First Christmas in Albania

Our First Christmas in Albania has come and gone. 

We could not be more thankful for the day we had together! 

When we got married, we knew we were coming to Albania without shipping anything so we worked hard not to accumulate too much stuff. We didn't collect Christmas ornaments or decorations because we knew we wouldn't be able to bring them with us. 

Because of that, this was really our first Christmas together where it felt "Christmassy." Meaning, we got a tree and decorated it and wrapped presents and made yummy food all day. It was fun to be able to start our own family traditions! 

And it was so special with Shiloh! Christmas is a whole different experience with kids! Even though Shiloh is only 1 it was such a blast to watch her figure out how to tear the paper and then watch her excitement when she saw what was inside. 

It was a very special time as a family and it caused me to reflect on the goodness of the Lord to us this past year. 

I am thankful that we have "settled." We have a home. 

We have furniture that we are going to keep. 

We have ornaments that I will pack away for next year.

 We have pots and pans and dishes to cook Christmas dinner. 

We have friends that stopped by all day with sweet, thoughtful presents for Shiloh Belle. 

We have a beautiful, full life here. In many ways, I don't know how it happened. Its as if I blinked after I graduated college and all of a sudden I have a husband, a home in Albania and two babies. 

I feel very undeserving of all these things. 

It is very humbling. 

Especially because we are surrounded by those who have so much less that we do, have been given so much less opportunity, and have struggled, in many ways,  for their whole life. 

It makes the message of Christmas deeper and sweeter to me in a way that I wouldn't have imagined. 

Whenever we drive out of Pogradec we see at least half a dozen shepherds and their sheep. They stand out in the freezing cold all day long taking care of them. It looks miserable, to be honest and I always feel bad for them. 

Yesterday when we read Luke 2 I was thinking about those shepherds. It truly is touching that shepherds were the first to see the incarnate Son of God. And it's such a beautiful picture of His character. 

It gives me an even greater love for these people and a greater desire that they know the truth of who Jesus is. 

I am very thankful and feel overwhelmed and blessed by our first Christmas here. 

And for those who have been asking, the Prime Rib actually turned out amazing! I'm not really sure how, it was just a fluke because I just took it out when I felt it should be done. Either that or Cory was praying that it would be good so I would be a happy wife on Christmas. 

But I have solved the mystery of the size of the Prime Rib...

It is veal. Or Baby cow. Sorry I just have to say it. 

I knew this. I knew I was always buying "baby cow," because that is all they butcher. 

No wonder the Prime Rib was a quarter of the size as in the pictures. 

Well, essentially we are eating Grass Fed Veal...so there is a plus of living in a subsistence farming country. 

Actually, if you want to know what Albania is like, watch the first scene of Fiddler on the Roof. It's pretty much identical apart from the fact that we have more buildings and cars. We recently watched it and couldn't believe how similar it was. 

Here are some pics of our day...

Also, just a quick word on our Women's Christmas Party. 

This is a recap. 

Everyone came dressed in their best. 

We did a White Elephant gift exchange where I got some neon pick lipstick and some rusted silver hoop earrings. There was also a perfume that I used to love and has been discontinued for 5 years. It magically appeared at the party. It took everything in me not to steal it. All the way up until the moment of my turn, I was in inner turmoil on what to do. 

After that, everyone ate about 6 slices about pizza. I am not exaggerating. We are talking 30, 40, and 50 year old women. It was all gone. Not a piece left. 

I had heard we were going to dance but I wasn't thinking it was going to happen after how much pizza everyone ate. 

THEN, the music started. They ALL got up and started dancing. And a more appropriate way to describe it would be to say we hopped in a circle really fast. I got a cramp after about 2 minutes. 

Many of these ladies are moms of students. Some of them come to the Women's Bible study and the rest have said they want to begin to. It was a wonderful time and I'm so thankful for the relationships being built. 

This is my friend Bruna's mom. She knit Shiloh an entire outfit for her birthday! Both of her kids have gotten saved at summer camps and she has since begun to attend the Women's bible study. 

Again, we are so thankful for this Christmas season here and feel extremely blessed by all of our friendships here and the love and support of so many in America. 

And one last pic. Flash Back to last Christmas. How much has changed in a year! 

Bears, Cows and Chickens

*I have this grand idea of making a prime rib roast for Christmas dinner. 

The problem is that I cannot go to the grocery store, look in the meat section and find the plastic wrapped chunk that says "Prime Rib Roast." Even if I could do that, I would probably still butcher it. Haha. 

There are like 400 different ways to do it on Pinterest. The instructions are kind of complex for my cooking abilities. I'm no Martha. If anyone has any Prime Rib Roast cooking advice, send it my way. 

So, I have been doing some research. FYI the Prime Rib Roast is also known as the Standing Rib Roast which is cut from the cows ribs, specifically ribs 9-12. This is in the loin section, not the chuck section of the animal. 

