Thawed

Last year, at exactly this time, I wrote this blog, entitled "Frozen."

I was literally frozen. 

And as you can see, today's blog titled, is "Thawed," which isn't exactly accurate because I was never frozen this winter to begin with. 

This winter has been a joke. I would say that if I was a fan of winter and all things winter. Because I would be disappointed with this winter. 

But I am not. So I will say this winter has been AMAZING. GLORIOUS. 

WARM? Yes, I would say it has actually been warm. 

Here are Shiloh and I the other day. 

                                      

I even had to take my coat off because I was so warm in the sun. 

No one seems to be making as big a deal of it as me. 

But I, I am thrilled out of my mind. 

Grant it, there have been some cold days, in fact the last few have been colder, but nothing like last year.

Last year I sat in one room of my house for the majority of 4 months. 

IF I went outside, I wore: 

A long sleeve shirt. 
A heavy duty sweatshirt. 
A coat. 
A scarf. 
A hat. 
Leggings. 
Jeans. 
Two pairs of socks. 
Boots. 
Gloves. 

And I was pregnant and isn't that supposed to amp up your body temp? 

This winter we have gone outside most days.

When the above picture was taken I was wearing: 

A shirt.
A sweater. 
Jeans. 
Boots. 

Is this for real? 

In November I kept waiting for winter to start. It never did. 

In December I braced myself for it to be even colder. It didn't happen. 

Now, I am just enjoying it. If winter hits, I won't even care because of how the last 2 1/2 months have been. 

And how ironic is all this?

Last year I had NO IDEA how cold it got here and it was an exceptionally bad winter. 

This winter I was completely prepared (with extra sweatpants, slippers, heaters) for it to be even colder, and here I am ditching my new coat on our walks. 

So I am extremely THANKFUL. 

I am thankful that we are able to be out and about. 
I am thankful that our water pipes have only frozen once. 
I am thankful that I don't feel quite as cooped up or stranded. 

So, it just goes to show you how the Lord teaches us things, even in something dumb like the weather. 

He doesn't give us the hard thing we are expecting or He does give us the hard thing we weren't expecting. 

And it could partly be too, that I am adjusting. I can't tell though. I know for a fact that it hasn't been as cold, but I may also define cold a little differently than I did before.

We change as do our circumstances, and it always is a combination of the two. 

For example, I wrote this on New Years and never posted it: 

...We just rang in the New Year here in Albania.

LAST year, I remember this very moment.

I sat on the couch in my living room, watching the fireworks, and crying.

I was crying because I was tired. It was so loud. I was afraid my baby would wake up. I thought it was a dumb tradition.

Why? What's fun about lighting fireworks and hitting your neighbors windows??

THIS year, we stood on the balcony, eating popcorn, and watching the fireworks.

I'm not sure to what I can account such a drastic change. In fact, I was expecting to thoroughly NOT enjoy this year as well.

But it's been a blast. We've stayed up talking and laughing, and now here we are in 2016.

I don't know if it's because I was pregnant last year. Or because the sudden war zone of fireworks was unexpected.

But it was definitely not welcome in 2015. 

And I'm not sure if something has changed in me.

If I'm less uptight. Or more "Albanian."

But it is pretty hilarious to reflect...

                            

So I don't know if there were actually less fireworks, or if I just experienced it differently because I have changed. 

I guess there is now way of knowing for sure. 

But I'm thankful that the Lord changes us even when we don't realize it, and even in the little things like weather and fireworks. 


And next time, I will do a little catch up and tell you about the Christmas season and the ministry that has come out of it. 

Shiloh and her bestie Sarah on a walk 

Shiloh likes to wear winter clothes no matter what the temp. And she also likes to have "two babies like Mommy" 

On the Inside

It's been about 2 months. 

I don't really know why. 

Partly because the "new" things I am experiencing are more relational than physical if that makes sense. 

It still turns my stomach to go to the butcher, but that's not really new anymore. 

What is more new is the depth of our relationships here in Albania with Albanians. 

With that comes conflict, cultural confusion and constant conversation. 

Some of those things are more difficult to write about and to explain. 

In America culture is glorified. 

