Potty Training

Potty training. 

It has nothing to do with missions or ministry or cross cultural experiences. 

But it is happening today and I don't want to forget it. 

Because I am first and foremost a wife and mom. And I don't want to leave that out of this blog. 

I have cloth diapers. I have shared that before. 

This means that before I wash the diapers every other night I have to spray the poop off. 

I'm sorry to be graphic but how do your really say that politely? 

And last night, as I was spraying the poop off, I just decided I was done. 

I have been dreading potty training because I know it requires a lot of time and energy and ingenuity. I didn't feel ready.

But last night I just decided enough is enough. 

Shiloh can clearly can communicate, and I know she can comprehend the concept. 

So this morning I put Shiloh's first pair of panties on. She was very excited about. 

She started downing juice and I told her every time she went pee on the potty she could have a candy. 

We set a timer and she started going every ten minutes. 

About an hour into to, she peed all over the kitchen floor. 

She was extremely startled and didn't like what had happened. 

From there it was pretty much clear sailing and she continued to go every 10 minutes. 

Or every 2 minutes is more like it. Once she caught on that she could have a chocolate chip every time she went pee, she decided she should go as frequently as possible. Who can blame her? 

I didn't want to dampen her excitement so I just went with it. 

We had a few mishaps: 

Taliah crawled over to the potty and stuck her hand in some fresh pee. 

I dropped a wipe in the potty and Shiloh wanted to sit back down again. She decided she didn't want the wipe in the potty, picked up it up and threw it, flinging pee all over the floor. 

She also dropped one of my scarves in the potty. 

Why weren't you dumping the pee out every time you ask? 

I don't know that's a good question. 

I was making cookies for boys bible study and feeding Taliah and cleaning my house so dumping out the pee every 10 minutes seemed excessive.

Especially when it was like 1 teaspoons worth. 

The victory of the day was the poop. I've never been so excited about her poop, or any poop for that matter. 

She goes every morning at the same time. That time came and went. I was getting more and more nervous. 

She is really good at tooting so I kept trying to tell her to toot. That was not working. 

But finally about 3 hours later, she told me she had to go, and she went. 

You know you're a mom when you take a picture of it. I'll spare you all. Suffice it to say, it was worth taking a picture of.  

So, when you wonder what missionary moms do all day, you have to remember that in addition to ministry, and language, and cultural experiences, there is the normal mom stuff. 

There is the potty training and the feeding and the playing and the bathing and the changing and the disciplining and the walking and the teaching and the training. 

And I've been thinking lately about how I can have the tendency to allow my children to simply exist around my schedule. And by this I mean, I can occupy them without actually giving them attention. 

I can be very task oriented instead of relationally oriented. I am a Martha, not a Mary. 

So as long as my children are "occupied" I feel like I am winning because I can "get stuff done." (I mean obviously I spend time with them, but it is not my tendency)

But I've been convicted lately that this is not the goal. To simply occupy them. 

It can be hard to balance ministry and motherhood. Especially when you are in the midst of a very exciting ministry. 

But every time I set my tasks aside, and spend focused time with my kids, I am reminded of the incredible necessity. 

And I don't want to miss it. I know they grow up so fast and I want to be a part of it. I can't believe Shiloh is already walking around in Frozen panties. How did that even happen? 

This in no way means I can't be involved in ministry or anything else but there does need to be some kind of healthy tension which I am working on somehow putting into a blog. Maybe soon I will be able to explain my thoughts on that clearly. 

But for now, here are some pictures of Potty training day 1: 

And here is my disaster of a house, but at least I won't be spraying Shiloh's poop tonight. 

Exciting Stuff

So much of our ministry here the last year has been "making ourselves known" in a sense. 

We have bible studies and youth group weekly. 

But we have also focused a ton on reaching out to the community and creating a name for Kisha Ungjillore Pogradec. 

So often here, we have seen how drawing people into the community of the church is a way that Christ draws them to himself. 

Many of our students have come for events, or plays, or day trips and then, as they get drawn into the life of the church, they get saved. Then we watch their lives change. 