I went to the butcher's today with this picture on my phone. I'm going to attempt this before Christmas so that I'm not crying on Christmas day when I ruin it. 

He grabbed my phone with his bloody fingers. Then lopped off a chunk of beef that looked nothing like the Prime Rib pictures. So I showed him a google image. He scrolled through the pictures with the same fingers. 

He lopped off another chunk and I'm pretty sure it's the right piece, just with the bones in? Well I'm gonna try it and see what happens. It's a lot smaller than the chunk in the pictures which makes me wonder if the cows here are smaller? They look pretty big to me so I don't know. 

Some days, I walk down the street and it actually feels normal to me. But today I saw a little old lady hobbling down the road holding a dead chicken by the wings. I thought you carried dead chickens by the neck but I guess if you slit the neck it makes more sense to carry it by the wings. It looked miserable...but that's probably because it was dead...

Then we were driving down the road in another town and we saw a man walking a bear on a leash. Yes a bear. He has a pet brown bear. I don't know what else to say about that. 

So between the bloody cow, the dead chicken and the bear on a leash, I would say today felt a little less normal than usual. 

**Our Albanian lessons are coming along. That's a relative statement. It depends on what or who we are comparing ourselves to. 

Today I told the butcher, in Albanian, that my husband was singing in Albanian for the drama. He said he was Muslim and couldn't come. I explained to him that it was at the theatre and not at the church. He said he would come. The smallest conversations are encouraging...both spiritually and in regards to Albanian. 

Some new words we have learned...

The word for "gossip" is literally translated "I said, I say." A good way to describe gossip is it not? 

The word for "pregnant" is literally translated "busybody," which has a separate connotation in English but when you think about it is actually very apt. I definitely feel like my body is busy right now. 

If you want to say "I'm sorry" you literally say "Bad comes to me." I don't totally get this but it's the idea of you feeling bad, or relating to their pain ect. 

We are still spending plenty of time laughing at ourselves and feeling completely lost. 

The other day Cory said "I like to eat my parents." 

He meant vegetables.

We have to constantly remind ourselves that learning this language is a NECESSITY. Our ministry is empty without it. We will never be able to minister on the level we hope to until we learn this language. The desire to learn this constantly consumes us. Please continue to pray for us as we study, listen and learn. 

***This month has been full of getting ready for our Christmas play next week. This last weekend we went away to a conference center with the kids to do a full dress rehearsal. Lot's of hair curling and laughing. 

It was a blast and it's amazing to see how they have bonded in the last months. Our youth group has gone from feeling like a bunch of random kids, to a group of friends. 

The play is "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens and the script has been modified to include the gospel story. The kids have been working so hard and are so excited. We are looking forward to meeting the parents that we haven't met and following up with the response. 

Cory is working hard to learn 3 songs in Albanian and is doing an amazing job. There are definitely some tongue twisters. The letter "y" makes a French "oo" sound which isn't difficult to say on its own but when you combine it with certain consonants and vowels, it becomes pretty tricky. 

We pray that this will be an incredible outreach to the community and an awesome experience for the students.

****Yesterday in my girls bible study we read the story of Jesus birth and talked about what it means that he is called Immanuel. We read the prophecy in Isaiah. I explained what a prophecy and there was one girl who was very amazed that the birth of Christ had been foretold. She knew the story of Christmas but it's been so neat to show them how scripture is redemptive story that shows the plan of God! 

*****Shiloh is a blast right now. We are constantly laughing at her. She walks like a champ and I can't believe she follows me around the kitchen! She LOVES to look at books. In fact, that's mostly what she does when she's awake. She oohs and aaahs at the pictures that have animals in them. We are in love with her and thank the Lord for the gift she is. 

*****This week marks 22 weeks with Taliah! At our last doctor appoint we were told that both her and I are healthy. We feel so blessed and can't wait for Shiloh to be a big sister! 

******We feel so encouraged this Christmas season by so many of you! Thank you for your kind emails, packages and prayers! We are so thankful to be here and every day are amazed at what the Lord is doing in our owns hearts and in the hearts of those around us. 

We had anticipated this Christmas season being the most difficult for us, but that hasn't been the case at all. That must be attributed to the prayers of so many of you and the joy of working hard with these students. 

Thank you for your continued prayers and support as we serve in this place. 

The Hard Part

"This is the hard part." 

We often talk about what is actually "hard" about living here in Albania. 

Although I tell you about buying bloody meat and the heating system exploding and constantly being confused at what is going on around me, those things are not "hard" as much as they are humorous.

They are just life. The life that we have chosen and ultimately the life that God has called us to. 

If we were in America there would be thousands of little things like that as well. They might look different but there are struggles no matter where you live and no matter what your life mission is. 

