Elledge Family Blog

The "Amazing" Connection

2012-02-15T09:51:00.001+01:00

When I was the age of Addison and Parker, words that were “cool” were: bad (meaning good), totally, awesome (best when used together with totally … as in totally awesome), bogus, spaz, chill, and to the max.

The one word I hear my girls use … and misuse … and reuse … and use again … and again … is the word “amazing”. This word is used to describe anything from a great cupcake to an experience to a person. I, trying to be above using modern catch phrases, try never to use this word in my vocabulary. However, more and more I am seeing this word in my reading of the Bible. So, I’m paying attention.

This morning as I was sipping on my totally awesome cup of coffee and having some chill time with God making use of the quiet in my house to the max, I began writing down every time the word “amazing” or any form thereof appeared in the text. It happened so often I wrote down the following:

Amazement Connection: every time ordinary people witnessed the extraordinary in normal life

To further illustrate this totally awesome concept, let me give you some examples straight out of Luke, in the new testament of the Bible, so you won’t think I’m being totally bogus.

“All who heard him (Jesus) were amazed at his understanding and his answers.” Luke 2:47

“Jesus’ parents were amazed at what was being said about him.” Luke 2:33

Then, I thought about why these experiences were so amazing. The answer is found in my definition I gave above. These were everyday people who witnessed something extraordinary in ordinary life.

I think it’s easy to read the Bible and presume that it is a historical account of things that have transpired in the past and will most likely never be repeated. However, the longer I walk with Jesus, and He shows me modern day relevance in his Word, I see pictures of how I can take what was written and apply them to my life.

What those who heard Jesus in Luke 2:47 and what Jesus’ parents in Luke 2:33 were seeing … and being amazed at … was the tangible evidence of the Holy Spirit. Now, don’t spaz out on me. I think the Holy Spirit gets a bad rap. In my upbringing, I was seldom taught about the amazing power of the Holy Spirit. Just the mention of the Holy Spirit sent chills down my spine and misty images of something very surreal came into my rather imaginative head.

It’s quite simple. The Holy Spirit made the ordinary and everyday … extraordinary … and the result was … amazing.

Recently, Addison went on a trip to Bosnia. I don’t want to say much because I’ve invited her to be a quest contributor on my blog. However, I will say … it was … in her own words ... amazing!

I’m homeschooling Libby. Two days have passed. What seemed to be a major chore has been … amazing. God has given me ability. But, the Holy Spirit has shown up in the middle of our experience and transformed this into an extraordinary experience. It didn’t happen by osmosis. I have been praying as well as many others that I would be energized and seek wisdom from the One who holds all wisdom. God has been faithful with my tiny bit of effort.

I don’t know what your corner of the world holds for you. Normal life seems to hold more mundane than extraordinary. However, if you call yourself a follower of Christ, you have a secret weapon. Here’s the deal and what I’m seeing more and more of is this: when we invite the Holy Spirit to show up in our midst … amazing things happen!

Libby's Challenges ... (are really all about me!)

2012-02-05T11:24:00.000+01:00

„Just as the disciples were able to cast out demons and heal through his power, Jesus suggests that they should be able to feed the crowd. Their reply considered only what they themselves were capable of doing. They did not consider Jesus’ power.”
NLT Study Bible, pg. 1660.

Now, I’ve never cast out a demon or healed a sickness. If I do, I’ll be sure to blog it. However, when I think about all the things God has asked me to do … given me the ability and flat out courage to do … it’s amazing! However, that seems to never come up when faced with a new challenge. All I can think of is how I am gonna get through this … how I am gonna accomplish this … how I am gonna managed this … I … I … I ….

Libby, my sweet little Libby, has had some challenges in school. When she finished Pre-K they said “You know she’s a little young for her age. You might think about keeping her back.” We sent her to Kindergarten. When she finished Kindergarten, they said “You know she’s a little young for her age. You might think about keeping her back.” We sent her to 1st grade. When she finished 1st grade here in Vienna, they said “You know she’s a little young for her age. You might think about keeping her back.” We did.

It soon became apparent that the being young wasn’t the issue; it was something more. At the beginning of 2nd grade, they said it seemed she was having issues reading. We worked harder on reading. Then, a few months back, they said they thought there were deeper issues and we should have her tested. We had her tested.

This week, I met with the awesome specialist that tested Libby. We at first thought the bi-lingual language setting was the issue. It’s not. We thought it could be various other labels. It’s not. The bottom line is I’m gonna start unofficially homeschooling her after school. I know this sounds weird, but she only goes to school until 12:00 pm 3 days a week and 1:00 pm two days a week. After my meeting with the specialist, its apparent Libby needs help. After a truck load of information and a hand full of extra materials to get me started, we are well on our way to help Libby.

As is the case with most of my life circumstances, I made it about … me. I’m so good at doing that. Before the meeting, I thought …

What if Libby gets a label? What will I tell people?
What if Libby needs extra help? What will I do?
What if __________________. What will I do?

Ugh! Are you like me? Do you sometimes make yourself sick? I look at my natural tendencies and think, “Come on woman! What is your problem? Trust God. Breath. Move forward!” After all, that’s the advice I would give someone else. Yet, when it comes down to me … I’m such a slacker and revert to what seems to come so naturally … fear!

I love the quote I gave in the beginning of this blog. It came after reading in Mark about the miracle of the feeding of the 5,000. The disciples had just come back from doing amazing things (healing, casting out demons). Then, when a little thing like hunger comes up, they seem to render themselves powerless. Jesus says, “YOU” feed them. They saw that as an affront to their abilities. They couldn’t feed them. They did not consider Jesus’ power – only their own.

Shazam! That’s me in this Libby situation. I’m looking at my own abilities … and the lack there of … and coming up short. After the meeting, it was apparent Jesus was so gently whispering to my Mother’s heart … “YOU do something to help Libby.” It didn’t take long for me to know and be excited that He could use me to help her. In what seemed to be a really long nano second, I knew that as we hashed out all the “options” of other’s trying to help Libby, I was the obvious “other”.

The really cool thing was what came after my declaration to be the “one”. The specialist said to me:

“You know I had a reading disability when I was a kid. It was my Mom who helped me to read. She was the best teacher for me.”

I gave a sweet smile of affirmation but inside I was sobbing like a baby … knowing Jesus was so good to give me the affirmation I needed to move forward. He had just fed the 5,000 in my life.

Yesterday, we sent Addison off to Bosnia for a “M” trip. Their plans were shaky as they left for their destination that had received 5 feet of snow over night, spent the night in Croatia, and still haven’t heard from them.

I am powerless to do anything. All I can do is trust the feeder of the 5,000 to do what needs to be done in this situation … and with my sweet first-born so far away.

Who is this Jesus … who feeds 5,000 … who calms a Mother’s heart? He is Jesus. He is the capable One. He is …

And me ... what about me? I am the one He loves ... is patient with ... shepherds ... talks to ... listens to ... and calls on to trust Him. Wow.

Love and Respect ... a new perspective on an age-old principle

2012-01-31T13:12:00.000+01:00

I have a friend named Jackie. Jackie is a walking resource center. You need something on ADHD, she’s got it. You need to know the metric equivalent of a ½ ounce, she’s got it. You need to know how to buy a juicer, she’s got it. You need to know where to buy a Russian Bible in a German speaking country, she’s got it. You need directions … don’t ask!

Recently during an impromptu coffee date, she mentioned the title of a book she had just finished reading, Love and Respect by Dr. Emerson Eggerichs. I tucked the information into the constant open file that is my brain and went on my way. I thought of it more for other people than for me … (such a martyr) … but then kept thinking about the book.

Fast forward to another coffee date with another friend, Carrie. Catching up on all things from kids to recipes, she mentioned something God was doing in her heart concerning her marriage. Her words resonated deep in my heart. In fact, God used her words to stick so deep into my heart … to the point that before we said goodbye, I asked her if she would keep me accountable to order the book Jackie mentioned … and another one she suggested.

Now, I am a book gal. I love reading. As a kid, I should have done more running about than reading … but books were a great escape. I love to read all kinds of books. However, I am not one that hangs her hat on every new book that comes down the literary pike. I know that lots of great people write great things! However, not every great writer has a great new principle to follow for everyone that reads it! Sometimes, it’s just a revelation that was to be imparted to that person for that time to alter their behavior or give insight to a new way of doing things … for them. It’s not meant to be a stamped copy for others to follow as “rule” and implement in their own lives.

Let me case a rabbit here. Because of the line of work my husband is in, he gets lots of new information on the latest ways of reaching people. Many, many, many of them are great resources and help a brain catch a vision for trying something new. Kudos to those kinds of things! However, just because it is in print, and just because everyone is doing it, doesn’t mean it’s something I need to do/try/worship in my life. If I am not hearing from and reading the words of my Father on a daily basis … then trying to add a human author’s guidebook for my life is a little sort sighted on my part. I’ve got to daily be investing in the relationship that matters and then add other things that He allows and desires into my life as wisdom to influence and help grow what He is already doing. Enough said. Off my soap box.

I came straight home from my coffee date with Carrie, told Chris about the books I felt God wanted me to read and ordered them straight away.

I’m reading Love and Respect. On the back of the book there is a statement that says:

A Simple Message
A wife has one driving need – to feel loved. When that need is met, she is happy. A husband has one driving need – to feel respected. When that need is met, he is happy. When either of these needs isn’t met, things get crazy.

I’ve been reading this book saying things like, “Oh that’s good!” I’ve been underlining things I want to repeat to others. I’ve been making mental notes of things I’ve seen others do and why their marriages suffer.

Then, last night, I get to put into practice the basic biblical principle this book is talking about. Wives, respect your husbands.

I’ve been sick. Now, Addison is sick. Chris lines up a doctor’s appointment for both of us. The office is in our neighborhood, a mere 5 minute walk from our place.

I am a direction girl. I have a good head on my shoulders when it comes to directions and can find my way around very well. My Chris ... generally ... isn’t. That’s why we are a good match! Knowing this about my Chris, I ask him before we leave the house if I should Google map the directions to make sure we know the way. Nope. He’s got it.

After a 5 minute walk in our neighborhood, we find no doctor’s office. After standing on the corner of an intersection, waiting for Chris to ask someone for directions, we find no doctors office. It’s cold. I’m sick. Addison is sick. “This is why I suggested I look at the directions before we left the house,” I say in a self-righteous knower of my way around tone of voice.

There. I did it. I inserted a dagger into my Chris’ Respect. He didn’t need my little sassy comment. I felt so justified in saying it. I felt it needed to be said. I wanted to say it so he would know I was right. I wanted to remind him who has the better sense of direction. Fact is … he knew all of that before I opened my mouth. It didn’t need to be said.

I could feel the impact of my hateful words the minute they tripped of my tongue. Instead of being a jerk, instead of engaging in my immature banter, he simply replied with … “I’m trying really hard here.” Ouch.

Fact is, for the last 6 days, he has been father, mother, cook, taxi, book reader, homework helper, medicine giver, all the while trying to maintain his daily work schedule. I didn’t take time to consider these facts … I just knew from my selfish point of view that he wasn’t finding the doctor’s office and I was “suffering”. That’s mature!

After trying one more office, we began the treck back to our place in hopes to start all over in finding the doctor’s office, which we successfully did just … 5 minutes in the other direction. During the treck home, my Chris walked beside me, grabbed my hand, and said he was sorry. He was sorry! It was I who needed to be sorry!

I love this man. After 20 years of marriage, I’m getting this sense that the years before this day have all been rehearsal. Now, it’s the real thing. Now it’s time to really make the days count. I’ve done what I’ve done to make this good, but now good is not enough. I want to make this … sacred. I want to be a respectful wife … to meet the needs of my husband … but to allow others to get a glimpse of glory in our marriage! God does things like that … use the humble and weak to show the glory of a real God.

So now, over the blogger network … and in front of God and everyone … I am making a statement to relearn Respect. I’ll keep you posted. Perhaps if you want the truest picture of how I’m doing … ask my Chris.

Basket Ball Uniforms ... and other spiritual lessons

2012-01-25T16:53:00.003+01:00

My girl Addison and my precious Parker are both playing basketball. They are adorable. They are the kind of girls that I looked at when I was their age and thought …

“Wow … I wish I could look as cute as they do in my basketball uniform!”

Don’t feel sorry for me. I have the pictures to prove my wish was validated.

However, they would never even presume to think they are “all that”. Their tender and sensitive hearts don’t seem to focus on how cute they look in their uniforms like their very insecure and overly sensitive mother did at their age. They are somehow settled. They are girls, don’t get me wrong. They have bad hair days and nothing looks good on me days … but more often than not those days are the exception, not the rule.

Why?

Because, I am a terrific mother.

Ok, I wondered how long you would ponder that until you realized I was totally joking!

Seriously, I believe it’s the power of words … God’s Word. Lately I feel like God has wanted to show me something new about Jesus. He has me reading in the Gospels right now. In Matthew, I began seeing Jesus as this confrontational action hero. He had such boldness (not to be confused with rudeness) to confront the religious leaders … speak truth … and tell them things that they were clearly missing the point about. For example, one time Jesus tells them they lack two things:

1. They lack knowing the scriptures.
2. They lack knowing the power of God.

He says that if they knew those two things, they wouldn’t have bothered asking him the questions they did.

You go, Jesus. That’s the way to pin them down, call it like it is, expose their religious hypocrisy! Then, as I step off the cheering pedestal I have climbed on, I hear that all too familiar voice whisper something in my heart … that place only I can recognize the tender discipline of my friend, Jesus. I hear him asking me to evaluate how much I know the scriptures … and then … if I did … how much am I seeing the power of God as a result of my belief in His word!

Shazam! I start this line of thinking that goes like this. If I know, really know God’s Word, then I’m gonna believe it in daily life, in normal circumstances, in crisis, in heartache, in joy … and if I believe God’s Word … then I’m gonna begin to see evidence of His power.

This is a picture that paints this concept very simplistically, but that’s how I roll. Simple.
This week, I had to book airline tickets. I found a great deal from a “cheap” internet website. I’m excited I got such a good deal and book the tickets. Within hours I get a notice from my credit card company saying the recent attempt at purchasing airline tickets is banned for suspicious activity. My planning little self gets stressed. Now what …

If I know what God’s Word says “be anxious for nothing, but in prayer and supplication and thanksgiving make your requests known to God, then the peace of God will overcome you” then I have a choice to make.

1. Either get over myself, quit worrying about not finding a good deal, and pray, asking God to help me and give me wisdom.
2. Worry. Stress. Freak out.

I did both. I won’t lie. However, after I choose the inappropriate alternative, I checked back into my head and heart and remembered the new thing Jesus had shown me. How would I experience God’s peace and the power if I continued to freak out?

I emailed the rather complicated response from the German travel agent to my Austrian friend. She quickly helped me ratify the situation, cancel the tickets, and clear everything up. It was simple.

I saw God’s power. The power wasn’t the uncomplicated end result. The power was that in my tendency to freak out … there was an “Ah ha” moment and the cycle stopped. Ladies and gentleman that is a miracle and the very power of God!

Now, back to my adorable basketball playing girls who look so good in their uniforms. From the beginning of their cute little lives, they have heard God’s Word about them. They have heard and learned the verse in Ephesians that says they are a masterpiece, created to do good works. If you hear something long enough you believe it! Their confidence comes from knowing who they are … masterpieces! Their confidence doesn’t come in how good they look in their basketball uniforms! That’s the power of God!

These cuties will have struggles to come in their lives. They are gonna have to make a decision just like their Momma did about the tickets. The only way they are gonna make it through life is to know God’s Word … and see His power when they choose to act on it. Good advice from a good Father.

Mary's Theology

2012-01-17T17:44:00.001+01:00

Moving boxes are unloaded, unpacked, recycled and done with! Most of the “stuff” is hung up, pulled out, folded up, stored away, or crammed into another drawer. Home sweet home!

In light of my “fixing” up the new place, there is always this tension that naws at my heart. I want to have a place people can come to. I want to have a place that displays warmth and heart. I want to make it pretty. However, I know there are lots of dollars being spent to house me here, feed me here, and keep me here. For that, I’m so very grateful.

The tension is one that keeps me humble, gives me freedom and yet keeps me enslaved to the one thought: how many will know TRUTH for having had an encounter with me? As a Mom, wife, and girl with some creative juices … “fixing” up my home is one way I can help draw others toward TRUTH by using my home as a launching pad. I think I just settled some tension in my heart by just writing that!

This week began the Eislaufen Tag (Ice skating Day) at Libby’s school. Once a week, during the winter months, the entire class takes an ice skating lesson from their very talented teacher. I’m the official shoe tier and untier, skate tightener and scarf finder for the outing. Frau Bandera leads her little ducklings of 20 members on a good 10 minute walk to the nearby Eis Halle (Ice skating Center) while I bring up the rear.

There was a little girl, we will call her “Mary”, who had no walking partner, and so poor thing got stuck with me. Earlier, like just 10 minutes earlier, I was having a little conversation with the Father about my usefulness. I wondered how He might use me … today … tomorrow … here. I wondered what my helping 20 little Austrian 2nd grade kids could do for the Kingdom. Hmm.

While we are walking, out of the blue, Mary asks me, “Do you believe in God and Jesus?” I respond by telling Mary that yes, I do believe in God in Jesus. Before I can ask her the same, she rather proudly tells me that she does not. She then proceeds to tell me that she doesn’t believe in God or Jesus because they just don’t exist. She says that her “religion” is to believe that all things have souls but there is no creator. Interesting.

Again, Mary is a 2nd grader. She is full of facts that she wants me to know about. I ask her if she shares her beliefs with her Mom or Dad. “Oh yes, my whole family believes this way.”
Mary then asks me if I believe in Mother Nature. Wondering where my little non-believing in God companion is going with this line of questioning, I ask her if she believes in Mother Nature. Of course she does. Mother Nature gives all life to plants.

While wondering why she has picked me to enlighten with her concept of the world, I decide I’m gonna do a little enlightening of my own and tell her that I believe what the Bible teaches about creation, that a holy God made all things. This doesn’t stop my little walking partner. She tells me that the Bible, too, is untrue. “It is impossible to believe that God parted the Red Sea. Those are just stories.”

She’s good … got a quick come back for everything. She tells me she believes that there was a large volcano explosion that created the whole earth. Then, just one part of the volcano dropped down in a special way to form earth. Then, Mother Nature came along and created every living thing. (And the Bible is just stories!).

“So, Mary, who created the volcano?” I ask. No answer. After a few moments of 2nd grade brain activity she says the volcano just was there. “Hmm. Well, who created Mother Nature?” I ask. No answer. After some more 2nd grade contemplation she says … “You are so silly. Mother Nature creates herself.”

There you have it. Mary’s theology in a nutshell. Mary has parents who have done a masterful job of clearly imparting their worldview to their little girl. I walk away from the whole experience wondering if I have done such a job with my 2nd grader.

There you have it. The worldview of the culture I live in. A statement of no God, no truth, no need for a creator, no need to live a life guided by principles, much less a Bible.

It’s important for me to know that my desire to make my house “pretty” has a purpose. One day I know there will be people from my culture sitting in my living room discovering who this Creator is ... and why His word is important.

It’s important for me to remember that escorting Mary to the Eis Halle has a purpose, too.

Each day is an opportunity to rub shoulders with those who do not know TRUTH. Yesterday, it was Mary.

The "Church": Social Club or Social Change?

2012-01-13T10:49:00.001+01:00

I know this is called “The Elledge Family Blog”. Usually, that’s exactly what it is … an Elledge news post of all things, well, Elledge. However, as of late, it seems God has placed a few things on my heart that need to be flushed out and given black and white status. It seems logical that the place to do this is … The Elledge Family Blog. So, with this in mind, please know the following is NOT a family report, contains no humorous reports of children’s antics, no heart-warming tales of love between me and my Chris. This is simply a reflection of the inner heart workings of me, a writer with an outlet called … The Elledge Family Blog.

The Church. I’ve heard so many definitions of this term I’m quite frankly … done. Years ago, when I heard this term, I thought of my cozy, religious bubble, the place I said out loud that I came to worship God but reality was I just came to fill up a social need that disguised itself in the form of a “church” building.

Then, somewhere along my journey, I began to look more closely at my motivation for going to this place I called “church”. What I discovered was this place was a place I thought others needed to come … others who were not religious. This slowly transformed into a deeper motivation for bringing these lost souls to this building … I wanted them to know Jesus … and come to this building called “church”.

Later, the term “church” began to transform into a word that possibly meant a place that was safe for those outsiders to come to … a place that didn’t speak quite so different, look quite so strange, or do things quite so bizarre to the casual observer. This was my “seeker church” stage that I piously felt was far above and beyond my previous “church” experiences. This “church” was friendly and inviting and allowed others to experience a non-threatening look at a religion and way of life.

Then, somewhere along the journey, God showed up. Please, please, please don’t close your brain or make a judgment against me. Yes, I do believe that in my previous steps God was involved. He, however, was not the focus or the author of my definition.

So, here I am … with possibly no definition of “church” … or possibly the best definition of “church” thus far. I don’t know … I just know there is a stirring that demands me to pay close attention. And, at the risk of sounding like a modern day prophet or freak … or both … believe the rest of those who follow Jesus need to pay attention to as well.

Acts 2:42-47 gives us a great picture of what a community of Believers in Jesus do/live/are at the core. There was that element of “church” being a place to hear the message of Jesus when Peter proclaims … “Hey … each of you must get right before Holy God and repent … and be baptized.” (OK, this was totally the C.A.E. version of the Bible … Christina Ann Elledge). But, what I keep coming to is this concept of focusing on Believers … Believers coming together to do certain things … out of their devotion to and love for God. “Church” was a community. “Church” took the form of gathering to worship. “Church” spread the message of Jesus Christ. “Church” meant that other Believers shared and cared and loved and gave.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard the following phrase. I’ve said it. If you’ve said it, let’s form a club and get t-shirts. The phrase is:

“I’m just not being fed at my church.”

My take is that you are not part of “church” as a community of Believers but you are going to a place to get needs filled and check of a holy box to make yourself feel good. Been there, done that.

What if we who say we have accepted Jesus Christ as our personal Lord and Savior stopped looking to the “church” to make us holy and good and feed us and started being the “church”? What if we looked to scripture as our model of what that looks like … say for instance the parable of the seeds in Matthew? I love the GSS (good soil seed). The GSS truly hears the message of Jesus Christ and understands God’s Word. The GSS produces a harvest of 30, 60, 100 times that of what had been planted. Hmmm. Makes me stop and wonder …

I wonder what would happen in my life if I acted like the GSS? What if I stopped looking around at the “church” … and started hearing and understanding God’s Word … and asking God to allow me to bear fruit? I wonder if that little GSS worshipped (either on Sunday morning in a little white church building or on Tuesday night in a warehouse basement) with other GSS who loved Jesus? I wonder if their enthusiasm and hope in what Jesus had done in their lives and was capable of doing in lives of others was the primary factor that allowed them to bear fruit? Was the fruit the GSS bore just other people … the outsiders … who saw such an amazing love for other GSS and other outsiders … and wanted the same thing? Hmmmm.

Are you speculating my religiousness”? Me, too. I think the “church” has been religious way too long. As I look to my America, I see numbers dropping of those who say and act like the “church”. You do a Google search. Shoot, you look in your neighborhood. But, those outsiders aren’t to blame.

Don’t send me nasty messages about a friend coming to Bunko night and hearing about Jesus. That’s great! That’s being a GSS! However, I don’t think that is the rule but rather the exception. We’ve settled for social clubs instead of social change.

In China, the “church” is persecuted. Yet, it grows … daily. For further reading and testimony about how God is using GSS in China, read The Heavenly Man or Living Water by Brother Yun.

In Acts, the “church” was new and young. Yet, it grew … daily. Acts 2 tells us that in one day, 3,000 were added.

In most countries, the “church” is dying. In my country, less than 1% has a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Yet, there are plenty of religious people and … plenty of churches.

What is going to happen to the American “church”? Where are the GSS? I fear we have become RSS (rocky soil seeds). They hear and immediately recieve the news with joy yet they don't have deep roots. They don't last long, either ... falling away as soon as they have problems ... or they are persecuted for believing God's Word.

We need the “church”. We need to live alongside others who know Jesus, read God’s Word and listen to what it tells us. We need to praise together, pray together, eat together and cry together. That’s what will draw the outsiders to a real and living God.

I’m praying that I will be a GSS. I am afraid to ask God to make me one … yet more afraid of what will happen if I don’t.

New Year, New Place

2012-01-08T12:31:00.001+01:00

Yep. It's official. We are moved into our new place. We packed personal stuff on Monday, Dec. 26th. We packed all the rest on Tuesday, Dec. 27th. Movers came on Wednesday, Dec. 28th and Thursday, Dec. 29th. And, here I sit this morning in my new place with just a small list of things to do to put the final touches on making this place our "home". We've cleaned and packed and unpacked and cleaned until our hands are red and bones are tired ... but ... it's done!

We "officially" said goodbye to our neighbors. It was such a bitter sweet thing, something I wasn't really prepared to experience. As we wiped out the last gunga (personal term of endearment for stuff unidentified, usually green, that is left in the bottom of the fridge) and closed the door for the last time of what was my home, I made the trek over to my neighbors house where she prepared me and my family a coffee.

That one cup of coffee helped me push through any sadness and move on towards an attitude of hopefulness. Sound a bit dramatic? Good. That was the intended effect. However, it is dramatic when looking at it through my lens.

American’s are friendly. We are quick to invite the paper boy in for a glass of milk, quick to offer a stranger a lift, quick to make small talk with the fellow customer in the line at Wal-Mart, quick to start a conversation in the bathroom yet slow to really reach into our emotional bank reserves and build a relationship that could potentially cost us something. Overt friendliness is a safety net that keeps us busy with lots of pretentious “relationships” and bankrupt with really deep levels of intimates.

Austrians are not that way. After living in my former flat for a few months shy of 3 years, this was the first time my neighbor invited me in for coffee.

However, one cup of coffee means that my attempts to be friendly over the fence, feed her children pretzels, offer to water her plants, hug her baby when he skinned his knee, plant flowers, show her how to dip a tortilla chip in homemade salsa, bake cookies with her daughter, speak grammatically incorrect, give a Christmas card, wave from my balcony, and … pray my guts out over her and her family wanting them to know the definition of LOVE in the form of Jesus Christ … God used as a way to penetrate her heart. It’s a sign that God is at work … and a flicker of a flame of hope that burns bright in my heart that God will use my good deeds to produce something wonderful.

Isn't it just like God to use a move, something we perceived as potentially relationship harmful, as being the single thing that catapults this relationship to the next level?! I love the super-human logic of a creative God!

We are now living a very different life from what we jokingly call our “suburb"experience of our former flat. However, it’s all city life. Now our city life is just closer to the inner city, the historical part of the city tourist scramble toward, that involves more daily contact with more humans and more public transportation.

Wien (Vienna) is divided into 23 districts. We now live in the 2nd district. What I’m about to share is information that has been passed on by my Austrian friends. If any misrepresentation of facts occurs, it is not the intention of this writer, but attributed only to my hearing or their re-telling of the facts incorrectly.

