Learning to Love

I was thinking about love the other day. I never knew it was possible to feel so full of love. I think real love was something that was missing from my life back home.Not that I didn't love, I just didn't love then like I love now. Love that's a giving, a taking, a deep seated feeling. I was thinking about the love I have for the sisters here. Things aren't always good. It's been a rough time in St. Petersburg lately. Yet, things were talked about, discussed, dealt with and I find myself coming out of a distressing situation full of peace and love. Peace, love and contentment. We all make mistakes, we all fall, and there's this point where you have to recognize that everyone is human. We're not perfect. Sure, a situation might cause anger, pain and hurt and those are valid feelings. But if you work through them, on the other side you'll find a deep sense of calm.

I feel full of love in these days. The power and beauty of it makes me want to weep. The problem with the English language is that we only have one word to describe love, and that one word isn't a very good description in the first place because of the way our culture defines it. For our culture, love is a feeling. It's butterflies, roses and unicorns. It's flowers, chocolate and kissing in the rain. It's sex and orgasm. In our culture, love is a fickle thing. A feeling we become addicted to and then when it's gone we feel empty, lonely, broken and try to pursue it elsewhere.

But that's not true love. True love isn't just about a man and a woman. True love is still a feeling, but it's a feeling of calm, of security. It's loving people in spite of their faults. True love is a glue that binds people together. True love is not the same as compassion, though they are connected in a way. True love grows, multiplies and flourishes. It makes better whatever it touches. True love is warmth and light and shared experience. It's wanting what's best for those around you, though it isn't something that makes you feel put down and used. If you have true love it will make you better; make you want to reach out and share what you have with others. They always say that the more love you give the more you have, which is true in a sense. Love is not a selfish thing, it's meant to be shared. Yet I like to think of it a little differently. I've discovered that the more love you give, the deeper and more profound your own becomes. Perhaps bigger is a good word to describe it.

I think of it as an underground spring, bubbling from down deep and coming up to spread out and create a lake. That's how it feels inside of me. And you just want everyone to come and jump in and experience the same thing. To have their own spring of love inside of them. 

True love connects people. 

True love is Joy. 

True love is a Son sent to die for all of us. 

Philosophies of Cranberry Gathering

I went to gather cranberries on Monday. It's a Russian thing to do, gather berries. It's cool actually, there's this whole aspect of Russian culture where it's a big deal to go out to the forest and gather berries and mushrooms. Everyone knows all the types of mushrooms and berries, everyone knows places to find them outside of the city and everyone is shocked that we don't do this sort of thing in the United States.

In some ways it's really sad that we don't. I know a little about berry picking and wild plant picking. As a child growing up on the family farm I remember mom showing me where to find the raspberry bushes, picking mulberries and sucking on clover as I wandered through the fields. Although, I definitely wasn't super intense about it. I remember one time I picked and picked mulberries only to realize it would never be enough to make a pie. I make ink instead and that combined with an opened paper bag, gave me several hours of entertainment.

So I went with some of my church family to the woods outside the city where Dima knew of a cranberry bog. My favorite part was tromping through the woods too and from the bog.

Russian nature has a wildness about it, a lot like places in America's west or in Alaska, I imagine. In any case, being a nature person I was eating it up. I was felt like a five year old, tromping behind Dima and Sergei, stopping to occasionally pick a berry and eat it. Pausing to take a picture and make sure Oleg and Natasha were still following behind me.

Eventually, what seemed like a long time of wandering, the trees thinned and we started spotting cranberries. Eventually the trees disappeared completely and opened out into a large field. A cranberry field. Bog. Whatever. Let me tell you, this isn't like the cranberry bog on the ocean spray commercials either where the guy in waders is standing up to his knees in water with cranberries floating all around him, just waiting to be scooped up. This was a field of, well basically swamp. There were cranberries, but you have to find the patches. The water wasn't too deep, but you had to be careful because if you stood in one place too long, it would make movement difficult. You'd have to pull your feet out and risk the chance of loosing your balance.

But let me tell you what, bending over in a cranberry field with water over the ankles of your rubber boots focusing on nothing but the little red berries in front of you can make you think some pretty philosophical thoughts.

I decided it's kind of sad we don't do this sort of thing in the States. Because getting out into nature feels really good and it's an earthy feeling. I'm not sure how to describe it exactly, but gathering cranberries connects you to people, if that even makes sense. Even though the people I was with were spread across the field and we didn't talk while we gathered, I still felt connected. Connected to them, to the strangers along side us, who were engaged in the same activity we were and connected to people I've never known. Connected to Babushki who supplement their pensions by gathering berries and selling them, connected to people from past years and past times. Though my ancestors weren't Russian, there was a connection to them as well. A connection that something as basic as gathering berries creates. I thought about how important this activity was to past generations and how it's important to Russians now, though maybe for different reasons. It's connected to tradition, connected to survival. It was a good feeling.

I was quite philosophical about the whole thing for the first two and a half hours. After that, I was ready to go do something else (wander the woods anyone?) we actually didn't stay much longer than that as everyone was getting tired. So we tromped back through the woods and headed back to the city. I gave my cranberries away to friends as I didn't really know what to do with them, and customs wasn't going to let me bring them home in a preserved state, but it's alright because just having the experience and the connection was an experience in itself.

Strangers and Foreigners

I moved out of my little room today. I was going to be house sitting for the Joel's family while they were in the States but their daughter has been having seizures and so they cancelled. This event has changed plans and my life is a little bit uncertain right now, since I've moved, but am not sure where exactly I am going to be living for the next month. As I told friends and family on the phone last night, I'm not really worried about having a place to live. God has provided in the past, He's never left me in the cold (literally) so I know it'll work out. I'm just very concerned about Donna so I ask that you keep her and the family in your prayers as tests are being run and the doctors try to figure out how to help her.