They are just life. 

We laugh about the little things. The growing pains of learning and living in a new culture. 

The frustration of acclimating to a new culture is far outweighed by the joy of the ministry here. 

We can't imagine being anywhere else and we feel so priviledged. 

What IS hard... 

Is when everyone is together. 

Thanksgiving when all the girls (mom, aunt, grandma, sisters and cousins) are all together cooking and I'm not there to cook with them. We always tell the same stories and make fun of each other every time we are together. I think we laugh harder every year and this year I so badly missed laughing with them. 

It's when one of my best friends is getting married and I'm not there to stand beside her as she says her vows, or to help her prepare, or to take care of the last minute details. 

It's when Cory's family goes to Disneyland for his mom's 60th Birthday and we aren't there to celebrate and tell her how special she is to us. 

It's not the day to day life that I miss as much because in all reality I wouldn't see them every day anyways.

It's the times when every one is together for celebration. It almost feels wrong that we aren't there. 

That is THE hard part. 

As in the only thing that is hard, really. 

Not going to Trader Joe's once a week, is nothing compared to this. 

And it's easy to forget when everyone is going about their busy, daily life. But when we see everyone together we say, "Oh ya, that is the hard part." 

And even still, 

The knowledge that we are in the center of God's will brings peace that passes understanding. 

The reality of watching Christ change lives and being a part of His work brings incredible joy. 


We are watching Christ transform people even as we approach this Christmas season. 

THIS girl told me the other day when we were getting coffee, that she is different, people are telling her she is different, and that it's because the Holy Spirit is working in her. 

Her life circumstances haven't changed. 

She still has a very difficult home life.

 But she has gone from a girl who barely smiled and seemed scared of her own shadow, to one that has joy and confidence and translates for me in the girls Bible study. 

The other day a guy who Cory has been discipling and who has been working through his faith very seriously said "the world is hostile to us," speaking of believers. Cory asked him if he'd been listening to MacArthur and this boy said he's been listening to two MacArthur sermons a day! He is in high school! He is beginning to realize what it means to fully give your life to Christ and it is exploding his worldview. 

And when I can't cook with my sisters, or be in my friends wedding, or epically celebrate Cory's mom's birthday, I think of these kids and these words that come out of their mouths. 

Because I wouldn't want to miss those for anything. 

I'm so thankful the Lord has blessed us with family and friends that love and support us. That encourage us and challenge us. That don't make us feel guilty for leaving them or bad about taking our babies away from them. They are constantly giving to us, praying for us and loving our babies from afar. 

So, while we miss those we love deeply, we know that that is the hard part. The part that we have to give to the Lord and trust him with. 

Everything else is pure joy. 

Also, this weekend marks 6 months in Albania for the Cramer's! Cory made a little video for our update and if you didn't get to see it HERE it is. Just to thank those who love, pray for and support us, here is a little picture of our life! Thankful for you all! 

To Be Known...

In American culture, we talk a lot about wanting to "be known." We want people to know us, who we are, and what we are about. 

Now, if you are having a hard time being known...please come move here. 

Not only will you be able to help us with a work and a harvest much too great for 2 people, but you will also be known. 

For instance...

I was walking in the street the other day (not very close to our house) and I saw a bunch of really cool wooden crates that had apples in them. I have been looking for a basket to put our Albanian books in and haven't been able to find one. 

I was pointing them out to Cory when a man said "Can I help you?" 

I was shocked. Not only that he spoke English but that he asked me if he could help me. I don't remember the last time I heard that. Normally its more like "what you want?" if its English at all. 

Ummm...yes. I proceeded to ask him about the crates. 

They were his he said. He made them he said. He didn't sell them. 

I asked if he could make one for me. 

In my peripheral I saw a lot of people looking and pointing at me saying "American, American." 

"Sure, I will make one for you and bring it to you tomorrow. I know where you live." He said. 

"Oh great ok! Thank you! Yes tomorrow is perfect." 

I was so excited about getting the crate that it took me a minute to realize he knew where I lived. I had never seen this man before and I wasn't in the vicinity of our house. 

"You know where I live?" I finally asked. 

He pointed in the direction of our house. "Yes, yes I know. I will drop it off at Rudi's. You know Rudi." 

Yes I know Rudi. He owns the shop across the street from our house. 

"Well great! Thank you!" 

"Have a nice day." He said. I haven't heard that in a long time either. 

That's not the first time a complete stranger has told me they know where we live. 

In reality, most people that live in the city center know where "the American's" live. 

Pogradec is not massive but the city and outlying villages have about 40,000 people. 

I could look at this one of two ways. 

The first way is how I looked at it when Cory was gone for the night and I was alone. Fear. I slept with a knife by my bed. Not that that would help me whatsoever, it was more the thought of it. That's embarrassing. Everyone knows where I live. I am an American in a country of nominal Muslims. If anyone wanted to find me, they could. Very easily. 