This doesn't mean that the church service is watered down, or the outreach is more important the maturing the saved. But it does mean that we spend time on outreach because of the fruit we have seen from it. 

And that seems obvious. This is a church plant. There aren't other churches really to pull Christians from. We are building from the ground up. We are watching people get saved before our eyes. 

And this is truly a privilege. 

Last week the women's bible study had 20 women. I don't really know how to describe how huge or exciting this is. 

This bible study is only a year and a half old. Our church is 3 months old. 

The culture here is one that gives women "less" freedom I would say. It's not easy for them to get away from their house for "fun," or for something that doesn't necessarily benefit their home. For women to make time to come to bible study means that they want to be there. Or at least the relationship is important to them. There can always be wayward motives, but we truly talk about the Bible for an hour, and they are all interacting and thinking. 

Most of these women have little to no Biblical background. Melodie is going through Genesis to give them a foundation. Each week they ask great questions and wrestle with controversial topics. 

For Christmas, Melodie had a dinner for them at a nearby hotel/restaurant. When I walked into the room where it was being held, I thought I was in the wrong place. There were so many women there I couldn't believe it! 

When Melodie stood up and prayed, it was truly amazing to think that a year a half ago none of that existed.

Some of the women were new but most of them were women who had relationships with Melodie. 

She has visited their homes, assisted them with their newborns, walked with them in difficult circumstances, and simply been a friend to them. 

And I was just, and still am blown away by the impact that relationship has. And I feel privileged to watch this happen and privileged to learn from Melodie. And as these women continue to come to bible study, and to church, and as they continue to get saved, I get so excited to think about what God will do in their lives, in their families lives, and in the lives of so many people in this city. 




I also had a little Christmas party with my girls. You can pray for this group of girls this semester. The majority of them are going to college next year. And I'm not exactly sure where that will leave our group. 

You can pray that I would invest in them well and that as they move on in live, the truth of scripture would grow deep in their hearts. 




Right after this, we had a Christmas Program on the 25th and 26th. 

The program presented the Christmas story through monologues. Mary, Joseph, Elizabeth, a wiseman, a shepherd, and the inn keeper. 

And Cory sang 5 Christmas songs in Albanian. I was so proud of him. That is no easy task. 



After the program we had cake and drinks and met a lot of new parents and friends. 

And again, I felt so overwhelmed.

Being a part of the beginning of something is really exciting. There is something about watching this church start and grow that is just unbelievable. Especially in a place where it doesn't really exist. 

And this is what I mean by outreach. There were probably 500 people that came in those two days. 500 people that heard the story of Christmas. 500 people who have never grown up celebrating Christmas, or even really knowing what it was about. 

Obviously, not all of them will come to church, not all of them will get saved. But they know of church, they know the Christmas story, and they know us. 



Last week, we started AWANA. Or a form of it anyways. Everything here in Albania, requires a bit of "modification" for lack of a better word. 

95 kids came and sang their hearts out. Erion told the story of Christ's death through the perspective of Barabas and the kids were hooked. Afterward, we gave out Operation Christmas Child presents. They were thrilled. 

As I was looking out at all the kids, I kept thinking, some of these kids are the future of the church. One day they will be the leaders within it. 

And I'm excited to find out which ones they are. I'm excited to see which ones get saved. Which ones bring their parents and siblings and friends. Which ones grow in the knowledge of Christ. 

And as our current students helped and sang and danced, it was so fun to watch. You could tell that they were actually having a blast. They were excited too. Like they understood that this is something they are needed for and this is something that will be awesome to watch unfold. 



I've talked about numbers a lot in this blog. Do numbers really matter? 

No. Yes. 

Numbers don't "matter." One life, one profession of faith, one person growing. That is exciting. 

But as that one shares their faith with their family and friends, and then 2 and then 4, and all of a sudden you have 70 faithful people at church, that is AMAZING. 

More than anything, through the numbers, I can communicate to you what we are witnessing. 

We are watching as God slowly is changing lives. And I believe that one day, these lives will change, in many ways, the culture of this little city. 

So I'm thankful. And again, I am privileged. 

There is still growth and change that is needed, but it is exciting to be beginning in a place where the harvest sure does seem plentiful. 

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.