In light of these events, I was thinking about the uncertainties of life, of being a gypsy and of what the Bible says about being foreign. I guess it all kind of connected in my head, but I apologize if it comes out sounding disjointed here.

The ten months I have been in St. Petersburg have been filled with uncertainties. I mean life has uncertainties anyway, but I feel like living here on my own has given me more uncertainties than most. While the place I lived was generally fine, there were times I didn't feel like I could completely relax. There were times, where I haven't known what I'm doing the next few hours let alone the next day. Russia has a tendency to change plans on you.

But you know, Jesus was the same way. In Luke 9:58, Jesus talks about how he has no place to rest his head. And talk about giving up everything. I mean, even if you don't believe Jesus was the Son of God, you've got to give the man credit. At 30 years old, he left the family carpentry shop and gave up his lifestyle to spend the next three years wandering around and proclaiming what he believed in. How many people today would actually do that?

Then you have Paul. This guy had it all. He was a Pharisee, well educated and then he has this experience on the road to Damascus and he gives up everything to spend the rest of his life spreading the news that the Messiah had come and being persecuted for it. I could go into detail here about Paul's sufferings but that's not really my point here.

If Jesus and Paul could learn to live by wandering, so can I. I'm not saying I'm anything compared to them. Not by any means, but what I am saying is they are examples to me and I feel like these ten months have led me to better understand what it's like to have no place to rest one's head. For ten months, I have been living in a state of limbo.

"Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers but fellow citizens with God's people and also members of his household" ~ Ephesians 2:19

You know, it's funny. Sometimes we read the scriptures so many times that they become rote. I was thinking about this scripture today and it's taken on a new meaning for me. Paul wrote this to the Gentiles. The people who even if they converted to Judaism, would never be completely Jewish. Think about how much hearing these words meant to a people who were excluded.

I have spent two years of my life as a foreigner. It is one of the most confusing feelings in the world. You live in a place that is not your own. A culture that is not yours. Oh sure, you can try to become one with the people of your adopted country, but you never will be. I've had moments where people say things like "You don't count as American, you're one of us." But then the next moment you turn around and it's like "Well, you wouldn't understand because you're foreign."

You are never completely at home living here, but when you go back to your "real culture" you don't feel completely comfortable there either. And I'm just saying this based on my limited experience. I'm sure people who've lived overseas longer could tell you a lot more about it.

My point is that I can understand this feeling. The feeling that people in your adopted country don't completely understand you and the feeling that the people back home don't completely understand you either. My point is that I can understand this feeling of a people looking for acceptance and finally finding it in Christ. I can understand the feeling of being a wanderer and finally coming to a place of security and rest. Praise God for that. 

Leavings and Comings

I've been thinking a lot lately. I mean, I think anyway, but in this case I'm talking about thinking in a philosophical sense. Maybe I should've used the word "Philosophizing..."

In any case, I've been having these thoughts. See, it's like any time you go overseas you get to this point where you're comfortable with where you are. The unordinary becomes ordinary. You're able to live, survive, continue. You're comfortable and content. There's also this point where you hit the "downhill" of living overseas. Because I have spent a year at a time living in Russia, these two events usually somewhat coincide.

Then you also have this point where you've been gone long enough that big events back home have occurred that might make it slightly strange to return. What's really fun is when this happens at the same time as the previously mentioned events.

The result is a kind of neurotic feeling. Okay, not quite.

Six months.

That's when everything has come together and started falling apart this trip. Six months to get used to the city. Six months to feel comfortable here. Six months for things back home to change. Six months and you're leaving. With six months to go all these thought were triggered by a phone call from my parents, telling me the preacher from my family's church and his family are moving. In July. I won't be home.

Suddenly a deluge of questions pours from you. "What's it going to be like when I go home? What about my life here? Who's going to do the things I'm doing? What about my friends here? What about my friends back home? I only have so much time left, how am I going to make the most of it? Should I come back? Should I do something else? It's going to be so strange back home. How are people going to view me? Will I feel alienated? Isolated? Alone? What about the reverse culture shock?"

And even though you've been through this before. Even though your brain tells you logically "Things change but some things don't. They won't understand but you'll survive. You'll figure out what you need to be doing. It will all work out, it always does." Your emotions get all twisted up and start sucking you into this strange, almost panicky black hole of void within yourself. So you keep yourself busy and decide not to think of it. Sometimes avoiding is the best way to deal with things.

A Lover's Quarrel

So as many of you know, since coming to Russia my relationship with God has completely changed. He's much more real to me now than in my previous 22 years of God experiences. Which is a good thing. Now, I don't know where you stand or how your relationship with Him is, but I increasingly see my relationship with God as that of a lover.

Now maybe that sounds a little weird. I know it feels a little weird to admit it. Maybe it's because of all of the connotations that go along with the word "lover" that makes it feel a little odd to define it in this sense. But that's how I see it. I think part of the reason I have this view of our relationship is that God fills a hole and a longing that I was previously trying to fill with the company of boys. So it makes sense.

Also, since God is infinite and omnipotent and so much higher and wiser than I, defining him like this is a way for my puny human self to put Him into a sort of concept that I can understand. So weird as it may sound, this relationship with God is kind of like dating someone. And this brings us to our parable.

Naturally when you date someone, you have ups and downs, times when you feel closer and times when you feel farther apart. Russia, as you may also have gathered, has been very much full of spiritual ups and downs for me.

Several weeks ago, I sort of got into a fight with God.

There were some things that I'd witnessed that didn't make sense to me. I was very upset about them and I didn't understand how God, in this infinite wisdom he supposedly possessed, could allow such things. The injustice of it filled me with anger and broke my heart. So, I told God off.

I then proceed to stomp off in fury and move on with life.  The days pass and I go through the motions like everything is fine. But deep down it's really not. A few days later, there's this nudge on my heart. As if my cell is ringing and the caller ID says "God." Good, maybe he's calling to apologize. But when I check the voicemail later (Because what girl is going to give her guy the time of day when she's angry at him?) he says "Hey, you were acting irrationally but it's okay. Why don't we go get dinner and spend some time together?" Well, he has some nerve! I think, and ignore it.

