Galatians - Walk in the Spirit

I didn’t get to teach this Come Follow Me lesson to my Youth Sunday school class today, so I’ll share here, in case someone needs to hear this. I love Come follow me. I am learning so much and get so excited that keeping it to myself does not feel right. So, there. 

In chapter 3 of Galatians Apostle Paul taught the Gentiles of Galatia (today’s Turkey) that it mattered not if they were of the seed of Abraham or not to receive the same blessings promised to the Jews. Through Christ’s sacrifice, he taught, ALL believers are adopted into the new covenant. We all become one big happy family.

Nevertheless, Gentiles were convinced that only those of the seed of Abraham had a promise of special blessings. They started to turn away from the new truth brought about by Christ, their rhetoric being, well, if the Jews are a chosen people and are promised cool blessings, and we are not, why should we try to live a higher law of Christ? 

Anyway, they felt like they could not fit in with the Jews, neither could they stick to the new Christian doctrine. Both ways were foreign to them, first one did not guarantee acceptance, second was hard to do. If the Jews had been trained to ride a bicycle using training wheels (Mosaic law), the Gentiles were put on a two-wheel bike right away, and told to pedal relying on faith that velocity of two wheels can create balance and carry them through. This tough situation caused many gentiles to feel challenged and walk away from the Church.

This Bible story is centuries old, but it feels like new still. When I joined the Church and came to the land of plenty, the land run by these chosen people, I immediately felt the inferiority complex. In my mind American people, especially here, in Utah looked perfect to me. Everything they did or had was better and worth of adoration. Even the way they looked and smiled. I felt like a savage who has come out of a cave. I could not drive a car, support a conversation, or even tame my frizzy hair. 

Like Galatian gentiles, who were offered amazing things but could not accept the fact that they were worthy of blessings that came from these things, I felt like it was not going to work for me. Other people would have a fulfilling life surrounded by large family, great experiences and miracles popping for them here and there. I doubted I could ever be called to be in teaching or leadership positions in the Church. I did not have experience, knowledge, enough English vocabulary, appearance, confidence… Why would God even want me here?

In fact many immigrants stumble upon similar situation, and not only in a spiritual sense. They are Gentiles trying to get adopted into this new world of privilege, or persevere with life through greater than average amounts of humility, resilience and hard work.

I have chosen the way of an immigrant. I have chosen to start over and to learn a new culture and a language. I have put a ton of work into making this place my home, and have invested time, strength and talents raising my awesome kids, serving in the Church, helping in the community, and building my new identity. Having gone this far, I have been lifted up by so many people, erasing the difference between the savage me and the perfect them. The insecurities and weaknesses I have, are the same ones that they have. And surprise! - my strengths and abilities are needed here. I am good at something. You are good at something! Yes, sometimes we have to work harder to get through the same stretch in life, and doing so without the support of my Mom and Dad is harder and lonelier, but we still get to grow and receive Heavenly help. Even if I don’t get to enjoy all the fruits of the seeds I’m sowing, my kids and grandkids will. Even if I don’t get to live my American dream (but only work for it), my kids will be able to go farther and live five of those dreams. 

Back to my Come follow me lesson, remember, when you feel like you are not qualified for the task and question your ability to succeed, Christ has already taken you into His fold and this is all that will really matter when all is said and done. No matter how steep the mountain, how many detours, how many setbacks, we are saved because of our faith in His gift of Atonement. Our faith is no different from the faith of Mormon pioneers. It’s the same faith that transformed wicked Saul into the greatest apostle Paul. Choose to carry on and walk tall, and act now like you have already been chosen, because you chose to believe.           

I want to give thanks for everyday miracles, big and small.

Yesterday was sunny. Sunny is a big deal in Lithuania. The temps are still just below freezing, sometimes a little above, 28-40 degrees F. But with sun out it's all better and I enjoy it. We all do.

It used to be dark when kids got picked up for school at 7:45, and when they came back at little after 4 pm. Now it's broad daylight. Glorious and victorious! We've conquered a brutal Northern European winter!

Yesterday I got to visit with Nadia's English teacher for the Parent-Teacher Conference and it was a good visit. I am proud of my girl. Too bad she's putting her all into this IB program when we don't know if she can continue with it next year at an American High School. But her time-management and research skills will stay with her and I hope she'll use them in college.