The 2nd district is the former Jewish district. Before WWII, approx. 200,000 (one neighbor say 500,000 but his wife says it's 150,000) Jews lived in this part of the city. After the War, 40,000 remained. Surrounded by the Donau River on one side and the Donau Canal on the other, the “Jewish Island” housed many famous writers, musicians, and city planners. Currently, a Jewish center, school and synagogue, now call the 2nd district home, just a few blocks from our place. It is highly secured, complete with round-the-clock video surveillance.

Just a few buildings down from my front door, there is a plaque at the base of one of the buildings. It lies in a state of memorandum to the 23 Jewish men, women and children that were taken from their homes, deported, and exterminated. It’s one of many plaques you can find in my new neighborhood.

I will pass by this building and plaque every day.

I often hear people tell me that I am “living the life” … whatever that means. From their perspective, I live in a beautiful city. It’s true. However, the call on my life (and the life of my Chris) to live in this beautiful city has such a parallel meaning to that Jewish plague I pass everyday day. A Jewish Savior has paid the ultimate price for my life. I, in humble obedience to his specific call and purpose for my life, have chosen to lay things familiar and American aside. I hope that every day, I am living in obedience and making a small difference … an intentional difference to make an impact on a society, a people, one person. Yesterday it was my neighbor.

My prayer is that many years from now it will be a movement of people that began right here … in my new apartment … just down the street from a place Jews were stripped from their freedom. May it be freedom from sin and death that comes to this same street …

Risky Business ... this news of Christmas!

2011-12-23T10:54:00.000+01:00

I have so much to tell … to relay … to convey … that one blog post could not possibly contain all that my little heart has experienced since last week’s post: Weekend Gift #3: Memory,

Parker and Addison both having winning basketball games,

Libby’s Christmas play at school, the long goodbye at the airport to my sister, baking, making and wrapping gifts

… it’s just all too much! And, since I’ve imposed upon myself a blog post only once a week, I’ve got to cram it all in to this one post! What’s a girl … a wordy girl at that … to do?

Summarize. And, as thoughts churn around in my head like visions of sugar plums from a fitting seasonal tale, one story keeps rising to the surface that does put a period to the end of the my sentence.

Last May I started meeting once a week with a language partner. She has become a friend. She is a young professional woman who is naturally beautiful, highly intelligent, rides a motorcycle and loves to gather friends. She admittedly has a problem with the politics of religion but seems to be very open to God as evidenced by her willingness and openness to begin reading the Bible with me when we meet.

In December, I proposed that we read in Matthew about the story of Jesus birth. As we read, she made the following statement that has done nothing but bounce around and echo in my heart and soul this holiday season. After reading and discussing about the historical context of the shepherds, their lowly position on the ladder of society, their reputation for being outcasts and possibly the down and out, she made the following comment:

“Don’t you think it was pretty risky of God to give this message of Jesus’ birth to the shepherds?”

Let that sink in for a few minutes. I did. As I did, I kept and keep coming to the following thought:

“Isn’t it pretty risky of God to allow me to share this message of Jesus’ to my world?”

Let that sink in for a few minutes. If you are a believing in Jesus person … insert your name here and ask yourself the same question.

Now, let me paint another picture of how this phrase settles inside me. Just yesterday my sweet Libby was an angel in her school play. She was decked out in her angel costume singing her little heart out “… and man will live forever more, because of Christmas day.”

I got her message. Her smiling face, her joy and enthusiasm, her spunky diva self proudly proclaimed her message. OK. I do admit she was probably pretty enamored by the idea that so many spectators were watching her perform (as evidenced by her, alone, bowing 2 times after the performance!) but her message was received.

No. She isn’t a real angel.
No. Her costume wasn’t authentic.
No. Her halo wasn’t stable, slipping well past her forehead and into her eyes.

But she beautifully illustrated what I’ve been intellectually contemplating by my language partner’s comment. It is a risky move to entrust humans to share the message of a Savior. And that’s the whole point.

Yes. We aren’t perfect.
Yes. We are sometime unauthentic.
Yes. We are sometimes unstable and slip far from the place of making an impact.

But we are chosen. Just as Libby was so proud to play her part as the angel, we who make commitments to follow Jesus have said yes to a call to proclaim this message of hope and peace and life eternal. It is risky. It’s so risky it makes me wonder why spread such a message this way? It’s so risky, it’s crazy. That’s how I know it’s perfect! The greater the risk of me being good at what I’m called to convey, the more God shows up … is seen in my imperfections and slipped halo … and is seen loud and clear.

Wow.

Not sure when I’m gonna post another blog. Immediately following Christmas, we begin our journey to Rembrandtstrasse … our new place. We move out December 28th … which just happens to be my Chris’ 20th wedding anniversary (to me, of course!). Hopefully internet will be up and running … but one never knows.

As you gear up for the main event … take stock of the things that really count … take joy in the fact that God takes risks … and peace in the knowledge that the biggest risk He ever took (sending his holy and perfect son to earth) was designed with you in mind.

God bless you … truly.

Crazy Journey of Obedience

2011-12-17T14:25:00.000+01:00

So for those of you who follow me on Facebook, you are painfully aware that my sister arrived this week for a 6 day trip. This is her first look into my new life in over 3 years. We cried when we embraced at the airport. My otherwise guarded reserve and culturally appropriate radar flew out the window. I bawled, embraced, and hugged her for what seemed to be a moment suspended in time … one of the most beautiful moments I’ve had in the physical realm for a really long time.

Since she has been here, we’ve shared laughter, tears, coffee, public transportation rides, more coffee, exercise, meals, and lots of new experiences for both her and me! She is different. Of course she has undergone a major life transformation in the last 8 weeks. She has started a journey towards healthy living, dropping 40 pounds and adding exercise (everyday!) to her routine. But there is a difference that time makes in a person … a difference you don’t see in the day-in-day-out experience of living close to someone. This morning, I’m reflecting on that difference … and feeling a bit … melancholy.

I just read in a friends blog the following statement that is crashing in on my world this morning:

sometimes following Jesus is a “forward-only” proposition. It is a one way trip. I can never be the person I was.

I am letting those words kinda fall and hit into my world this morning. As they linger in my spirit … I get a little sad and a little excited all at the same time and I don’t really know why.

When we chose to move to Austria, we did so with no blinders on. No one forced us and no one asked us to stay. It was a move that was right and one that was being asked of us of the Creator of the Universe. We could have stayed in our nest in Norman, Oklahoma. However, we would have done so and been disobedient. When we signed on the dotted line to move here, we knew the risks. We knew things would be hard. There would be culture shock. There would be language to learn. There would be groceries to buy. There would be urban life. We knew that coming into it.

When the culture shock came, we rode it through. When the language got tough, we pushed through. When the groceries needed to be bought, we went to the store. When urban life was a challenge, we made it through.

Then, there were the challenges no one told us about … and the ones that only our hearts know how to communicate that language of. Having my sister come to see me has been one of those challenges. I am not the same. She is not the same. We’ve both been growing over 3 years in a “forward-only” fashion, but we can’t truly see that until we are face-to-face with one another. Six days will give us a better picture of each other’s progress … and each other’s soul … until the next time we see each other.

My melancholy mood has been affected not only by my sister’s visit, but the arrival of chocolate covered pretzels. Weird. One little tin of chocolate covered pretzels can toss my emotions to every gamet of the spectrum and then land right here where I started.

Every year, without contemplation of the significance of these morsels, we have seen and eaten Chris’ Moms chocolate covered pretzels. Since day one of being in the family, these have been a holiday staple. This year, Chris’ Mom sent us a box of Christmas gifts … and tucked in the bottom of this treasure chest was a simple tin of chocolate covered pretzels. I’m begining to cry thinking about the value of these walmat covered pretzels! They are a marker … a sign … a token of home.

Then it hits me. Her hands have touched these pretzels. I know it’s corny, but only 1,000 miles or more keep me from touching her hand … but these pretzels have touched her hands! That’s the cost of following God. I can’t hold the hand of the pretzel maker whenever I want to. I can’t see the progress of my sister’s journey any more than she can see mine. It hurts. Dare I say that it even seems unfair at times? Yet, it is the reality.

For those who don’t have a clue about a call to follow Jesus … and think following a Sunday school Jesus with long hair and robes that holds children in his arms and rests on a flannel board in a classroom is who Jesus is … you are sadly mistaken. This Jesus I’ve chosen to follow came to earth in a hostile and scandalous environment. Today, my life is hard and I suffer consequence of distance and heart emptiness for my family because I’ve chosen this hard road. I cry when I miss my sister. I hold a chocolate covered pretzel way too long because I know my Shirley made it. I stare at my Christmas tree and think about all the Christmas’ that have passed. I transport myself back home.

And … you wanna know something? It’s worth it. The tears and the ache ... all worth it. Why? I can somehow identity more know with my scandalous Jesus in this environment (a place I call home yet am a foreigner) than any other place from my past. I know this call isn’t easy … or isn’t cheap. I know full-well the challenges of leaving home and loved ones. I know the pain of longing to see and touch and hold those you love “back home”. Yet I still say it’s worth it. It’s worth the journey. It’s worth the forward call. It’s worth it. I am more honest about who I am and am not and who my Jesus is and is not because of having taken the first step of the crazy journey of obedience.

For now, I’m gonna post this blog … and go hug on my sister. I’ll probably cry for no reason … and she will too. We won’t say any words … but our hearts will be speaking the same language.

Gift #2: Enthusiasm

2011-12-11T12:09:00.001+01:00

Last week, the gift was SIMPLICITY. Having had no time to gather as Elledges, we gathered! The gift was a day of baking Christmas cookies, eating a fun lunch together, watching Polar Express, celebrating Advent and drinking hot cocoa. Simple.

The biggest surprise of the day was my Chris being a creative genius! Who knew! I got to be honest. I’m the creative one … he’s all the other things. Yet, we caught him kneading the cookie dough and cutting out the shapes with such passion … we nearly flipped our Elledge girl lids. Then, if that wasn’t enough, he took such painstaking detail with his gingerbread man you would have thought him to be Michael Angelo painting his fancy roof! But, don’t take my word for it … take a gander at these photos! We just love this man!

This week, the gift was ENTHUSIAM. Before we left the house, Chris pointed out to the girls something he had read the previous day. Paul is writing and telling about the enthusiasm of Timothy … the real joy and enthusiasm he had to share the good news of the truth of Jesus Christ. He pointed out that enthusiasm isn’t a fake joy we try to muster up but rather a deep and deliberate choice to choose to be enthusiastic about the gift we have living inside of us. More on that later …

We presented the girls with an “instruction manual” that led them every step of the way to our final destination … a Weihnachts Dorf (Christmas Village).

As we arrived, they read the last instruction on the manual, the opening of an envelope that contained 10 euro for them to “enthusiastically” spend on the dinner of their choice. Should I tell you that Libby ate potato wedges, a coke and cotton candy for her dinner?

Actually, there we plenty of gifts bestowed on us that we were quite “enthusiastic” about: Addison getting to collect her first Weihnachts (Christmas) mug of the season,

Chris discovering live music,

Parker tasting her first Langos of the winter (Langos is a fried bread dripped with garlic butter …),

me tasting my first Krapfen pretzel … and the weather was unusually warm (38)!

Enthusiasm is something I could use a lot more of … truly. I’ve been reading through the events that led up to the birth of Jesus. I do this every year, trusting that God has something new and fresh for me to hang my hat on during the Christmas season. This year, I’m struck by Mary’s enthusiasm. What did she have to be enthusiastic about? Poor girl … pregnant and not married, misunderstood, almost abandoned by her soon to be hubby … yet … enthusiastic. Wow. Not only “wow” … but why?

Look at her response: “Oh how my soul praises the Lord! For the mighty One is holy and he has done great things for me.” Yes, she says so much more, but these sentences sum up her heart attitude: enthusiasm. It wasn’t based on her circumstances … it was based on a promise!

I’m gonna try to be more enthusiastic … and the only way that is gonna happen is by a deliberate choice to focus on the promises of God … and not my circumstances. Circumstances will always lie … circumstances will always bring me to doubt … circumstances will always steal my joy … and …enthusiasm! Not any more … this girls gonna make a choice … to be … enthusiastic! Enthusiasm defined: it isn’t a fake joy we try to muster up but rather a deep and deliberate choice to choose to be enthusiastic about the gift we have living inside of us.

Gift #1: SIMPLICITY

2011-12-03T14:06:00.000+01:00

My sister is making a visit for the first time to my home here in Vienna. I am so thrilled that she is going to be able to see my space, walk through my life, and experience our “normal” that will seem so foreign to her! In keeping with all things that I am … I’ve planned an itinerary for her days … all with the flexibility to ditch the plan if need be. The thing I am most looking forward to is the “being”. The times we spend around the table talking, laughing, joking, and crying. These are the things that will be so endearing in person that phone, emails and Skype cannot clearly convey.

As I’m gearing up for her visit, I’m also gearing up for our annual Elledge Christmas Experiences. Quick cliff notes for those not familiar with this tradition: instead of giving tangible gifts that end up in the bottom of the toy box … or returned … or never used, we chose a very long time ago to give “experiences”. We’ve done big … like a surprise trip to London. We’ve done simple … like nachos and a movie. The girls never know what the “experience” is gonna be. It’s always a surprise. It’s become tradition.

I’ve been racking my brain thinking about what these “experiences” are supposed to be … and I’ve come up with this idea of making every “experience” centered on one word. Tomorrow we are going to “experience” the word: SIMPLICITY. No more on that because Addison checks up on me via the Blog so “mum’s the word. However, next week I’ll fill you in!

And … speaking of simplicity … yesterday I decorated the house for Christmas. I remember days of dragging everything out of the attic and taking days to decorate every inch of the house! We had Christmas trees in every room, light up things from the Avon Christmas collection we had inherited from Chris’ Mom on every shelf, and a huge wooden manger that had to sit on the front porch that my Dad made for me one year. These tokens of my Christmas paraphernalia had special memories. They are all gone now … the tokens not the memories. We have only a small box of ornaments that I drag out of the Keller to hang on the pitiful artificial tree that mostly resembles the Charlie Brown Christmas tree. However, yesterday, as I carefully placed each ornament we’ve collected over the last 20 years of marriage (ok, almost 20 years … Dec. 28 will be our 20th Wedding Anniversary!) on the tree, I was struck by the simplicity of life. If you marked your life by the Christmas ornaments that were collected every year what an interesting tree that would make! I went from the “first Christmas together” ornament that someone inscribed our names on … to baby’s first Christmas ornament from Addison … to Parker’s wreath that features her entire face (kinda creepy) … to Libby’s reindeer she made in Kindergarten. Where has all the time gone?

After decorating the tree, I threw greenery all over the rest of the flat to give it a fun and festive feel. When I was done with the entire process, I had relived many events over 20 years of being a wife and mom … saw visions of my childhood Christmas’ past … and wondered what the next 20 years would bring and who it would add to our Elledge clan of 5. In the end it’s pretty simple: love God + love each other well = SIMPLICITY.

Thanksgiving

2011-11-27T16:50:00.000+01:00

Our Thanksgiving has been full of celebrations. Instead of going into great detail about each one, I just thought I post a few pics to tell the story for me.

Our first celebration came in the form of a 25th Anniversary Gala at the International Christian School of Vienna. The evening was held at a local mansion (high class) and traditional Thanksgiving food served Austrian style was served!

The real highlight of the evening was getting to ... dress up! I know, I'm such a dork, but how often do you get to put on your best duds and dress up? Along with the American ambassador speaking, the Vienna philharmonic quartet playing, our Addison performed with her choir! The evening was just delightful!

On Thanksgiving day, we spent the day with team mates, eating finger foods, playing 80's music trivia (which I beat Chris at ... just for the record!), and playing the game of Life! It's such a nice blessing to be able to spend an American holiday with American friends when no family is around.

Saturday was the really big day. We hosted our Austrian friends for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. They kept taking pictures of the food. They had only seen such a meal in films! It was such a great reminder of the spirit of the original feast ... strangers in a new land celebrating with new friends.

Finally, today, we celebrated with a local house church yet another traditional Thanksgiving meal. It was a mix of Austrians and Americans and it was so much fun!

Feeling really thankful to be where I am ...

A New Season

2011-11-21T08:35:00.000+01:00

"Perfect Peace"
Lyrics by Laura Story | from the album Great God Who Saves

Stay close by My side,
Keep your eyes on Me,
Though this life is hard,
I will give you perfect peace,

In this time of trial,
Pain that no one sees,
Trust me when I say,
I will give you perfect peace,

And you'll never walk alone,
And you'll never be in need,
Though I may not calm the storms around you,
You can hide in Me,

Burdens that you bear,
Offer no relief,
Let Me bear your load,
Cause I will give you perfect peace,

Stay close by My side,
And you'll never walk alone,
Keep your eyes on Me,
And you will never be in need,
Though this life is hard,
Know that I will always give you perfect peace,
I will give you perfect peace...

This song sums up my mood. There is no crisis. There is no cancer diagnosis, no hunger I cannot feed, no death. There is normal life. Normal life is sometimes hard. I may not have the cancer diagnosis, but a friend may … or even a friend of a friend … and somehow it affects me.

Right now, I’m in a season of seeing God as more than what I have … and I don’t even know what that means. I’m mystified by the verse in 1 Peter that tells us to cast all our cares on him … because he cares for us. I am dumbfounded by Psalm 17 that tells me that I can experience God’s unfailing love in wonderful ways. I am in awe that in the same chapter, I get a picture of him guarding me as He would His own eyes … and hiding me under the shadow of His wings. All the while, I’m thinking who am I that God … GOD … would take such individual and detailed care of me? That’s the beauty of being His child. He cares for us, loves us, protects us, wants us in a way that is uniquely God … and in a way we cannot put human logic to try to understand. It’s beyond us … and poured on us.

I have known for some time that those who call themselves “Christian” define that term in various degrees. Some define their label by their church attendance. Others define their label by their brand of denomination. Yet others simply rest on the fact they are born into a “Christian” nation and therefore, by default, are Christian.

I find that the older I get, my label becomes harder to define … and yet becomes simpler at the same time. I am a Christian. I decided when I was 19 years old that what the Bible said about me (I am separated from God by sin) and what the Bible said about Jesus (He is the substitute and payment for my sin to bring me to God) was true. Now, over 24 years later, that relationship has morphed and transitioned into a thing I cannot label.

Why should it sound strange for a Christian to say life is hard? It is. We deny reality if we say it isn’t. However, what I’m realizing during hard life is that my experience through the “hardness” becomes a vastly different experience because of my relationship with Jesus. Hard, with the comfort of knowing the hard has a purpose. Hard, with the comfort of knowing I am not alone … the very spirit of the living God of the universe lives inside me … guiding me. Hard, with the blessing of having perfect peace. Perfect peace … not immunity from the pain. Perfect peace means that in the middle of hard … and pain … there is a deepness of rest that cannot be labeled. That … my friends … can only come from God.

As I ease into the holiday season and prepare for a move … I sometimes think this is a season of “hard”. It might be from my perspective. Yet, on the same road I have blessings that keep me aware of God’s presence in my life: a tight hug from Libby, an email from a friend, oatmeal cookies, Andy Griffith at night with Chris, Starbucks with Parker, a text from Addison, Prozac … the list goes on. It’s the ability to even recognize the blessings that lay scattered around the road of hard like Libby’s junk in her room that make me realize God is so good. He does care for me … He guards all that is mine … He loves me.

I’ve got laundry that needs to be done, I’ve got to put my makeup on before our German tutor comes, I’ve got a whole in my sock that has been there over a year … but I’ve also got this silly computer to help me process my thoughts, a husband who is exercising downstairs to keep himself fit for our old age, and three girlies that all smooched and hugged me before heading out for school.

Stay close by My side,
Keep your eyes on Me,
Though this life is hard,
I will give you perfect peace

Back on track

2011-11-12T19:55:00.000+01:00

This week I called a friend. I had a request to make of her. The request wasn’t even for me … but for another friend. She declined my request and then proceeded to tell me why. Her response was so eloquent and focused that it has given me cause to reevaluate my recent weeks.

I have gotten a bit side-tracked by the recent and now finished apartment search. When I was normally cleaning or doing a spot of laundry, I was preoccupied by searching for an apartment. When I was normally helping Libby with homework, or searching for a new recipe to try on the rest of my family, I was lining up a time to look at an apartment. It totally got me out of my daily grind … and it’s shown me how much I like to be in the grind. The grind works for me. The grind works for my family. The grind keeps me grounded!

I’m now in regroup mode. Here it is the middle of fall and there were no cozy fall things in my house, there were no yummy fall recipes on the horizon, there wasn’t the annual fall tidy in preparation for this time of year. I know, I know … I’m sounding very “Leave it to Beaver” and I’m sure it’s not a far stretch of the imagination to imagine me wearing a dress and sporting a pearl necklace while vacuuming. Stay with me here … I’m just saying that all the things that have become routine and traditional have been set on the back burner. Now, it’s time to move them to the front and give them the proper attention they deserve!

Today, I’m back. I did a mini household cleaning. I made pumpkin applestruedel muffins. I brewed some homemade apple cider. I lit my fall candles. I sent Libby outside to gather some leaves and put them in a clear glass jar as decoration. I feel like a person. All this “out of whack”ness has just confirmed the purposes of my heart and what God has called me to do. No, I’m not saying God has called me to clean my toilet … but … He has called me to be a woman who invests in my family. He’s given me a husband to care for and children to make yummy fall food for. I spent too many years fighting all the things that call me and lure me back to my base! I’ve found my purpose, my design, my role in life. I love being the cog that keeps our family in motion. I love being the one who knows where the cinamon scented candles are and when the right time of year to begin setting them out is. I love hearing my girls oh and aw over the smell of the house when I bake pumpkin muffins.

I have friends who are CEO’s, teachers, and business owners - real women with real jobs who move and shake the world around them. I am not one of them. My world consists of keeping one family running. Today, as I unclogged the cog and set things back in motion, I am ever thankful for the sense of calling and purpose that God has poured into my heart for this “job” I have. It’s ordinary. It’s often thankless. It’s mundane. But … it’s mine … and I love it!

I'll have the "Grace and Peace" with a side order of "More peace", please!

2011-11-06T16:37:00.000+01:00

This week I had some time to kill. I had been at Libby's school, helping the 2nd graders learn fun math concepts, and had 2 hours all to myself! The same awe and holy reverence that most of my friends and family in Oklahoma experienced over their recent earthquake was similar to what I experienced in my heart over my extra time!

I walked around the mall, asking God what I should do. I felt like the order of the day was to look for a birthday gift Libby needed for an upcoming party and then to chill out at a cozy restaurant until I had to go. That's exactly what I did.

I got a salad, a mineral water, and proceeded to sit down to engage in mindless nothingness. I felt like the Lord wanted to me read my Bible I had stuck in my oversized purse before heading out that morning, so I pulled it out. Not sure where to read, I felt like 1 Peter 1 was the place to begin.

I got stuck on the first 2 verses for a really long time. My favorite place to look up Bible stuff when I don't have one is blueletterbible.org. And, since I'm not in the near vicinity of my Bible, here's a copy of 1 Peter 1:1-2 from BLB:

1Pe 1:1 This letter is from Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ. I am writing to God's chosen people who are living as foreigners in the provinces of Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia. [fn]

1Pe 1:2 God the Father knew you and chose you long ago, and his Spirit has made you holy. As a result, you have obeyed him and have been cleansed by the blood of Jesus Christ. May God give you more and more grace and peace.

As I read to whom the letter was written, I laughed out loud ... ok almost. I was in public and didn't want to draw attention to myself in my culture. This, is exactly why my inner laugh wanted to spring from my vocal cords! This was written to strangers ... foreigners ... people like me! Yes, the Bible also calls those who have made a commitment to call themselves followers of Jesus are then, strangers/foreigners, on this earth ... but this was written to people who were not from the countries they were living in ... people like me!

Then, the one thing he chooses to ask God to give these folks was ... more grace and peace. Why? That's where the "getting stuck" part kicked in. I sat at my cozy restaurant table and began to write about all the ways I, as a foreigner, have needed to either extend extra grace to others ... or how extra grace needed to be given to me. I saw how living as a foreigner has stolen my peace, tested my peace, or flat out robbed me of my peace. This was such a profound thing for me.

Perhaps the most profound thing was this ... God, Father of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the great I AM, God of heavens armies, God the Creator, ... spoke to me in my language, in a way I would understand culturally, in the middle of my foreigner status. Remarkable.

Even more remarkable? God does that with all those who call on Him from every foreign country all over the planet. Each as personal and comforting ... in their own language ... as my experience.

Let's just leave it right there for today. Get "stuck" a little and think about the ways you need more and more grace and peace ...

Pilgrimage

2011-10-25T15:31:00.000+02:00

Webster’s dictionary defines “Pilgrimage” as: a journey of a pilgrim; especially: one to a shrine or a sacred place.

As I journeyed back to the place of my birth, I felt as if I was visiting a sacred place. Time is such an odd bedfellow. It tramples memories and pasts at break-neck pace, yet the present seems to confound the amount of time that has truly passed. As I stood on soil that hypothetically could have been ground my 19 and 21 year-old parents could have trod … I felt a sacred connection to them. Past and present collided.

From my Dad’s memories, I calculated what I believe to be the house he and my Mom lived in for the first year of my life. I imagined them laughing together. In my mind’s eye, I saw my pregnant Mom walking down to the nearby pastry shop. I had visions of my Dad driving their tiny Fiat toward Vicenza, the Army base 2 hours away from their home and my birthplace. I tried to envision life 43 years ago. It was sweet … and sacred.

There is a certain truth about getting older. There is a deeper sense of who you are … and where you come from. Having never seen where I came from, it was a missing piece that I wanted to put a picture to …create a memory of … to wrap my head around. Now, I’ve done that.

I am left now with quite reflection as I pictured and empathized with my young Mom. I could physically see places she would have seen. I got to experience the vibrant hospitality of the locals. I got to drink in the culture of that quiet and charming place.

There is sacredness to seeing the place where it all began for me … and my parents. There were no lightning bolt moments, no rockets, and no fireworks. But, somehow just being there, I have a bigger picture of myself … and of my parents.

Perhaps one of the most profound things that happened to me was the day our friend, Pam, took us to a local vineyard. While there, we met several Americans who live and have lived in the area for many years. They were having a brunch with the vineyard owner and quickly extended empty chairs and plates for us to occupy. As we talked and discovered one another, they knew a very prominent local figure that was born in the same village I lived. As I exchanged some basic geographical landmarks my Dad could remember, they knew the places of which I spoke. As we were parting company, one of the older men, Don, grabbed my hand and said, “Welcome home.” It was profound. This place I never knew felt like a place of “home”. When he uttered those words, I felt so moved. My head instantly fast forwarded to a day that will someday come. One day, I will enter my true home, one that Jesus has prepared for me for a very long time. As I enter this place, I know I shall see a baby Chris and I lost, I will see my Mom, and then I know I will see my Jesus … face to face. What a deeply intense moment that will be when He grabs my hand and says to me “Welcome home.” I will finally be at a place I’ve never been but was always meant to be … I will be home. Home will be sacred … and I will be complete.

Reflecting,
Christina

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The Nile River

2011-10-16T21:46:00.003+02:00

I am stuck in “the Nile” … the river, that is. I am so amazed at how my real life is currently so parallel to the stories I am reading in Exodus. I am floored by God’s constant communication with me right now.