Thus it begins. Me ignoring him and every few days getting this little nudge being like "Hey, I'm still here and still waiting for you." But I'm stubborn and I continue on as I am.

And then suddenly, a few weeks have gone by and I realize that I feel dead inside. I've started to forget what it felt like to be loved that way. Things in my life start to fall apart. I try to handle everything by myself and realize that it was nice to have someone to share the load with. But all the same, it's become a matter of pride. And it gets to the point where, even though I know he was right, that I acted irrationally and that I should go back and apologize, I'm kind of afraid to call him back. So much time has passed at this point and what must he think of me?

So it's this place of total stagnation and then along comes a good friend of mine. You know, one of those friends who totally gets you and with whom you can discuss anything. So we have a figurative cup of coffee ('cause we're an ocean apart) and a chat. She shares her problems and I share mine and we realize we've been going through the same kind of thing. As we talk it through, I come to realize that I've been ridiculous. I shouldn't be afraid to call him back because this same infinite wisdom that God possesses is what makes him understanding. His ways aren't mine. He knows that. He knows I make stupid mistakes and suddenly, I realize it doesn't matter how much time has passed because He'll still take me back. I explain this to my friend and she totally gets it. I explain that it's not enough to call. I have to see him and I have to see him now. So I sprint out of the coffee shop, hop in the car and drive.

I'm crying by the time I get out of the car. Before I can knock or ring the bell, He opens the door and wraps me in a huge hug. I just cling to him, sobbing. "I'm so glad you've come home!" he whispers into my hair. The love in his voice makes me cry harder, but it's a good cry because suddenly everything's okay again.

Justice and Revenge

When I first came to Russia, I bought and read a book about a murder that happened in a church community several years back. The person accused of the murder got off with what seemed like a light penalty. After I finished the book, I decided to do a little research on the Internets to find out, as Paul Harvey would say, "The rest of the story," that is what has happened to the people since the trial.

I couldn't find out a lot about what happened once their fifteen minutes was up, but I did find out a lot about how the rest of the world felt about the accused and the penalty that was received.

Sometimes, I find reading the comments on news stories a lot more enlightening than the news story itself. In this day of blogs, and internet and globalization, everyone has an opinion on something. And they like to make those opinions known to the whole world. Which is fine in and of itself. There's nothing inherently wrong with it. But I'm not going to lie, there is a certain kind of comment I've started seeing on articles where people feel that "Justice" isn't being served, and truth be told it's kind of disturbing.

"She will answer for her sins,"

"He will get what he deserves"

"She played the system and walked freely...we all have our day in judgement"

"He's in Hell where he belongs"

"They'll get what's coming to them"

I mean, I'm not saying this isn't true. We all will have to face judgement and answer for what we've done( 2 Cor. 5:10) It's just the way that people state these facts like they already know the answers. Maybe that doesn't make sense. But it's almost like while they're saying "He or She will be judged" what they actually mean is "He or She will be judged, found guilty and sent to Hell to burn for all eternity"

When did we become such vengeful people? I mean, if you had a family member who was murdered or involved, I can understand that you'd be upset. People have a right to their feelings and I'm not trying to marginalize that. I mean, my goodness David, the man after God's own heart, often freely expressed his feelings of anger, loss, and revenge. And have you read the Psalms lately? Some of them are quite full of these sentiments. (Check out Psalm 94 for example)

But the difference is the Psalmists and David knew where they stood. A type of "God you are amazing and powerful and I want your justice to reign down on these terrible people. But I understand that you are God and have your own ways."

I think we can learn a lot from that.

Christ himself told us to love our enemies. (Matt. 5:43-48) I know, I know, easier said than done. Now this is gospel according to Abigail, but we're not talking "love your enemy" as in seeing Jim Bob at the church potluck and quickly running to the other side of the fellowship hall. Nor do I think he's saying we have to spend every waking moment with Jim Bob and become best buddies with him. Love takes work. Anyone who is in any kind of relationship (not necessarily romantic) knows that. You have to learn about the other party, you have to get to know them, and most importantly you have to see their faults and learn to live with and/or deal with them.

Again, I'm not trying to marginalize something like murder, rape, abuse etc. But what I'm saying is that loving our enemy means you have to let go, take a step back from how they've wronged you and see them as humans. As people. We are broken people in a broken world after all. That doesn't excuse what they've done or make it right. It can't change the past. But loving a person gives you the ability to forgive them and forgiving them gives you the ability to move forward.

Sins are not unforgivable and in the eyes of God, sin is sin. If you truly repent, God will forgive you. This covers everything from lying, drunkenness, sexual immorality, yes even something like rape. I know, maybe it's easy for me to sit here and say "love and forgive" with the safety of a computer screen in front of me, but I know that when I let things go, no matter what it is, when I strive to love God and love people, I am a happier person because of it.

There is a time for everything and perhaps it's time we leave the judging to God.

The Grass is Greener

So here's the irony about my trip to Kharkov to visit with the mission team there.

Before I left there were some things that, I wasn't really complaining about, but that I would've liked to be different in regards to the mission work I'm doing.

First off, there was a part of me that at times thought it would be a lot nicer to be working with a church plant rather than an established congregation. Why? Because I felt like there would be more for me to do, more ways to reach out, to get involved. Not that I don't do anything at Neva, but sometimes you don't feel like you're being effective or really doing anything.

Secondly, I thought it would be awesome if there was a team here. Or, rather, that I was part of a team. It would be so nice to have the support of a group of same-culture people who had shared experiences and could be there when I got down. In turn, I could help and support them. And we could all work together to help the church here.

So I went to Kharkov because I wanted to learn about the work the team was doing there and one of the biggest things I learned is that the grass is always greener. I mean, we knew this already, but it's interesting in the way it was reinforced. I think God was trying to tell me something because I had several conversations with people that specifically addressed these specific things.