After Nadia's appointment with Mrs. Segedy we proceeded to the school library for David's Parent-Student Conference. It's the same as Parent-Teacher thing, only David himself was talking about his progress. I am impressed by this kid. He has caught up with Math and Social Studies (his weak areas last year), and has been having consistent 7's (equivalent to A's). He needs a little improvement in English and Science. He is also taking Russian, Lithuanian, Music, Art and PE. His Art teacher thinks he is a fantastic artist, she invited him to join the after-school Art club on Tuesdays, and he seems to enjoy that a lot. He also has one of the lead roles in the school play Into the Woods. They are performing this Friday and Saturday. And did I mention his Rubik's cube skills? Like. A. Boss! If Nadia is my joy, he is definitely my pride.

I was glad to talk to Scott yesterday. He is in Germany. We are trying to get out of the Army. It's a long story and I am still too vulnerable to write it out. I pray for strength for him and for us every single day. Last night's scripture study was so comforting. It talked about Alma helping his people to escape the bondage of Amulon and safely arrive in Zarahemla. I so want this to be our story. I so want to be free from our "bondage." Meanwhile, I do feel how the Lord is visiting us in our afflictions. How our burdens are being made light for us to bear.

One Perfect Jew

From The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom:
"it is wrong to give people hope when there is no hope," he said. " It is wrong to base faith upon wishes. There will be war. The Germans will attack and we will fall. . . Oh, my dears, I am sorry for all Dutchmen now who do not know the power of God. For we will be beaten. But He will not."

A couple of weeks ago I took my Dad to the Holocaust museum in Washington DC and it was s life-changing experience. My father, being a man of somewhat sober mind suited for solving high-school level Algebra problems and playing chess with my 12-yr old son, had only minimal understanding of world history. It's hard to blame him entirely since Soviet school of thought was not encouraged and much of our own Russian history remains a mystery for the main part, more so for older generation of grandpas bred and raised on propaganda diet. The likes of my Dad prefer to stay in ignorance, it is less painful, and safer still to stay away from gruesome details of the past.

But the past is unstoppable, it is chasing us as a wave of unreconciled despair. At the museum  entrance each person is given out an identification card with a name, picture and ususlly a short life story of a real person who lived during Holocaust. Mine was a Polish girl who, by tremendous survived the concentration camp imprisonment and the death march, and was reunited with her love and married right after the war. The rest of her family perished.

 Hinda's miraculous survival story reminded me of another miracle that happened to my own family an. My maternal Grandfather once lived in Poland and had a decent life until the Russian pogroms scattered across captive Poland at the end of 1800's. He was one of the rebels who was arrested and exiled to Siberia where he found a wife and started a family and became successful in raising crops and cattle. He had 17 children and a large farm until Bolsheviks hadn't come out and took away all he had earned with hard labor. As if that was not enough, he was beaten to death and passed away on the bench surrounded by his family. After his death, they had it rough. Many turned to Bolshevik's ideology shattering family in pieces, which we are still trying to put together. My Mom's side of family had become bitter toward the government and life in general. Grandpa Martin's misfortune was always regarded as the root of many problems we still have in our Russian family.

Back in Holocaust museum, holding Hinda's ID card it dawned on me that the evil
Brought upon my family by Russians was still less of an evil they would have to persevere, had Grsnfpa stayed in Poland. By some divine wisdom, his seed was spared from the massacre of Polish Jews and Polish citizens. During the WWII this country has suffered the greatest human loss proportionally to its size and population. There is a good chance that we might not even come to this world if not for Grandpa's hardship and early death. Instead, they were all safely tucked in the woods of Siberia during those pivotal war years. None of his posterity has died in WWII. That's pretty much a miracle to me.

God and His power may or may not be a direct answer to our prayers, but it is always the darkest hour that precedes the manifestation of His power. And it is up to us wether we choose to see it as such or not.