If you ever set foot in a church during your childhood, you know the story of Moses and his constant request of the evil Pharaoh to “let his people go.” Pharaoh is a jerk and won’t let the enslaved Hebrews leave his country. Who else would make his Pyramids? So, every time Moses asks to leave and Pharaoh gives his imposing “no” for an answer, God has an answer for Pharaoh. God’s answer comes in the form of 10 plagues. They are not pretty, each one worse than the previous.

This week, as I camped out on these plagues (no, I’m not experiencing locust infestations, giant hail bombarding my Flat or blood instead of water coming out of my facets … you know I did say my real life is currently paralleling these stories!) … I began to see something. With a little help from my handy study Bible, I found out that the 10 plagues were representative of thing the Egytians and the Hebrews revered and worshiped. With each plague, God was communicating his power over what they had put on a pedastal, deeming all-powerful. I guess God showed them who is really all-powerful!

Think about that for a while. I did. This is what I came up with. There are always gonna be plagues in my life. Right now, as we continue to look for a new Flat, I can find a list of so-called plagues that are imposing themselves on my life. The bottom line is … God is bigger, more powerful, and Lord over all these pidly plagues that stand in front of my search!

What are your plagues? I’ve had the plague of anxiety. What did God do with it? He should me that despite my body betraying itself and chemicals playing havoc with my sense of reality … He is still my peace, my calm, my rock. He turned my plague into experiencing His presence in a mighty way.

I’ve had the plague of death. What did God do with it? When my mother died too young and I was left with guest ions, God showed me that there is peace in the midst of heartache and hope in what most perceive as hopeless. Grieving gave me the opportunity to be raw before God … and find out that when I’m raw He is most real.

I’ve had the plague of cancer. What did God do with it? When my brother-in-love, Rodney, was given no hope of survivng Leukemia, God gave me a promise to trust Him for healing. Despite doctors prognosis and medical reality saying all hope was gone, God did a modern-day miracle!
I’m tempted to say bring on the plagues … but I won’t! However, when the plagues of life come … I wanna look at them as God’s way of communicating something larger. It’s an interesting perspective … one that I think I’m gonna look in to.

However, right now I'm just gonna go look for frogs in my bathtub,
Christina

The Nile River

2011-10-16T21:46:00.001+02:00

Wee ... redefined!

2011-10-09T19:55:00.000+02:00

You know you are living in another country when the following takes place ...

While volunteering at Libby's school, I overhear the English teacher, from the U.K., address her English group of students. She begins to state the following, "Children. Yesterday, the boys Lou was in total disarray. Do you know what I found all over the floor? Wee. Yes, children, there was so much Wee on the floor it was disgusting. Do you know what happens to that Wee when the boys step into the Lou? The Wee gets all over the boys slippers. Then, when the boys come into the classrooms, that Wee on the bottom of the boys slippers gets tracked into our room and onto our floor. Who wants to have Wee all over our schoolroom floor? It’s disgusting. Totally disgusting. I don’t want to find Wee on the floor of the Lou any more."

I just laughed and laughed (not out loud of course) and couldn’t help but think of “the wee little pigs” in a brand new light!! Pigs really are disgusting!!

Living in another country and finding a new place to live is quite the experience, too! As we’ve begun the process of looking for a new place to live, I’ve had to ask the following of the owner’s of potential Flats: “Do the lights come with the Flat? Is the Kitchen staying or going with this Flat?” When you move in and out of Flats here in Austria (most of Europe for that matter) people typically buy their own light fixtures. When you move into a new place, there is a wire hanging down from the ceiling with a light bulb attached. That’s where your lighting fixture gets mounted. Along the same line of thinking, kitchens are not always included in a new Flat. In fact, one Flat we looked at you have to purchase the kitchen separately. If you don’t want to buy it from the owner, they take it with them (which means dismantling it) and you have to buy another kitchen.

When looking in the want ads, the ad will say a Flat has 3 rooms. That doesn’t mean 3 bedrooms. That simply means there are a living room and 2 bedrooms. A kitchen is normally an assumed room in a Flat.

Finally, the best part of looking for Flats is the “Kabinet”. This week we found out that a Kabinet is a little room that is smaller than a “normal” room but big enough, sometimes, to be used as an office or a bedroom. We love the little Kabinet rooms!!

So, we continue our search for Flats. Our desire right now is to live in the 2nd district, which is close to the girls’ schools via public and very strategic for meeting Austrians. It’s close to the city center and would be a great place to have people come to our Flat from all over the city. We’ll keep you posted on the progress!!

Signing off ...

What a MESS!

2011-10-01T14:10:00.002+02:00

What does a hair meltdown really mean? If you are a girl, you know what I am talking about! Why is it that a bad hair day can send me in an emotional spiral that ends with me drowning in my sorrows, desiring nothing more than to devour a whole dark chocolate candy bar?

And, what is it with women and our need for security: emotional, financial, relational, and with the spaces we call our homes? I consider myself a person of foundational girth, who doesn’t bend by bad news or cry at the thought of giving up something I call mine. Yet, upon finding out that our flat is pretty much sold and we will be moving … I’m shaken.

This same emotional being that I find myself to be can also be the strictest of disciplinarians. This week I had to “lay down the law” with one of my precious offspring. As she sat on my bed wiping back tears of disappointment in herself, I continued to banter on and on about the importance of pulling herself together. She didn’t need that … or did she? No emotions were spilling out of my fountain … nope, not me. I was the strong voice of hard disciple. Really?

Then, in the same week, I have a breakfast date with my man. We had a great morning “catching up” on life, calendar, plans, and kids. I was giddy and light. I always feel pretty and thin and young when I’m on a date with my Chris. (In fact, it’s my goal to have one every other day to keep my self-esteem in check!) Remember, this was the same girl who had an emotional breakdown over hair, got set upside down by a house, laid down the law, and now … am a giggly, sappy woman in love. Wow!

I’m a mess most days. This morning … (and let’s take a little road trip here … while I tell you that I am totally loving our September! The weather is pretty much perfect! The temps are cool in the morning, warming up just enough to take your sweater off, and then cool down again in the evening. Every day we have sun. Every day I feel happy. In fact, if I was a betting woman, I’d say we’ve had more sun in September than the entire summer combined! Now … back to our original story. Thanks for taking this little trip with me!) … I’m reading in Genesis. Abraham, Jacob, Isaac … you know these guys of whom I speak. All real pillars of the bible, people you can put on your top 1o to look up to. Guess what … they were messes too!

The more I walk with God … and hear His voice above the clang of all others … I’m reminded that life is more about the contrasts and pitfalls of our own selves … and learning that God can use those, change those, redesign those things as He chooses … to make something beautiful out of … a mess.

Psalm 1 says that God watches over the path of the godly. He said godly … not perfect. Godly doesn’t mean we’ve mastered life. Godly means we we’ve mastered our pride … knowing we are a mess on our own … but a masterpiece with and in and through God.

Messy … yet a masterpiece,
Christina

A Trip Down Memory Lane

2011-09-24T17:46:00.003+02:00

Why is it that most of my childhood memories … ok … maybe adult memories as well … center around … FOOD?

This week I did some baking. This week I also shared some of my past with a new friend. Today, I mixed the two together … baked while thinking about my past. The end result … peanut butter cookies!

My Mom was a great cook. I have memories of her baking things seasonally that kicked-off a new time of year. For example, Monster cookies meant we were down for the long winter. She would have my Dad get “the big green bowl” to mix up the monster recipe. After making a few dozen for us little hungry peasants to sample, she’d tuck “the big green bowl” into the freezer until the next time. She’d make up a batch of spiced tea and hot chocolate mix, each having their designated Tupperware containers, for those cold winter nights. Dutch babies (a northern inspired soufflé kind of thing with lots of eggs) were a Saturday morning treat, reserved for cooler days. They came complete with homemade syrup. Homemade ice cream, vanilla only, from our turn crank ice cream freezer was always a summer staple. And, finally, the Pièce de résistance was cookies! Peanut butter, no bake, chocolate chip and snicker doodles were a regular cookie treat … but … the one cookie my Mom made that made my chubby little mouth water were … potato chip cookies.

Aww … potato chip cookies. I’m sure the FDA never got wind of my mother’s recipe, for if they had there would have certainly been some sort of “not safe to feed small children” warning accompanying these tasty morsels. Ingredients: sugar and lots of it, and, you guessed it … potato chips. The crowning achievement was the butterscotch chips that were added for pop of sugar.

I love my memories … and the food they center around. The best thing about the memories – no calories! However, as I bake my peanut butter cookies with my girls (and a visiting friend, Alyssa) I can’t help but wonder what little memories they are tucking into their brains while they are cramming the yummy goodness into their bellies.

Peace in the Midst of the "Freak Out"

2011-09-17T18:18:00.003+02:00

So we find out our contract on our flat will not be renewed. Our owner wants to sell our flat. At this point, unless someone with an extra 270,000 euro wants to give us a generous loan, we have to find a new place to live. We won’t be thrown out in the cold. We will have time to find a new place. We would like to stay … at least until we do our stateside assignment in July 2013, but if it sells, we’re out.

I won’t lie; I had a freak out moment. Then, as I let truth talk to my heart and brain and not my emotions, I began to contemplate. Then, a few days later, I read something brilliant that reminds me who really is in charge of my situation.

In Genesis, in the first book of the Bible, I find Abram (he later gets a name changed and is called Abraham, the father of all Jews, but right now he is still Abram) in a peculiar predicament. He’s had a long history with his nephew, Lot. They go way back. Now, after relocation and a lot of success, they are too big to live next to each other. Abram gives Lot the choice of where he wants to live. He can have luscious, green, fertile land or he can have dusty plains. Well, Lot chooses the luscious, green, fertile land. He takes his stuff and moves.

Now, this is the intensely beautiful part. The Bible says that after Lot leaves … “the Lord said to Abram” and he gives him this huge reminder that He (the Lord) will give him all the land and that he will be a blessing and the father of a nation.

God’s timing is impeccable. I love how God shows up at just the right time. Abram was human. He could have been discouraged by Lot’s choice, by Lot’s selfishness, by Lot’s inconsideration for Abram. Abram could have felt like he got the short end of the stick. Yet, God comes in and tenderly reminds him that He has not forgotten him. God knew what Abram needed. He just needed to hear from Him.

So in the midst of this little news, God has shown up, with perfect timing. I can honestly tell you that this is a journey of faith and trust. This is a timely exploration to test the condition of my heart and my faith. If I let news like this, that to me appears to be unexpected, rock my foundational beliefs about God and who he is – what’s the point in expressing faith? Faith is a blind dependence - yet a conscious one - to depend on and trust the truth of someone bigger than yourself.

Just this morning, God gave me yet another reminder of his fantastic sense of timing. In the book, “Unto the Hills” by Billy Graham, he makes the following statement: As God’s children, we are his dependents. Dependent children spend little time worrying about meals, clothing, and shelter. They assume and they have a right to, that all will be provided by their parents. Because God is responsible for our welfare, we are told to cast all our care upon Him, for he cares for us (I Peter 5:7). Because we are dependent upon God, Jesus said ‘let not your heart be troubled’. Children are not backward about asking for things. They would not be normal is they did not boldly make their needs known. God has said to his children to come boldly before the throne of grace … God is keenly aware that we are dependent upon Him and for life’s necessities.

So, my Chris and I wait, as bold children, for His answer. We would like to stay here. We have asked him for a miracle. However, if our Father desires to do something different, I already trust Him for the outcome. And, who’s to say that kind of peace isn’t the miracle we’ve asked for already answered!

Loving the timing of an intense God,
Christina

Expecting the Extraordinary!

2011-09-11T17:41:00.007+02:00

Every year I say the same thing, "Where did the summer go?" And every year there is never a resonable answer. Truth is, it just passed. Time marches on.

As I type, the older girls have just finished an afternoon of homework, Chris and I have taken naps, Libby has played with her neighbor/BFF, and routine has settled in on us like a comfortable shoe. Time marches on.

In the routine and the normal, I catch myself thinking these are the passing or ordinary days ... yet also create a lifetime of extraordinary. Enjoy the photos of another year of routine ... and another year of expecting the extraordinary!

Addicted to "What Not to Wear"

2011-09-04T16:10:00.007+02:00

I have an addiction. I blame my addiction on my Mother-in-love, Shirley. While we lived in the states, we never had cable TV. It wasn’t some moral stand we were making; we were just cheap and found we could use the money we’d spend on cable for other things … like groceries. However, when we would visit Shirley, we were exposed to the wild and wonderful world of cable television. Some of my favorite memories roaming around my head are scenes of sitting in Shirley’s living room, nice beverage in hand, watching TLC’s “What Not to Wear”.

Not familiar with the show? (Oh my … you have not truly lived until you’ve seen Stacy London and Clinton Kelly rake someone’s fashion choices over the coals. I used to think they were rude … and I will say sometimes their comments are sketchy … but they speak the truth … they just don’t always speak the truth in love!) Deserving, non-fashionable women are nominated by caring friends and/or family for a complete makeover. They are given $5,000 USDA to spend on remaking themselves and choosing appropriate and fashion forward outfits. The catch: they have to go by rules fashion guru’s Stacy and Clinton lay down AND they have to throw out their current wardrobe. They get to go to New York, receive the rules, get their clothes canned (literally … they stuff them in a trash can), shop, get a new hair-do, learn simple yet elegant make-up tips and then … at the end of the transformation … get a party to reveal their new look to those friends and loved ones who’ve had to endure their fashion mistakes in the past.

So, I’ve been spending this past weekend watching (thanks to YouTube) episodes of “What Not to Wear”. I love the tips they give.

If one has a large upper portion of your body, then you should wear a V-neck top to elongate the body, thus appearing longer and leaner.

If your want to slim a thicker thigh, get trouser jeans that are wide at the hip and carry the width all the way down the stride of the pant.

Pointy toed shoes always help a body appear longer.

Outfits should have: pattern, texture, color and shine.

Things don’t have to match but they do have to go.

Go with a few simple basics and then accessorize, accessorize, accessorize.

Stacy and Clinton walk fashion challenged individuals to take an interest in how they look, how they project themselves to the general public, and how they can find what’s beautiful in them.

I love how a simple blouse with an inset waist and an A-line skirt can make Debbie Downer smile, feel pretty, and giggle her back to the changing room to try on another outfit!

Ok, so the chances of me landing a fashion reality show on cable TV are pretty slim, however, I wanna be like Stacy and Clinton! I wanna be like them for a couple of reasons:

1. I wanna be fashion forward because it does make you feel more confident when you look good. It’s not about obsessing about your clothes and being shallow. It’s about feeling good in your skin, finding the positive about your body, and then dressing it in a way to let the world around you know you are actively engaged in the world around you. I spend way too many days hating the size of my “upper portion” and whining about the diameter of my thighs. No more! I’m gonna work with what I have … work with creating a slimmer look … be content and move on!

2. I wanna be the girl that looks at someone else, sees the best in them, and encourages them to be and live up to their full potential!

I’m reading in the book of Genesis in the bible right now. I like the way God, from the get go, made our physical bodies. He didn’t clothe us. He didn’t need to. It was pure and honest and right to be ok with our bodies and each other. However, after Adam and Eve broke God’s boundaries for them, things went terribly wrong.

Shame set in because what God had designed was sabotaged for a bite of fruit. Body image set in … they made fig leaves to clothe themselves.

What I find terribly tender is what God does next. He gives them the consequence of breaking the boundary … and then he gives them a fashion make-over. He trades in their fig leave clothes for ones made from animal skin (Who knew Eve was fashion forward in a nice leopard print skirt!) Fig leaves wouldn’t cut it in the world outside the Garden. Fig leaves wouldn’t hold up under the strain and stress of the work ahead of them. Fig leaves weren’t going to protect them from the weather.

Ok, so in my effort to tie this all together … God cares about us … all aspects of who we are. Do I need to obsess over my physical appearance? Heavens no … grow up. However, when we feel good about who we are there is a confidence and expectation that follows. I’m pretty sure Adam and Eve weren’t feeling pretty capable for the next chapter in their now difficult lives in fig leaves. However, animal skins, coupled with the love of a just Father, were what they got … and needed … and moved them forward.

Moving forward in last year’s jeans but making the most of it with some new accessorizes,
Christina

Detox Update

2011-08-27T11:54:00.004+02:00

I don’t think I’ve given a proper update about the results of my detox. In a word: success!! The first week was hard, like so hard I thought I might cry if a morsel of sugar did not touch my lips, slide down my esophagus and land in my desperate belly. However, after the first week, shazam!

In fact, I have felt so good that I started the process of decreasing my anxiety meds! After several successful weeks with no bumps in the road, I knew I was on my way out of Rx freedom. However, this week verse 29 of the same anxiety song I’ve song for years began.

Just to sum up what has been, I want to include an excerpt from my dialogue with God. I do this like uncovering a precious antiquity before a crowd of bidders at Tiffany’s … but know the words will speak volumes. These words, written through the tremors of a familiar mental earthquake called anxiety, say more …

Father,
Today I am desperate for you.
I will not fear, for you’ve taken away the fear of the anxiety.
I will walk through this because of your unfailing love for me. You have not nor will you fail me.
When I cannot feel the path laid out before me – I will trust in you.
When my body betrays me – I will trust in you.
When I want to run from you, I will run all the faster toward you.
Take my hand …
Take my heart …
Take me …
And lead me …
And let your unfailing love do its work in my heart and mind and body today.
I love you.

That was on Monday, August 22. Today … Saturday … all is OK. I jumped back on the meds, took a little down time, cried a few tears on the shoulder of my Chris, and was quiet. The storm passed. Nothing changed … yet everything changed.

I tell you this … I write this… so you will not pity me. How can I be pitied for what I gain through each battle? How can I be pitied for being drawn to the renewed point of knowing Jesus is all I need? I’ll say it again and again – anxiety is a gift. It keeps me from being less dependent on me and ever dependant on God.

Two days after my heart cry … perhaps battle cry … I read the following: “For since the world began, no ear has heard and no eye has seen a God like you, who works for those who wait for him.”

During this week, my sweet Addison sent the following link to me. I didn’t listen to it until today. The words are true. Weak people need a strong God. It is not a sign of weakness to put your faith in a big God who has all the answers. Try to be all you need and you will come up short … and empty … and discouraged all the time. Turn it over … let it go … take a chance of the God who spoke unknown universes into creation yet knows the very numbers of hair on your head.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifeJRC5lvhs&feature=youtu

Forever His ...
Christina

Decaf on the Terrace

2011-08-27T11:33:00.001+02:00

The weekend of August 14 I took a personal retreat. My plan was open-ended. I just wanted to be away, by myself, and have God show up in a fresh, new way.

I’ve been on a journey with Jesus since I was 19 years old. (I just turned 43 so you do the math. I’ve gone through stages during these years. Some stages were about me falling in love with this Savior stranger. Some stages were me seeing the power spoken and written in his letters to me through the Bible. Some stages were silence – and me doubting his love. Some stages were brass bands marching through my soul – and me confidently knowing who He is.

Through every stage, there was always a lesson. And, with every lesson, there was a deeper understanding of this God I couldn’t contain in a box.

My weekend proved to be another revelation of who He is … and is not. For just a few hours, on the terrace of an upscale hotel in Budapest, I met God again. It wasn’t like our daily encounters. It was more like a brunch – on a lazy Saturday morning – with an easy agenda.

During the course of our lazy morning, I heard him speak softly about matters close to my heart … and felt the quite confidence that all was in His hands. I heard him speak softly about who I am … and am not. But most of all, I just heard … Him.

I was most astounded by the quietness of my soul among the morning activity that surrounded me. The biggest miracle I witnesses on that lazy Saturday was a fresh encounter of the living God, speaking directly to my heart. My smile was automatic. My tears that glided down my mineral powder make-up cheeks were authentic testimonies and acts of worship to a loving God. To the unconscious by passer, I sipped my deaf coffee and soaked in the warmth of the sun. Sure I sat in my deck chair. But in my spirit I was somewhere else … somewhere holy and inhabited by the presence of Almighty God.

It still astounds me … this God. He knows everything about me … and yet the longer I seem to know Him, the more I discover and uncover and unveil. His ways they are mysterious. His love toward me is always fresh.

My journey continues,
Christina

Libby: Red Bull in a Princess Dress

2011-08-18T14:08:00.002+02:00

Over the years that we’ve been married, Chris and I have learned a lot. We’ve learned how to really love each other. We’ve learned how to love God together. We’ve learned that children changed us. We’ve learned that jobs sometimes fail us. We’ve learned that timing is everything. We’ve learned that what we want and what we need are two different things.

About 9 years ago, Chris and I decided that if we said we trusted God with our lives, then perhaps we should put our money where our mouth is and truly trust Him with every part of our lives. We felt God’s gentle tug asking us to give up the one area of our lives that we felt like we had “control” over … childbearing. We had 2 children. We felt we had “planned” the right time to start and then add to our family. However, after a series of events and perspective changes, we wondered who really was “control” of giving us children.

With deep fear and trepidation, we said these words to God: “If you want us to have more children (gulp) then we give that part of our lives over to you. It’s in your hands.”

Months went by. More months went by. I was convinced that God gave us our answer and told us no more kiddos were in our future. After all, I was fast approaching 35 and Chris … well; we all know he’s older than I am so … I figured our baby days were over. And, thank God they were! No more middle of the night feedings. No more diapers, potty training and terrible two’s. It was over.

After a few more months had gone by – Shazzam! It happened. The only other time a certain part of my female anatomy began to get sore … and I have two of them … were the times I was pregnant.

Nine months later, I was in a delivery room birthing out a 9 pound 1 ounce, uni-brow, baby girl, named Libby. We didn’t know what we were in for.

Like I said earlier, I’m so glad God gives us what we need and not what we want. I did not want another child. However, I needed one … and I needed the one God gave us.

Libby is Red Bull in a princess dress. She is assertive, direct and speaks her mind. Right now, one of her favorite phrases is: “I don’t mean to offend … but ….” (and I always hold my breath after the “but” because I know it may not be pretty.

For being the youngest child, she stands her ground, tries to get her way, and doesn’t back down from a challenge. She forgets to obey, brush her teeth and tell me when she goes outside to play.

But … and there is always a but … this Red Bull princess has stolen my heart. From the very beginning, her arrival marked a new phase of my life. Changing hormones and chemicals wretched havoc with my anxiety yet God used all of it to push me into true healing. I’d like to say that had Libby not crashed my world, I may not have experienced total emotional healing.

I love this Libby. I just love her. I love her spunk, glamour, how she walks in high heels, how she wears glitter headbands, how she sounds when she speaks German, how she holds her pencil when she does Math, her dark brown hair, and the way she kisses me goodnight and giggles when I pretend we are glued together.

Now, when Addison reads this she is gonna be smart and say now Libby is my favorite daughter, just like she did when I wrote my Ode to Parker. Truth is … Libby is my favorite … yet so is Parker … and so is Addison.

Happy Birthday, Libby!

Happy Birthday to ... Me

2011-08-14T16:09:00.002+02:00

I am allowing my birthday to slip through my hands.

I arrived home this morning from Budapest, Hungary with 3 sweet baby girls and my Chris waiting to celebrate my day. My day was ushered in by a waterfall of balloons being poured down on me from the top of the stairwell.

I was then brought to the table that was set for a traditional Austrian breakfast, gifts surrounding my plate, and red roses decorating the center of the table. As we lathered our rolls with butter and jelly, I unfolded the events of my weekend get-a-way.

I promptly headed upstairs for a movie in bed ... in which I fell asleep ... for several hours.

I know am in the process of eating a piece of homemade chocolate cake and settling in for another movie.

I pushed aside the self-imposed agenda of trying to do something or go somewhere to make my day "special" and rested in the fact that being with those I love the very most in the world, doing pretty much nothing at all ... is making this day what it should be ... perfect!

I loved being loved on ... and feel grateful for this special day!

Just chillin'

2011-08-09T22:44:00.003+02:00

After returning from a week long meeting and a few days of vacation in the Austrian Alps, I'm still chillin'!

I'm still in the relaxation mode ...

I'm feeling the sense of total blessing ...

I'm can tell there is a sense of regeneration ...

I'm totally full in my love tank of needing to be outdoors ...

I'm not ready to have the girls start school ...

I'm just chillin'.

So, I'm setting my self-imposed deadline of writing every week on the back burner, taking a bit more time to chill some more, and then will return with renewed vigor.

I will tell you our vacation was concluded by a trip to Mauthausen, a former concentration camp. I'm still processing what I felt. More on that later.

I will tell you my birthday is this coming Sunday, August 14th (I'll be 43 ... sounds weird to say it out loud but it's true) and I am taking a spiritual retreat ... by myself. I'm taking a train to Budapest, staying at a company guest house, and plan on doing nothing but hear from the Maker of the Universe. I'm excited to see what He chooses to show me.

So, until next week, I'm signing off ...

P.S. My love language is "gifts". That means, I love to get gifts ... any shape, kind, form, size ... and ... seeing how it's my birthday ... hint, hint ... you can just take the ball and go with it!!

Ode to Joy

2011-07-31T19:01:00.002+02:00

According to Wikipedia, Ode to joy “is an ode written in 1785 by the German poet, playwright and historian Friedrich Schiller, celebrating the brotherhood and unity of all mankind. It is best known for its musical setting by Ludwig van Beethoven in the final movement of his Ninth Symphony (completed in 1824), a choral symphony for orchestra, four solo voices and choir.”

However, this is not the ode to joy I speak of. I speak of another ode. This ode was written by God Almighty in 1999 celebrating the union of Chris and Christina Elledge. It is best known for its kind, gentle and tender personality traits that make mercy and compassion come to life. This ode lives and breathes in the person of Parker Joy Elledge.

When precious Parker was born, we were in great transition as a family. Having resigned from a church in Arizona, we found ourselves living with my parents. Despite the hardships of financial struggles, loss of job, and uncertainty of the future, God placed within our hearts a deep and resounding … Joy. So much so, we could not help but name the child born during this period in our lives … Parker Joy.

My precious Parker Joy turned 12 years old on Friday, July 22. Time takes you by surprise. When did she get to be the pre-teen beauty that I now see before me?

Parker came out of the womb making noises as she enjoyed “eating”, sleeping sound as a log, and having the most laid back personality of any of our Elledge children. At 12, Parker still makes noises when she eats (sorry kiddo, you know you do ... it's just that you enjoy your food so much!), sleeps sound as a long and is the most laid back personality of any of our Elledge children.

Parker is sensitive toward others emotions. Parker can tenderly touch you, using no words at all, and you know she’s sent you a message straight from her heart. Parker loves to cook gourmet eggs. Parker is a true and loyal friend. Parker is a distinct and creative personality. Parker is incredibly intuitive. Parker shows others the compassion and tenderness of a loving God.

I can’t imagine a day without my precious Parker. She helps me breath. She touches my life with calmness. She inspires me.

On the day that she was born … my heart was enlarged. She has made me better. She has made me see more of God.

Parker Joy Elledge … it is my privilege to be your Mom.

Controversy

2011-07-24T08:35:00.002+02:00

In Billy Graham’s book, Unto the Hills (Word, 1986), he makes this statement that I find quite controversial: “Our generation has become well versed in Christian terminology, but is remiss in the actual practice of Christ’s principles and teachings.”