I learned that being on a team has its own set of problems. Sometimes it can cause you to want to stay insulated with the people who are like-cultured. Sometimes it can keep you from interacting more with natives. And as with any family, sometimes you have to do things you'd rather not  in order to accommodate your teammates. It's a give and take.

One evening, I was talking with some different people about what they liked and didn't like about working in Kharkov. One person specifically said "Sometimes I wish we were working with an established congregation instead of a church plant. I think there'd be more for us to do" which again made me stop and think. The irony was not lost on me. And I think I even said something about how sometimes I wished the opposite.

I'm not saying people who go on teams or on church plants are wrong or should do it a different way. Nor am I saying the way I'm doing it is the best way either. What I'm saying is that the most important thing I learned is to be content. God put me here for a reason and he put the team in Kharkov for a reason and though there are times we all want things to be different, the bottom line is that there are advantages and disadvantages to every situation. So we need to take a step back and look at those things.

Besides, at the end of the day the most important thing is that God is glorified and people come to know him. After all, that is our ultimate goal. 

Touching God

I can't pinpoint one event. Maybe it's because I've been praying more. Maybe it's because I've been reading mass amounts of Bible every day. Or maybe it's just because. But I can tell you when it happened. Last night.

I've had a rough couple weeks. I've been sad, missing home, God felt far away. I got to the point where I was writing psalms asking God why he brought me here only to leave me. I daily questioned why I came and what I was doing. I figured if David could question God, so could I.

Last night I felt it. It wasn't like a thunderbolt realization from on high, but all of a sudden there was this deep sense of God's presence. I could feel him surrounding me, next to me like an actual person. A sense of fullness like I have never experienced before in my life. Words don't do it justice.

I weep from the beauty of it though. Because all my life I thought I'd given it up to God. All my life, I thought I had a good relationship with him. And in a sense, I did. But everything I ever thought I had pales in comparison to what I have now. It's like all my life I'd been satisfied eating vanilla ice cream and suddenly I learn there are other flavors. Once I've tried them, I never want to go back to plain old vanilla.

Suddenly these things I've been hearing my entire life make much more sense. "Taste and see that the Lord is good." I have truly tasted his richness. I truly understand what it means to say "He's everything I need." because he is. I feel warm and I feel safe. It's like he's permanently got his arms wrapped around me.

And now everything is a lot easier. It no longer matters if I miss people back home. If something were to happen and I would never hear from them again would I be sad? Yes. But it would be okay. Because of this richness. Because of this feeling, I have been able to deal with some things that I've needed to take care of for a while but hadn't truly given up to him. It no longer matters that I'm far away, if I'm not married, if I'm doing something different with my life. Because of his Spirit, I am able to face anything. It's no longer something I'm just reading about in the Bible. I'm part of it.

I never want to lose this feeling. I know, there are up and down parts of life. There are times when things come and go, but now that I've experienced it, I thirst... no... I ache for more. For that living water. Because if this relationship is like this now, imagine what it would be like in a few months or a few years.

I have briefly touched the presence of God. I have tasted heaven. If I had joy in him before, my joy is now tenfold. If I had peace in him, my peace is now a hundred fold. I would gladly go through this again; This loneliness, this wondering, a thousand times if it would mean that I would be able to remain like this, in the presence of God. Because that is all I truly want.

Who Are These People Anyway?

In the almost two months I've been here, I've found myself with what at school I called an "Urban Family" although here it's definitely more of a Family in Christ. In any case, it's a group of people with whom I have mutual love and support in absence of my own relatives. God has been gracious and blessed me with getting to know some awesome people so far in my time here. So I wanted to take a moment to explain who some of these people are and what they mean to me.

Joel, The Mentor
Joel is like the Obi Wan Kenobe of my apprenticeship. He's also a major player in the reason I'm here. I am extremely thankful that the day I talked to Dr. Green about the WorldWide Witness program he was about to go have coffee with Joel and that he mentioned my name. Joel has been working with the churches in Russia for something like 14 years. He knows tons about Russia and the history of the church here. Learning about this history and about being a full time missionary has been a great experience. It's been a blessing to be able to learn from him.

Luka, The Big Sister
Luka is the director of our choir as I've mentioned in several places. I would be completely lost without her. She is a woman who is on fire for God and is passionate about serving him through music. Not only that, but she's very giving of herself and her time. Without her, I wouldn't be living where I am now. I am so grateful that she took time out of her busy schedule to look at rooms with me. She has been a source of comfort when I'm missing home, lets me complain when I'm frustrated and has prayed with me often. Words cannot express how thankful I am that God has allowed me to get to know her. She is an example to me of how I, as a single woman, can serve God wholeheartedly.

Lena, The Mother
She would hate this label, but it's not like a mother mother, Maybe "Oldest Sister" is the best term to describe Lena. She and her husband, Brad, opened their home to me and I was blessed to be able to live with them for a week. During that time, I got to know Lena and I really look up to her. She always checks in to make sure I'm doing well and also to make sure I'm eating enough. She has done a ton to help me with my visa stuff and if I have any questions that I might not feel comfortable asking other people, I know I can ask her and she'll give me sound advice. Because her husband is American I feel like Lena understands better than most what it's like being a foreigner in Russia. It is very apparent that she and Brad love each other deeply and strive to be a Godly couple. Lena is a great example to me of how one can serve God as a Christian wife.

Natasha, The Good Friend
Natasha and I spend a lot of time together, partly because we both live here on Vasilevskii Island and because we're both young single women. Also because Natasha teaches English and I speak English. Natasha is a little hard to get to know, but it has been awesome getting to spend time with her. She keeps me grounded when I need it and always encourages me, reminding me that even if it doesn't feel like I'm doing anything here, the small stuff definitely counts for something and sometimes for more than the bigger stuff. I recently was blessed to get to visit her home for an afternoon and it was a great time. I am so thankful that God has put a friend like Natasha in my life.