The second is how I should look at it. Opportunity. Everyone knows where we live. If they need help, they know where we live. If students hear about our bible studies and want to come, they know where we live. If I want a wooden crate for $4 from the man on the side of the road, he knows where we live. 

So, if you're looking to be known...

www.josiahventure.com

Also, we will be sending out an update on Thanksgiving which includes a video Cory has made that shows a little bit of our life here in Albania! 

If you would like to receive our email updates, sign up HERE.  


Have a wonderful Thanksgiving with your friends and family! We are so thankful for all of you! 

And here is Shiloh Belle with some pants on her head...

A Baby Girl and a Girl Fight

Some Bible Study girls :)

My girls bible study is this beautiful mess of conversation and confusion.

Last week, I was waiting for all the girls to come and all but two of them were late. I couldn't figure out what was going on and then I looked out my balcony window and saw a crowd of messy hair buns and pony tails in the street. Most of them were my girls and the rest were ones I hadn't seen before. 

I asked the two who had already arrived what was going on.

Apparently, someone had created a Facebook page entitled "The *Nice Girls* of Pogradec." 

Except it didn't actually say "Nice Girls." It said a bad word. Like the opposite of "Nice Girls." 

Everyone tracking? 

And on the Facebook page were the names and pictures of a bunch of the girls in my Bible study. 

So, that day, right in the street, my girls were waiting to meet with the girl who *they thought* had done it. The girl hadn't actually admitted it but "her best friend had." I was thinking she wouldn't show up but then I heard SCREAMING.

I looked out the window again and the huddle of heads was growing. 

Instinctively (because I obviously wasn't thinking through what I was doing) I put on my coat and boots and walked down the street. 

Straight into the middle of screeching Albanian. 

I had no idea what was being said but as I walked up I saw one girl from my bible study about to smack the Facebook Page Maker Girl. 

I told you I wasn't thinking because I just pushed my way into the middle and started speaking English and they all stared at me and silenced themselves (for 98% of the Albanians we know, we are the only Americans they have ever met)...

"Hi, I'm Kristine, what's your name....do you speak English?"  I heard nervous laughter and the girl told me her name which had way to many constants and syllables for me to remember what it was. 

She didn't speak English. Apart from knowing the answer to "what is your name?" 

So, I told one of my girls to translate for me and I said..."If you say you didn't do this, I believe you (my girls gasped and she teared up), but if you did do this, please take the Facebook page down. If you did not, I'm sorry we bothered you and we are going to go now." 

I turned around with my arms spread out and literally swept my girls up the hill towards my house. I ended up with some extra girls at bible study that I had never seen before. 

We are going through the book of John and that day I had prepared for us to read and study Jesus' first miracle and the cleansing of the Temple. 

I had a feeling that wouldn't really resonate with them on that particular day so I decided to have them open to Matthew and read the passage in Chapter 5 about loving your enemies. 

They were all very upset about what had happened and one girl told me she'd been crying all night. They felt that their reputation had been tarnished. 

They hadn't heard anything about loving your enemies before and it was very difficult for them to grasp. They even asked to read through it a second time. 

As it ended I shared with them about Christ's love for us. How He forgave us when we are so undeserving and how we are incapable of acting like Christ without His help. 

I don't know how much they understood or took to heart. It is crazy to say these things to girls with absolutely no spiritual context. 

For me to say it's not ok to rip this girls hair out by the roots and scratch her eyes out with your long fake nails, was an absolutely revolutionary concept to them. 

The page has since been taken down, everyone seemed to forget about it by the next week, and we continued with our bible study. 

I love being a part of these girls lives. I love watching their confused faces as we read about loving your enemies. I love watching light bulbs go on in their brains. I love thinking about the fact that many of them first heard about Jesus this summer at camp. 

It's hilarious and weird and awesome. Please continue to pray for these girls as we talk about who Jesus is and what He has done for them.

At coffee with some Bible Study girls

In other news...

I don't know where the last 2 1/2 weeks went. 

A combination of language learning, meal cooking, bible studying, Shiloh caring and doctor visiting. 

*We found out on Tuesday that Baby Girl #2 is on the way! Her name will be Taliah Pauline. Taliah means "Dew of God" and Pauline was my Grandma's middle name. We cannot wait to meet her in April! Shiloh is excited too. 

**That same day Shiloh took her first steps and has since been toddling further and further. She gets a big, proud smile on her face right before she crashes on the carpet. We LOVE watching her grow and after she goes to sleep at night we just sit in bed and watch videos of her. 