Then, I read in God’s love letter to mankind in Psalms other controversial things like … “The Lord, strong and mighty; the Lord, invincible in battle. For you have rescued me from my trouble and helped me to triumph over my enemies. What joy for those whose strength comes from the Lord, who have set their minds on pilgrimage.”

Our friends, John and Shannon, are here. It’s the first time the four of us have sat in my living room for over 2 ½ years. Most of our conversations center on the theme of what we see God doing in the world … and in our lives.

They are not perfect. My Chris and I are not perfect. We talk about how living out the practices and principles of Christ are a challenge, but one well worth the taking. We talk about how we know the terminology of faith but trying to live it out when the car breaks down or the computer crashes is difficult. We talk about the terminology of our true identity as believers and followers of Christ … but then how difficult it is to walk in that identify when we feel inadequate and unattractive (ok, that’s just Shannon and I because that’s a girl thing … this feeling unattractive. But, alas, that’s another blog!). Sadly, we talk about those who we’ve known that have ceased to or regressed in their journey with Christ. We talk about them with the sober reality that but for the grace of God we could be talking about ourselves.

Where, oh where are the followers of Christ that believe what the love letter from God claims as truth?

Where are those that believe that the Lord is strong and mighty? We settle, instead, for a God we say is strong and mighty but then we take it upon ourselves to be stronger and mightier and solve the problems with our own resources. It’s easier to slap down the credit card than to trust in a mighty God with unlimited resources.

Where are those that would declare that they’ve been rescued from trouble and triumphed over enemies? We settle, instead, for just getting by because it’s too much effort and personal sacrifice to really go deeper and find a permanent solution.

Where are those whose joy comes from the Lord and have set their minds toward following a radical God? We settle, instead, for fleeting joy from a pill, a bottle or a shopping spree and cloud our minds with cultural distractions, ignoring our inner cries of self longing and dissatisfaction.

I pray to a God I know created the universe yet I doubt His power in revealing Himself to my neighbor. I declare my devotion to a loving God that knitted me in my mother’s womb, and then wonder if He is able to balance my hormones. Pitiful … and yet so human.

I’m inclined to thinking it’s not the doubt that keeps us from discovering God, but in the midst of doubt, setting our minds on pushing through it and coming face to face with Him and discovering His power.

Where are those who would do the same? If we don’t, we lose everything. It’s time for us to wake up! Our status as blessing receivers and hoarders is quickly coming to an end. Radical living is called for … radical faith, radical joy, radical believe.

Taking it all in,
Christina

About to pop ...

2011-07-19T06:12:00.004+02:00

We have very dear friends, the Irwin's. We have known them for 12 years. When we left Oklahoma to move to Vienna, the Irwin's and I (speaking for all Elledg'es) dreamed of and prayed for the day that God would bring them to Vienna. Today, as I type, they (John, Shannon and sweet Shelbi) are snuggled in their beds upstairs in my house ... in Vienna! I'm just reminded over and over again of the Psalms that say ... "the Lord has done great things for us."

The Irwin's love Jesus. They are teaching their 3 children to love Jesus. They make me want to love Jesus more.

In the last 2 years, they've watched 2 families they've grown to love leave Norman to serve overseas. I don't break a confidence when I tell that last night, as Shannon was sitting in our big blue chair, she made a confession. After finding out that the second family was being sent out to serve, she was mad at God. "Why do you send everyone away? Why don't you send me?"

Do you know what God said to her, in the turmoil and hurt of her heart? "Because I've put you where I want you."

I don't know when I've heard such beautiful words. I've put you where I want you. God of the universe, who created every star and gave it it's name, created every being that walks and moves and breaths on the planet ... has put them where He wants them. To use them to show others who He is ... and how He loves.

She's settled. She knows her purpose. Her heart still chases the friends that live across the world, but only for a short time and in a healthy way. She's been given a gentle yet profound reminder that God has put her, in Norman, Oklahoma, for a specific purpose for this specific time.

What about you? Are you settled in knowing you are where you are at this moment in time for a purpose? God loves you. God has a plan for you. Don't spend your days pinning what was ... or looking too far into the future. He wants ... no he passionately desires for you to know that you have a place in this world. Embrace it. Use your life.

When the Irwin's came yesterday, they brought with them an entire suitcase from my Mom, Jo Ann. I kid you not, they gave up one of their baggage allowances so she could spoil us with an entire suitcase full of treasures!

For several months, as I have spent time reading the Bible and listening to God, I've noticed He keeps pointing out two words to me: unfailing love. Every time I come across these words, I underline them and make a note of them in my journal. I've come to see these words show up in the most unusual places and situations in the Bible. Every time they appear, I know this is God showing me to pay attention.

After realizing God was up to something, I asked him to show me in a new way the meaning of those words. I know God loves me. But He's set my heart on a search to find out how radically and creatively He loves me with these two simple words: unfailing love.

As I opened up the suitcase from my Mom, I was flooded by another revelation of the meaning of unfailing love. The extravagent treasures I found in that suitcase reminded me how God loves me with unfailing parental love. The things I unpacked spoke right to my heart (like cozy PJ's and watches that have "bling"). They were things that a mother knows her child (despite that child be almost 43 years old) would like. They were things that demonstrated her knowing who I am and what my heart would like. They were things that I wouldn't buy for myself ... even though I wanted to. They were tings that made me feel pretty. They were things that shouted her unfailing love for me, her daughter.

I was overcome ... with gratitude, with feeling loved, with knowing my heavenly Father chose once again to demonstrate to me in a new way how He loves me. And ... he used my Mom to show me.

So, the Irwin's are here ... I'm wearing my new PJ's and wearing my "bling" ... and feeling so loved I could just pop!

Close to popping,
Christina

Detox

2011-07-12T17:31:00.001+02:00

I’m in detox. Detox from fats, bread, grains, cereal, caffeine, fats, and sugar. I am allowed to eat fruits, veggies, and 8 oz of lean meat a day. I hate it. I’m not denying my feelings. I plain ol’ hate it.

Why am I doing detox? Good question; I’m still trying to figure that one out! Actually, my dearest, Marti, went through the same detox and afterwards claimed she felt “great”. The purpose is to cleanse the body of toxins, flush out excess fat from your system and help balance hormones. After reviewing the benefits, my Chris, Addison and I decided we’d give it a go.

Detox from the things I love, like ice cream, dark bread with peanut butter, a large cup of coffee, chocolate, cheese … pretty much everything I am not eating right now, is tough. I am not reaping the benefits of the detox. I am not seeing any results in waistline. I am not a happy camper.

So why do this? I’m doing it for the long term benefits. I feel yucky. I feel tired. I feel hungry. I feel deprived. But, I’m doing it. I know that it will make a difference in my body. Right now, I hope I am experiencing the effect of all the “bad” stuff getting out of my system. Later, I’ll reap the benefits of feeding my body with the “good” stuff.

Wait a minute … I feel a modern day parable coming on!

Detox is like the journey of following Christ. At whatever age you choose to follow Him, you are detoxing your spirit. The purpose is much like the body detox, to cleanse, flush out stuff that doesn’t need to be there, and to find balance. There are definite benefits.

However, my experience was that when I realized that following Christ was the truth, the best way to live life, I felt … yucky! I was told by those in my church that following Christ meant eternity in heaven. True. What no one told me what the detox process. What happened to life “happily ever after?”

Please don’t get me wrong. I am grateful for those that pointed me to the truth. I am not grateful for the lack of guidance in my life. Guidance that should have told me, “Listen sister. You are not complete, whole, right with God until you realize He made a way for you to experience life to its fullest through His Son, Jesus Christ. Accept Him. But, do so with this warning. Your life will never be the same. You will wonder why you suffer, why you struggle, why bad things happen. You will find yourself not fitting in, not coming close to living like you should, and not always being happy. But, it’s worth it. It’s worth going through the transformation of spiritual detox. Living through spiritual detox means that when you suffer, you are not alone. Living through spiritual detox means that when you struggle, you have the power of Jesus Christ living inside you to guide you. Living through spiritual detox means that when bad things happen, you will have peace, unspeakable and unimaginable. You won’t fit in, because you are called to live as a peculiar person. You won’t come close to living like you should, but every day, if you surrender to the power of the Holy Spirit living inside you, you will become more and more like your Jesus. You will not always be happy, but you will always have joy.

So, that’s the end of my modern day parable. Detox for the spirit is needed to become more like Christ. If that’s your goal … go for it!

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go gnaw on a cucumber.

Movie Review: Nanny McPhee and the Big Bang!

2011-07-04T14:55:00.002+02:00

Yep. You guessed it. It’s time for another life lesson from a movie. I can’t seem to get away from this feeling of communicating a message. It feels urgent. So, I’m just gonna write … and hope … and be peculiar (this will make sense at the end).

Saturday night we watched “Nanny McPhee and the Big Bang”. I wasn’t disappointed: same character different story, same sense of magical awe different tricks and the same concept repeated - “When you need me, and don’t want me, I must stay. When you want me, and don’t need me, I must go.”

In contrast to the “Letters to God” movie (the movie I reviewed in last week’s post), I love the approach and strategy of Nanny McPhee. She has a purpose and she knows what it is. She has been sent by a sending agency to accomplish a goal. She goes to the need, not expecting the needy to come to her. She draws no attention to herself, allowing the recipients of her actions to learn their lessons by themselves, thus making a bigger impact.

What if we, who call ourselves believers in God, would take the Nanny McPhee approach to sharing our lives with others? What if our concept of approaching people were just like hers: “When (they) need (God), and don’t want (God), we must stick by them, showing them the way to find true meaning in life. When (they) want (God), then they don’t need us to lead them by the hand, we must go.”

Now, I’m not suggesting we dump people. We, however, have to get out of the way. We give them the tools to know how to navigate through life, peering through a new lens, a new world view. When they can navigate on their own, we move on and allow them to pay it forward.

I’m pretty sure when Jesus befriended 12 guys of varied backgrounds, he had this approach. He poured into them. He helped them navigate the world through a new lens, a new world view. Then, he released them to go and do the same.

Herein lies the problem. (Gulp. I’m nervous to type such things, but I fear it’s the truth.) Most of us have forgotten our strategy, our purpose, the one who sends us. We fill our days and thoughts around the latest gadget, newest nail color, biggest sale, and best happy hour that we forget our purpose. I’m not talking to anyone who is not a confessed believer in Jesus Christ. If you are not a believer in Jesus Christ, you are off the hook. This doesn’t apply to you. But, for those of us who have made a decision to call ourselves followers of Christ, we are the guilty.

Where, oh where, are the ones who are strategic, purposeful, and know the one who sends? Where are the ones that live life on the edge, not thrust forward by societal norms but rather a standard high and odd? Again, I think a quiet and dangerous comfort has rested on the shoulders of most church goers. They are not driven, like our beloved Nanny McPhee, but have traded in passion for Christ for contentment with normal life.

Followers of Jesus Christ have been called to something greater than normal life. Normal life is what normal people live. We are not normal! We are a peculiar people who don’t belong here! Peculiar living means living on purpose for a purpose. Peculiar living means not having an agenda, but waiting for direction from One who makes the agenda. Peculiar living means living alongside the needy and hurting, be they poor or polished, and sticking with them when they think they don’t need God. Peculiar people stand for something and aren’t afraid to say what they stand for. Peculiar people don’t wait for the hurting to come to them; they are already there – among the hurting!

Again, my message is for those who claim to know Jesus. If you know Him, be peculiar. If you don’t, find someone who is … truly peculiar … and follow them around until you see Him.

Movie Review: "Letters to God"

2011-06-26T11:00:00.003+02:00

I love to watch movies. Last Friday night, (“Friday Night in the Big Town“ for us Elledge’s), we watched a movie called “Letters to God.” It is this movie I’d like to address.

Over time I’ve noticed that my blog has moved from a weekly account of what new adventures we have embarked on to whatever I feel the Lord has laid on my heart. I know writing is a tool to communicate. I know this tool has been entrusted by me … at least for this season in time. More and more I get a sense that this blog has become a means of expressing more than just my life. It’s a way to communicate a bigger picture, a bigger way of life, a bigger angle at looking at God.

I really enjoyed the movie. I liked that I could sit and watch something with a positive Christian message with my girls. I laughed; I cried. It was the best of times … and I fear the worst of times. Why? My perspective has shifted without me realizing it. This movie illustrates the perspective change.

Living in a post modern culture, a culture that morality is self dictated and religion old-fashioned, the concept of Grace is seldom seen and less seldom experienced, another believer is rarely encountered because less than 1% of the population have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ … I found the movie to be … fluff.

Let me define fluff.

Fluff = idealistic, a break from reality, in a word – untrue.

The movie has predominantly “Christian” characters. In this movie world, the immediate family, the neighbors, the co-workers are all Christian. The post man discovers God through a series of hardships and embraces a new life. The main character dies, but dies a death that is noble and followed by a legacy of change, hope, and leaves the world a better place than when he entered it. Good.

I’m not being a synic, but I’m bothered. I’m bothered that this cut and dried image of Christianity is so welcomed and accepted in America. If most of my friends were to watch this movie, they would see it as a modern day fairy tale. It illustrates the “come to us - we the Christians - and find God“approach we have taken to show a dying world the grace found in living an abandoned life in Jesus Christ. When the seeking come to the church, to the right Christian people, live their lives right, things go as they should. Yes, there is hurt, but it’s covered up by the love and hugs of friendly Christians that make all things better.

Wake up. If we be neither hot nor cold, God spits us out. I fear, dear friends, we are in the throat of our Creator, getting ready to be spewed out. Our lack of hot or coldness has given a bad and incorrect taste in the mouth of the lost world.

Where are those that live out a life of radical difference? Where are those that stand for something? Where are those that wear their faith on their foreheads?
Most “radicals” come tattooed, pierced, heads shaven and beards unshaven. They may not stand for the truth, but they stand for something. What does that “church” stand for?

I love the “church”. It’s the full expression of God’s love for human kind. What I don’t like is the way man has adulterated the way the “church” expresses itself: clean, well—groomed, full of hugs and fake inquires and lunch invitation that never get fulfilled. What does the “church” stand for? How is the “church” different from the world?

If we stand for nothing, we are exposed to everything. That is what I fear the “church” has embraced. We are full of good people and good intentions, but we’ve turned a blind eye to the true reason we exist … to embrace the darkness, the lostness … to be a beacon on a hill … to go out and touch the hurting not stand clean and pressed and ask the hurting to come to us.

Our “Letters to God” lifestyle is on the way out, friends. If we be wise, we would fall on our faces and ask God to show us what to do next. Maybe we abandon the next Bible study where we make plans for our next tea and get on our well groomed knees and cry out before a holy God to clean our hearts and open our eyes. What if we skipped the next Bunko party with our Christian friends and asked the Wal-Mart clerk how her day was going … and really listened? What if our post man was struggling to find meaning in life … would we notice? What if we quit expecting the lost to find their way into our hallowed halls of church life and went to them?

Calculate the times we’ve been afraid to speak of Jesus at work. Ponder the times we didn’t speak about our faith in God, creator of the universe, because we were afraid the PTA would find it offensive. There are plenty of messages being thrown out today, the least one being thrown is the truth.

In my quest to be real with God, I find myself more and more on my face, asking forgiveness for being too unwilling to be a spokesperson for the truth of Jesus Christ. Would you join me in being real with God? Would you have the courage to let it all hang out, be cleaned and made new … and open your voice? The stakes are high if we do. The stakes even higher if we don’t.

Girls, Girls, Girls

2011-06-20T18:16:00.003+02:00

Yep. My Chris had two extra girls to put up with ... I mean, to have the pleasure of being around this past week.

Prince among Men

Man of the Year

Man for all Seasons

a man having the Patience of Job

... any title you would like to bestow upon my Chris would fit. He put up with 4 Elledge females, plus the addition of two Bader girls, one bathroom and lots of hormones!

Bader girls, Sydney and Cecily, arrived on Wednesday evening. Having met them over 14 years ago, when they were respectively 2 and 4, at 15 and 17 they have changed a bit from our first introduction. They are taller, can tie their shoes, laugh at my jokes, clean and dress themselves and many other tasks befitting their age. In a word, they are simply lovely.

I wrote their mamma, Sheila, an email professing my deep and new found affection for these young women of hers. As I confessed my admiration, I kept thinking that it "seemed just like yesterday" these young women were being put in time out and being taught to share their toys. Now, one crosses that border into adulthood by heading to college, far away from her home in the state of Washington into God's country, OU. A new chapter, a new adult chapter, in her life is getting ready to unfold. The other begins her Junior year in high school as President of the Student Body, leading others to be young, responsible leaders for the future. "Where did the time go" ... I say, scratching my head.

Chasing time is like chasing the wind. You see it, you feel it, and you just can’t catch it. Profound, hugh?

All the while I'm reflecting over these young women and their place in the world, I'm reading through Ezekiel right now. If you are prone to bouts of depression, don't read Ezekiel. It's not pretty. However, Ezekiel is being sent to rebellious Israel as a messenger: get it together or pay the consequences. It seems a lot of his message is pointed to the religious, the "good", those in charge. Quit playing games, quit giving your heart to idols, turn your whole heart to God ... the great I AM. He doesn't mince words.

Just doing a bit of reflecting about my role as one on the way out someday ... and what I have to leave the next generation like these sweet Bader girls. I fear my generation may be guilty of those Ezekiel came to scold. Church is not a place you go to on Sunday, it's the body of Christ ... that should be lived out on a daily basis expressing the hope and life and love of Jesus. What I give myself to wholeheartedly will be revealed by my actions. What I believe in my heart will be expressed in my attitude toward others, toward God.

Still reading ... still learning ... and still giggling over our pictures from the Bader girls. Life is sweet.

Christina

A Funny Thing Happened on Our Way Back from Budapest ...

2011-06-13T11:24:00.002+02:00

This week:

Addison and Parker finished their last day of school and entered into that great wide expansion of time called "Summer Break".

Parker had a very early Birthday Party for her friends because all of them leave Vienna for the summer and no one is here for her actual birthday. The plan was to go swimming but a thunderstorm and cool temperatures forced us to go to an indoor play park.

Family Elledge left Friday afternoon for the wild and exotic city of Budapest, Hungary. And that's where the story gets ... wonderful!

Friends, Scott and Joellen, invited us for the weekend. Seeing that Libby had no school today (Monday) we jumped on the opportunity to get out of town for a little R and R.

It must be said that Scott and Joellen are from the South ... the DEEP South ... South Carolina to be exact. That means they are steeped in hospitality and warmth. They showed us the city at night, a sight to behold. They showed us the city by day, an adventure to ride. They let us cook and eat out on their balcony, a night to remember. The let us sleep late, a pleasure to partake in. They let us leave our computer on their front step. No comment.

I'm totally joking!!!!

The truth of the matter is ... everyone thought everyone else had the computer ... one passed it off to the other ... only to be discovered while unloading in Vienna that it was left on the front steps of the Clubbs house in Budapest.

So, no pictures on the blog this week. No spell check to activate. I'm using my little HP notebook mini computer. All our pics are on the other computer, left of the front steps of the Clubbs house in Budapest.

However, when we retreive our computer, that was left on the front steps of the Clubbs hosue in Budapest, I will post some pictures that will knock your socks off. Until then ... get over it! We are dealing with our own stress of not having our computer because it was left on the front steps of the Clubbs house in Budapest.

Now, before I get you to feeling too sorry for us ... because we left our computer on the front steps of the Clubbs house in Budapest, we have company friends that are staying at the Clubbs house (did I mention the Clubbs host a Guest House?) and will be coming through Vienna on Tuesday and will bring our computer, that we left on the front steps of the Clubbs house in Budapest, with them to give to us! Talk about God's provision!

Lesson learned: Always make sure you actually see the computer in the car before pulling out of the driveway of your last destination before heading home. AND ... don't let another family member write blogs about forgetting your computer on the front steps of a friends house in a far away city.

Dear God ...

2011-06-06T16:02:00.002+02:00

... thank you for giving us friends ... old friends that knew us when we dreamed dreams that we now live and watched us develop into what we have now become. Thank you that miles and locations play no role in the closeness you keep in the hearts of friends. Thank you that small trips to see one another make huge impacts in our emotional and spiritual well-being. Thank you that weight and health issues fall by the way-side when friends assess value of one another. Thank you that when friends share faith in Jesus Christ, life on earth is just an introductory chapter to what lies ahead of us in eternity.

Thank you for giving my friend, Beverly, the vacation time and resources to spend a week with us Elledge's. Thank you that she made a kindred impression on my daughters. Thank you that she revived my spirit by just talking the same language my heart does. Thank you that she knows how to laugh ... and to cry. Thank you for letting her find the biggest "bling" I've ever seen on the planet and makes Libby want to grow up and be just like Beverly! Thank you that she told stories about my "out of the box" thinking as a young woman that inspired Parker and Addison and gave them a peak into my "younger" years.

Thank you for the tears at the airport ... and her scent lingering on our pillows. Thank you for creating pockets of time that brings such sweetness.

Thank you that only a day later, Marcie got to hang out with us for a short day. Thank you for the vision and purpose you've put on her heart to serve you. Thank you for a cool day to show her the sights. Thank you for her words that reminded us that you have a plan for the whole world. Thank you for her journey of faith that inspires our own.

I'm tired. But I'm full to the gills with giddy sweetness from visits from friends. What will heaven be like? You are so good .... and I'm so grateful.

Your happy daugther,
Christina

All Things Addie

2011-05-28T12:11:00.003+02:00

Judging from the title, you might think me a mother who plays favorites. However, it just happens to be the week of Addison's (big gulp as I let the reality set in) ... 16th Birthday! Last Tuesday, May 24, my Addie turned a corner. As I'm left holding memories of diapers and hair bows, she moves toward ending a high school career and pressing on toward her future.

It’s funny how time passes. I love the movie “Simon Burch”. It would not be wise for me to watch it in my melancholy mood; I’d sob uncontrollably and probably eat too much chocolate. However, as I meander through this stage in Addison’s life, there is a line in the movie that stands out as a focal point. The main character, Joe Wentworth, loses his mother by death. He says …

When someone you love dies, you don't lose them all at once. You lose them in pieces over time, like how the mail stops coming.

Now, I’m not comparing the loss of my daughters “girlhood” and pilgrimage into young adulthood as a death, but I do feel the concept of loss is still the same. My Chris and I didn’t lose the little girl all at once. I look at Addison, my kind hearted, determined, head strong, focused, academic, chatty Addison and wonder where the little girl went. When did I stop telling her to comb her hair after she bathed? When did she stop coming to me at night when she had a bad dream? When was the last time I picked her up and carried her because her legs were too tired? When did she stop saying she wanted to marry her Daddy? When did she quite wearing pink everything? When did she not want me to buy the bubble gum flavored toothpaste? When did she stop asking me to buy her a “treat” at the store? When did she quit looking under her pillow to see what the tooth fairy left? Where did all the time go?

She is our first, this Addison Kate Elledge. The first child must suffer the experimental, trial and error parenting styles of those who gave birth to her. Looking back, you bet your boots there are things I would do differently. However, there are also things that I wouldn’t change for all the 4.95 cheap custom jewelry in H & M! I remember peaking in on her and my Chris at bedtime. I would see that big man of mine cuddle that tiny soul as if she were the only person on the planet. He’d sing love songs in her ears, stroke hair that grew only on one side of her tiny head, and pray prayers of blessing and hope and prosperity over her little soul that didn’t even know her Creator yet.

I also remember times that this tiny 3 year old person and I would do our weekly grocery shopping. I’d place her in the shopping cart and she would hold my list. I’d give her a pen to “mark off” the things Mommy put in the cart. If she was a “good helper”, I’d let her pick out something that had way too much sugar in it or an insane amount of red dye. She’d be thrilled by her choice and I’d say a silent prayer over her health.

I love this Addison girl. I love that she has grown into somebody I like. I like that she thinks about the world in a way that makes her believe she has a part to play in its progress. I like the way she makes people feels included. I like that she takes risks and does spontaneous things … sometimes. I like that she loves to organize her notebooks. I like that she likes to hang out with me … sometimes. I like that she sleeps with her sisters and they giggle at night. I like that she see’s qualities in her Dad that she wants a future mate to posses. I like … ok I love that she loves coffee and enjoys a Starbucks date every now and then.

So, here’s to my Addison and her new journey. The road ahead only leads toward more independence, more self-made decisions, and less of me … and that’s OK. I have my memories … and that credit card!

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Letting My Words be Few ... kinda

2011-05-20T09:44:00.004+02:00

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Once in awhile, you have little experiences that breakthrough the "normal" and give you a fresh perspective. Chris and I had one of those moments this past Thursday as we met a couple for breakfast in a new part of town. The above pictures are a glimpse of what we experienced.

Speaking of normal, I meet once a week with several language partners. That’s become routine. However, this week I met in a new place … a local place with local flair. It was a quaint café in the middle of the city untouched by tourists. That doesn’t sound like a big deal, until you notice the influx of tourists during the summer season. One can hardly move while in the inner city for all the tourists. So, this café was a welcomed routine breaker.

Interesting story that happened before the café experience … I was early, because that’s just how I am (prepared). So, I have 20 minutes to kill before I meet my language partner. I’m standing on this busy corner, McDonalds behind me and a Chic Eis Salon (Ice cream shop) across from me. There are taxis and busses coming and going and I can hear the constant grind of the metal wheels of the street cars. I’m just standing there and I glance across the street to a small park where there are a number of wooden benches. Seated on one bench was a middle aged woman (OK, probably my age!) nicely dressed and … crying.

One thing I have noticed while living in my fair city is the rarity of emotions … ok, emotions as in sadness … you see emotions of anger all the time … but sadness is never shown in public – never. So, as I stared at this woman, her pain was so tangible. My heart was so sad. I prayed for her and asked God to comfort her.

Then, the unimaginable happened: I knew God’s Spirit was asking me to go comfort the woman.

I’d like to tell you I immediately walked across the busy street and went straight to the bench and did something to alleviate her pain. I didn’t. I asked God if He was sure He wanted me to do that. After all, she was Austrian and Austrians don’t accept the advances of strangers in a favorable light. Surely He was just asking me to pray for her … to ask Him to send someone to bring comfort.

Then, God in heaven spoke to my heart on that corner, as only He can do, in front of McDonald’s and across from the Chic Eis Salon and told ME to be the one to bring comfort.

As I stepped out onto the dirty street that separated me from this crying woman, I knew God had entrusted me with a mission.

When I approached the woman, I noticed her sobs were ever so quiet. When I approached her, she didn’t shrivel back, she didn’t look at me like I was a freak … she just looked up with tears in eyes. It was like she was expecting me.

I put my hand on her expensive leather jacket and said (in German), “Do you need some help?” She shook her head no. I then told her I noticed her from across the street and prayed for her. She said nothing and stared into the air. After what seemed like a few seconds, I turned and left.

As I walked away, I glanced back and noticed she, too, put her lovely printed handkerchief inside her handbag and was walking away. She carried her pain in her shoulders … and I could do nothing … nothing but pray.