Dima, The Big Brother
Dima is the Encyclopedia of Culture and the Master of All Aspects of Serving in the Church. He explains Russian culture to me and gives me an interesting perspective into how men in Russia think. He has been an endless source of general cultural help, word explanation and theological discussions that stretch my Russian skills to the limit. He also has me learning about all the different ways one can serve God. From answering letters from people who want to know more about the Bible, to helping count the offering money I'm learning about leadership and responsibility in the church in a way I never did back home. I am so thankful that because of Dima encouraging me to do these things, I am able to more effectively serve God.


There are of course other people in my Russian Family. It's interesting the way relationships are built and the ways you interact with people. For example, Yana, my little sister. She is fascinated by American culture and hopes to one day visit there. I love getting to not only help her practice English, but also listen to the stories about her daily life as a teenager. And then there are Sasha and Zhenya, sisters and young mothers. Through interacting with them and their babies, I've been learning about what it means to be a mother and to give of yourself to your family. That's a powerful lesson right there.

I could go on, for several more paragraphs, listing people I've met here and why I'm thankful for them. But I feel like this kind of gives you an idea. I know for me, just sitting down to write this blog post has given me an opportunity to reflect on my time here so far and really see how God has blessed this work. He truly is a powerful and almighty God!

Mission Epiphany

Question of the Day: Do one's spiritual gifts change depending on where you are and what you're doing? Maybe not your spiritual gifts per se, but maybe the way in which you use them?

So, I had an epiphany the other day.

Sometimes it's hard being here, because sometimes I don't feel like I'm using my skills. Or that I'm not doing anything. I know of missionaries out there planting churches and building houses and taking care of people's health needs. What do I do? I help people with English. I listen, I show up to events. I feel like I'm just here and not really doing anything worthwhile.

Then I volunteered to wash the floor of the zal this week. So after Search on Friday at about 10:30 I started the process. It was good to do some physical work that also gave me some time to think. So here's the question for you. So I'm mopping the floor, and thinking about how I must've paid more attention than I thought
when mom showed me how to do these things when I was younger, because I'm doing a decent job. Then, I started lamenting the fact that I'm here not doing any great things. You know, nothing like winning those heroic spiritual battles that you read about in the Bible. I'm not amassing thousands to the Lord, or doing miracles.

Then I thought about how my days don't always turn out exactly how I planned them. I suddenly realized two things. One, being a missionary is not a 9-5 job. I mean, maybe that seems obvious, but it feels more like it's a little bit here, a few things there, a couple hours doing this a couple hours doing that and not just sitting at a desk for 8 hours. I kind of like the flexibility but at other times it can be a pain. There are some times I have to be "on" when I'd rather be "off".

I also realized that it's not really about fighting giants, or gathering thousands to the Lord. I feel like in God's kingdom it's not about numbers or projects. Sometimes we get caught up in that. It's about building relationships and doing what you can. Most importantly it's about being willing to serve with your whole heart. Sometimes I feel like the widow who gave her two coins to the poor. It was a heart issue. She had nothing, but she wanted to give and serve the Lord with everything. My job is to have that kind of attitude and do what I can.

So what is my job? It's rather abstract, but my job is to be here. I know it sounds strange. My job is to go speak to an 8th grade English class, to help watch a baby so her parents can have time together, to jump in and fake a bible class lesson for pre-teens, to listen to women who need to talk, to pray, to help people study English, to mop the floor at 11pm on a Friday night to participate, to encourage, and most importantly to love. It's not about me. It's not my job to personally save the world. Someone else already did that and boy am I ever glad he did.

I was talking to my friend Natasha about this Sunday evening. She agreed, that it's all about the small things and told me that I came at just the right time. She also said something that really stuck with me. She told me she didn't want me to leave after this year and be like "Oh yeah, I was in Russia" and have life go on. She's right. I already feel this way.

I already feel like it would be wrong to just continue my life the way it was, this is different than exchange. I have family here, friends, mentors, brothers, sisters. Just like I can't come here and completely forget about my family, friends, mentors, brothers and sisters back home, I can't go home and just forget about the people here. I need to take what I learn and discover here, and apply it to serving God back home. I need to pray and discover where God wants me and how he wants to work in my life. Then, I need to take my skills and my spiritual gifts and wholeheartedly serve him.

My Testimony -- Russian

Я написала мое свидетельство, чтобы рассказать людям о том что Бог сделел для меня, и что он мой спаситель. Я его написала и на русском языке и на английском языке. Это русская версия. English Version

Я выросла в церкви. Мои родители верующие, и бабушка, и дедушка тоже. Я крестилась 13 августа 2000 г. Я верила в Бога и хотела жить с ним на небесах после смерти. Все было хорошо, а потом, когда мне стало 17 лет, я начала задавать себе вопросы о том, во что я верила.

Я сидела на собрании каждое воскресенье, слушая проповедника. Он говорил о том, как стать христианином. Я видела, какими были братья и сестры, и по-моему они были христианами только по воскресеньям. Я была разочарована Я продолжала ходить каждое воскресенье в церковь, но только из-за того, что мы так делали в своей семье.

После окончания школы я стала студенткой по обмену. Я поехала в Россию, где жила один год. В первой половине поездки я мало думала о Боге и о церкви. Я все еще верила в Бога, но думала о нем только когда ездила на природу. Хотя я почти все бросила, у Бога были другие планы.

Я люблю читать, и когда я собиралась поехать в Россию, то взяла с собой несколько книг на английском языке. Но через пять месяцев я уже все их прочитала, кроме одной книги. Библия осталась. Я сильно хотела читать по-английски, поэтому начала читать Библию. Всю жизнь я слышала свяшенное писание в церкви, но первый раз читала его сама. Я большему научилась, когда сама читала, чем когда сидела в церкви каждое воскресенье во время Богослужения.