People travel the world to experience different cultures. 

People boast (and rightly so) about the culture they come from. 

People find their identity in saying "I love different cultures.'

People talk about how they love a certain culture simply because they have eaten it's food or watched it's traditional dance. 

And none of these things are wrong. 

But it can be a bit short sighted. 

I have even experienced that within myself. 

I LOVE the Albanian culture. 

I love dancing in a circle to the folk music. 

I love that people look like they're angrily fighting when they are actually only conversing about the weather. 

I love that when you visit their home, they serve you and treat you like royalty. 

I love that when they greet each other they kiss each cheek and ask each other how they are and how they've been 16 times.

 And every time the answer is "good." 

No matter what. 

But really, these are all surface things. 

You could observe these things in a day. You could experience these things with a short visit. 

And I think that often times when people talk about culture, this is what they are referring to. 

But what about weeks in, months in, years in? 

What becomes different, or what do you see that you didn't see before? 

And does the beauty of the culture fade? 

In the last 2 months since I've blogged I've experienced more than just the burnt sausage and the nightly xhiro. 

Systems. 

Education, Economy, Medical care. 

Corruption is everywhere, I know. 

But when you have to bribe the doctor for a diagnosis, or the school director for a job, or the border police to let you through with extra goods, everything is a little different. 

It changes the conversations you have. It's one thing to know these things are realities, and its another to watch your friends go through them. 

How do you tell someone not to cheat when they have never heard it's wrong? When it is expected by the teacher that you will cheat? When it is essentially written into the system?

What do you say to someone that won't get a job unless they bribe someone? Even though they tested the highest and should receive the job? 

How do you tell someone that the doctor is cheating them and the diagnosis is wrong? When they are scared for their apparently fatally ill child? 

Friendship. 

I've experienced friendship in a whole new way. 

Here, you talk to your friends multiple times a week. Not just on the phone. But you go out to coffee, you go on a walk, you spend time together. Multiple times a week at the least. 

So, it would follow that you would have fewer friends. That is not easy to maintain, when you are in school or working or have children. 

And so it is here. You have fewer friends but the relationships are more high maintenance. 

I have spent hours in the last few months explaining in my broken Albanian to different girls, that I really do care about them. 

I'm sorry that I don't call them all the time. I'm sorry that we don't spend more time together. 

I really do care about them. And I will work on it. 

I didn't realize that they wanted more of a relationship. I didn't know what it took to maintain that. 

And the way they let you know is to completely shut you out. 

All of a sudden one day I realized that a few of them were mad at me. 

But sometimes being mad is a way of showing you've been hurt. 

Death. 

A boy in our youth group died in a car accident on New Years morning. 

It was tragic and it is difficult to write about. 

I believe it will forever change many of our students and families. 

In Albania, you mourn when someone dies. For days and months.

All the family and friends visit the house of the family and sit in silence while the women in the immediate family weep and wail. 

We do not "mourn" in this sense in America. 

We do not scream and chant and shriek for days as people pour into our home. 

Then the next day everyone walks from the family's house to the cemetery, following behind the casket. 

I walked arm in arm with girls who had been classmates with him for years. He was 19 years old and loved by many. 

The women mourn as the casket is lowered into the ground. People lay flowers on the grave. 

You greet the entire family, and leave. 

I have never experienced anything like that. 

Please pray for the family of this boy. He was the only believer in his family. 

And again I ask: Does the beauty of the culture fade? 

I believe that these "new experiences" have only made me love Albania all the more.

Sympathizing in injustice, fighting for friendship and crying in death, bonds you to people. 

There is something more beautiful than the dancing and the food and the interesting customs. 

There are varying world views, and deep-seated traditions and dissimilar adversities. 

And it is truly a privilege to be allowed in. 

I want desperately to help those who have been cheated by the system or who are hopeless about their future. 

I almost felt glad that they were mad at me. It means I'm not as much on the outside anymore. 

I've always watched the funeral processions from our balcony, but it is entirely different to be a part of one. 

I'm sure in a few months or years, these things will seem so elementary to me. 