I felts so helpless, yet obedient. I have no idea why God asked me to go over to her. I was expecting some big spiritual experience. I had in my mind this woman would confess her heartache, beg me to share the good news of a new life made possible by a personal relationship with Christ, and I would walk away a hero. I’m pitiful. I’m so short-sighted … and human.

Instead, it was just a question and a hand lain ever so carefully on a shoulder. That was it.

God was good to remind me that what we see is not what He sees. I don’t know the cries of that woman’s heart … but He did.

That experience put feet to words that I’ve been pondering this week in Ecclesiastes 5:3, “After all, God is in heaven and you are here on earth. So, let your words be few.” You know me … I’m all about words. In that moment, I had none. Somehow, words would have been too much. It was about God being God and me being quiet.

So, without saying any more words, I think I’ll stop there.

Keeping the words few,
Christina

Blessings

2011-05-14T16:30:00.002+02:00

Below you will find the words to a most beautiful song by Laura Story. You can hear the song on YouTube at the following link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1CSVqHcdhXQ&feature=related

Last week a friend sent me this link. I cried that ugly, snotty nose cry that isn’t pretty. I’m not sure why the tears flowed so freely. Tears could have been sweet release from a heart that feels guilty that I expect freedom from pain … while at the same time realizing that pain is the one thing that brings me to my knees and allows me to feel His chin resting on my head. Tears could have been the reliving of a thousand experiences that were so painful to walk through … but having walked through them allowed me to really live. Tears could have been for sweet teachers at ISCV that just got news their baby has to stay another month in the hospital … feeling the kick in the stomach from the news and the firm hand of Jesus all at the same time. Who knows why the tears … they just came.

Here are the words:

We pray for blessings, we pray for peace
Comfort for family
Protection while we sleep

We pray for healing
For prosperity
We pray for your mighty hand
To ease our suffering

All the while
You hear each spoken need
Yet love is way too much
To give us lesser things

Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights is what it takes to know you’re near
What if trials of this life are your mercies in disguise.

We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel you near

We doubt your goodness
We doubt your love
As if every promise from your Word is not enough

All the while you hear each desperate plead
The longer we have faith to believe

When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart that this is not
That this is not our home

Every word of this song stings my heart yet settles my soul. I doubt His goodness … and His love … and treat His promises from His Word like they aren’t enough. Yet, I do know and have learned that the pain reminds me that this is not my home.

God may send prosperity … but if He doesn’t … I am made better for the lack of it. He may send raindrops … when I think I need sunshine … and that’s just OK. When I reach heaven, I’m sure those things that seemed to bring the most pain, will be the sweetest crowns I can lay at the feet of the One … the very sweetest things.

I sometimes get mopey about the distance between here and the place most of our friends and family live. I get sad thinking about our parents getting older ... and feeling sorry for myself when I want to go to my sister's play and can't because it's just too far away ... and feel like a night out with my friend Marti would be just what I need ... or chicken fajitas in the crock-pot from Shannon would be the perfect meal ... just little things that sometimes ... just sometimes make me doubt His goodness. And then, if I look around me ... it takes only a minute to snap out of my longing for what I think I need to realize He has me where He wants me. What seems to be minor longings and trials ... are His mercies toward me. When I long, I remember that neither there nor here is my home. My heart finds rest in Him alone. Where He is ... is home.

Press on … in the raindrops and heartache. The journey will come to an end … and be sweet … so sweet.

Letter to God

2011-05-08T14:26:00.002+02:00

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Dear God,

As I looked through the pictures of our one day trip to London yesterday, I am so thankful for the way you work.

First of all, thank you for letting us work for a company that takes such good care of us. For our VISA, we were required to make the trip. Not only have you allowed us to serve with such a gracious company with a heart for all nations, you have allowed them to provide the finances for such a trip. Thank you.

Second, thank you for the family you have given me. I love my girls. To think, as a young woman, looking into my future, I never wanted to marry nor did I see myself as a Mom. I wanted to do something extraordinary for you in a village in Africa if that's what you wanted for me. Instead, you've allowed me to marry my best friend; given me three extraordinary little women in which to invest my life, and you've knitted us together as friends. I don't take that for granted. Every minute you give me with them, I am eternally grateful!

While we were in London yesterday, my sites were set on spending the day in Harrods Department Store. Once we got there, I was overwhelmed by the … luxury, size, prices, people, and indulgence. Not really just one thing but all of it together. It made me feel like I was among thousands who were worshipping a golden calf. While others were buying designer dresses for toddlers at the price of 800 pounds a dress, and looking at handbags at 650 pounds a bag, and having their poodles pampered at the Pet Spa (for who knows how many pounds) … I just wanted a Crispy Crème dounut for 1.20 and felt a little extreme by buying a dozen to satisfy our 2 year craving for the sweet and yummy sugar rush. It dawned on me that we really are aliens living in a strange land. One day, as you tell me in your word, there will be a place of extreme opulence. It will be a place I will feel at home in because you will be there. Thank you.

Thank you for directing us to the charming Italian restaurant for lunch. The food was yummy, the prices wonderful, and we got water with ice cubes! What a treat!

Finally, thank you for allowing Hyde Park to be just a short trip across the street from our Italian dining experience. The rest of our day was spend sitting on a park bench, strolling through a rose garden and soaking up some London sun. Thank you knowing that the great outdoors makes me feel like a person.

I know I already said “finally” but I need to add another “finally”… and this time I really mean it. Thank you for today, being Mother’s Day, to be postponed to next week by my family. As we all slept in, and are tired and listless, we needed the day to recuperate. Thank you that they want to make my day special … and are willing to give me next Sunday to properly celebrate Mother’s Day. They are just terrific!

I’m so glad I am your daughter. You do all things well.

See ya …
Christina

A Weekend in the Country

2011-05-01T12:36:00.006+02:00

The highlight of our week was our weekend get-a-way to Wies, Austria. Wies is the tiny mountain village where our friends Johan and Romana reside. (If you’ll remember … Chris took a few days to visit them back in February.) It lies just outside Graz, Austria which is the hometown to California’s former Governor and Austria’s native son, Arnold Schwarzenegger. Although Wies is a short 3 hours from our front doorstep, it feels like a million miles away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

Romana, which I lovingly refer to as the Austrian Martha Stewart, cooked us mouth watering meals while Johann served as Deutsch teacher, waiter, Libby entertainer, GPS and all around good guy. Most of our time was spent sitting around the kitchen table, drinking coffee and talking. How great and praise worthy it is to realize that 2 years ago we could spit out a few German vocabulary words as our only form of communication. This time, conversations were had … granted, grammatically incorrect and American accent full, but conversations none the less.

By the time we left, Libby had invited herself to stay for a week during the summer, Addison and Parker had played 203 games of Chinese checkers which Romana taught us, Chris was still wearing shorts despite the cool temperatures and rain, and I had taken enough pictures to fill many an album … which you can sample below!

Perhaps the best part of the whole experience was what God did with my long time companion – anxiety. As you know and hopefully never tire of hearing about, anxiety has played a part in my life for over 12 years. Waiting on vitamins to come in the mail, I did without a key component to my regiment to combat the symptoms of anxiety. Wednesday, however, the symptoms surfaced with a pretty strong showing. Not panicking as a way to cope, I once again went into full dependence on God mode. Too bad this isn’t a daily thing for me … this total desperation for God to be everything I need. Anyway, Thursday evening before our departure on Friday, God allowed my vitamins to come. Taking usually a good 24 – 36 hours before they “kick in”, Friday was hard. I cried into Chris’ strong shoulders, called a good friend to pray for me … and felt as if I was in a room where someone had turned the lights out. Left to my own devices, I desired staying in bed and drowning out the “yuck” with old episodes of Andy Griffith, retreating from the world. Knowing that wasn’t on the menu as we had been planning this trip for some time, God gave me the “umph” from 12 years of experience and just sheer will to push forward and put one foot in front of the other.

Right before departing for Wies, I cried out to God, literally, and He responded with this verse in Psalm 29:11 “The Lord gives his people strength. The Lord blesses them with peace.” Not feeling like I was “His” much less having any strength or peace, I decided to continue to believe His truth and not my feelings. His words are like bread … are like water … are everything you need.

Here, 2 days later, I SHOUT that my God is bigger and able to conquer anything in the world … or in yourself. Time and time again He has rescued me from that companion – anxiety. Time and time again He has shown me that I truly am my strongest when I feel I am my weakest. It’s His strength that makes my hinny get out of bed and not watch Andy Griffith and act and move and be what He has created me to be … despite what my feelings betray me into thinking.

Here’s to a God that uses what is meant for our demise … to make us STRONG! Wow … wow … wow! I love the power of God … I am HIS … and so are you. What is it you need to make you weak … for you to see His strength? He can be trusted. He can be depended on. Oh that I wouldn’t let a little thing like anxiety to make me totally and utterly dependent on Him but that I would choose to do it everyday!

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Easter Thoughts

2011-04-23T18:23:00.002+02:00

This week I have just a little bit of rabble floating about in my head.

Addison returned from Romania with a renewed sense of calling to work with children. I had a dream we adopted a child.

We, alongside our friends Van and Jackie, helped friends, Mike and Carrie. They sponsored an Easter Egg Hunt in the park today. We watched kiddos find eggs in the shadow of a WWII air defense tower. I took pictures and captured the precious smiles of the children.

This morning I read about Jesus. He shared a last meal with his disciples, including Judas. He knew what Judas was about to do. He shared his bread anyway.

In the midst of the plastic Easter eggs, mini snickers bars, trip to the mall, working in my garden ... I stop and ponder. It seems that few know the great sacrifice that was made ... fewer still who know and believe.

Yet, we move forward. With that same cross before us, we continue to help with Easter egg hunts, take photos and love those around us with the love that only Jesus can pour into us.

Enjoy the photos ... let the faces inspire you.

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Venti Vanilla Latte, Please

2011-04-15T09:18:00.004+02:00

You’ll be happy to know that I am recovering nicely from my tragic circumstances of last week. You know, the loss of the 1 Euro coffee, the heartache, the trauma … it’s getting better every day. In fact, today I may actually be totally over my loss. I find myself sitting in Starbucks, enjoying my Venti Vanilla Latte that is totally … FREE!! Free always trumps 1 Euro limited time offers! FREE makes my heart sing! FREE makes it OK to buy at 3.50 Euro yummy treat because I’m not having to pay 5 Euro for my Venti Vanilla Latte … not that I would buy a 3.50 Euro yummy treat because I’m trying to watch my weight … thanks to Libby and the constant reminder that she’s used to me being … the “c” word (see two posts ago for further clarification, if you dare!).

Yep. Sipping my Venti Vanilla Latte, chillin’ to jazz music, watching people muddle about from my lofty view from Starbucks onto the street below me = sweet bliss. This may be what my heaven looks like on earth.

To top it all off, all offspring are being farmed out to other locations until about 5:30 p.m. this evening. Addie Girl is busy with her production of YOU’RE A GOOD MAN CHARLIE BROWN (check out the photo box below), Precious Parker is going home with a friend for a birthday sleepover and Little Libbers received word this morning that the brave Mom of her friend, Abby, is going to take her home until 5:30 p.m. All just feels right with the world!

And, as if all the above couldn’t be more blessing than a girl can stand in one day, this also marks the beginning of our Easter break! We have a week and 2 days off of school to do whatever our little heart’s desire!

Now, for all of you who have been keeping up with our VISA status … things are progressing. Trying to give you enough info yet trying to keep things vague for security reasons, we are waiting for some final documents and then, hopefully, will have the official papers in our hot little hands. Prayers to Jesus for smoothness in the final stages would be warmly welcomed and encouraged.

Speaking of prayers, this Sunday Addison leaves with a team from her school to go on a mission trip to Romania. The team will be doing light construction work and helping with a local orphanage. Romania is a vast and beautiful country but very poor with a depressed economy. They will be staying in primitive housing with limited use to WC. I’m looking forward to what God does for her and the rest of the team on this trip. For me, as a Momma, this is one step closer to Addison fulfilling what seems to be a calling to work with children. One day Romania, the next day Africa. I think it’s just a matter of time.

And, speaking of time, I’m gonna enjoy mine for the rest of this morning. She’s not gone yet. And I think I hear another Vanilla Latte calling my name!

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Introductory Coffee is No Longer 1 Euro ... poor me.

2011-04-10T19:40:00.004+02:00

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There is a new cafe in our neighborhood called Papapico’s. We have gone in there a few times attracted by the modern design and cool atmosphere. It doesn’t have the feeling of a Vienna Coffee House, (can’t have it all), but it does have a very nice and personable owner, a waitress from Sicily that helps me with my German, free Wi-Fi, a drive-thru (unheard of in Vienna unless you go to McDonalds) and 1 euro coffee’s. Who could ask for anything more?

This week I surprised my older girls with an impromptu drink at Papapico’s drive-thru. Having dropped off little Libby, Addie girl and Precious Parker and I had a few minutes to kill before school. With the convenience of the drive-thru, I drove up, met my Sicilian waitress friend at the window and ordered 2 Cappuccino’s. We wait longer than any American would ever think of waiting in a drive-thru until the creamy hot goodness is delivered.

Because, being the creature of habit I am, coupled with the fact that I am always about a bargain, my little ears were waiting to hear “2 Euro, bitte” ring in my ears like gospel truth. Instead, I hear “5.80 Euro, bitte”. I choked. Right there in the drive-thru my calm and eager countenance dropped into a state of panic. I had to act fast. Grabbing a 5 Euro bill from my purse, digging frantically for .80, all while trying to conceal my bitter dissatisfaction and utter shock at the transaction that was taking place … we manage to pay.

Stunned, I threaten the girls … I mean strongly suggested … they enjoy every golden ounce of liquid and try to save the to-go cup for further use!

Apparently, the 1 Euro coffee was an introductory special. I missed the memo that it was for a limited time only. Poor me.

Yesterday afternoon, while sitting on my little balcony drinking in the sun, I had this rather deep thought about my loss of the introductory 1 Euro coffee (yes, I was still thinking about it 5 days later because that’s how deeply it wounded me … and affected my pocket book!). When the café opened, it was such a wonderful little treat to have the 1 Euro coffee’s at my disposal. After a few weeks turned into a month, I had forgotten about the novelty of the 1 Euro coffee. Now, it had become normal, routine, and predictable.

Having entered into a personal relationship with Jesus, almost 23 years ago, I wonder how often I forget the first love … the first thrill of hearing the Master of the Universe whisper my name. I don’t want my time, my experience, my relationship with Jesus to be a spiritual routine. I don’t want to be normal and predictable. Every moment I utter a prayer, squeak out a thank you, shout out a question … I want to be astounded. I want to be stunned at the response I hear from God. I want to be just as bewildered at how He stoops to answer me, provide for me, surprise me with a new revelation of how He acts in the universe as I was when I heard “5.80 Euro, bitte.”

God is not confined to our experience with Him. He speaks and mountains jump. He whispers and stars are born. Oh how I want to feel the breath at the base of my neck of my Father. I don’t want to miss the memo … the introductory offer of God’s grace, presence and wisdom … not that I could for it’s for an unlimited time. Unlimited.

"Cause You Gotta have ... Friends" (Please sing this title!)

2011-04-02T14:40:00.008+02:00

This week we marched right past our second anniversary in Wien. Hard to believe. As I thought about the last two years, I thought about the things that have taken place: buying things to go in a flat, enrolling kids in new schools, studying a new language, buying groceries, using new currency, writing numbers in a different way, buying bread by the truckloads, drinking coffee by the buckets … all new experiences that have now been mastered.

Then, as I began rummaging through my digital photo album on my computer, I thought about all the people that I didn’t know two years ago. Two years ago, I came with just the friends I had collected through my 40 years. However, in two years time, I have collected a spectrum of friends from all over the world.

Ok, so what is a “friend” anyway? When I’m in a pondering kinda mood, I choose to ask my friend Webster what he thinks. According to Webster (as in the dictionary if you are not following me) he says a friend is:

1. One attached to another by affection or esteem
2. One that is not hostile (Ha! This is my personal favorite!)
3. One that favors or promotes something
4. A favored companion

Webster then goes on to give synonyms of the word “friend”. I love synonyms. They make the world such a nice place to operate/live/exist/survive in. So, “friends” can also be referred to as … alter egos, amigos, buddy’s, chum’s, compadres’, comrades, confidants, cronies, familiar, intimates, mates, musketeer’s and pals.

It is now my life’s goal to quit using the word “friend „and begin using a new synonym every time I make reference to an alter ego.

Ok, being the very contemplative one, and filled with words that need to trip off my tongue and onto a page, I got to thinking about this collection of amigo’s I’ve acquired/gained/got. Some I see every day. Some I see seldom, but desire to see more. Some are acquaintances I’ve made through school. Some are chum’s that share the same sense of humor. Some have been thrown into my life through my daughters/offspring/reproductive outcomes. Some have been places in my life through shared job/career/calling. Some will leave soon. Some will linger in my life perhaps forever.

With this varied description/profile/report of compadre’s, it doesn’t take long before you see the handprint of God. Each crony, as varied/diverse/mottled as they all are, have one thing in common: they have been designed/considered/premeditated by the Creator of the universe. He knit them all in their mother’s womb. He chooses for them to cross my path/lane/corridor at this appointed time in my life. To me, that’s just fascinating (long pause for dramatic emphasis and reflection ...)!

So … as I look forward/onward/ahead into my future here in Wien, I wonder who else God might bring/transport/fetch to be my musketeer? One thing is for certain/sure/assured – it won’t be by accident/mishap/mistake. God, who knows how many hairs (grey and all!) dwell on my scalp, also knows the buddy’s He will allow to crash/collide/smash into my life. There will be a purpose, a time table and a result.

In honor of the mates He has put in my life so far … I made/prepared/completed a video that shows a glimpse of those pals that have been introduced/brought/shoved into my life these past two years. Now, I will be honest … there are a few pics of comrades that I’ve known for a really long time (Bettina, Marti, Shannon). I’d like to tell you some mushy/sentimental/heart- felt reason why they made the cut. Truth is – I needed more photos! Several pics are familiar’s of my daughters … which in turn have become my “friends” too!

Here’s to friendships/alliances/camaraderie! May the gift of relationships always be something we are grateful for … (Just a little technical note: when you click on the arrow to play this slideshow, you then need to push the play arrow once again to get the pics rotating. The music will begin and one photo will come up but if you don't push the play arrow the pics won't change.)

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And HE will make STRANGE your path!

2011-03-27T12:27:00.001+02:00

Eons ago … truly eons ago … Chris and I found ourselves teaching Proverbs 3:5-6 to a motley group of students sitting in a converted double-wide trailer which was being used as the Sunday school room for the youth group at Southpark Baptist Church. I know, it sounds like a low-budget movie scene, but alas it’s true. As we sang “and He will make straight your path”, little did we know how true the words would ring almost 20 years of marriage, 3 kids and another country later.

We have no radio in our van. We do have a radio in our hall closet, that has sat in the box in which it came in, almost 2 years ago, that hasn’t been installed. No radio for this music loving bunch of Elledge’s means singing in the car.

This past Friday, as I was escorting the queen (a.k.a. Libby) to school in our nonraido equipped van, we sang. We have quite the repertoire of songs … even have tossed about the idea of a mother and daughter CD. One of our favorites is the above mentioned diddy, Proverbs 3:5-6. We have a little harmony, a little repetition of the chorus … it’s quite nice if I do say so myself. The queen is 7 years old. She has been singing this song for at least … 7 years (she came out of the womb singing – she’s that gifted and I’m not exaggerating!) As she was wrapping up with a big finish, I noticed her singing … “and He will make STRANGE your path.” If you check your local Bible, the verse actually says, “and He will make STRAIGHT your path.”

That morning while eating breakfast, or perhaps the morning before, Parker the precious, Libby the queen and I read a Psalm that said something about God making our paths straight. We talked about what that meant … to them. So, being the ever mature one in the bunch, I took the opportunity to make a life message come alive right then and there in the van with Libby’s misquote of scripture. Wrong. I just laughed out loud. Perhaps not a very strong confidence builder for the queen but I couldn’t help myself.

“Libber’s … do you know what that song really says? It says … He will make STRAIGHT your path … not STRANGE your path.” She laughed, I laughed … life went on.

When I returned to my Chris at home, I told him the story. Out of his ever profound mind came the following … “She’s not so off is she?”

Let that sink in … He will make STRANGE your path.

Following God leads you down some strange paths. I won’t lie. Sometimes I’ve wondered if He had some strange cosmic joke he was playing and I was the pawn he was using to communicate the punch line. Sometimes I’ve wondered if He forgot the path He set my feet on … and the road map to go along with it. Sometimes I’ve thought it was too good to be true and I wasn’t a worthy recipient of the gifts along the path. Sometimes the pain was too tangible, I had to stop on the path to let out a battle cry.

And then, I smell the coffee on the breath of my Savior friend (my Jesus drinks coffee) saying:

Trust me – with all your heart – and lean not on your own understanding.
In all your ways – acknowledge me – and I will make STRAIGHT your STRANGE path.

It's not pretty, really!

2011-03-20T17:04:00.005+01:00

Good news about my Dad. After many tests, pokes, and prods, he is fine. With some minor instructions about watching cholesterol and weight, he has recovered at home this past week and will begin work on Monday! I’m so thankful for the good report. I’m so thankful we are not journeying down another path.

Speaking of weight, I just have to say something about what happened this week. OK, for the sake of a good story, I will subject myself to humiliation. Be prepared for what lies ahead.

I am a simpleton. I do wear makeup (it would be too cruel a joke to play on the rest of humanity if I didn’t) but not anything extreme. I wear simple lip shimmer, my favorite being Burt’s Bee’s lip shimmer (Rhubarb) which, alas, I am out of and cannot purchase here (giant hint!). However, the other day I was feeling, in a word, ugly. The weather was gray which seemed to match my face. I felt I needed some color. So, taking a risk, I chose colored lip stick that my Mother-in-love Shirley gave me over the summer, and I might add, said looked beautiful on me.

Thus, the story develops. Libby was at a friends’ house. Too bad it wasn’t an Austrian friend’s house, for perhaps they would not have understood her English well enough to know the deep scars she unknowingly inflicted on my vanity. It had been a long day. However, wearing my colored lipstick and feeling “pretty” I ever so confidently walked into these fellow Americans' house to retreive my beloved youngest child. Libby, being the outspoken, quick-to-say-what-she-thinks kind of girl, proceeds to say, “Wow Mom! Where’d you get those lips?” I slinked out of their house and haven’t been back since.

If that wasn’t enough, this past week Libby let another precious word bomb drop on my vanity. Praise God it was just in front of the Elledge 5, but a bomb none-the-less. As many of you know, I have to take medication for anxiety. The meds keep me “normal” (no comments please) but have one little draw back – weight gain. I deal with it, don’t like it, but there you have it. One night at dinner while it was just us girls (Addison, Parker, Libby and myself) I felt like sharing my struggle and feelings about the weight as a way to try to show them beauty isn’t what the media pushes but what lies within. I told them I felt that God wanted me to exercise and even though I didn’t really want to, I wanted to be healthy and obedient to God. However, again, I wanted to communicate being “pretty” comes from within … from the heart. So, I made a comment that even though I was chubby, I wanted to be beautiful to God.

Several days later, as we were preparing for dinner. The girls were putting homework away, there was hustle and bustle and I flippantly told Chris I had exercised that day. Libby, out of the depths of her heart says to me … “Mom, it’s ok that you are chubby. We have all just gotten used to it.” Gulp. Gasp. Enough said.

So, what’s the point of this blog? True beauty and confidence comes from within … from a place God grows. I gotta go … apply more lipstick and exercise some more!

School and Dad

2011-03-12T17:11:00.003+01:00

Chris and I started back to school this week. This is our last week of formal classes. We are completing our B2/2 level and will then take the B2 competency test in May. When we started this process of language learning it seemed like such a far off goal … and my faith in achieving it was … shaky. Now, after all these months of learning … I look back at this process of language learning and my faith is still shaky! Ha … you think I’m joking! Actually, it’s amazing … nothing short of a miracle that these two people have grasped a new language. There are all sorts of statistics that say learning a language past a certain age is very, VERY difficult. Let’s just say, Chris and I (Chris more than me) way surpass that “certain age”. Again, what God has done with our lips and vocal cords is truly nothing short of a miracle!

Speaking of school, (don’t you just love this smooth transition), Parker was a creative genius (she is just like her mother) this week. Not saying she isn’t always but this week her creative juices were at an all time high. Every year her school has a “Book Fair”. The week culminates in the elementary students dressing up as their favorite book characters. Parker chose “the pig” in the book If You Give a Pig a Pancake. Her paper outfit was designed and decorated with a little help from a friend. She did an AMAZING job!

This week we got to experience one of those moments that shake your foundation a bit and get you out of “normal” life. My sister called late one evening with the news that my Dad had to be taken to the Heart Hospital in Oklahoma City. He is still in the hospital but doing much better. They (don’t you always wonder who “they” are? In this case, the staff at the OKC Heart Hospital.) will do more tests on Monday.
Its funny how one little phone call changes a moment. I was lying in my bed (yes, I’ve become a granny) at 9:15 p.m. watching my usual episode of The Andy Griffith Show before falling asleep. After the phone call, Andy was put on pause while I began to do what all girls do when they don’t know what else to do … cry! We didn’t know many details, only that he was having difficulty breathing, but in my mind I fast forwarded to him passing away, me being an orphan and various other extreme situations.

After my girlish bout of the water works, I whispered prayers of help to my heavenly Father. Funny how talking to my heavenly Father about my earthly Father seemed to make everything OK. I still shed a few tears when my over active imagination kicked in about worse case scenarios, but when I snapped out of it I kept hearing my heavenly Father tell me that He was with my earthly Father … that He was holding his hand … that He was right in the middle of the situation. What could I do, anyway? I am a million miles away. I am not a doctor. I am … nothing.

Why is it in crisis our flesh kicks into super human ability mode and we strategize over what we think we can do? Really … can we do anything? It’s in those moments we have to settle into our humanness and do … nothing.

In doing nothing, it’s there I discover the something I can do …surrender. Surrender that we have no control over anything. Surrender that we are not infallible. Surrender that ultimately, life has a cycle … and must come to an end. Surrender that if we trust what we say we believe, surrender is when we really do what we were meant to do … activate faith in a loving Father who is the only One who is capable of having everything under control.

So, my white knuckles of gripping my life too tightly have once again been tested. While I stretch out my fingers and let the blood begin to flow I feel somehow drawn to be stiller … and talk to my Dad more … both of them!

Dorothy Hamel Eat Your Heart Out!

2011-03-04T15:52:00.003+01:00

In 1976, during the winter Olympics, Dorothy Hamel made a deep and lasting impression on me. I was young, very, very young. I lived in Montana where it was cold, very, very cold. Ice skating was popular, very, very popular. And, with my new found role model, I began skating lessons and got my hair cut like my Dorothy. That’s about as far as it went. Ok, so Dorothy made a short lived deep and lasting impression on me … but one thing stuck. I can still skate!

Sunday we all took to the ice. The Rathaus (our government building) serves as the backdrop to a winter skating wonderland during the winter months. I couldn’t believe the transformation. They cover the whole grounds with plywood (so those of us w/ice skates can walk about), install ice rinks and paths, construct WC facilities, have an on-site D.J. and host several wurst and hot punch vendors. It’s fantastic!

