission field -- held more grief than I had ever imagined. I had dreamed so long of both that I could no longer see how the combination worked. Now married and 6,000 miles from home, the view was much clearer. I had a wonderful husband and knew that this is where God led me, but I felt like I lost myself in the process. Everything I knew was different now.

Allowing bitterness to seep in around the edges, which ought to have been guarded by thankfulness, made it even harder to find things to be thankful for. And now, in hindsight, I can see how many mountains I've made of molehills.

Many people right now are living through much worse… but I'm realizing that perspective is not truly thankfulness either. It's the "eat your food, there are starving children in _(fill in the blank)__" response. It's a reality check, but it's not thankfulness.

There is legitimate grief in leaving behind my culture, my family, my friends, the privilege of worshiping God with others in my own language. But grief must be a milepost, not a destination. If I want to move through the grief and live in the light of eternity, I cannot and must not allow bitterness to continue.

Forgive me, God.

How often have I read the passages of scripture that talk about thankfulness and just skimmed the surface?

"Give thanks in all things, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus." (1 Thessalonians 5:18)
I'm not sure if I could miss that one even skimming the surface. How much time have I spent in my life asking God what His will is for me? I have to laugh now… I imagine Him shaking his head, lovingly of course, saying to me, step one Lydia… I've given you step one and marked it already with "this is the will of God" so you can't miss it. After you start practicing that one we'll move on to step two. 

It took seven years for me to arrive in Albania as a full time missionary after God called me to go to Eastern Europe. During those seven years I had so many questions about God's will… where should I go? What should I do? Did God want me to go as a single woman? Could I handle that? If not, who would want to marry someone who feels called to Eastern Europe? How is it all going to work out, God?

Through it all, God's gentle answer was simple: trust me.

And now with the where, what, when, and with whom all answered, He's challenging me to trust Him in a deeper way. With thankfulness. Why? Because "this is the will of God."

Focusing on my frustrations makes gratitude difficult. Too difficult to do a "thankfulness challenge" on Facebook. Too difficult to see past those frustrations to the real joys God has given me, some that are new in this place and some that never change: that I am a beloved child of God. That's a joy that need never grow old.

Over the past year I've felt stuck in thankfulness. Sure, I could be grateful for all the beautiful things around me and grateful for Luke who loves me even when I'm not always fun to live with.

I'm seeing now what a difference it would have made in my life last year to embrace the idea of IN all things give thanks. That's a different place to be than giving thanks FOR all things. Because if I were honest with myself, I'd see that everybody has frustrations in their lives.

Thankfulness looks at the faithfulness of God. Bitterness sets up my expectations as a god.

I know I've read this before in the Bible… about thankfulness apart from circumstances. Thankfulness as a choice. Even thankfulness as a sacrifice.

The sacrifice of praise… means the fruit of my lips giving thanks to His name. (Hebrews 13:15)
I wasn't faithful in this in 2014, but God is faithful to bring me back to the truth.

thankful

In the midst of difficulty, and in the midst of anxiety and loneliness, God's response is to bring us back to thankfulness. And that comes with a promise.

Do not be anxious for anything, but in all things present your requests to God with thanksgiving and the peace of God will fill your hearts. (Philippians 4:5)

When I need peace what I need to do is look to God and be thankful.

Not look at my circumstances. Not look at the circumstances of those around me and be thankful that at least I'm not them. But to look to God. To find my value and joy and assurance in Him, quite apart from circumstances.

I hope that 2015 will be marked by this.

So to start out a new year… I'm thankful for new beginnings.