A New Beginning

The first night at Zoya's was a small piece of heaven. For the first time since we moved to this village, I didn't worry about someone banging on our door at night or wanting to throw us out. We are out of reach of the family and it was so peaceful. Zoya made dinner for us and we sat in our room and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Lots of stuff had been sold, everything had been moved, the money had been collected. I went back to our old house a few days later and it was completely different. They had already re-white washed, moved all of the rooms around and were settled in. It was bittersweet to realize we weren't missed and there were no regrets with throwing us out even though we ourselves were glad to be gone.
And then the ministry began. We had talked with the Ragu (*code name we gave the people group) pastor we knew two weeks earlier about working in the far off villages with the two groups that were struggling. These two groups were small; believers who were meeting together weekly with no one to lead them. They had a Bible but, again, they are oral so they wouldn't turn to printed literature for information. They were being persecuted by their villages and one village even tried to throw them all out! They fought back and were allowed to stay.
We traveled south making plans to see them. We were heading toward the border and therefore required special documents to stay there. We applied for them at the right office and they informed us it would be 10 days until they were ready. 10 days! We didn't have 10 days! Our time was ticking away as it was. So, we did what every other respectable person would. We took the back, dirt roads that the police didn't monitor to the villages and hid out in a house.
What an amazing time those 2 months were! We met with some women to teach them everything we knew about Bible storying. We taught them how to sit down with the Russian text and walk through a story and turn it into an Ragu* orally told story.
They were incredible. They caught on within hours. 3 of them would stick their heads together over text and come out with a wonderful story. I would guide them in asking questions like, "Why did you include that detail? Is it important for Ragu people? Will a general audience understand the terms you've used in this story?". They were adamant about not including any Russian words, which I was glad about, and were very good on making sure the story was accurate.
They gave of their time in the midst of running a house and having small children. They took the stories and shared them with the group. The head guy was thrilled and not threatened at all, which was a huge blessing. Everyone in the group learned the story and were told to tell it to others and they each came back with stories about when they did. It was so exciting to watch storying take off.

The Move

I went to see my language helper sometime in the next few days and told her the story. It was great to see her after being gone so long. She patted my shoulder, gave me tea, told me not to cry and offered some suggestions. We could move into a house that was for rent across the street. But we didn't have any furniture. Our house had come completely furnished, with mattresses and all. Then she offered a room in her home. She said her one daughter who normally would be home for the summer was doing an internship at school and wouldn't be around. It would just be her all summer. Relief flooded over me. A place to live.
We told S, the owner's sister, that we weren't leaving until she paid us the money she owed us (she had borrowed $300 from us) and the rent money we had already paid. These were high sums but she agreed. She had been in the hospital with her new baby and had just arrived back home.
With her arrival came the whole family. The tradition when someone has a new baby is that the entire family, from both sides, comes over or in from another village and throws a party. That means 3 days after us arriving, our house was packed with drunk people wanting to see the baby, helping get the house setup for the baby, cooking or just making a mess and a lot of noise. It was not a pretty scene for us who were trying to move things out piece by piece or trying to catch some sleep when they were hanging a clothesline in the room next door at midnight.
Curt and I finally decided that this was our final sign from the Lord that He did not want us to stay. Our visa only gave us three months. Campus Crusade only gave us three months. We didn't have a place to live.
So, we began selling everything. All the stuff that we had been carefully buying and setting up just months earlier was getting sold. Buckets, containers, our stove, fridge, firewood bought for the coming winter, etc. Piece by piece we tried to sell as much as we could.
Living in that house was tough. The couple never apologized or even tried to help with anything. It seemed totally normal that they should come in and take over. So, we lived with anger and stress for a week and a half. Finally, the families left and it became quieter but we still had to deal with things like them lighting the house stove in June until it was about 100 degrees inside to wash the baby. They have lots of superstitions and one is that a baby should never be cold or chilly. When the baby needed a bath, the whole house had to be hot. Siberian houses maintain their heat and we sweat the whole night.
Finally, they got us our money, bought a few things off of us (thankfully they also bought the firewood and we didn't have to move 2 dump trucks in our CRV) and after multiple trips to Zoya's, we were out. We were so glad to be done with that. Zoya had a good sized shed where we could store things that hadn't been sold and she was so welcoming. If there wasn't Zoya, we would be lost. The Lord knew what He was doing when He introduced us.