So while I love the food and the dancing and the loud talking, I am learning that that is not only what makes Albania, Albania. 

And I am committed to keeping up with this blog more than I have in the last 2 months. 

I don't want to forget these things and I can't wait to look back in 5, 10, and 20 years and realize how little I understood and how little I knew. 

Next time, I will tell you how amazing this winter has been. 

Coffee Time

There are so many things I could write about that sometimes I don't know where to begin. 

Or rather, I don't have the time to write about everything I could write about. So I pick and choose based on what I know I will want to remember years from now. 

The other day I was sitting having a 'coffee' with Shiloh. I'm not sure what I would be doing with her if we lived in America. But here, you have coffee. 

I don't know how much I have talked about "coffee" here in Albania but it is a pillar of Albanian culture. 

It is basically the ONLY form of communal interaction. 

Yes, people visit each other at their houses. But "going for a coffee" is where its at. 

All day every day. 

They sip on tiny espressos that cost around 40 cents a piece. 

And it has become ingrained in our family life as well. 

Cory goes for a coffee with boys or Erion or Chad every day. 

I go for coffee with girls. 

And now Shiloh and I go for a coffee. 

And the other day, as we were sitting there I was thinking about how "different" her life has become and will continue to be. 

We were outside at a local coffee shop called "Bar Liqeni," surrounded by men smoking and sipping their espressos. 

We stand out, obviously. I'm not exactly sure where all the moms and kids are during that time of the day, but they are not out. 

I order her a juice. She gets so excited and says "Juice, lummy" a hundred times. 

Right before the waiter brings it, we hear the call to prayer coming from the Mosque a hundred yards away. 

She tries to say "Faleminderit" or "Thank you" to the waiter but that is WAY to long of a word. 

We sit there and drink our drinks and she climbs up and down from the chair over and over again. 

Every time I look around at least 5 people are looking at us. 

I'm not sure exactly why. Maybe one day I will figure it out. 

Watching Shiloh grow up in the midst of two cultures is crazy to watch. 

The other day she was counting and said "1,2,3" in English and then "4,5,6" in Albanian. 

She is starting to understand bits of Albanian and use certain words. 

She stares at Cory and I when we speak in Albanian as if she doesn't know who we are. 

When Cory sings in Albanian she says "Erion" because she always hangs out with him church during the worship. 

She has started to say "Pafshim (goodbye)" "Te dua (I love you)." 

Soon, she will speak Albanian better than we do. She will be correcting us. It is weird to think that our daughter will be so much better at something she will spend so little time on. 

She will understand the culture better than we will. 

She will be in many ways, Albanian. 

But she will also be American. 

She will, in essence, have her own culture made up of her own fusion of the two. 

I pray that we will know how to parent her as we raise her in the midst of two cultures. And Taliah as well.

But for now, this is her only reality. 

She doesn't remember the malls and plastic playgrounds and pumpkin patches in America. 

She knows that we go on a walk every day, that she drinks a juice, and that she can climb on the "Big Man" as we call him, by the lake. 

Praying Out loud

I grew up praying out loud. 

It was something I never really thought twice about. 

God was real and God was there and we could talk to Him. 

My parents did a faithful job to ingrain that into me at a young age. 

This last Friday at my girls bible study was the first time in my memory I can remember actually being SCARED to pray out loud. 

Every week in bible study it somewhat feels like pulling teeth to get the girls to pray out loud. 

There are a few who are totally comfortable and pray every week but I am constantly working on the rest of them. 

We talk about what prayer is. How God can hear us. It doesn't have to be long. Just tell him thank you...ect. 

 But, I understand. 

Up until a year ago, most of them didn't know who Jesus was. They had never read the Bible. 

So I could see that closing your eyes and talking out loud in front of your peers to "God" might feel a bit weird, for lack of a better word. 

But on Friday I really put myself in their shoes. 

I told them that if I prayed out loud in ALBANIAN they would have no excuse not to pray out loud. 

And then I actually got nervous. I don't really get embarrassed  but I was so nervous I like covered by my face and started laughing. 

It was really weird. Like my face felt warm and I got like an adrenalin rush. 

I can count on a few fingers how many times in my life I felt like that. 