Humans tend to take many things for granted. We need to be thrown off the horse from time to time and break a few bones before we can recognize the gift of our living breathing bodies and all the God-given elements that can heal it. Remember Lazarus, he had to die and be mourned by his loved ones before the incredible miracle of resurrection took place. It would not have been a Bible-worthy story if he just got sick with cold and Jesus casually healed him. But he was dead and now he walks out of his tomb - that's a miracle!
Without the refining fire there is no healing balm, there is no reaching out to Heaven, there is no conviction that the Power beyond our own can carry us through mortal journey without becoming stale with bitter blows of life.

Like these Dutch Jews and Christians that helped them during WWII - their stories should be a scripture for future generations along with other holy books. They were able to recognize the power of God transcending through life, beyond death and above religious differences. That's what makes their story so gripping. Yes for self-sacrifice, courage, unshakable character traits. But who did they draw their strength from? I want to believe and #corrietenboom testifies time and time again that it was Jesus, the one perfect Jew. #lighttheworld #thehidingplace

Giving Thanks in 2013

Oh, there is a lot to be thankful for this year.

1. birth of my baby boy Tavish. Not any regular birth, but a natural, epidural free, free flight experience. I've always wanted to try that. Like some people want to experience sky-diving, or ride an elephant - having a completely natural birth was on of my bucket list wishes. So, what if it's my fifth try. 4th actually. But 5 babies all together in the end.

2. my kids. All of them and each one of them in their own unique way. Despite occasional anxiety attacks they cause me, I love them with my whole heart and am proud of all their efforts to become decent people.

3. my husband. He is so rad. So sweet, and generous, and helpful. He is patient to get his turn of my attention after the little munchkins have received theirs, and after I've checked my Facebook account, and Vkontakte account, and my e-mail, and texts. After I've talked to my Mom on Skype and washed the dishes. I am thankful that he took over the laundry for me. And for putting the twins to bed. And for helping me to get the package together for my Russian family. Even if the shipment costs like $125. Ouch. So thankful for this man in my life.

4. my sister graduated from BYU this year - yay! She's been working on her degree for the past 8 years. She came to the States with $20 pin her pocket and now she's landed a $70K job right out of the college with no debts whatsoever. Pretty stellar for a poor immigrant girl from Russia.

5. books. I'm finally making a consious effort to read more and I've discovered that my left (or right) side of brain, the side which is responsible for Language and Arts area of study is my strength. I still think that I am a wittier and more intelligent person in Russian. And I still have no clue when exactly to put "a", "the", or no article at all, but I feel the drive to sort things out. Not only in English, but in French too.

6. neighbors. We have absolutely amazing next door neighbors. They treat us like family. This is thanks to our boys, Ethan and Levi, they are adored and treated like Gods in the Gordons' household. I guess, they are THAT cute. It's an older couple with three grown sons. Our 4 yr-old twins are great friends with their 20-something year-old boys. But even better friends with Mr. Gordon and Mrs. Gordon. Once in a while we find a ziplock bag sitting by our front door, filled with my twins' socks and a note: "We found these in our laundry and it made us smile. We washed them for you."

7. jill johnson. She is an angel friend we have and we are so thankful for all the bread she'd baked for us, for many times she watched our kids, for being always, ALWAYS, there for us. She and her whole family: Dan, Ethan, Ally, Tucker, and Landry.

8. trip to DisneyWorld this past summer. We made it with all five kids. The kids had a blast. Mom and Dad (we) survived as well. But I think it cost us lots of money, and now we are poor, and will be, for I don't know how long. But we can mark it off for the next 5 years.

9. church. My calling is still to be pianist in RS, which is great. It gives me a chance to improve, and still is pretty lax. Many friends I made at Church. We have a great Ward. We have Jenny Oaks Baker in our Ward and she is my Visiting Teaching companion. Church is such a huge part of who I am. I would be really lonely without it. I love the direction I receive there, the clarity, the wisdom, the goodness, and the fun. I love the Gospel and I know the Church is true.

10. Jesus Christ and his creation. This beautiful world we live in. I can't get enough of these dense woods our house is standing in, the birds singing, the sun shining through the brilliant emerald of greenery in the spring. The warmth of the sun and abundant growing season. For incredibly bright colored autumns, for mild winters. I am thankful for good food, and water, and all other elements of this Earth that make it such a joy to inhabit.