Parker has been going there once a week for school, but this was the first time we all went as a family. We packed a lunch, our skates (yes, we have our own like all natives do!) and spent the afternoon skating about.

After tucking away my skates during my Dorothy Hamel days, I have not been on a pair of ice skates since Chris and I went (on one of our first dates – be still my heart) over 20 years ago. Back then the sheer adrenaline of being with Chris set my feet to moving. Now, however, I wasn’t sure if that would be the case. After one round, Parker (my sweet used to be favorite child) says to me “Mom, I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d be any good but you are.” Out of the mouths of babes.

Such simple fun. Such simple goodness.

The rest of the week – a wash out! Monday and Tuesday Libby stayed home from school sick. Tuesday Addison and I start to feel bad. She and I stayed sick through today. Chris played nurse mate, taxi driver, Mom, cook, etc. Hats off to him, again!

Thought some pictures of the Rathaus might put wings to your images in your head of our time. Enjoy!

More of the Same ... More or Less

2011-02-25T14:23:00.004+01:00

Skating
Monday I finally got to see Libby skate. Her class goes every Monday, with only two more Monday’s to go. Last year, poor baby, she could hardly stand on the ice much less put one foot in front of the other in an attempt to skate. This year, the child zoomed past me, at one point on only one leg!

This week Parker finished her skating season. Every Tuesday her class went downtown to the Rathaus for skating. Chris went along this time as a parent helper. He didn’t skate, but he tied plenty of ice skates, drank hot punch, teased Parker endlessly in front of her friends and managed to help all the kids get safely back to school. Good job!

Laundry
This is how we do laundry. We have a washing machine and we do have a dryer … that doesn’t work. Actually, even if it did work, it uses so much energy and makes the house so hot and humid that being dryer less isn’t that much of a hardship. I’m not a mechanical minded person, so what I’m about to say will be laughable to the technical minded among us. Whatever kind of dryer we have (and it’s not common for anyone here to have a dryer) it sucks out the water from the clothes and keeps it in a container. You have to dump out the water periodically for it to continue to work properly. Anyway … enough technical talk – it’s hurting my brain. The point in all of this was to show you how we do laundry. Now, go and hug your dryers and thank the good Lord above you have one!

Chris, the Quicker-picker-upper
Today the Elledge girls have kept our Chris on the go. This is not especially noteworthy, but it’s funny. It’s also evidence why we call our Chris “Mr. Clean”.

So, this morning I’m walking up the stairs with my Bible in one hand and a perfect cup of coffee in the other. Instead of completing my task, I trip. My Bible goes flying, the cup of coffee soaking the steps, my Bible, my sweater, my hair, my face … even the back of my shirt. I hit my knee so hard (yep, the same knee I fell on when I fell down the steps while trying to text) I began crying. Chris rushes to see what all the commotion is all about … picks me and my coffee dripped stuff up and cleans down the steps and wall for me.

Then, we get a call from Parker’s school. She is sick and needs to come home. Chris goes to get her. On the way home, she needs to … um … (ok, there is no other word to say this) … puke. So, being the quick thinker he is, he grabs her backpack and has her … puke … into the backpack. He bring precious into the house and then goes upstairs to clean the puke filled backpack. What a guy! And, to constantly prove my point that all men have a bit of 7th grader in them, proceeds to tell me how many “chunks” he saw float down the drain!

And that, friends, is more of the same as last week ... more or less. Hope yours is filled with less spills and puke …

Normal life in Starbucks (But I had to save my money to buy my coffee!)

2011-02-18T09:03:00.006+01:00

I’m hanging out at the mall this morning - specifically Starbucks. And I feel I need to make this little disclaimer. I love ... LOVE the Austrian coffee culture. There is nothing that gives my heart more rapture than to sit in a typical cafe and slowly sip on my black, yummy goodness. However, most that I have discovered do not have internet. Thus, I am forced to sit at Starbucks and sip my tripple grande vanilla latte I've saved all week to purchase!

Although I’d say I’m a self-proclaimed home body, I do enjoy a good morning to myself, with a cup of coffee by my side, drinking in the flavor of the beverage and the day. I have no real plan … other than go to the post office, go to the health food store, pick up girls, throw in a load of laundry while waiting for the older girls to come home and then I’ll start making dinner. It’s just so nice (what a lame word) to sit, feel comfortable in my skin and surroundings and chalk it all up to a normal day!

So, what’s the big deal about a “normal” day? Nothing. Only when it seems your normal was a long way away … and you wake up one day realizing normal has been a state of mind for awhile – it’s noteworthy!

So, this is what my normal looks like this week:

* Addison has play practice (she’s in “You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown”) M, W, and Thursday after school.
* Parker empty’s the dishwasher before heading off to school (my favorite child! and is riding public transportation by herself since Addison has practice.
* Libby get’s picked up from school most days at 1:00. Then we “hang out” until the older girls come home.
* This week Chris was out of town all day on Monday and then left Wednesday to go to Johann and Romana’s house (the parents of our friend, Hans-Georg) and will return tonight.
* Tomorrow Addison has practice and we have Austrian friends coming over for American hamburgers.
* This week we are also host to two wonderful young ladies, Mia and Alana, while their missionary parents are at a conference. So, while Chris is drinking coffee and being served Martha Steward equivalent meals (I’m not bitter!) I get to play Mom to not my normal 3 girls … but to 5 … and loving every minute of it! (Last night we finished our day off by playing foot tag and Go Fish.)

Something that has also become normal is Austrian holidays. Yesterday was Fasching. According to the urban dictionary (a website I goggled) here is a definition of Fasching:
1. n: German; a week of partying leading up to Mardi Gras. Anything goes this week. During Fasching I went to 18 parties, was hung over six days, and had 248 alcoholic drinks.

That pretty much describes the holiday.

Wikipedia says: Carnival is a festive season which occurs immediately before Lent.

The day gets celebrated by school children by dressing up and having no schoolwork and a big party.

Funny how it’s become normal to see more enthusiasm put into this “party season” than any other time of the year. More participate in dressing up and party making than attend any type of evangelical experience.

… and that’s why we are here. To make a ripple in the lake of Austrian life … to make an eternal difference. And if we have to party a little to make it happen (like in good partying … you do know what I mean!) … let the festivities begin!

CLEAN

2011-02-13T14:15:00.001+01:00

While Chris was enjoying a conference with other like-minded leaders in Germany, the girls and I celebrated our week off by cleaning, cleaning out and cleaning up. Don’t be jealous!

While Addison has the deluxe pleasure of having her own room, the “little girls” (my Parker and Libby) get … (notice how diplomatically I worded that?) … get to share a room. In an effort to help Parker have some much needed pre-teen privacy, we have been in the process of redoing their room. Parker has traded her twin for a full-sized bed. We also spruced up old bedding with new and an old room divider with new paint. They (the “little girls”) actually painted the room divider themselves!

Now, before you start feeling super sorry for us little Cinderella’s we did get to celebrate at the end of the week by hosting a dear friend, Sheri, from Tucson, Arizona.

Sheri became my friend when we moved to Tucson, Arizona in 1998. She had two sons that became then 3 year-old Addison’s, playmates. Although our time together was short-lived, less than 2 years, God knitted us together. The strength of those stitches were seen and experienced during our weekend together. As we sat over coffee and pastries, and I rattled on and on about my deepest struggles and she sat there … ever so earnestly listening and offering pearls of wisdom … I praised God for the value of true, heart friendships! We did some sightseeing, drank some good coffee, ate a few pastries, but perhaps the most watering to my soul was the conversations around our dining room table just sharing life, laughing and reminiscing. I’ve often heard others declare that God uses His people to communicate aspects of Himself. God used my Sheri to communicate deep love and affection through the bonds of friendship. I feel so loved on by her … and my Father!

And, speaking of love … the girls have a Valentine’s Dinner planned for their Dad. Shhhh … it’s a surprise! It will happen tonight so don’t spill the beans! I’ll be sure to post pictures later!

2011-02-05T09:36:00.001+01:00

So glad to hear the news and rejoicing with you!!! All God's answers are Good, but I can't help to like "I'm going to keep you here for a while" the best -:)

This was an email I received this week. It came in response to an email I sent that declared God had answered our prayers regarding the granting of a VISA (not as in credit card but as in permission to stay in country. Ha,ha!) Isn’t that a great response … “all God’s answers are good”?

After she (my friend Rose, whom I have stolen numerous pearls of wisdom from) wrote that … I felt challenged. What if the VISA prayer had been answered “no”. Then what?

I just feel like a statement needs to be made as many have journeyed along with us on this VISA road. I felt God had asked me to ask Him for a miracle. I felt He challenged me to pray that in October 2010 … and confirmed the direction of that prayer this past week. However, the point needs to be made that had a promise to trust for a miracle had not come … and had the “good „answer been “no VISA”… God would still be good as well as His plan.

I guess I’m just hearing God say He is good (punct). Punct is the German word for period. It can be stated at the end of a sentence, but also when a point has been made. For me, saying “punct” carries along with it a Germanic heartiness that communicates a brick wall has just fallen and the point has thus been made irrevocable – unmoved – set. VISA granted, VISA denied, God is good – punct!

I recently heard a believing in Jesus person pray that all would go well in a certain situation. I echo that prayer … but then pondered on it a little longer. As humans, our flesh cries that all goes well. We cry that our children feel no pain, our car starts when we turn the key, our test scores pass, our church gets built, our parties succeed, our faith increases, our work gets rewarded and the list goes on and on. Yet if I’m honest … I’ve seen the face of my Jesus more clearly and felt the fear of an awesome God more strongly when my children felt pain, my car didn’t start, my test scored bombed, the church collapsed, my party was canceled, my faith weak, and my work unnoticed.

I will embrace that God hears and answers all my prayers. I will announce that He is worthy of all my praise. I will shout that my God is an awesome God. I will praise Him because He acted on my behalf. However, the next time I cry that all goes well and it doesn’t go as my feeble mind imagined … I’m begging God to give me the spiritual fortitude to be just as convinced that He heard and answered my prayer as I am in this moment with an approved VISA in my hand.

It’s a journey … and one well worth the steps.
It’s filled with tears of struggle and success.
Yet when into the eyes of my Jesus I gaze
and the only thing that matters is His embrace …
I will melt and fall with sheer relief
because I'll be home and home will be sweet.

Untitled

2011-01-30T17:31:00.001+01:00

As part of the P.E. program at school, my girls are ice skating. Ice skating is taken very seriously here. Everyone (and I mean everyone) has their own skates, their own bag to keep their own skates in, and skating paraphernalia (ski pants, helmets, etc.). It’s major! To be Austrian is many things … one of them is to know how to skate! In a few weeks we have a weeklong break called Energy Break. The girls and I plan on doing some serious skating then downtown at the Rathaus. That’s all I will say about that … so I don’t blow my blog for that week. Stay tuned!

This week Chris and I finish our last week of class in our B2/1 level. Only one more to go, B2/2 … and then THE test. Funny how we’ve gotten to this point. Way back in the days of A1/2 … I remember trying to carry on a conversation and having my brain go into spasms … after 3 minutes. Today we just got back from our friend, Walter’s home, having spent 4 ½ hours conversing … and my brian is OK (relatively speaking … I do have issues but that’s another blog!). Trust me; it’s not bragging about my German speaking ability … it’s totally bragging on a BIG God who can still do miracles! I just want to shout from the mountain tops that my God is BIG and when He makes promises … He keeps them! Chris and I saw, through only faith eyes, the day we would be doing this … and today … it has happened! I love my Dad … for keeping his promises and doing far beyond what I could even think or imagine!!

The Girls

2011-01-22T14:19:00.000+01:00

I’m dedicating this blog to a group of girls that shall remain nameless. If I mentioned their names, they would crawl into a hole, weep with embarrassment, nash their teeth in pain, turn every color of red imaginable, deny their own identities … in a word – die.

I don’t know why? They are all terrific young women! One of them, let’s call her Miss “D”, is a faithful reader of my blog and usually rates them on a scale from 1 to 10. She then reports her findings to “the girls” so they can read, too. She does this not only my blog but all blogs of all people she knows. We affectionately call her a blog stalker … and we love her for it!

I had the pleasure of spending a good portion of the day on Friday with these girls. As I prayed for each one of them this morning, God brought their little faces to my mind … and etched their little faces in my heart. My prayers were varied … for one to see the face of Jesus, for one to grow in her new found faith, for one to heal of family pain, for one to know she hears God, for one to have a good friend, for one to be a good friend, for one to grow further in her faith. All such different girls with different personalities – all so precious and dear to God.

Through “the girls” God reminded me again of my purpose in life. I am to proclaim faith, as Paul said in Titus 1:1, to those God has chosen and to teach them to know the truth that shows them how to live godly lives. I’m so thankful God has placed these young women in my life. Little do they know how I see them … already as women who will someday do the same … they will be the ones proclaiming faith to those God has chosen and teaching them the truth that shows them how to live godly lives. (Well I guess now the cat is out of the bag because I know Miss “D” is reading and she will rate and report to the “the girls”.)

So … let me speak directly to “the girls” … let me tell you all how much I love you … and see big things for you … because God loves you! AND, I’m glad you respect me now that you know I was a Theatre major in college!

More Packages

2011-01-16T15:26:00.002+01:00

We have adapted well to living in Europe. Every now and then we get those American “cravings”: a good hamburger, Braum’s Ice Cream, real soda. One does not see people walking around with Styrofoam cups filled with 44 ounces of ice and beverage. The biggest soda you see is the large from McDonalds … and you pay extra, generally, for ice. Every now and then, a Route 44 from Sonic calls our names …

Our sister-in-law, Becky, did something this week to sooth our Sonic craving. She sent us an empty (I’m still bitter) Route 44 Sonic cup! Having lived in Washington, she knows the anguish of not being able to zip through a Sonic drive-through and get such yummy goodness. This was her attempt to ease our pain and sympathize with our loss. Can I just say I laughed out loud when I opened the box!! We love Becky … and her sick sense of humor!

Then, our long awaited Christmas packages from Chris’ Mom finally arrived. We opened our gifts via Skype. It was the next best thing to being there in person. One by one we opened our little treasures in full view of the sender. The miles didn’t matter. Actually the gifts didn’t matter … ok, maybe a little (I love gifts!!). It was the experience of doing a traditional act together that mattered most.

In that moment, a strange thing occurred. We were greatly aware of the miles that stood between us. I was sad for the holidays that have gone and will go by that we are apart from her company. I counted the cost of following God … and it hurt.
Not long after our post-holiday celebration with Chris’ Mom my parents called. They were out and about and just wanted to call us. Hearing their plans for a normal Saturday afternoon in Oklahoma made me realize, too, how far our calling has taken us … how far it has taken us from family.

These are the moments that make you. These are the moments that test your will to be obedient. Despite the tissues and tears, this is when you know that being obedient to God is more important than jumping on a plane and heading home.
Last night as I was drifting off to sleep and talking with God, I told Him how thankful I am for a place called heaven. The costs, the sacrifices … will all be worth it.

Excuse me, I gotta go … I need to refill my Sonic cup and grab another tissue!

Bobble-head Bean to the Rescue!

2011-01-11T20:45:00.004+01:00

I'm missed my self-imposed deadline of writing a blog post every weekend. No one knows but me ... and it's killing me.

Truth is ... it's grey and cold and I'm tired! We call this the "ugly" season around here because it is ... ugly. The weather is ugly and our attitudes tend to get ugly, too. People are tired, sun-deprived, and ... ugly.

However, this week God gave us a shot in the arm to combat the uglies! Too bad I don't have pictures (I'm too tired to go get the camera and take one ... I'm sorry; am I being ugly?)

#1 Shot in the arm: Bobble-head Mr. Bean! Our friends Jeremy and Anda surprised us with a bobble-head Mr. Bean, Mr. Bean movie and taco seasoning. Friends, during ugly season Mr. Bean is the antidote! And, the fact that he's a bobble-head is twice the fun! Add to that the never seen taco seasoning packages and you've got one happy girl! We love you Jeremy and Anda! You guys rock!

#2 Shot in the arm: American Food! Our friend, Amanda, had a stash of American products she retained for our family. Here's what we got: 2 cake mixes, 1 can rotel, 1 can pumpkin, 2 packages chocolate chips, 1 box of brownie mix. To those of you living in the states this seems like an insignificant gift. However, living in a land where canned pumpkin doesn't exist (although I have learned to make my own from fresh pumpkin ... Martha Stewart eat your heart out!), rotel has never been seen, one makes their own chocolate chips by chopping up a chocolate bar, and saves their money for a 3 euro cake mix that doesn't hold a candle to Betty Crocker ... these things are a little bit of heaven! Amanda ... you may have my first child!

So, in a week of ugly, the bobble-head and brownies are keeping us going! If I'm not being ugly I may write again next week ... you'll have to wait and see!

Books and Wedding Anniversaries

2011-01-02T14:33:00.002+01:00

When last I typed, the holiday “magic” was still among us: wrapped gifts under the tree, secrets being kept, last minute plans being made. Now, gifts are unwrapped, secrets let out of the bag and plans followed through. Now how’s that for a cheerful perspective?

Actually, despite my melancholy words, I am looking forward to what the New Year holds. This time of year always forces me to reflect on the old and strain to see the new. That’s a good thing.

Right now I’m reading a book that is finding its way into my head and heart in a fresh way. The title: Your God is Too Safe. The author: Mark Buchannan. If you dare, read it. Recently I’ve taking to reading things the Holy Spirit leads me to … finding there is a deeper purpose. I’m certain the purpose of this book, alongside the scriptures it is leading me to deeper investigate, spur me into seeing God as the Beaver’s from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe saw the famed Aslan. “He’s not safe, but He’s good.”

So, good and bad, whatever comes into my life (due to my own poor choices or by God’s divine hand) I want to approach 2011 with that same perspective. When my dryer breaks and remains broken, I say … this is not some trick from an uncaring God … this will serve a purpose because my God is good. When my girls have problems with friends, I say … this is not a cruel and unkind God trying to punish them … this is allowed from a good God who loves them more than I. If I hear of a diagnosis for a loved one … or myself I say, this is not the result of something I have to pay for … this is the result of a good God showing me His loving-kindness when I need it most.

So, if you dare … read the book.

On another note ...
My Chris and I have been married 19 years. We celebrated … alone … for 2 days. Over all the years that have passed between us, it’s weird to see him not as I married him, but as I’ve grown older with him. My heart has not counted the lost hairs, jobs or faith in people. Instead, my heart has paid attention to the tears over hurt, prayers over me, uncertainty over life. My heart has grown over his courage in the face of fear, his loyalty over leaving and his humbleness when he could have chosen pride. Because I see him reading his Bible while eating breakfast, or see him kneeling by our bed when there is no one else upstairs, or hear him praying in the girls ears while they lay in their beds asleep … I love him. Because he fold clothes just to help me, tells me he’s sorry when I know I’m more at fault, and tells me I look beautiful when I feel like a grape … I love him. It’s the everyday stuff that goes routinely unnoticed yet somehow stands out when you reflect. It’s the everyday stuff that stacks up in your favor at the end of the day. It’s the everyday stuff that makes me glad I am the bride of my Chris.

In closing, read the book if you dare … and love others well.

Christmas Wrap Up (No pun intended!)

2010-12-19T14:44:00.003+01:00

Christmas Experience #2 … was going to be a wonderful stroll in a Christmas Market that a local paper described as “Vienna’s Best Kept Secret”. They had glass blowers, homemade crafts, and local music. The kicker – we didn’t go. Saturday was busy so we opted to do our experience on Sunday. Sunday was cold and we were tired and we had little "umpf” and we … well we just decided to go for Plan B. Plan B was an old black and white film, “The Bishop’s Wife”, nachos and being warm and cuddly in the house. Not so much of a “Wow” factor, but it was all what we needed … and wanted.

Christmas Experience #3 … was a hit. After regaining our “umpf” after last weekend, we picked the girls up from school Friday afternoon and whisked them downtown to an American Movie Theatre for the opening of the third “Narnia” film. I thought about making this blog all about my impressions of the film, however, seeing how that could take a few hundred … thousand words … I’m not going to (did I just hear someone whisper “Thank God”?). I will say (you knew I had to say something about the film) it was, in a word, superb! Despite the 3D glasses making me woozy (I get motion sickness in the elevator so can you imagine what experiencing all the action in 3D did for me!) the movie was just … again … superb! I could go on and on … but there I go again digressing!

The girls were surprised, enjoyed the film, and enjoyed the fact that when we came out of the film, feeling all warm and fuzzy by the various themes each of us applied to our own lives … it was lightly snowing! Ahhhh …

Then, the hunt was one for some street food! Our initial thought was to eat a Kebab … but alas we could not find one in the area. So, we took the U-Bahn (subway) to another station, knowing their Kebab stand would be open only to be disappointed. Traveling to one last Kebab stand, it was open and we all ate for 13 Euro!

As we walked in the snow to the car, eating our sandwiches and freezing our little toes off, I silently hid our evening in my heart. This Christmas will soon fade into the treasury of all Christmas’ past. The girls will go on to have their own adventures with their own families. But, for now, these are the things that make me want to hold every so tightly to the hands of my ladies, hug their little cold bodies longer and look at them for a really long time when they don’t know I’m watching them. These are the gifts they are unknowingly giving me.

I love Christmas.

Just Puttin' Up the Tree

2010-12-11T15:27:00.001+01:00

As I was putting the ornaments on our Christmas tree, I took a little trip. As I hung an ornament, depending on what period of time it represented, I was transported to the past as if I had booked a round trip ticket. So I don’t sound like a character out of Charles Dickens’ Christmas Carol, let me just give you a few examples:

We have this pathetic wooden teddy bear with scribbling on the backside of it. To the uninformed eye it’s a nasty little fragment of Christmas past. To Chris and me, it brings a tear to our eyes … ok to my eyes. When we were in Tucson, Arizona and Addison was 3 years old, we were on a very … VERY … tight budget. We decided that year to only give gifts to each other that we found at Goodwill. (I know this sounds pathetic but give it a few more sentences – it does get better!). Addison and I found this cute little teddy bear ornament for Chris and she “wrote” how much she loves her Daddy on the backside. Now, 12 years later, it doesn’t matter that it came from Goodwill … to us it’s priceless.

There are countless wreaths, a giant rocking horse and an angel with a head way too small for her huge body all made from paper. Some are laminated and some are not. Each one bears either the artistic expression or photo of a toothless grin from one of our daughter’s. Again, all priceless in my book.

Then, there is the ceremonial “Our first Christmas” ornament with the date 1991 paying tribute to Chris and me beginning our family. Along with that one are several others we acquired from a rag-tag group of youth that we had the privilege of knowing before marrying. Each one brings to mind the face of the person who gave it … forever keeping them a teenager although they are all grown adults with families of their own.
I just love the sappy and gushy part of this season. Funny how any ornament I acquire this year will hold a round-trip ticket down memory lane for years to come … I just don’t know it yet!

So … tomorrow is Christmas Experience #2. I won’t spill the beans because I have smart cookies for daughters and they will sneak a beak at the blog and my surprise will go down the drain along with my giddiness of keeping all these experiences surprises. You’ll just have to wait … but please don’t think it will top London. Let’s just make one thing clear … London was over the top, once in a life time, bigger than life and any other “big” quotes you can think of … BUT, despite the WOW factor, tomorrow will be a sweet memory none the less. You’ll just have to wait and see …

Jolly Ol' England

2010-12-05T17:27:00.002+01:00

I’m gonna just cut right to the case ... we took our girls to London yesterday. It was a day trip, waking up at 4:30 a.m. to catch a 7:00 a.m. flight returning at 11:00 p.m. last night. We kept it a surprise and sprung it on them once we arrived at the airport. Keeping it a surprise was no small undertaking. They asked questions, peeked into my purse (no names, PARKER!), and harassed friends – but to no avail!

Many years ago we decided to quit giving gifts to the girls. The grounds for this was for no spiritual conviction … we are just plain cheap! Not really, but kinda! We’ve been blessed w/wonderful and giving relatives, namely grandparents, who generously give to our girls. Because of limited resources, we were giving gifts that ended up in the bottom of the toy box or the give-a-way sack a year later. So, in a stroke of genius, one of the parents in this family (clear my throat to signal a hint that is was me) came up with the idea of giving “experiences” … and thus a tradition was birthed.

Every weekend in December, that’s exactly what we do – give experiences and the London trip was the kick-off for this season!

We did a hop-on-hop-off bus tour of London which took us to all the highlights there are to see in the old town. You name it, we saw it yesterday:

The London Eye,
Buckingham Palace,
Big Ben (Bus guide: “Can anyone tell me what time it is?” Chris: (looking at his watch) “12:10 pm, sir.” Bus guide: “Thanks.” (looking up at Big Ben). For those of you not up with your London trivia, Big Ben is the biggest clock like in … the world!
Westminster Abbey,
Tower Bridge,
Tower of London,
London Bridge (thank God it wasn’t falling),
Trafalgar Square,
St. Paul’s Cathedral,
Horse Guard’s Parade,

And a lot of other places … like the place Princess Dianna wed Prince Charles which also happens to also be the place that the old woman fed the pigeons in the film Mary Poppins. Speaking of pigeons, they carry over 90 diseases and so the city of London had to do something about the pigeon population at Trafalgar square. I don’t know what they did … (makes you wonder) but I didn’t see any pigeons in Trafalgar square yesterday. Hmmm … sounds shady to me.

Anyway, yesterday was an awesome day. One that will go down in the memory books of our heads and hearts. It was the stuff that memories are made of … one that I won’t soon forget.

P.S. If you are a praying to Jesus person, the reason we went to London was for VISA purposes. You may ask privately what that is all about … but suffice it to say we’d appreciate your prayers for a VISA miracle in January.

2010-11-27T09:12:00.005+01:00

Many of you know that often times ... more than often times ... ok, almost always ... I process life through words. It's some weird (a good weird) way God has wired me. This morning I knew I was to write, so I wrote a little email to Chris' Mom. After I wrote it I thought "Hey, why reinvent the wheel? I'm using some of this for the blog." Now I cut all the really gushy personal stuff I wrote to her out. That is just for her to do with as she likes. However, my personal reflecting I did keep. So, please take a peek into my heart this morning.

Well, we woke up to snow covered ground this morning and its cold ...and it does put me in mind for the holidays.

Last night Parker and I cut sweet potatoes, shredded bread for dressing, made a carrot cake and frosting, mixed up a green bean casserole, cut veggies for snacking, burnt cranberries (at 2.99 Euro a package and I had two packages!!), cut onions and garlic and other seasonings for dressing, and assembled ingredients for a chocolate pie to be baked today ... AND ... ordered pizza because we were too pooped to fix anything to eat for dinner!!

Even though today isn't really Thanksgiving, it does feel like a holiday to us! Funny how what you do traditionally, no matter what day you celebrate, actually feels like a holiday.

Its funny how when you are doing life (the everyday stuff) you know you are not "home" but it doesn't seem abnormal. However, the holidays are though! You carry with you nothing when you arrive here ... nothing you can see. No furniture, few clothes, no dishes etc ... however, it's the holidays that remind you how many memories you've tucked away in your suitcases without even knowing they were there ... until they unpacked themselves each year around this time. The same will be true of Christmas...