I don't really know why I freaked out. 

I think because when I speak Albanian it's not serious and I don't care if I mess up or if I make them laugh. I mess up every day all day. Every word I say. 

But praying is different and I didn't want to mess that up. 

I tried to change my mind and tell them I was going to pray in English but they all started yelling at me. 

One girl said "Kristine I have never seen you like this before!" 

No kidding. 

So finally after a good 3 minutes, I pulled myself together. 

I prayed a really, short, simple prayer, thanking God for the girls, His word and our time together. 

They all smiled really big when I finished. 

And then I told them they have no excuse any more. If I can (kind of) talk to God in Albanian, they can talk to Him in their own language.

We will see what happens. 

But there is something really amazing about watching someone talk to God out loud for the first time. 

There is something really sweet about teaching them what prayer is. 

And it bonds them, and us together. 

To be nervous in front of each other and overcome that and talk to God together. 

I am feeling sad because so many of the girls in my bible study are seniors. 

Most of them will leave next year. For Tirana or another city in Albania. 

I am feeling the weight of wanting them to be ready to pursue God in a new place, away from people who they know will keep them accountable. 

Please pray for them this next year as the make decisions and plan their life. 

And pray for me that I would know how to love, shepherd and care for them this year. 

Here's to Winter!

A few days ago we said goodbye to my Aunt Tracy and cousin Stephanie. 

They flew back from America with us and we had the best time with them. It was so sad to see them go. Shiloh loves them both and I know she will miss them as much as we will. 

Today she looked at me and said "Goose? Bye Bye?" (We call Stephanie "Goose")

After almost 6 months of non-stop visitors, our house feels so quiet and empty with just the four of us. 

We had a few days here and there without people, but other than that we have had family and friends and teams since May. It has been a blast and we are sad that it is over. 

But we are also looking forward to what this new season will bring. 

While there are a few things I am not totally excited about such as: 

The cold.

The snow. 

The ice. 

This means I will be inside A LOT. 

This means our water pipes will freeze and we will have to boil water to dump on the pipes outside to thaw them. 

This means we rearrange our kitchen/living room so that our stove can go through the chimney. 

This means there is a big metal pipe going through the girls room for the stove. And it leaks water when it rains. (Shiloh just woke up and was not happy about this picture being taken)

This also means I won't take very many showers because the bathroom isn't heated and the hot water runs out too fast. Sorry Cory. 

But, I'm a wimp. There are so many people who have so much less than me and deal with the winter way better than I do. 

So here's to being THANKFUL and focusing on what I CAN look forward to about this season: 

Building deeper relationships with the girls in my bible study as I will have more time to focus on them. 

Spending more time studying Albanian. (We have told our teacher that she has a job for life...because that's how long this is going to take us!)

Our winter events like the Drama and Winter Challenge. 

Special time with my sweet little family. 

Our new church and all of the excitement and challenges that brings. 

So, I am thankful for the seasons. (I don't think I ever thought I would say that, let alone actually think it)

Both outside and inside our little home. 

Here's to Winter! 

I skip Fall because cold is cold. Cold is Winter. It's probably still Fall, technically, but it's cold so....

Winter. 

In many ways this winter will also look different than last winter did. 

With the start of our new church, there is much more ministry going on within our city. 

Last year we were predominantly focused on youth.

But from that has grown incredible opportunity. 

We have a women's bible study (which I have talked about before). 

We now have a Jr. High girls bible study. 

We are doing Children's ministry at church on Sunday. 

We are starting Awana. 

We are training the "leaders" in our youth group to be leaders. 

We will have students begin their own bible studies. 

And I think what makes it all feel so "full" is that right now, there is really only us 3 couples working at this. 

This includes everything that comes with a church service: music, preaching, set up, "community" time (which means we make desserts each week), children's ministry ect. 

It is kind of crazy to watch this all happen right before our eyes. I don't even really know how to process it. 

When we first came here I don't think I realized what we would watch God do. 

Here is a picture of our first "team" meeting since the Lambert's arrived. 

We are so excited for what is to come, overwhelmed with what needs to be done, and thankful for each other.