Ha-ha! You have to have a sense of humor to be a Mom. Yesterday morning I woke up and reached for my glass of water and almost had a heart attack. A swarm of earthworms in there! And a flower on the night table next to it. Thanks boys! You really do know what makes me happy. That's just an intro to my new day.

Like earthworms were not enough to wake me up, I got a phone call from my dear Russian friend asking me to babysit her little girl for 6 hours starting, like, in 20 minutes. And I haven't gotten out of bed yet. If only I hadn't gone to bed at 2 am last night helping Nadia with her school project carving the Supreme Court Building out of foam board.. If only my sister was still in town.. If I had not been so depressed about her departure.. I guess, I had no choice, sooner or later I would need to start living a life full of preschool-age kids and a baby. Of course, I can babysit!

It's one thing when you're dealing with them one at a time, or two at a time. But when you have them all at once - it's nuts. So be it! The house is officially invaded by an army of little people. I let them jump around, bring in bugs and piles of dirt, heck, I even let them do the dishes!

The water has been running for a little too long, for as long as Tavish has been feeding, to be precise. Do I dare to walk into the kitchen and witness the cruelty of my life? I take a peek. The pile of dishes in the sink is as monumental as it was this morning. Dish soap has changed its form from orange liquid in the bottle to thick lather on every counter top up to the ceiling and covering hard wood floors in the 5 ft radius around the kitchen sink counter. Mamma mia!

The most obnoxious thing was that the boys were having a little too much fun, sliding on the slippery floor. I was insulted that they did not even feel bad for the mess they made. Anger boiled inside my head, I rushed towards them, grabbed them by their arms and dragged them up the stairs with the intention to lock'em up in their room for the longest time-out EVAR!

But what do you know? These two were laughing the whole way, loudly and uncontrollably. They were not even a little bit upset at the prospect of sitting in their bedroom for the rest of the day! (duh, the party will just go on upstairs, haven't I learned that?) This obviously was not working. I stopped halfway, and sat on the stairs across from them. They continued laughing out loud into my huffing and puffing face. I could not hold it any more and... bursted out laughing back at them. They've won. My two little captives have totally won this battle. When there is nothing to lose and a time-out is how this awesome fun is going to be ruined then LAUGH. Laugh hard, laugh uncontrollably, laugh your lungs out, kill the party-killer with your positive attitude! They were my teachers that day, no doubt. But my supermom ability to seize the moment and teach my posterity a lesson jumped right into action.

"Ok, guys, that was fun, wasn't it? Did you have a good time? Do you wanna do something even more fun? (They nod enthusiastically.) Then come with me!" (They follow.) I get three kitchen towels out of the drawer and give one to each boy. "This is what we'll do." And I start wiping the soapy floors supporting my action by excited comments like "Oh, this is great fun! Join me! Let's do it together!" They do. Soon, our guest girl is excited about this too and asks for a towel. I hand her my towel and let the kids finish "cleaning" the kitchen. This was a much better ending to the story, I think. I'll save "time-outs" for more serious crimes.

My sister went back to Utah. I don't like it when people leave. It means relearning my life's routine all over again. It means no more Давай Поженимся с Ларисой Гузеевой (Russian TV show), no more teatime with chocolates from the Russian store. No more staying up late waiting for Ksusha to return from her date, and then later still, talking about it. No more "Let me go for a run", or "Look, I found Tavish's tickle spot!" No more dishes being washed while I put the kids to bed. Or laundry done while I drive the kids to and from their activities. My best friend is gone to live her new exciting life. All I want for her is to be happy. All I want for me is... to live in the same town. Ok, state, at least.

I don't think visiting us was the perfect vacation spot. It's more like a labor camp here. :) But she is loved here. Tavish and I will miss her the most. All the best in Utah and come again soon!

Baby's "scary" eyes say it all - Tavish with his new baby-sitter. It's going to take some time to get used to life without aunt Ksusha.

Yesterday we had a mega-busy day. Sunday, Sabbath, the day of rest.... Where art thou? Morning - whipping up zapekanka. I am at the zapekanka stage of my life and the local Russian store knows it. This is the third week in a row that I am buying 3-4 pounds of tvorog (russian style farmer's cheese) from them to experiment with yet another zapekanka recipe.