I just wanted you to know the value I put on the things no one else see's in my life ... my little memories. These are the things I treasure most. These are things that will live on ... in the minds and hearts of my girls ... and I've got to believe that these are the things God tucks away(not sure how this measures up biblically, but it makes me feel good so I'm putting it in here), these good memories, in His suitcase and unpacks for us to share and repeat over and over again.

There are 3 young ladies who have tucked countless memories in their suitcases ... who knows where and when they will unpack them. My goal is to live so obediently to God that when they unpack the ones that concern me, they will be filled with gratitude, hope and pee-your-pants offlaughter! God willing I will still be alive for them to call me up, wherever they may find themselves, and share them with me over the phone!

Off I go! Let the festivities (and memory packing) begin!

Umm ...

2010-11-19T10:35:00.004+01:00

So where has the time gone? A virus here and there, full-time language school, mothering, cooking, and caring for sick kids … other than that I have not been up to much!

As I type, it’s raining outside, it’s cold, and I’m gearing up for a weekend in Salzburg. Here’s a bit of reality. When I say something like I just said … it has very little meaning for me. However, I recognize that when you here that … you are thinking romantic thoughts about the Sound of Music (that’s where some of it was filmed). You wanna hear how romantic it’s gonna be?

16 teenage girls
Sleeping on the floor of a church
Eating at McDonalds
Sitting all day on hard benches
Driving a big honken 10 passenger van

I'm going as a sponsor for Addison's Volleyball team. This is the last tournament of the year. They needed help ... so I volunteered (what was I thinking?).

Actually, my friend Tatiana, a fellow language student from Moscow, reminded me yesterday that these are the times that are important for our kids. These are the things they will remember us doing. Isn’t that sweet? Addison better remember this because I’m gonna have the dark eyes and stiff back to prove it!

Fall

2010-10-31T16:11:00.002+01:00

Fall Festival

Friday night at the older girls’ school they had a Fall Festival. There were “goodies” served. However, when I go to things like this, I am subtly reminded that I am in another country. Goodies: Bundt cakes, Asian noodles, apple strudel, flat bread, fruit cake, tangerines, Swiss chocolate, a host of delectable baked breads, Indian vegetable pockets … did I forget anything? You can tell right away what the Americans bring … no bake cookies and potato chips. How uncreative is that?

Fall Food

Despite the time change, more clouds, and less sun, I am gearing up for fall in Vienna. Everything is seasonal here.

Pumpkins are in season, so you can get pumpkins in every sort, size and shape. The best pumpkin soup on the planet is found in any café in Vienna.

I just saw my first Maroni vender the other day on my way to the U-Bahn (subway). Maroni (chestnuts) is sold only this time of year through the end of December. You can get them from vendors who roast them on large black kettles. You get about 6 for 2 euro … and since I just found out that they have little fat and lots of vitamins … I’m saving every penny to indulge in this seasonal treat!

Fall Holidays

Tomorrow is a catholic holiday, All Saints Day. I’m just gonna copy what the Wikipedia says about it. All Saints' Day (in the Roman Catholic Church officially the Solemnity of All Saints and also called All Hallows or Hallowmas[1]), often shortened to All Saints, is a solemnity celebrated on 1 November in Western Christianity, and on the first Sunday after Pentecost in Eastern Christianity, in honor of all the saints, known and unknown. In terms of Western Christian theology, the day commemorates all those who have attained the beatific vision in Heaven. It is a national holiday in many historically Catholic countries. In the Roman Catholic Church, the next day, All Souls' Day, specifically commemorates the departed faithful who have not yet been purified and reached heaven. Christian denominations celebrate All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day because of the fundamental belief that there is a prayerful spiritual communion between those in the state of grace who have died and are either being purified in purgatory or are in heaven (the 'church penitent' and the 'church triumphant', respectively), and the 'church militant' who are the living. Different Christian traditions define, remember and respond to the saints in very different ways.

We live in what has been a traditionally catholic country but now borders on post modernism. The lines are obscure between catholic traditions, superstitions, and untrue Biblical theology. Older people take seriously this holiday. Young people are just glad to get the day off. However, the wreaths and candles that are sold to lie on the graves of the dearly departed are as common as seeing boxes of Christmas cards at Wal-Mart.

Just another reminder that this place we call home is so blind to the freedom … even in death … of knowing a personal savior.

Ich komme aus den U.S.A.

2010-10-25T20:38:00.002+02:00

The above translates, "I am from the U.S.". This week in class we had to give presentations about our homelands. It was so interesting. Then, we also spend a lot of time learning about Austria, its history, its heritage.

Tomorrow, October 26, is an Austrian National holiday. Last year I was just glad to get a few days out of school. This year I've been intrigued by the reason my countrymen celebrate.

The signing of the Austrian State Treaty re-established Austria as a sovereign state. From 1945-1955 Austria was occupied by the Soviet Union, the USA, the United Kingdom, and France. Our current hometown was divided into these 4 zones as well.

The treaty granted Austria recognition as a permanent neutral country and prohibited the political union with the new Germany and Nazi and fascist organizations.

Tomorrow we are going to go to Heldenplatz and celebrate Austrias independence. Ironically, the very place Austrians will celebrate is the same place that in 1938 Hitler made his announcement of the Anschluss of Austria to the German Reich.

Making history in historical places,
Christina

We don't live "The Sound of Music"

2010-10-10T12:03:00.003+02:00

This morning it is brisk and sunny so I took a walk around my neighborhood. In 35 minutes I made some observations. It boils down to one statement: We don’t live in the "The Sound of Music". When most of you think of Austria, you think rolling hills covered with fat cows sporting loud bells, quaint cottages decorated with overflowing flowerboxes, and friendly people with traditional folk dress singing in the streets. Let me just go ahead and burst your bubble. (Pop!)

Now, some of that does exist, but not in Vienna … at least not in my neighborhood. It’s dirty with wall-to-wall 6 to 8 story apartment buildings. There are lots of people but no one talks to you. This morning as I was out I noticed lots of little old people gathering on street corners making small talk while they returned back from a morning walk. As I tried to get a glimpse of their faces, I was reminded why I am here. Lostness.

Not a whole lot more to say this week other than a reminder for you to pray for the people in Vienna … more specifically the people in my neighborhood. Statistically speaking, less than 1% knows Jesus. They live in a culture that is far removed from God. They live in a culture that is rapidly being further removed from morality.

Would you come over? Is there a role for you to play? What would God do with several, walking around my neighborhood and the neighborhood’s of other team mates, for 35 minutes every day for a week?

The Merry Widow

2010-10-03T10:33:00.001+02:00

That’s me. I’ve been a not-so-merry widow since last Sunday. Chris left early Sunday morning for a conference in Germany, arrived home Thursday night, only to leave again Friday afternoon and won’t be back until tonight.

I think I am an independent woman. Not in a super feminist kind of way, just in a self-sufficient yet biblically submissive kind of way. However, whatever image I’ve had of myself has been somewhat altered by Chris’ absence.

I’ve learned that I am scardie cat. At night, I grab my little glass of water, my computer, and head upstairs for my bedtime rituals. Chris, on the other hand, checks all doors, turns off lights, and locks the front door before he heads upstairs. These are things I do not think of … they are just not on my radar.

I’ve learned I am somewhat pampered. I enjoy cooking. I cook, make a mess, clean it up, but then never, NEVER take the trash to our Mullraum (that’s our little room in the other building adjacent to ours that it takes a key to get into, you have to separate your trash, and it stinks.) Chris always does this.

Finally, I’ve learned I don’t sleep well when Chris is not in the house. When he is here I sleep like a baby, most nights. I don’t worry that a bad guy might come in and pillage our flat. I don’t worry if that little sound was something catching on fire. I just sleep.

All the above to say, I LOVE MY CHRIS! I love that he makes me feel secure, take the trash out, and if a bad guy did come in … he could take him! He’s my hero! Honey, come home!!!

Just doin' Life

2010-09-25T11:04:00.006+02:00

This week I heard my language teacher, Barbara, say (in German of course) "September is what we Austrians call old lady weather. It's not too hot, it's not too cold, it's just right." Barbara is a prophet. That's exactly what we experienced this week. One day after school, I was feeling like a Mother-of-the-Year candidate so I decided to surprise the girls by putting off homework and all other after-school routines by throwing caution to the wind and going to the park. That's just what we did. While they threw their hands in the air like they just didn't care, I did a little homework ... ok, so I tried to do a little homework. I mostly sat in the sun and drank my favorite little treat drink, Cappy, and pretended like I was doing my homework.

Side note. I'm trying to add a picture, then write about the picture, then add another picture, then write some more ... but I can't get it! Justine, or anyone else who is a Blog expert please help!

Ok, so ... back to the matter at hand.

This week we got three packages from home. One of them was actually a package that was sent early in July, was addressed to Parker, was sent back to the states and was lost, reported as stolen, only to be found and sent back to Shirley (Chris' Mom), the original sender, who then sent it right back to us, but addressed it to Chris. Whew! That wore me out!

Lesson learned: always send something to us under Chris' or my name.

The other two were from Chris' sister, Lori. She is adorable! She sent all of us girls late birthday surprises. She took Hershey's candy bars, put labels on the back addressed to each one of us, and then a great chocolate quote. It was so much fun! She is one of the most thoughtful people I know. She is always doing something little to remind us the beauty of family, the joy in friendship, and the simplicity of life.

But, one of the best things we got in our packages this week was ... a little blue porcelain car. Chris' Mom has had this little jewel sitting on her stove for at least 53 years. (OK, I just randomly picked that number ... I really don't know how long it has sat there.) Anyway, she put it in a little package and attached a note that said, "This has sat on my stove for years. I have kept toothpicks in it. Keep it on your stove and everytime you get a toothpick you can think of me." Awwwww ... group hug! Is that not the sweetest thing?! When I showed it to Chris, I swear that big ol' 48 year-od man melted into a 7 year-old boy and shared his memories of always seeing that little car on his mother's stove. At one point, she kept matches in it. So, guess where this little blue car now sits? On my stove, with matches in it. You better believe everytime I see that car I will think of my dear Shirley (that's the new name I'm giving her ... I will no longer call her my mother-in-law ... from here on out she is my dear Shirley.)

Just doin'life,
Christina

I'm Sick of It ...

2010-09-18T09:56:00.002+02:00

Sound dramatic? It should. We, the Elledge Clan, are officially sick of fall allergies … or sinus stuff … or a virus … or whatever it is that is playing havoc with our systems! We are fighting back:

Himalaya sea salt inhaler (clears out the sinus cavity and helps sooth the throat)
Vitamin C (enough to kill a horse)
Aloe Vera Juice (gone through 3 bottles the last 3 weeks)
Hot tea with Tannini syrup (for the throat)
Natural throat lodgens (they are called Hals Bonbons here!)
Lots and lots of fresh carrot juice (we have a juicer, you know!)
Ok … and when that doesn’t work good ol’ Ibuprofen and Tylenol (to help with the aches and pains)

I know the above makes us sound like total health freaks. The truth is, this stuff works. The other truth is we are getting older and feel the need to really be cautious about what enters our bodies. Does it all pay off in the end? The truth is in the end the body will die. In the meantime, I feel obligated to be a good steward of this aging frame the Lord has given me.

It is frustrating, however … can I vent? (Of course I can this is my blog!) For years I have taken an antidepressant to fight off anxiety. Just telling you that makes me a little anxious – just kidding! Anyway, one of the side effects is weight gain. Now, that I’m getting older (I hate saying that) it’s not so easy to get it off. To some of you, older and wiser than me, this is no secret to you. However, I am just entering this phase of realization and it’s a bummer. It doesn’t help matters that I, who have been the ever faithful exerciser, have not been ever faithful since we moved overseas. No excuses. Just plain ol’ lazy.

This morning I jogged. I thought I would die, but I jogged. The real battle came when I was still in bed contemplating the jog. I was sick of being out of shape! But, I was also irritated that just restricting my diet would not cut the mustard (or the extra pounds). So, I fought the urge to sleep and put on my tennis shoes and hit the pavement. It wasn’t pretty. I coughed. My nose ran. I sweated. But I did it. The goodness of God brought me back in a good attitude (and fighting for breath!) I knew I had been obedient. The results … hoping it will make a difference in my pant size, but right now just knowing I took the next step are enough!

And the beat goes on ...

2010-09-11T09:44:00.003+02:00

If you are not from my generation or older, you probably don't know this famed Sonny and Cher song title. Poor you. The lyrics are so deep and life changing: "And the beat goes on, and the beat goes on (and then something, something and then back to) and the beat goes on." Ok, so I don't know all the words. I'm not sure if there are many words, but I remember the main theme: "THE BEAT GOES ON."

So this week my family in Tennesse said their final goodbyes to my Uncle Johnny and Libby started back to school. Both events seem significant on their own; side by side they represent the flow of life.

This week, having a week of school under her belt, Libby will remember that the beat goes on ... and so will my dear Aunt Annie.

Libby is repeating the first grade. Last year was a tough year. We wouldn't repeat the experience, but we are grateful for what we and she learned as we walked through it.

Her experience this year is light years different from last years. She can't wait to get to school. She feels confident. She is operating in her full identity and not traped in fear and uncertainty. Last year we lived in a state of endurance. This year we are experiencing ease.

I could go on and on ... but them I would begin to bore you. Let's just say we are so thankful that God is faithful and we are in a new season!

On a totally random note, I just watched the movie "Julie & Julia". Has anyone seen it? I really liked it on so many levels!!! In fact, I'm so inspired by the blog storyline I want to get some input from you, the reader. Let me know what you'd like to see, what you like/don't like about my blog, etc ... I'm just curious to see who's out there. Go on, make a comment. Make my day ... and perhaps inspire me to write a book! You could be the guest star of a movie!

Farewell

2010-09-06T14:36:00.002+02:00

I just got the phone call from my sister, Bettina. Uncle Johnny just passed away about 2 hours ago. It was a sweet passing; he was holding his daughter, Amy's, hand. As he dropped her hand on earth, I know he took the hand of Jesus in heaven.

When I got to go home to see him, I took a notebook with me and jotted down everything little thing he said that I wanted to remember. Those would be of little consequence to you. However, on the day I left Tennesse, I was impressed to write down all my impressions and reflections about the time I had spent with my Uncle.

I just want to simply copy my entry:

Friday, August 6, 2010

Reflections after saying goodbye:

Johnny's attachemnt to the land ...
His desire for his children to follow God ...
His devotion and love for Annie ...
His gratitude that I was able to come; said I was the least person he'd expect to see - and that was God's gift to him ...
The link between Johnny and Abraham (of the Bible) ...
Struck by Johnny's physical weakness ...
Loved seeing how well-loved he is by his church family ...
Holding hands ...
His quickness to say thank you for coming ...
"Glad I got to know ya"

end of entry.

Of all the things that brings tears to my eyes, it's the reading of the "Glad I got to know ya" that sends me to crying. I can hear his voice in my ear. I can hear his pride and authenticity as he stated what his heart felt.

My Uncle Johnny's life will not be recorded in any history books. His obituary will appear like thousands of others before him. However, my Uncle Johhny will be an ever-present reminder to me of the power of family, the richness of knowing from where you come, and the undeniable power of love.

I think we both knew that when he spoke those words to me in the hospital just a few weeks ago "glad I got to know ya" they would be the last he would speak to me this side of heaven. However, it is I who am grateful for the privledge of knowing him. For knowing him ... and being loved by him has made me a better person.

So the tears come and the longing to hug his dear wife Annie, sweet daughter Amy, and sons Randy and Jeff pull on my heart. The grieving begins too, but grieving not whithout hope. For it's in these moments, moments of temporary loss, that we can make a statement to the world that our grief isn't based on goodbye. Our grief, for those who put their trust in Christ Jesus, is because of our humanness. However, our spirits soar with the promise that heaven awaits ... and it won't be long before we too will finally be home.

Welcome Home, Uncle Johnny.

A Boring Saturday

2010-08-28T14:05:00.002+02:00

I love boring Saturday's. Addison is gone to Volleyball conditioning. Chris is watching an old movie in German. Parker is eating applesauce. Libby is doing ... whatever Libby does when she's quiet. I'm sitting in front of the computer, with a sweater on because it's quite breezy and cool. I love it!

The little girls and I took a bike ride this morning. I got a new bike this week. Its very 42 year-old friendly ... HUGE seat! It's called a "pleasure bike" due to the fact it looks like an old fashioned one with wide tires and handle bars that keep me from bending over and no gears. I can't wait to buy a big basket to add to the back. Yes, I look like an old lady but I don't care!

After I get done typing, the little girls are going to do a little "tidy". They hate it. I try to make it fun. I set the timer for a designated period of time, try to muster all the energy I can from way down deep inside me and we clean and tidy until the timer goes off. We take each room one by one, all gathering and cleaning at the same time. Since I start full-time language school this Monday, I feel the need to be organized ... at least in theory!

I believe our summer is gone, making way for cooler temps and breezy winds. I don't mind however I am disappointed that the sun will go away. It seems we didn't have so much sun this summer ... and now I won't see it again until next spring. But alas, maybe I'm jumping the gun. Maybe the fall will surprise me with extra rays this year.

So, this is what happens on a boring Saturday: I ramble. But hey, isn't that what BLOGS are for...

Bis spater (Until later)
Christina

Where's My Ruby Reds?

2010-08-22T11:45:00.002+02:00

Shoes that is ... ruby red shoes ... like Dorothy had in the Wizard of Oz? She spent the whole movie trying to find her way back home when all she had to do, according to Glenda the good witch, was to click her little toes and she'd bee-line it back to Kansas. All she wanted was at the click of her feet. However if she had clicked earlier, the movie would have been too short, box-office profits too low and we would not have gotten to see the flying monkeys tear the scarecrow to bits … and give us bad dreams … and haunt us still after all these years!

Living in Vienna for the past year and a half, I have looked back from time to time at the things from home with way too much fondness: Braum’s, air conditioning, the purple room at my parents home, the #5 burger at Boomerang. Braum’s was delightful, but I must say the ice cream down the street at Kenny’s Eis is just as good if not better. Air conditioning was great but left my allergies in chaos and my throat sore. The purple room was occupied. The #5 was good … ok, really good … but nothing like I had imagined my reunion would be. The only thing that was as sweet as I remembered in my mind was the relationships. Relationships with The Vine, friends and family … those were the things that seemed little altered by the strain of time and distance.

So, if what Dorothy was looking for was at her fingertips … or toe tips all along … what was it I was looking for? I don’t have a clue! The only thing I know is that “home” felt familiar but not like my “home” here in Vienna. I found out that “home” is where my Chris and girls are … and where God has put me. I’ve known that all along but somehow my vision was a bit clouded by the lack of Braums, AC, the purple room and the #5. Having had all those things and still feeling like I wasn’t home realigned the truth that is reality.

It helped that my reason for going home was to say goodbye to my dear Uncle Johnny. I got the privilege of sitting in his room with an empty journal and a waiting pen. Every time he had the energy to share a story or update genealogy I wrote. This experience strangely put my live in perspective. It’s not Braum’s, it’s not AC, it’s not purple rooms … and it’s not even #5’s that make life what it is. It’s the relationships.

I come “home” with fewer expectations. I don’t expect to desire those things I’ve left behind as much. I do expect to pour more into the relationships God has so graciously given me here … and at “home”.

A Whirlwind Experience

2010-08-03T19:01:00.002+02:00

As I sit in the Detroit Airport on my way to see my Uncle Johnny in Knoxville, Tennessee, I am amazed at how swiflty God has acted on my behalf.

The long and the short of it:
1. Thurday night I went to bed wondering if I was supposed to go see my Uncle Johhny. I ended my night by asking the Lord to show Chris if I was supposed to make a journey home.
2. Friday morning get an email from a dear friend who says not to worry about a ticket - it's covered.
3. Chris and I go through with our breakfast date Friday morning and Chris shares with me his heart. He felt I was supposed to go see my Uncle Johnny ... and make a trip back home to Oklahoma.
4. Needed to know how I was gonna get from Knoxville to Oklahoma City. Ticket prices were crazy. I felt God tell me to call my parents.
5. Upon hearing JoAnn's voice on the phone, she proceeded to tell me they just decided to make an emergency trip to Knoxville to see Johnny before he took a turn for the worse. God provided the way for me to get from Knoxville to Oklahoma City.

Much has happend and I haven't even laid eyes on my dear Uncle. I'm sleep deprived but so thrilled to be escorted by my DAD on every step of this journey.

More to come ...

A Feast for Antwone and Me

2010-07-25T10:44:00.003+02:00

Living in Europe is a wonderful experience with wonderful challenges … like trying to remain cool with no AC when it’s 95 degrees! I’m making it sound more dramatic than it is. We sleep with the windows open at night to get cool air inside. Then we trap it in the morning by shutting all the windows. Our Austrian friend’s leave their homes like this throughout the day. We keep fans on to stir the air and try to keep a bit cooler. However, yesterday God gave us a wonderful reprieve from the heat; cloudy, rainy, and cool (the high was 66).

Taking advantage of this cool front, I had the pleasure of taking a walk with Addison. In our neighborhood there is a great second hand store. (Ok, if the truth be known it’s a Pawn Shop, but that just makes it sound seedy … and this place is not seedy so I like to call it my little second hand store.) Every now and then I find a good deal on a German DVD. Yesterday I found a 2003 film, Antwone Fisher. Denzel Washington was in it so I figured it was a good buy.

As the film unfolds, Antwone Fisher is an adult who is forced to go to a Psychiatrist. During the sessions, he begins to unveil his abusive childhood and we discover the root of Antwone’s life struggles: abandonment. He never felt loved, secure, or valued.

There is a scene in the movie in which Antwone is having a dream. In this dream he imagines himself the center of a large family gathering. Food in plenty is placed on the table. Guests focus on him and his place at the table. It’s very moving. I won’t spoil the movie if you haven’t seen it, but the end of the movie replays this scene, only it no longer is a dream but has become reality.

I was struck by two things.

One is the reality of this same scene being played out one day in my own life. The Bible tells me that one day I will live in heaven with God. He will have a feast prepared for me and all those who know Him. What will that be like? I could imagine me being escorted by an angel into the most beautifully Martha Stewart decorated room. Among those present at the table would be family members who have died, a childhood friend who died young, perhaps my favorite people from the Bible … like Job or Enoch … and I could in vision my Mom at the head of the table pointing to a nicely refurbished antique chair with a soft cushion on it urging me to come and sit and eat. Oh my goodness that gives me the tingles. It gives me the tingles because I know one day I will experience such a scene … only better!

I was also struck with the image of the imprisoned Antwone. He was imprissoned by his past. His heart longed to be valued and loved but his heart found no rest. To me, Antwone is a symbol of the plight of those in my country (and countries all over the world) who feel the same way. Despite cultural difference, God has put within all of us a sense of belonging … in His words … He has set eternity in our hearts. Yet most have never discovered there is freedom from the hurt in a relationship with God.

So on this cloudy, rainy, and cool Sunday morning, I sit and pray for those who like Antwone are in prison. I pray God will make me bold enough to share the key to freedom … and make you aware of those in prison around you.

There is always hope … and a feast to look forward to!!

Summer Days

2010-07-19T10:43:00.005+02:00

Since last we met ...

... our visit with the Godins, our family in Ohio, had not happened. They were a highlight for our summer. After sending us on quite the emotional roller coaster with their "we are coming"/"we are not coming"/"we are coming for sure" routine due to the uncertainty of military space A travel, we enjoyed 7 wonderful days with them. It was fun showing them around our city, getting to experience a weekend ER visit with Mike, finding an open Pharmacy on a Saturday, taking a picnic in the hills, having a monster day of sightseeing, sweating like pigs, laughing like madmen, drinking too strong coffee, taking dates with our nieces, and ... did I mention laughing like madmen! I don't know what it is about the Godin presence, but whenever they are around we laugh better and harder than when we are with anyone else on the planet! Oh how sweet our memories of our time spent with them.

... we had not yet been on our vacation to Kapolcs, Hungary. This was another highlight for our family. Staying in a rose covered cottage in a valley village, we swam in the nearby Lake Balaton, got tan, ate Langos (a local fried bread dripping with garlic), visited Tesco (the European version of Wal-Mart) way too many times to count, enjoyed a typical Hungarian dinner prepared by our hosts who just happened to be a native born Hungarian that immigrated to the U.S. during the 1956 revolution and his American wife from Chicago, shopped a flea market not knowing how to ask "How much is this?" in Hungarian, rode in a boat in an underwater thermal river, and on our last night ate S'mores under the stars with new friends Gaston and Linda (he is Hungarian and escaped the revolution in 1956 to make his fortune in New York, City and met his native New Yorker wife.) while listening to American Rock-n-Roll from a nearby Hungarian village festival!

This rather simplistic version of the last few weeks doesn’t capture the sights, sounds and emotion of the happenings … only a chapter in a novel could capture the true experience. Suffice it to say we feel rested in mind and body and closer to one another because of the time spent.

Here’s to the rest of the summer!

Vacation

2010-07-08T10:02:00.001+02:00

Today we leave for 10 days of vacation in Hungary, in a cottage ... could live get any sweeter? I'm gonna be "out of pocket" for a while ... so don't fret! I'll be back soon!

WRITE AND SEND

2010-06-26T12:29:00.004+02:00

“write and send” ... curious words. I read them this morning in Revelation 1:11. These words were given to John while he was exiled for sharing his faith. In exile, on a day of worship, God gives him a vision. The first instructions about this vision were: “write this stuff down and then send it to the churches” (the new Austrian Christina version).

When I read those words … “write and send”… they jumped right off the page and settled deep in my heart where passion for words live.

We recently attended a retreat designed to look at you as a person (personality/gifting) and then compare that to what you bring to the table in a team context. One of the aspects of the tool was to examine those things that motivate you. If you scored higher than 80 in those areas, those were no longer an interest for you but rather a need. My top three things that motivated me were … Literary, Outdoor, and Artistic interests. Seeing those things on paper made me understand why I need to write, be outdoors and be creative. It’s been a very light bulb kind of experience for me. I’ve known those are interests for me, but knowing those are also things that fill a need in me means something different. Somehow knowing its something God has put in me, creating me this way, makes me want to be a really good steward of these interests.

I have no idea what this means. I come away from the table this morning with a need to … “write and send.” Perhaps it just means I will write more blog entries … more journal entries … more notes to my family … who knows. Then again, it could mean there is something I am supposed to “do” with this drive to put letters on paper to be read. I don’t have a clue.

All I know this morning is that I feel a little like John, exiled on an island, hearing from God. Here I sit on my patio, writing, sending …

I’m including some of the photos I’ve taken to fulfill my artistic expression …

Enjoy life this week …
Christina

It's A Slow News Week ...

2010-06-21T15:49:00.003+02:00

Yep. Nothing new, abnormal, strange, or exciting going on around here. That means I get to share with you my ongoing "assignment" of making cultural observations. As I am out and about my fair corner of the world, here are some of the things that have caught my attention.

1. Now that tourist season is upon us, the number of professional beggars has taken an upswing.

2. There are NO car advertisements. Plenty of furniture ads ... like thousands ... but no car ads. This tells me there isn't a big market for auto buying.