Бог многому научил меня через этот опыт, но самое важное он научил меня скромности. Я думала, что была лучше, чем другие христиане, потому что считала, что все делала правильно. Мой грех – гордость. Бог научил меня, что не мое дело судить сердца других людей. Мне нужно быть уверенной, что все в порядке в моей духовной жизни. Мне обязательно нужно рассказывать другим о том, что Бог сделал для меня, а он сам будет судить, что у них на сердце.

Я об этом расказывала, потому что, у всех есть страдания и духовные крисизы даже, когда человек вырастил в церкви, но слава Богу у нас никогда не будут слишком много испытания. Наш Отец всегда верный, и он нам помогает.

My Testimony -- English

This is long overdue. One of the things Joel had me do in preparation for coming here was write out my testimony. So I did in English. Then, I got to translate it into Russian so Dima could send it to people interested in the Bible school and so I can tell it to people. Below is the English version of the text. Русская Версия

I grew up in the church. Sometimes I think that's more difficult than becoming a Christian as an adult. When you come in as an adult, you make the decision to believe and be baptized and you are committed to making that change. When you grow up in the church I think sometimes things aren't always so clear or firm.

I committed my life to Christ when I was 11 years old. I believed in God and I wanted to make sure that I would spend eternity with him. So I was baptized and began my Christian walk. Things went pretty well until high school and then I started questioning. As I got more into reading the Bible and better understanding of what Christianity is, I started to become disenchanted with it. I was reading what a Christian should be Biblically and looking around my church, suddenly realizing that the two didn't match up. I started to feel really down. Here I was, wanting to live out the faith and I felt like I was surrounded by hypocrites who showed up on Sunday morning because that's what good people do. By the time I was ready to graduate, I no longer cared. Force of habit and my parents' expectations were what kept me going to services.

I went to Russia as an exchange student right after high school. The first half of my trip I didn't really attempt to find a place to worship. I thought about God in the context of things I was seeing and doing, but most of it was brief and in passing. But God was working on me.

After I had been there about five months, something interesting happened. You see, I love to read and about this time, I ran out of things to read in English. The only thing I had left was my Bible. So I opened it at random one day and the next thing I knew, I was devouring the word. Reading for myself, I learned things that I never learned just sitting in worship every Sunday. I suddenly realized that I really missed being with other believers and so I made an effort to find a place where I could worship.

God worked on me and made me realize that it isn't my place to judge the hearts of men. It's his job. My job is to make sure that I''m right with him and that those around me can see the light of Christ within me. My journey since then has been filled with highs and lows. I am after all human. But God is always faithful to me and because of the sacrifice of his son, I can live with hope.

What I've Learned About Myself the Past Week or So...

I'm officially leaving October 6th.

This has led to kind of a crunch time for me.

Which in turn has led me to discover some things...

I work best under pressure. Okay, not really pressure because I get really stressed. But I've discovered that I need to have firm deadlines if I ever hope to accomplish anything. In college for example, I knew when things were due all the time so I could start them ahead, work on them in increments and get them done. When I don't have firm deadlines for myself, I'm not working on things consistently and therefore nothing gets done.

I like to be organized. I'm not one of those obsessive-compulsive people where everything has to be perfectly neat. I get piles of stuff lying around and such. I tell people I'm not messy, my form of organization is just different. But actually, I've learned that there is this toleration point where I can't stand things being messy and so I have to clean before I can sit down and work.

Lists = Good. Sometimes I get overwhelmed. Therefore I am better if I sit down and write out a list. Sometimes it's a list of everything I want/need to accomplish that day and sometimes it's a list of what I have to do and when it has to be done. In either case, it gives me a tangible visible way to break everything down and I feel a sense of accomplishment when I cross things off.

I am more left-brained than I'd like to admit. I take pride in my right-brainedness and non-analyticalness. But honestly, the whole making lists thing is totally left-brained. I remember that question being on those little personality test things (that was before I started making lists). And honestly, being a little left-brained helps me get stuff done. So it's actually a blessing in disguise.

Being a missionary and being human are not mutually exclusive. I know, this seems kind of dumb, but I'm discovering something about being a church worker. There's pressure there. I mean, my goodness, people have paid good money to support me on this trip. They put a lot of faith and trust in me. It's quite a burden. Especially since we're dealing with spiritual matters. It's kind of terrifying. You sit there thinking "Oh my goodness, I don't want to mess this up!" But at the same time, it does get messed up. So here I am with a dilemma. I want to be as perfect as possible because I have an image to uphold, but at the same time I do a really good job of royally messing everything up. So the last couple of days I've thought about it and decided "This isn't going to work and so we're just going to forget it." Not that I'm not trying. We should always try to be more Christ-like. That is our goal as Christians after all. But the idea is that I try to grow in the faith and do my best and God's grace will cover the rest. It's hard for me to let go like that not even going to pretend and say it is. Because there's a part of me that's like "I've done some really dumb things and made some really bad mistakes in my life. How will grace ever cover what I've done?"

It's like the preacher at the congregation I visited yesterday said. "He will take you back. Do we deserve it? No. But it's okay because He loves us anyway and he will take us back. " That's encouraging to me.

Anytime you work in the church, there is a standard people hold you too. The key is understanding within yourself that the standard is man-made and you're no better than anyone else. Once you realize this, you can let it go and more effectively live life for Him.

God Wants Me in Russia

So, In order to make this trip, I had to raise about $18,000. Which sounds like a lot of money but if you think about the fact that it's what I'm living on for a year, it really isn't that much.

I'm not going to lie, I was terrified to start fundraising. As I've probably mentioned before, fundraising is something that every beginning missionary dreads doing. Who really wants to go around asking people for money? That's just awkward.

Anyway, I had managed to raise about $10,000. Which is pretty good. How did I do it? Well, mostly I just sent packets out to individuals explaining what I was going to be doing the next year. There was one congregation who took up a collection for me and who are also supporting me monthly. Most everything else was one-time gifts.