***After being here almost 6 months, I feel like I am beginning to grasp how to meal plan and cook. The only disaster I had last week was when I tried to make tortillas. Twice in one night. The first time with gluten free flour and they turned out like flubber. Then, I tried with regular flour and it was like a ceramic paste that got stuck in my wedding ring for days. We just ate a pile of beans and meat without tortillas. Better for us anyways right? Actually, that was not the only disaster. I also somehow destroyed some Jam Thumbprint cookies I was making for the boys bible study and zested a chunk of my thumb off trying to make Lemon Cupcakes last minute. That would have happened to me in America too...so I guess it doesn't count. 

****Language learning continues every day and right now we are trying to grasp why each noun has about 15 different endings, why each verb has about 40 different endings and how to translate the verb "to like." It doesn't actually mean "to like." It's more like "is pleasing for me," so it changes the structure of the sentence and you can't translate it literally. Last week our tutor told me she understands that it's hard for me because your brain doesn't work when you are pregnant...I wasn't sure how to take that. 

Here are some noun endings...

We are so thankful for each passing day here. All that we are learning and experiencing blows us away. 

It was almost exactly 3 years ago that we sat in chapel at Master's and heard about Josiah Venture and Albania for the first time. We were dating and open to whatever the Lord had for our lives. 

The ride we have been on the last 3 years is one what that we wouldn't trade for anything and we are overwhelmed by the Lord's guidance in this process. Thank you thank you for being a part of it! 

And here's Shiloh Belle on a swing in Tirana...

Starting Over

In many ways, we feel like we are starting over...at life. At everything in life. And this is not entirely true, but in many senses it is. 

Our vocabulary is that of a 2 year old. We are laughed at when we speak, like a two year old. We can't pronounce letters, like a two year old. We can't communicate what we want to say, like a two year old. 

I thought the police man that pulled me over was telling me he lived in Pogradec. 

I smiled really big and said "Oh great!" nodding my head like I understand Albanian. I later found out he told me if I was in Pogradec I would have gotten a ticket...He was probably very confused by my response. 

Our cultural understanding is that of maybe a 5 year old. There are some things you universally do and don't do...or maybe that's not true either. It is a compliment for me to hear I am fat. 

Our senses are constantly being bombarded like that of an infant. 

Every smell is new and overwhelming...kind of like your first time at Disneyland...but the opposite kinds of smells. 

Every sight is shocking, like a pile of skinned dead cows in the back of a truck being delivered to the butcher...your butcher. 

Every taste is new and sometimes unwelcome to your tastebuds...like pickles. 

Every sound is unfamiliar and you're constantly wondering what's going on outside. "What's that???" Oh, it's a goat. 

Sometimes, while Shiloh is playing, she'll just sit up on her knees, clench her fists, contort her face, and give an intense, long grunt. I feel like that's what my brain is doing 24/7. 

My brain is going back to infancy at a time when it wasn't programmed for it. 

It's like a volcano always on the verge of eruption. 

My greatest victory this week was when I was walking in the street and I knew what two ladies were saying...

One said to the other, "Do you want a banana?" 

Yes, that's all. 

I was thrilled.

And in that moment I realized all the things I am telling you right now. 

The reality of starting over. 

And this bleeds into the spiritual aspect of life here as well. 

I have a girls bible study every week and we are going through John. This week we took a break to have more of a hang out time. We painted nails and did make up and I curled hair for an hour and a half. 

The room was so loud. Girls laughing and talking and shoving for a spot in the mirror. 

Normally, I'm the one being told to quiet down, or calm down, or the one being laughed at because I'm constantly embarrassing myself. 

But yesterday, I was almost silent. 

Not because I wasn't thrilled to have all those girls in my house, or because I wasn't having a blast. 

But because I couldn't understand much. And I could say even less than that. And it was too loud to try to have a one on one conversation and pick up some words. 

At the end I talked for a little bit about beauty (yes with someone translating). We read 1 Peter 3 and I shared with them that was is most important to Jesus is that we have beautiful hearts. Souls. The part that will never die. 

And I realized how little I actually know them. I know many of them were saved this summer. I know they just heard for the first time last week that the Holy Spirit lives in the lives of believers. 

But I don't know their deepest struggles. I don't know what gives them pain. I don't know what they are proud of. I don't know what they are afraid of or excited by. 

I have spent years in America discipling girls. Learning how to counsel in different kinds of issues. Learning how to get to the heart of a matter. Learning how to invest and care and be consistent. I know how they think. I know their worldview. I know what makes them tick and why the do what they do. 

But now, I am stuck. I can't really do any of those things to the degree I would like to. There are a few girls who know English really well and I feel like I have been able to invest in their lives but even that is to a different extent. I can't talk to them in their heart language. 

And that's why we are giving our lives. 

So that in 3 years I can speak and understand Albanian. So that in 4 or 5 years, maybe I can completely lead a bible study in Albanian. So that in 10 years I feel comfortable discipling and counseling girls and women. Give or take a few years for all of those. 