A Break In the Story

On February 13th, a judge in Ethiopia ruled in our favor and legally signed our girls over to us. They are now ours. We just have to go and get them. We have our Embassy date! Please pray with us that the rest of the details would come together. We will be traveling in mid-March. We will keep you updated. Here they are! Turism, Turi, is 8 and is the one in the back. The next biggest is Bitsuanit, or Bitsu, and she is 7. The little one is Tihitina, or Tihi, and she is 5.

Our Return

Our trip out to train other missionaries went well. It was actually quite fun. The people group that they were among was related to ours so some of them could understand when I spoke our people group's language. It was instant love. They couldn't believe I would take the time to learn a local language. Theirs was dying out and they were trying to fight hard to make sure it stayed around. The missionaries, who were fluent in Russian, were amazed at how we were received and said, as we were leaving, "We have decided to learn their native language. We can't believe what a difference it makes!".
We went to a conference in Poland and onto the States. As we were preparing to fly back out, our passports returned with our new visas. On them was stamped the new law: only allowed to stay 3 months out of every 6. We were so sure that we would fly under the radar. What were we going to do now? How can you only live in a country 6 months out of the year? Where would you go the rest of the time?
We didn't have time to worry about it. We were flying out the next day. So, we flew to a country in Central Asia for a training we had. Some of our supervisors were there and we hadn't connected with them for quite some time. We all got to sit down, catch up and enjoy our time together. Then they dropped the bomb. Campus Crusade for Christ was uncomfortable with our placement. We were so far out that their liability structures couldn't cover us if something did happen. They gave us 3 more months to stay in the country. We began facing the question: should we stay with Crusade or join another organization that would allow us to stay?
We traveled back to Russia. We were exhausted and just wanted to crash. We had been traveling for almost 2 months in 4 countries. We flew into Siberia and as planned our friend from our region arrived with our car. He was one of the national believers from the city. We all drove back down together. It was a wonderful drive where our friend, G, began sharing about the difficulties they were having of working with some groups of believers in villages that were so far out. We talked about it a lot and began to wonder if God was planning something for us in this.
We dropped him off at his house in the city, picked up our cat and drove the last 3 hours home. We arrived and the house was still standing although there was an extra car parked in our yard that looked like it was there permanently. We entered the house and found S's (the owner's sister) husband asleep and drunk in our bed. The whole house was different. All of S's stuff (new furniture, kitchen things, etc.) were all moved into the house. Our stuff was pushed out of the way. Our office room was now a bedroom. Our living room was packed with their things and all the stuff we left in there was gone. We went and forced S's husband out of the bed and demanded to know what was going on. He just stumbled out.
We panicked. Why was all their stuff here? S was in the hospital and just gave birth to a baby 2 days before. How long were they planning to stay?
Finally, S's husband stumbled back in and explained they lived there now and we had to move out. Excuse me? I just flew all the way back from America to find I don't have a place to live? I was livid and told him that he was wrong. He would have to find someone else to live. He left. He returned with A's dad, who was actually sober. He also explained that they lived here now and they had a baby to take care of and that was that. We had to move. We were crushed. All this work that we put into this place. Our home. Where were we going to go?
We called A. She said there had been a big fight and she didn't want them living there but there was nothing she could do. She was in the city for the summer studying and her family wasn't talking to her. Sorry.
Sorry? We now had no advocate. The whole family wanted us out. We had no contract or documents to go to the administration with. And they were asking how long it would take us to leave. S's husband didn't want to work and this house was free. They were moving to the very place they promised they would never want, mainly because there was no work to be had in our village.
The emotions are indescribable. Exhaustion. Panic. Dread thinking of the amount of work it would take to move us. We had appliances like a stove and refrigerator. We had just ordered all of our wood for the winter that was sitting in our yard. Plus all of our stuff. And we still had the question, "Where were we to go?".