Now, my fundraising kind of hit a stand-still. I was hovering about that ten thousand mark and it seemed like the gifts had pretty much tapered off. Oh dear. Because there is no way I could go to Russia and be able to stay the year on $10,000. So what did I do? I sat down and figured out that if 8 individuals or congregations would pledge to support me $90 a month, I would reach my goal. I also figured out that if I had five people willing to pledge that, I would be able to make it through the year. So my goal became "five pledges but ideally, I need 8" So I prayed about it and got ready to call churches and beg for money.

But a funny thing happened. Wednesday night, I was at church and I asked for fundraising prayers. I explained what I needed and several people asked questions. The next thing I knew, one woman had said that she would be willing to pledge 90 a month. I was so excited. But then it got even better. Thursday someone else said they would pledge and Friday a family who knows me said they would support monthly as a birthday present. I prayed and waited and within three days I had three pledges. But it gets better.

The teen group I spoke to back in June was inspired by what I had to say. They decided that they wanted to kind of adopt me and help support me. So they started collecting money and they also decided to hold a comedy night fundraiser with donations going towards my trip. I had also heard that the elders at their congregation were going to match whatever they raised.

I thought about it and started praying "God, I could really use $500..." But then I stopped and thought. I mean I assumed that $500 was about what they all could do. Yet, ask and you shall receive right? Besides, I've been studying about the power of faith lately and thought this was potentially a good way to test it. So I changed my prayer. "Actually God, what I really need is $1000. It would make it so much easier if I could get $1000 from this fundraiser." After praying about it, I didn't worry about it. I figured God would make it happen.

Saturday night we went to the comedy show and had a great time! The teens did a good job and it was just and all around great evening. At the beginning of the night, one gentleman stood up and talked a little bit about my trip and what the teens had been doing to raise money for me. For example, when they went out to eat they would order water instead of pop and then take the money they would've spent on the drink and put it towards my trip. Cool things like that. Anyway, so they were talking about my trip and this man goes "They asked the leadership to match what they raise. Unfortunately, we can't write a blank check but we will match a thousand dollars." Bam! Right there, five minutes in, my prayer was answered. I was getting at least a thousand dollars from the church. Plus whatever the teens raised on top of it. Grand total I was expecting $1,500. God wasn't done yet.

Sunday evening I was visiting another congregation. After church, I got a text message from my dad. He informed me that the unofficial count from the fundraiser and teens was in. The church was giving me $1,000 and the teens managed to raise another $1,500. Grand total I'm getting about $2,500 from them. I was blown away.

When I started this post, I was going to go on and talk about how God must want me in Russia because he's brought me the money with minimal effort on my part. Maybe it sounds trite but the most work I've done specifically towards fundraising was send out those packets. Other than that all I've done is talk about it and express need. God has done an amazing job working out, not only the money but potential issues with getting into and staying in Russia as well. I am extremely blessed!

And speaking of blessings, I was thinking as I was typing this about the effort the teens put forth. I mean, they set their minds to helping me and were committed to it and look where they ended up. It's amazing! Not only that but look at the way God blesses us. I gave up time to speak to the teens. I didn't think it was a big deal but through what I said they were touched and blessed. In return, they have blessed me as well. I don't think they realize just how much having that $2,500 means to me. It's the difference between going and staying. This is the way it's supposed to work. We each give, each throw our hearts into blessing others and the blessings will come back tenfold.

My Banner is Clear

I've been haunted by things from the past of late. If you're Facebook friends with me, you may have seen that I discovered some pictures from my exchange year that I'd forgotten about. Which is cool. Good memories and everything.

I've been doing a lot of cleaning and organizing in preparation for my journey and today I discovered the Bible that I carried with me in High School. I need to take a moment to explain how I feel about Bibles. I am a huge fan of marking them up. *Gasp!* I know, right? But it's a place to keep thoughts, feelings, ideas etc about scripture and/or lessons and sermons I've heard. Hence the reason my current Bible has a journal in the margins. Perfect for notes :)

Anyway, so the Bible I carried in High School was a teen study Bible and it's pretty beat up. Not only that but some of the notes are rather interesting. The most interesting feature, however, is how I decorated the inside covers. There are notes about communion bread making, numbers for my favorite songs from our song book, the word "Believer" written in Russian and something else written in Hebrew, song lyrics and a host of other things. On the inside of the front cover is something I'd completely forgotten about.

My cousin is a preacher and when he was first doing a sermon or communion speech for us, he shared a little... I don't know it's not really a poem, with us. I copied it in to the front of my Bible because it spoke to me. I couldn't remember where it came from so I did a little research. Apparently it was written by a pastor in Africa who was martyred. I hope it brings you as much encouragement as it did me.

I am part of the fellowship of the unashamed. I have Holy Spirit Power. The die has been cast. I've stepped over the line, the decision has been made. I am a disciple of Jesus Christ!

I won't look back, let up, slow down, back away or be still. My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, my future is clear. I am finished with low-living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tame visions, worldly walking, cheap talking and dwarfed goals.

My face is set, my goal is fast, my goal is Heaven. My road is narrow, my way is rough, my companions are few, my Guide is reliable, my mission is clear. I won't give up, shut up, let up until I've stayed up, stored up and prayed for the cause of Christ.

I must go til he comes, give til it hurts, preach til everyone knows and work til he stops me. and when he comes to claim his own, he'll have no problem recognizing me. My banner will be clear!

My Mother Was Right...

As much as I hate to admit it, it's true. For those of you who read this blog for the express purpose of hearing about my journey to Russia, we're going to digress a little bit today. Okay, a lot.

Anyway, growing up I was pretty much a tomboy, let's just make that clear. I preferred to be outside, didn't like to dress up and so on and so forth. I would tell my mom that I was going to stay single forever and never have kids. Instead, I wanted to be an accomplished career woman living in a little apartment in the Big City with a dog. Mom was very good. She never quashed my dreams but she always told me that it was good to keep my options open because some day I might change my mind.