Is that worth it? Is it worth it to completely start over your life when you could have ministered to people who's language you knew, and culture you knew, and worldview you were a part of? 

While I was curling hair, I kept thinking of the verse He who is faithful in little will be faithful in much. 

I want to be faithful in much. I want to invest in their souls. So right now, I will curl hair and make carrot muffins and study Albanian until my brain is raw. I will do a bible study with someone translating. And I will love them with Christ's love in every tangible way I can think of. 

So we will learn. And we will stay. So that one day we don't feel like 2 year olds. So that one day we can invest in their souls. 

Right now we are building a foundation. We are laying the groundwork. We are preparing and collecting the materials for the building. Actually, God is doing that. And even though He doesn't need us, He is letting us be a part of it. 

It's tiring. It's a lot of work. It's confusing and painful and exciting and beautiful. 

And it's totally worth it.

Fall and Not Enough Food

The cold air and the brown trees definitely signify it is Fall. Or winter. To me, anything other than summer might as well be winter. I mean what's really the difference. Cold is cold is cold.  

Technically, it is fall. The leaves are falling. What was green is turning orange and brown. The drive to church is beautiful. Fields and mountains of gold. Our pellet stove is on most of the day and we are so thankful that we have the heating all figured out and working. Everyone is bundled up and some people are unrecognizable. 

But, there are no fall decorations in the shops. There are no pumpkin patches with corn mazes and apple cider. There are no French's Fried Onions and Priscilla's Yams displays when you walk into the grocery store. There are no Pumpkin Spice Lattes or Maple Scones. (Can you tell I think about food a lot?) 

I have realized the things I thought I didn't care about, I actually did look forward to. Subconsciously of course. It's being so far removed that make me reminisce. Or maybe I just miss the food. That's probably it. 

And if I lived somewhere where it was perpetually warm I wouldn't reminisce because I would be so happy about the heavenly weather. 

It's the cold+the absence of "fall" that makes me feel a little bit like something is missing.  

But, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. So it's this strange feeling of tension. Kind of missing what you've left behind, but not enough to want to return to it. 

So, I will make pumpkin muffins and eat a lot of mandarin oranges because apparently they are in season right now. They are amazing and dirt cheap. We eat about a kilo a day. There are pumpkins everywhere also but the Albanians don't use them for anything. They don't cook with them at all. I keep making pumpkin desserts for bible studies and they are all weirded out and then blown away that you can't taste the pumpkin. 

One thing I am loving about this season is that life, in many senses, has slowed down. Our days are full but it is more of a routine than the psychotic roller coaster of the summer. There are consistent bible studies. There is much more time to study Albanian. There is time to sit down and eat dinner together. There is time to figure out how to cook with different flavors. There is time to pour into the church ministries. There is time to catch up with our families and friends. We have people over for dinner. 

*There is time to begin understanding this culture. Like tip of the iceberg begin. The more we know, the more we feel that we are in a fog. 

A veteran missionary here recently told Cory that Albanian culture, at it's core, has the shame and honor values of an Eastern culture, but they are masked by an Western face. 

Meaning, honor is a massive part of this culture but when your honor is tarred it's not necessarily public displayed. It is hidden in order to save face. We are beginning to learn what this means. We are seeing this as we build deeper relationships, run into relational issues and attempt to love people with Christ's love so as to melt away their chains of guilt. 

**Last night we had some boys from Cory's bible study over for dinner. 

Cory's Bible study-Going through Romans 

I thought 2 were coming. When 4 walked in the door I was a little stunned.

I had made 4 burgers. Cory's all time favorite meal is a blue cheese, bacon burger. So we thought we would give them a little taste of America. 

Anyways, I was currently cooking 4 burgers! Not 6! I made fries for 4 people, not 6!

The best part was, I thought Cory would be surprised too. 

Then my sweet husband said, "I told you 4..." 

I think I said "go away," but I'm not sure. 

I actually panicked. I don't really know why. Before I did something about it, I freaked out. At first I legitimately didn't know what to do. 

Finally, I started scooping up the hot, raw ground beef from the skillet and forming it into smaller burgers with my bare hands. 

I raced across the street to the bakery and bought the last bun to cut in half for Cory and I. 

I partly felt bad that he was going to get a smaller version of his favorite meal but not completely. 

"Are you mad at me?" He came up and whispered as I tried to finish dinner while the 4 boys played with Shiloh who was scowling at them. 

"....I'm trying not to be." I mumbled. My poor husband. At least I told the truth? 

I knew it wasn't his fault. I knew he had probably told me and I didn't remember. I just had to be mad at something, or someone I guess. 

The thoughts that run through your head when you are mad and panicked are kind of horrible but actually revealing. 

This wouldn't happen in America. Uh, that's not even true. 