While my zapekanka's in the oven, the ribs are getting ready to dive into the crock pot for the next 10 hours. It's going to be a long day. First, Church, then drop off Dave at the Birthday party, then Nadia's Harp Recital, then home sweet home with yummy dinner, Tres Leches torte included.

Oh no, the twins are already outside with their pajama pants down, peeing on the front lawn. This is impossible. Do I pull my 3 month-old baby from the breast and run out to yell at them, or do I pretend they are not my children? Moral dilemmas... They could cause hours of heated conversation in internet forums dedicated to raising children. Thank goodness, I am not alone in this. Tavish, full of milk and warm like a brand-new cookie out of the oven, is eventually handed over to my sister who loves him to pieces. Nadia rounds up the twins. And I escape to the shower. Scott is at school for the rest of this month. I say, GWU ranks last at being a family-friendly school. Even if you are a non-Christian or atheist professor, why not leave Sunday alone?! Are there not enough days in a week? I don't get it.

Surprisingly, we make it to Church on time and even get a soft seat. Towards the end of the Sacrament meeting, the only members of our family still in the chapel are David and Nadia. Ksusha took Tavish out, and my job was to hunt Ethan and Levi down and bring them back on the straight and narrow. Remind me again, why are we at Church? Definitely, not for my spiritual nourishment. Good thing, I know it's not about me, I am not too selfish. I hope one day I will receive a confirmation to my efforts watching my boys bless and pass the Sacrament.

In the meantime I LOVE the second and third hour of Church when Ethan and Levi are placed in loving care of their Primary teachers, bless their hearts. I have to mention that instead of walking reverently with arms folded (as opposed to running) my boys like to imagine they are kitties or puppies, or, even better, caterpillars. This technique enables them to crawl out of the Chapel, through the Church hallway, and into the Primary room sort of reverently. It's a site to see. We exchange our good-bye waves - they show me their "clawed paws" like they're bears. I exhale blissfully watching my boys sitting on their chairs ready for class and suddenly I miss them so much and don't want to leave them. I make an effort to turn around and hurry into the Mother's Lounge to feed Tavish and even possibly take a short nap. That beats Sunday school, if you ask me.

We had to leave half hour early. David's very best friend had a birthday and he pleaded with David to please come. Not only him, but his sweet Mom called and asked if David could come. She knew that we don't do this kind of stuff on Sundays (last year David declined their invitation) but this is the only day they can do it, so, please, please, let David attend their party. We love this family, they've been so kind to David, so, I let David make a choice. And, despite our family tradition to devote Sundays to Church and family, David decided to go to Gianni's party. The first fruit of free agency dropped unexpectedly on my head with a 'thud'. Did he set the precedent? Are we getting swayed by the world? Today, on the way back from Dave's violin recital I asked him what did it feel like breaking the Sabbath and would he do it again? You know what he told me? Said he: "Maybe... no! (yesss, I thought to myself!) Unless.... (uh-oh!) it's Jesus's Birthday." (Phew!) I have it written down, o child of mine! And I am so proud of you for choosing the right in the end.

And that's not even it for one Sunday. Nadia's harp Recital was also yesterday. As we were getting out of the car at the Recital place, my sister said something to the effect of how cool it is that we have such a big family and so many of us are coming to support Nadia, making her feel all loved and all such things. He-he. When our gangsta filed into the dead silent room of NAfME, filled with proper people ceremoniously seated, it's like we hit the electrical wall, not sure if we were invited. It is how it is. We are loud, and laid back, and not competitive, and we are here for Nadia and hope that she can have fun doing what she is doing. I don't care if she makes mistakes, or if she gets her trophy. I just want her to be happy. Every time Tavish smiled (he smiles kinda loud), we were sure to catch three or four stern looks looking back at us. The twins could not sit still for 5 minutes and they spent a lot of time out in the hallway with Scott and me taking turns watching them. But they felt right at ease when it was all over and were the first in line to load up their paper plates with refreshments. No inhibitions whatsoever.

There were some amazing harpists and pieces played were mind-blowing. I loved it! But to us, Nadia was the best of all, of course. And she did get a trophy for practicing over 1100 minutes in the month of May. Here she is at home playing her Mother's Day gift to me a month ago. She is pretty good for a beginner. Good job, Nadia!