3. The city of Wien was rated the number one place in the world to live. One of the criteria was friendliness of the people. This puzzles me ...

4. Austrians think a bald head is a sign of a good lover.

5. I've seen more dwarfs (I'm not sure what the politically correct term is here ... I'm not trying to be offensive ... can I call them "little people"?) here in Wien in the last year and 3 months than in my entire life.

6. When there is a public holiday, people really know how to take the day off!

7. Drinking wine is just a part of the culture here as drinking sweet tea is in the South.

8. Austrians obey rules ... and expect you to do the same.

9. There is a large population of Turkish people living in Wien.

10. There are still small communities in Austria in which the inhabitants where the traditional lederhosen ...

Still enjoying learning about the people in this place we now call home. It's fun to continue to explore and

Summer!

2010-06-14T18:38:00.002+02:00

Summer is here! Having survived the bleak winter, we will take all the sun we can get. Fortunately, God had the foresight to allow our flat to be mere blocks away from the Donau River. This river is our city’s playground during the summer. You can paddle boat, canoe, wind surf, row boat, fish, and of course swim the Donau.

Last week we celebrated Parker’s birthday early since most of her friends will be out of the city for her “real” birthday in July. Since the weather was warm, we went – you guessed it – swimming! We came prepared for hunger (we brought snacks). We came prepared for sun (we brought sun screen). We came prepared for the water (we brought blow up toys). We even came prepared for nudity (we took deep breaths).

SIDE NOTE: Living in Europe means living in a society with very little body image hang up. It also means living in a society where exposing parts of the body Americans would cover up with a bathing suit is common place. It’s not’s done for shock, vulgarity or lack or prudence. It’s just the way it is.

However, what we didn’t come prepared for was the experience we had involving a little boy with no bathing suit, poop, and lack of toilet paper. Enough said.

Once again, we find our American filter (how we view the world) is sifting. Last year we were terrified to glance toward the swimming areas for fear of having to explain way too much to young eyes. Now, we just go to the swimming areas … picnic among the bear butts … and find ourselves gagging only at the bodily functions. We are making progress!

On a side note, my Uncle Johhny had surgery and they could not remove the pancreas. Treatments will follow. Thank you for keeping him in your prayers.

Let the sun shine in!

"In A Little While"

2010-06-07T19:42:00.003+02:00

Back in the day, I was an Amy Grant fan. I knew every song, album cover, lyric, and even went to one of her concerts. One of my favorite songs when I was in a rather melancholy mood was “In a Little While”. For old times’ sake, I’m gonna print a portion of the lyrics:

In a little while we'll be with the Father can't you see Him smile
In a little while we'll be home forever in a while
we're just here to learn to love Him
We'll be home in just a little while

Days like these are just a test of our will. Will we walk or will we fall?
Well, I can almost see the top of the hill. And I believe it's worth it all.
Songwriters: Chapman, Gary W;Keister, John Shane;Bannister, Elliott B.;Grant, Amy

According to Amy, bad days are a test of our will to see if we choose to walk … or fall. She concludes that walking is the better choice and that … (drum roll please) “in a little while we’ll be with the Father, home forever.”

I think she’s got something there. If I were a song writer, I could pine away about my day yesterday. I received a phone call from relatives that my Uncle Johnny, whose picture you see in this blog, has pancreatic cancer and will have surgery on Wednesday and chemo treatments after that.

My Uncle Johnny is one of the kindest, simplest, purest people I know. He lives on his grand-dad’s homestead located at the base of the Great Smokey Mountains in Tennessee, remains happily married to the girl he fell in love with back in 1955, and falls asleep on a blowup mattress with his grand boys watching baseball games.

Whenever I call to talk to him, I schedule a good hour and half time slot. Not a whole lot gets discussed but the latest medical news, updates on family, and what he ordered at the local drugstore. However he as a gift of making the mundane an actors monologue.

Uncle Johnny still grows a garden at almost 75, still cuts and bails hay, still hits the ball with his grand boys in the yard, and still calls old people “sir” and “mam”.

Hearing of his bad health was not so much as a shock but rather a reality check. Even the most rock solid among us will leave planet earth to be with the Father. In my head I know this is good. In my spirit I know this is good. However, with this heart of raw emotion, this makes me sad … for me.

An end of an era will come to close when my Uncle Johnny leaves to see His Father. And it must. But again, the reality sets heavy and makes me quite reflective. The impact of the news sets even heavier with the distance of living so far away. I think I’m understanding what Christ says to be his disciple, you must count the cost. My heart is paying a big price for the cost of distance. And yet, taking heed of the promise my Father has established, a home in heaven for all those who believe in Him, I should perk up … realizing that “days like these are just a test of our will. Will I walk or will I fall.” And, then, walking forward and believing by faith that one day it will be worth it all.

I love my Uncle Johnny. He loves me well. Despite the feelings of sadness … one day we will be together … forever. And when that day arrives, I know we will both agree that it was just a little while … and worth the look on our Father’s face.

Go hug someone you love ... for me and my Uncle Johnny.

Going, Going, Gone

2010-05-31T14:57:00.002+02:00

Going ... the school year! Next Wednesday marks the end of another school year for Addison and Parker. Libby gets to attend school until July 2 … don’t tell her she has to go longer than the older girls! She is on the Austrian school schedule while the girl’s school adheres to an American schedule. Can’t believe how quickly the school year has gone.

Going … the time with my parents. They came, they stayed, and they left. We had such a great time. Unfortunately it rained every day. However, we made the most of it. I’ve got fun photos on face book of our time together, but let me sum up in words the activities: IKEA, Caritas, McDonalds, Downtown, Street performers, Tee and Apple Strudel, Kase Krainer, Breakfast in Bed, H & M, Donau River, UBahn, Prater, Getting caught in the rain … then hail … on top of a mountain, Tee, Breakfast, Durum, Rain, and lots of great conversation around the table. I have to be honest, when they said they were staying 12 days (gulp) I was worried. However, (happy gulp) the time was so rich I can’t believe how fast it went. It was great to have them see our space … and by them seeing our space … it seemed to validate our experience. A stamp of approval from those you love is just an added bonus from God.

Gone … the first 5K this body has ever done! Along with 21,000 other women in Vienna, Addison and I ran our first 5K. The gals from our team all did the race together … and I’m not too proud to admit I was the last to finish. I started out running with Addison. She left me in the dust. I then maintained a brisk walk, 4 of my friends left me in the dust. I then settled into a comfortable walk, and my friend Carrie was kind and stuck with me. If it wasn’t for her I think I would have dragged myself through the finish line. However, I did manage to muster the last bit of energy for a strong jog to finish the torture … I mean race. I figure if I start training for next year, I’ll be able to do better next year!

A Visit from Home

2010-05-23T09:54:00.002+02:00

They were supposed to come Saturday ... but they had weather issues. They were supposed to come Sunday ... but they had technical difficulties. They arrived Monday ... and thunderous applause was heard throughout the rafters from excited Elledges. Lee and JoAnn Poe (aka : Paps and Dabaw/Dad and Mom) finally set their feet on Austrian soil!

How good it's been to have parents see where we do life. It’s been good to have them see that life here has become normal, that German words are tripping off our tongues, and that Austrian culture is not so foreign after all.

We’ve done the tourist thing, however I think the thing they’ve liked most is going to the grocery store with us. Being here more than a year, I forget that seeing mustard in a tube, milk in a liter and fresh bread by the truck loads is not common. In fact one day I had planned for them to do a city tour while I went to my language course. Two hours later, when we were to meet at our designated spot, they were still in the grocery store. It hasn’t taken much to amuse these two! (Ha,ha)

We’ve got them until this Friday and hope to continue to spoil them with breakfast in bed, more trips to the grocery store, and a few sightseeing tours … if we can get them away from the mustard in the tube!

Stay tuned for more updates next week …

Two Life Events

2010-05-16T16:49:00.003+02:00

My first life event happened last night. Addison had her first high school prom. She looked beautiful. Her friends came over to get ready so we had 6 girls – poor Chris – primping and crimping while Parker and Libby watched and I tried to stay out of the way! Not really, I got to play last minute pin finder, makeup artist, and photographer.

Funny how you think you are going to react when a certain milestone comes your way. When Addison was younger I had thoughts of this day … how it would be and how I would feel. It wasn’t anything like I imagined. It was better. I love how God prepares and builds our character to be what we need when we need it.

The second life event hasn’t happened yet, however I am typing in faith that soon and very soon it will! My parents are on a plane headed toward my home in Wien (Vienna). I am totally giddy! Despite having guests last July (Veronica and Lori) December (our Marti) and this past Friday (just sent Torrance off on a plane), we’ve never had “family” come to stay. It’s a good thing their flight has been delayed 2 days because it has given me more time to tidy, retiddy, retiddy the retiddying and then undo the retiddy!

Why is it we clean like madwomen when someone comes to our home (especially for the first time)? I know I am not the only one with this sickness. The sad part is you go to all that trouble only to have it lived in and looking shabby the second day of their stay? I have cleaned areas in my house that the dust rag has never seen! I’ve been a crazy person, nagging anyone who dare misplace anything. The minute my parents walk in the door it will be over. They will be allowed to put anything anywhere they want to and I will let go of my need for everything to be picture perfect. I’m sure there are deep issues I could address here … but I’m not gonna. I’ve got to go scrub the inside of the dishwasher!

If you’ll take a gander at the pictures on the side, I thought I’d share some of our real life. Next blog I’ll be exhausted … but my house will be dirty and back to normal!

In a cleaning frenzy,
Christina

In Three Short Paragraphs

2010-05-13T16:50:00.003+02:00

That’s how long it took me to update a friend from High School about my life since last seeing her in 1984. Three short paragraphs. I don’t know how I feel about that.

One paragraph told her of my whereabouts after High School.
The next told her of my marriage.
The last paragraph about my children and where I currently live.

That’s it – three short paragraphs.

If I wanted to be philosophical about it, I’d think the last 26 years was all a bust. In 26 years I only accomplished three paragraphs of significant life experience to share with a long lost friend. How pitiful.

If I wanted to be humble, I’d say in false humility I was just too humble to share all the really significant things that the last 26 years brought my way. I’ve done this and that but why toot my own horn?

If I wanted to be a legalist I’d say I missed my opportunity to tell her about the greatest passion of my life – God. I should have taken as much or more space telling her about how good God is and has been in my life and try to persuade her that God is worthy to be obeyed.

However, I am still perplexed by the simplicity of my three short paragraphs. One day, three short paragraphs will also be the extent of what someone uses to describe my lifetime in an obituary. Not to be morbid, but it’s true. Life is short. Man withers and fades like the grass.

Then I look to Jesus. When I look to Jesus, I see the simplicity of my life. It really doesn’t matter how many paragraphs it takes neither for me to describe my life up to this point … nor for the rest of my life. It’s not me who does anything good or right or awe inspiring or amazing … it’s Jesus in me. The more I know Jesus, the less I want to see Christina Elledge shining through. I know God has given me talents and abilities that are unique to me. However, he gave me those to point others toward him. If I do anything less, it’s a bust.

Feeling humble and small because of awesome and Mighty Father,
Christina

Ode to Mother's

2010-05-08T16:21:00.006+02:00

Just because today is Mother's Day doesn't mean that is why I'm writing about my Mom. However, it is Mother's Day so what better time to write about my Mom. Only, I'm not going to write about my Mom ... but rather the MomS God has put in my life.

The first picture you see is Shirley Chisum, the Mother of my Chris. She is Chris' Mom because she gave birth to him, but she is my Mom because I got to be the one to marry the boy to whom she gave birth. Actually, that is not true. She has chosen to love me as her own daughter because I married her son, but she didn't have to ... but how grateful I am that she did! I'd like to think I am not her "daughter-in-law" but rather her "daughter-in-love". Her house feels like home to me. Her encouragement makes me feel like I can carry on. Her belief in me makes me more confident to the things God has called me to do. Her voice on the phone (via skype) settles my heart. Her written words that tell me she loves me makes me feel warm. To Shirley, I love you. I'm so thankful God placed us in each other's hearts.

The second picture you see are my birth Mom, and my Mom by marriage. Now don't be confused. I am not adopted ... in the typical sense of the word ... but kinda. Let me explain.

My Mom died almost 15 years ago. I'm quite confident there is not a day that doesn't go by that her influence on me is not felt. My Mom could stretch a dollar, work wonders on a tuna casserole, paint, sew, and all other things practical Mom's do for their children. My Mom was a creative genius and I'd like to think I got that gene from her. She was a beautiful woman and I always cringed when someone made a comment that I looked more like her sister than her daughter. She gave me the gift of being thrifty, having a clean house, making the most of what God gives you, and selfishly giving to others. Let it be known my Mom was not perfect - however in God's wisdom, she was perfect for me. I am thankful for the gifts she gave me in her lifetime ... and the hope she pointed me to ... the hope of salvation and life in Christ Jesus.

Now, my adopted Mom is JoAnn ... the woman my Dad married after my Mom's death. I think she adopted me before I adopted her. She loved me well before I could formulate the words "Mom" in which to refer to her. She always introduced me to others as her daughter. Yet I somehow felt I was betraying my own Mom by calling JoAnn Mom. However, in God's perfect truth, He showed me that the heart is quite capable of loving. He, from His abundance, pours that love into our hearts and we are more than able to love multiples of people deeper through Him than anything we could muster on our own. Now, JoAnn is Mom. It's a title God gave me to call her ... a name that makes me feel loved, cared for, protected, special, and happy. It also gives "me the right to feel thrilled when I hear her say "Let's go shopping! JoAnn, I love you. I'm so glad you adopted me!

Shirley Chisum, Shirley Poe, and JoAnn Sanders Poe - to you I am grateful for loving me. Every MOM needs a base from which to operate successfully. You three are that base for me. Thank you.

Get back, Jack! We've got a Juicer!

2010-04-18T16:34:00.004+02:00

Who's Jack? Jack Lalanne.
What's a Juicer? Chris' long-time dream machine!

For years, YEARS, my Chris has yearned, longed, desired, hinted, begged, and shamelessly wanted a Jack LaLanne juicer. Once we got a hand-me-down juicer from our friends Charlie and Michelle, but it wasn't a Jack Lalanne. It spewed pulp and fruit flesh all over the kitchen back splash, but no juice flowed from it's chrome spout into our awaiting cup. I knew the day would come. I díd not object to the purchase in principle, I just took offense to the price.

Our friend, Jackie, who is the true Queen of all things Ebay, flippantly said, "You should try seeing if there is one on Ebay?" Little did she know what she set in motion. She, right before our very eyes, typed in a search for a J.L.J. (Jack Lalanne Juicer), found one at a rock bottom price from a reputable seller, bid on our behalf, then notified us less than 24 hours later that we had won! The J.L.J. was ours!

Rapture could not have expressed Chris' reaction better. I'm sure that when he committed his life to Christ it was the biggest day of his life. Then, when I said, "Yes I will marry you and your mullet." was the second finest day in his history. However, the day the J.L.J. arrived - hands down will be the 3rd largest day of his life ... sorry girls, your Dad loves you, but J.L.J. has been a dream longer than you have been alive.

In support of his obsession, I have purchased truck loads of carrots, apples, oranges, and kiwi. I've got to admit, the J.L.J. has captured my affections, too! Where on the planet can you get your 5 daily servings of fruit and veggies in the flip of a switch?

Pictures will follow. Right now, I'm letting the newness of all this settle down. The kitchen is tingling with juicy energy and the giddy clinks of Chris' glass capturing his liquid nutrition is a bit too much for the human eye.

Good health - may you too have a J.L.J. in your future!

Behind the Iron Curtain

2010-04-12T18:29:00.002+02:00

Yep. We went behind what was once the iron curtain. Our dear friends graciously hosted our family for a weekend of great fun. They were hospitable guests and informed tour guides to their city of Budapest. Despite authentic Hungarian goulash and a boat ride down the Danube River, the part of the weekend that impacted us the most were the stories and scenes from the past.

Chris and I have stories of our childhood. Believe me, they are not pretty. I made macrame plant hangers for my Mom, had one of the first home perms, and cooked with an easy bake oven that really looked like an oven, not a microwave like the new ones. Chris wore black framed glasses (and when they broke taped them together with masking tape), wore denim cut off shorts in the summer with his earth shoes, and went to his junior prom with a baby blue tux. Scary.

However, our friend's stories were much different. Each set of grandparents experienced the brutality of the communist party. Evidence of the Second World War can still be seen in local architecture. And the depressed economy can be seen in the crumbling buildings that lie in disrepair.

I walk away from our weekend with a respect for those who live in the shadows of war, a deeper desire to know more of my roots and an appreciation for the affluence of the country I was born in and now live.

I also walk away with a found affection for ... Hungarian gulash!

Letters from Home

2010-04-07T12:38:00.002+02:00

This week we got a letter from home. Aunt Peggy is actually Chris' Aunt, but because she loves me well I consider her my Aunt as well! Aunt Peggy makes chocolate gravy and biscuits, dresses like a hip 35 year old (even though she is ... well, some things are better left a secret!), and can make the most mundane story a masterpiece in literature. By definition, she is a true southern woman.

Upon receiving her letter, my thoughts hadn't turned toward home ... at least not to her home specifically. However, the minute I read her words, my mind drifted from my Austrian, urban setting to the dusty roads of her small town in Oklahoma. I found myself longing to sit at her kitchen table, watch her wrangle up something to eat and listen to her retell the latest news about a member of her community.

What I find particularly interesting about my longing is this fact: I did the same thing when I was in Oklahoma! My mind would drift toward Austria many times, waiting to make this my new home. And, now that I'm here, I look back at what was so ordinary and wish it into existence! How fickle my heart can be!

Last week, we had the opportunity to attend a meeting with several comrades from our company. One morning we had a chance to just hibernate somewhere, be still, and hear from God. I ran across this little jewel in Psalm 90:1 "Lord, through all the generations you have been our home." Not especially a power punch, but the Lord very gently whispered this truth to my heart ... Where I am is your home. Makes life pretty simple. Wherever God puts me, leads me, asks me to go ... that is my home.

As Addison looks toward the next three years and is already starting to dream about universities to attend, I remain in denial. There - I said it. I'm not ready to think about my little girl leaving home, doing life separate from me, and getting emails from her updating me on her life. However, if I put any kind of action to my faith in a real God, I have to also believe the power of His words: Where He is ... is also Addison's home. Wherever God puts her, leads her, asks her to go ... even if away from home, that is her home.

That's when I sat down and cried, blew my nose, and realized that life is always a look forward and a look behind. And if I could learn the power of being still in the presence of my God and wait patiently for him ... I would realize that in the looking forward and the looking behind, He is and was there.

I hope Aunt Peggy will forgive me as I say I am content with not having chocolate gravy and biscuts ... because that is not where God has put me. I am content, to roam the streets of my Wien, drinking wonderful coffee and surfing the net for future universities with Addison. I'm gonna be still - even if it kills me - and rest in simple truth: Where He is - it's home!

Happy Anniversary Baby, Gotcha on My Mi ... hind

2010-03-26T22:50:00.002+01:00

If I were to ask Chris, he would know who sang this 70's one hit wonder in which this week's blog title is named ... however, let's just keep inquiring minds wondering!

You see, we have approached our one year anniversary of living in our new homeland! My goodness ... there is no way I could put into words what this experience has been for our family. It's been the hardest, most challenging, yet most adventurous and life-stretching event of our family history.

We've laughed over Chris' driving, cried over my lack of my oven knowledge, stressed over new schools for Libby, rejoiced over new friends for Parker, and dreamed about Addison's future. We've watched each other embrace a new language, new culture, new foods, and new way of getting from point A to point B on public transportation. We've called family back "home" and cried because we missed them so much. We've met new friends in our new home and got all tingly inside because we made a connection. We've embraced Austrian peanut butter. We've grieved Oklahoma Boomerang hamburgers. We've been in awe of our new surroundings.

I'm confident that if you interviewed every Elledge, and asked them if they had to do it all over, would they still have moved to Austria, the answer would be a resounding, "Yes!"

We are better, bolder, more grateful and deeper connected with each other for having walked this journey! We've experienced God in new ways that having never left the comfort of our Oklahoma roots we would have missed!

Here's to a new year in our "home"!

A little tale ...

2010-03-21T16:47:00.003+01:00

The week came, and went, and all is well. Sunday evening finds me pooped from a really great yet long weekend. Chris is on a train bound for Wien after spending the weekend with our good friend, Hans-Georg. Spring is here ... and I don't think I could be any happier! It's been a long winter, folks!

Stay tuned for more next week ...

Random

2010-03-13T10:53:00.006+01:00

This week you are getting all the "random" events that have taken place in our lives since the last post. And, if we are honest, most of life seems pretty random, doesn't it!

Parker got glasses! I'll tell you more about the story later, but isn't she a cutie! Now, before you call out the Fashion Police, let me explain. She is dressed up like the character Junie B. Jones for "Book Day" at school. What a doll!

We are probably the biggest fans of the pop culture movie, "The Sound of Music" ever known to man. However, putting our fanhood aside, we haven't (gulp) watched our favorite Austrain centered movie while living in Austria! I'm sure this could be considered grounds for removal from the official fan club. Anyway, we even watched in German! In fact, we wanted to give you a little taste of what Maria would say if she really wasn't Maria and was in fact Julie Andrews introducing the movie (are you following me?). If you can read the subtitles on the bottom of Julie it says: "Hallo. Ich bin Julie Andrews." Translated: "Hello. I am Julie Andrews." What fun!

We've maintained our ritual "Friday Nights in the Bigtown" while living in Vienna (Wien) but this was a highlight! Nachos, on the floor in the living room and The Sound of Music! Libby doesn't look to thrilled ... we think she is experiencing CFS ... Constant Female Syndrome! That's a whole other blog entry ... or two ... or three!!

Yep. It's them - nachos. Now, what you don't see is the purple refried beans in the pot next to the nachos. Refried Beans don't exsist so we make our own by simply mashing the tar (a good Oklahoma phrase) out of Kidney beans. The end result is a purplish hue ... and, since I'm playing the sympathy card, we don't have easy access to Cheddar cheese either. We can get it is some stores, but it's really expensive. So, I mainly use Mozerrella and some unknown combitnation called "Pizza" cheese. There is some yellowish cheese in there but we don't think it's chedder.

Parker posing with the actual CD of Sound of Music.

Now, talk about a small world. We have a good friend in Oklahoma, Greg. His church has had a partnership with a church in an island country, Malta, for many years. When Chris and I moved back to the Oklahoma City metro area in 1991, we attended a service at our friend Gregs' church where this couple spoke for the first time. Greg gave them our contact information a few weeks ago because they were going to be in Vienna for a conference. They ended up having diner in our home, and judging from Libby's fierce grip on Sylivia, ended up being new friends!

Now, back to Parker's glasses. Trying to blend more and more of our lives into an Austrian context can sometimes be scary - especially when it comes to having stuff done like eye exams when we aren't quite "fluent" in the language. So, Chris finds a local eye doc in our neighborhood. I go in to make an appointment, speaking German, and doing a fairly good 1st grade level job at it. The doc tells me I can speak English to him (he speaks fluent English) and I tell him I want to make an appointment for my 10 year old daughter. I take Parker for the exam, we pick out glasses, and in walks our neighbor. She tells the doc "Hallo. Sie ist meiner Nachbarin." (Hello, she is my neighbor.) Then she turns to me and says, "This is my brother!" I've been wanting to have a deeper connection with this neighbor and leave it to God to use a "random" life event to give me one. Then, when I go to pay for the eye visit, he tells me not to worry about the office visit, it's free! All I had to do was pay for the glasses!

Job says this at the end of his crisis (you can read all about it in Job) "I had only heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes." Job 42:5 This week with Parker's eyeglasses, the Lord showed me this principle in my own life. I, like Job, do a good job of hearing God when life is going fine. However, when crisis comes, my vision gets blurred by trying to figure out life in my limited vision. More and more I want to see God with my own eyes. I want to truly see Him in every situation in my life - in good, in crisis. God is God and I am not. He sees the whole and I see only in part. Parker's glasses are helping her read better and now she can truly see what the teacher is writing on the chalkboard. I want spiritual eyeglasses ... I want to see God - truly see!

Here's to better than 20/20 Vision - Christina

Celebrate!

2010-03-02T16:34:00.007+01:00

This past December 28 marked 18 years of wedded bliss! Because Chris was in the U.S. for his father's funeral and I was here in Austria, we did not get to celebrate our anniversary. However, yesterday, we celebrated in style! We made the 45 minute road trip to Hungary for some serious pampering.

But, before I get into all that ... here's a little picture of Chris at a local travel stop sipping coffee and nibling on a semmel (a typical bread here in Austria). This photo is actually for Chris' Mom. When we lived in Norman, she and her husband, Jerry, would make the 2 hour trip from their home in Altus to our home. They would invariably stop once, if not twice, for coffee along the way. We just thought it was so funny. Well, we are turning into them! Yikes! We barely got out of the city when we stopped at this little roadside stop for coffee! Oh well, if getting older means you enjoy life enough to have a cup of coffee with the ones you love, count me in!

Now, I don't know if I've mentioned it in previous blog posts, but Austrians are a very dog friendly society! Dogs can be found on public transportation, in markets and in resturants. This particular travel stop had a place for Hunde (dogs) to get a little nourishment as well: a free food and water buffet just for doggies!

Hungary is just 45 minutes away from Wien (Vienna). There is a border town, Sopron, that many Austrians migrate to because of cheap haircuts, cheap wellness treatments, and cheap dental work. A full-body massage in Wien was around 67 Euro. However, for 62 Euro, I got a full-body massage, an eyebrow wax and lip wax (no comment please!) and Chris got a 100 minute hot stone massage! Kaching!

This doesn't look like the young couple that wed over 18 years ago. The girl had big mushroom hair, lots of lipstick, and huge glamorous earings. The boy had big glasses, a mullet (ha,ha,ha,ha ... with a perm in the back!) and was a stick! However, this picture is sweeter and dearer to me than that December day when they walked out of a church for the first time as Mr. and Mrs.! Thank God for a friend who happens to be your spouse! Life isn't always easy or fair or fun ... but it sure is wonderful being able to share it my Chris!

"The Road to a Friends House ...

2010-02-21T13:46:00.006+01:00

... is never long", says American poet Robert Frost! And he's right! Since we do most of our traveling by public transportation, we thought we'd show you some snapshots of how we get out and about to friends' houses' here in Wien (Vienna)! Enjoy! Above, Chris is pointing out that all modes of transportation have seats for pregnant women, mother's with children, physically challenged and the elderly.

Who says waiting for the Strassenbahn (streetcar) can't be fun!

Once again, Chris is pointing out the special seating. Funny how he is always close to these seats ...

This is a view to take you "down under" to catch an U-Bahn (the subway).

When one is on public, you make the most of your time.

Parker and I enjoy a photo shoot while waiting for the U-Bahn.

If you want to stay in shape and not use the escalator to desend to the depths of the underground, you can use the stairs.

Waiting for a Strassenbahn. You can't see if very clearly but there is an illuminated sign that tells you how long the wait is for your Strassenbahn.

This is a typical scene at the Strassenbahn stop.

And ... on the rare occation we drive, this is how tight our parking place is in our underground parking garage! We've become good at getting in and out of tight places!