I'm just trying to serve people here God, you could have made sure we didn't miscommunicate so I wouldn't have a bad attitude. Yes that's perfectly logical. 

It's awful and embarrassing but it's true. 

And then I realized I could let this ruin the night for me. I could be quiet, and mad at my husband and panic about the food. Or, I could serve dinner and sit down and love the boys that were at my kitchen table. I could make it fun and ask them questions or I could be quiet and boring and make my husband miserable. 

I didn't want the night to be ruined. I didn't want to be a bad testimony. I really didn't want to be mad at Cory because he is amazing and obviously thought he had told me. I knew that one of the boys is wrestling through Christianity. Doubting if it is true but wanting to believe. 

So thank the Lord by the time we had sat down for dinner I had fixed my horrible attitude. We had a great night. We laughed really hard and got to know the boys better. I was so glad all 4 of them came. The 2 "extras" were the other 2 boys brothers and they will be around for a long time after their 2 older brothers go to college.

And I'm thankful that the Lord revealed to me that sometimes, even though I think I don't, I do compare Albania to America. Even though I love it and I'm thrilled and feel so privileged, when things don't go my way I blame it on this country. 

Sometimes, I actually think that life should be easier here because we are "trying to serve." Why does our electricity go out, and our heater explode and our light fixture shatter? I know that's ridiculous, but it's in my heart. 

So I'm thankful that the Lord lets me be here, watching Him work, even though I am very undeserving of it. And I'm thankful for my husband who always forgives me without thinking twice. 

***Halloween here is actually a "new" thing. They have just begun to catch on. It is a bit different in that EVERYONE is a monster looking creature. They don't really change up the costumes. They put face paint on and have parties. A few kids stopped by to trick or treat...they asked for money. They are kind of getting the idea? 

****Today at the youth meeting, Cory is speaking on the story of Nicodemus. What does it mean to be born again? What does it mean to be born of the spirit? We are discussing these things this morning as we drink coffee in our kitchen. His audience is an ideal group in many ways. They have heard the gospel. The basics. Many of them have grasped onto what they have learned. Many of them return because they still have questions. On Tuesday, none of the girls in my bible study knew that the Holy Spirit came to live in a believer. They didn't know what changed them. So today, when Cory talks about being born again of the spirit and walking in the light, much of it will be brand new. They have never heard this before. Sometimes we wish we knew how to relate to that. To this complete blank slate of spiritual understanding. 

****We can't believe we have almost been here 5 months. Sometimes it feels like it's been 5 years. Which is encouraging. Because we imagine what it will be like after we have been here 5 years. The relationships, the language, the experience. 

Thank you for your constant encouragement and support. We know we are never alone. Because of Christ and because of you. 

And they are so cute...

Jams and Pickles

This was last week but I didn't have a chance to post it...

Besa lives on top of the mountain behind my house on the outskirts of Pogradec. 

It's probably not a mountain, but it's definitely not a hill. There should be a word for this kind of in-between dirt mound. 

I had driven there before to drop off "the frueets for the jams." Her mom is worried that this young mom from America is not ready for the Albanian winter. She's probably right. So, she wanted to get me ready by stocking me up with some frueets for the winter. Jam. 

We don't eat jam. Mostly because we don't eat bread here. The bread here is all white, fluffy goodness. It tastes good, but that's where the goodness of it ends. Sometimes I dream about Ezekiel raisin bread. I'm not joking. 

But the dear woman insisted on making me jam. I couldn't say no. Fig jam. Peach jam. Plum jam. When I tasted it my mouth watered because of how sweet it was. Kind of like a Warhead. Those intensely sour candies from elementary school. I haven't thought about Warheads in probably 15 years. But when I tasted that jam, it was the first thing that came to mind. Not because it was sour but because of the intensity of the sweetness. 

I think we almost rolled over a cliff when I drove there last time. There is literally a 2 foot deep crevice in the middle of the road. It is made of dirt and rocks but it is at about a 90 degree angle. It's steep and the rocks make it slippery.

Today I went to Besa's again for a visit. She is leaving for school in Tirana on Saturday and I told her I would come to her house before she left.  I told her that this time we were definitely walking because the drive was terrifying. 

I am a little embarrassed to say I was kind of dreading it. 

The hike. You walk a different way than you drive. I wasn't sure what the walking road was like but I was expecting it to be pretty bad because of how high her house is. I couldn't take my stroller because of the road and Shiloh Belle is getting chubby! Also, pregnancy just makes me tired. Not sick but super tired. I'm no workout phenom either. I wasn't looking forward to carrying Shiloh up the bigger than a hill dirt mound.

The pickles. I'm afraid of pickles. Not like I just don't like them. When I see them my stomach turns. And that's even when I'm not pregnant. I am always offered food everywhere I go. And for some reason, they do something to their vegetables here that makes them all taste like pickles. It looks like a perfectly normal pepper and then all of sudden you are eating a pickle. Last time I went to Bruna's house I was offered a red pepper stuffed with cabbage. It looked normal enough. Pickle. 

The time. We have been doing language lessons almost every morning this week. The power has been going off every 5, 10 or 20 minutes so I can't finish my laundry. The light fixture in our kitchen dropped to the floor and shattered all over the place the other day so we had to find a new one and get that fixed. I have also decided that when I said a dishwasher didn't save that much time I was crazy. Shiloh's getting teeth and is a cranky pig. I am going to Greece tomorrow to get her shots so I need to get ready for that. A long visit up the mountain felt like a bit much. 

Only selfish reasons. Nothing legitimate. My week has been a little full but whatever. Such is life. 

The hike wasn't half as bad as I thought it was going to be and the view was incredible. It's crazy how beautiful something can be from far away. That sounds bad. But what I mean is that you can't see the trash and the dirt and the bad roads and the crumbling buildings. It's amazing. 

Besa's mom and grandma welcomed us in and ate Shiloh up. 

Albanian homes are immaculate. They mop every day. Their is not a spec of dirt or dust in sight. It was full of gorgeous hand made decorations. Rugs, linens, napkins, pillows. There is truly something to be learned from the way Albanian women care for their homes. It is their job, and they take pride in it. 

We sat down in the living room and Shiloh was the center of attention of course. Whenever you make a visit to an Albanian's home you are given a candy and a drink that tastes like sugar water. If you are a man, you are given Raki which is an alcohol they make that is about 95% alcohol. The men here drink it all day long. Small sips. Coffee, Raki, Coffee, Raki, and so on. 

Besa's grandma is 94 years old. She got married when she was 15 and her husband died 45 years ago. I can't believe all of the history that she has lived through. 

I asked her (through Besa translating) about communism. The difference between Albania then and now. She liked it better before, she said. It was cleaner. Safer. There were more jobs. There was structure. She loved Enver Hoxha (known as one of the worst dictators in history). She wishes he would come back. What do you say to that? 

Besa then showed me her "paya." This is the clothing, linen ect. that will be given to her when she gets married. Her mom has been working on it for 2 years. Before that she was busy with Besa's two older sisters who are now married. It was beautiful work and looked so time consuming. Besa and her mom were very proud of it. Rightly so. 

Besa's mom gave me some knit socks that are awesome. She also told me she wants to knit Shiloh some pants and a jacket. 

I somehow got roped into eating lunch. My second lunch for the day. There were peppers. They looked normal enough. Besa's mom wanted to make sure I ate a lot because I am pregnant. I tried to explain 4 times that I had lunch before I came. It didn't matter. I'm pregnant so I should eat! I wasn't touching the peppers. They kept pointing and asking why.  So I tasted one. I think I made an awful face. It was completely accidental. That was the worst one I had ever had. I said it just surprised me. Which was an understatement. I was shocked. I don't know how they get them to taste like straight up vinegar pickles. I simply could not have another bite. I smiled and chewed for a LONG time. 

I later found out that Albania has a very strong culture of "returning favors" for lack of a better phrase. Or: showing honor and respect in a relationship is a constant ebb and flow of "treating each other." If I invite you to my house, you invite me to yours. If you take me out for coffee, I take you out for coffee. And it's not like a burdensome obligation. It is an honor. It is a sign of friendship. Besa had been in my home many many times. I couldn't figure out why she wanted me to go to hers so bad. But it was for the relationship. She wanted to honor me by having me in her home. In many ways it solidifies our relationship. 

I am so thankful that I went to her house that day. In such a short time I learned so much about Albanians. 

The way they treat guests. 

The way they care for their home. 

The way they build relationships. 

The way they care for their families. 

The way they value loyalty and conscientiousness. 

I left with a pair of pants for Shiloh, apples, wool socks, a handkerchief and a ton of walnuts. 

When I left, I invited Besa's mom to the women's bible study. 

She came on Monday. She told the women that last year, Besa got on a bus and met an American (a guy on one of our teams) who invited her to English camp. Besa went to camp. She became a Christian. This year, her brother came to camp. He became a Christian. Now, Besa's mom said, I am learning too. The rest of the women started talking about the changes that had taken places in their sons after they attended camp and got involved in church. And I realized that almost every women there, was coming to bible study because they had seen their sons and daughters change. They had watch how Christ transformed their life. And they want to know why. 

I truly cannot believe we get to be a part of this. I cannot believe that even though I complain about eating pickles and being tired and walking far, the Lord still lets me watch Him work in Albania. 

We are so thankful that we get to watch this little church plant from the beginning. We cannot wait to look back in 5, 10 and 20 years and see what the Lord has done.