Well friends, some day is today.

Okay well not literally today. But it's here. Staring me in the face.

Yes, that's right. I'm succumbing to Womanhood! *Gasp* NOOOOO!

So in recent months. Namely since May, I've discovered something interesting. I like running a household. I know, right? Me. I find myself feeling very fulfilled when I spend afternoons alternately working on Russia stuff and doing dishes and laundry. And the days I feel really special and important? The days that mom works late and it's my job to make dinner for Dad and my Brother. Oh yes... Suddenly, I find myself thinking "You know, it would be really nice to be married and have a family," Yes, that's right. I think it.

If you know me, you also know my aversion to children, or rather Children's aversion to me. I mean, I like kids and all but I've never been one of those "Let me fawn all over your children" kind of people. Kids tolerate me and I like them in small doses. So it's kind of a shocker for me when I'm sitting at the park alternately having devo time and watching the families and thinking "If those were my kids I would..." Yeah. That's right. I've started having maternal moments. It's rather terrifying actually.

Plus, I've become more sentimental in my old age.
I cry during chick flicks
I cry during disney movies
I cry during Conan the Barbarian (Okay that was because of the terrible scripting)
I cry when I read novels
I cry when I think about this summer
I cry when I hold babies

I feel like I could just go to Africa and supply all those well-less villages with water. We could just desalinate it and we'd be good to go.

All joking aside though, it's kind of weird for me to discover this. I mean I've always liked helping people. But this is different. My boyfriend stops by after work and I'm like "Let me feed you and take care of you!" (At least I don't have to walk him) or with my brother today. I informed him that I was making tacos tonight and he goes "Oh goody! I'll come home for dinner then." which made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

Basically, this terribly independent, liberated, no nonsense woman, famed for the fact that she "Don't need no man to buy/make/help/do..." has discovered that she kind of enjoys taking care of the men in her life.

Hats off to you, Momma.

A Petulant Child

It's been an interesting few weeks. I'm not even sure where to begin.

I went through this phase of avoidance for a while. I don't know why I do this sort of thing. But I hate change and so often I will do things to avoid it. Namely by not thinking about it. Which is never good. There were times the last couple of weeks where I did a lot of thinking; wondering why I even want to go to Russia. I mean it would be so much easier to just stay here. But then I suppose that would be a waste of everything I've been preparing for.

I feel like the last couple of weeks I've been kind of like a petulant child. I was thinking about how I've made some decisions recently without really consulting God. Or, consulting God and then doing exactly what I wanted anyway. I imagined myself like a little kid stamping her foot and going "But I want this!"

It's kind of ironic that I had this image of myself because on Sunday the preacher talked about this exact thing. I feel like some of the sermons I've heard of late have directly related to me. Parts of them have really spoken to me, or related to things I've been thinking about.

It's also odd, the way that things can refocus you. I was kind of just going through the flow in a haze of uncertainty and avoidance and then I had a chat with one of my best friends. Katya and I have been friends and roommates and we can talk about just about anything. She came by my house the other day for a visit and we sat and talked for over and hour. Honestly, I can't pinpoint that there was anything exactly that she said or I said that refocused me. It was just the whole conversation. Maybe it's because we go from talking about ridiculous things like boys and scrabble and then in the next sentence talk about deeper things such as mission work, worship and where God is leading us.

In any case, it was an afternoon well spent and I came out of it going "Oh. I'm kind of dumb." I realized that some things in life are more important than others and I had been focusing on the wrong things. Again.

As our preacher put it on Sunday, God has everything worked out. He knows what's best for us. But sometimes we try to take the reins. We think we know exactly what we want and need and instead of focusing on God and trusting him to work it out, we go off on our own. I can just imagine God shaking his head as I go my own way and waiting patiently for me to come back to him. I am so grateful that he does wait patiently!

On Grace

So I heard a sermon recently about grace.

Do you ever have one of those times where people tell you something over and over and you're like "yeah, okay" but it doesn't really affect you. Then one day someone says the exact same thing you've been hearing, but said in a way that all of a sudden it hits you and you're like "oh! WOW!"
Yeah, this sermon was like that.

I'm not going to lie, there have been things in my life recently that have been getting me down. Really down. Stupid things I've done, mistakes I've made. I just keep thinking that this is not a good thing. I'm a sinner. So I search the scriptures, trying to find a way to make it right with God. People kept telling me "Just give it up to God, let it go." But I wanted to make it right some how. I thought that there had to be something, somewhere that would tell me how to make it right. Then I heard the sermon.

It was like hitting a brick wall. The proverbial light bulb went off over my head. Because the preacher talked about how the law was never possible to follow perfectly and the law won't save us. There is a point where we have to just let it go and give it up to God. It's his grace that covers us, that saves us, that continually brings us back to him. My job is to ask for forgiveness, change my life and let God take care of the rest. If I pursue God whole-heartedly, he will bless me and cause growth in my life.

I'm sure there are some of you out there, who are like "Well, duh, Abigail. You're a little slow on that train." Maybe I am. But it's nice to have a reminder once in a while. Let me tell you what, after hearing that sermon, I could feel the things I'd been carrying around for weeks and months just slip away. It was like the feeling I had when I was first baptized and I came out of the water feeling clean and new. It was a good feeling.

Relief

Let me just take a moment and tell you how awesome God is.
I just came off of spring break. Well, it was sort of a break but I did do a ton of homework and such while at home, because, well, there's a lot of it to do. By the end of my time at home, I'd gotten through some things and worked really hard at it, but there were still some things that needed to be done.

Friday for example, I went to bed thinking "Okay, I have this ten page paper that's due Tuesday and I have no topic and not a lot of research. Plus I have a Psych test on the same day that I haven't studied for yet and..." The list went on, full of things I had to do my first few days back or shortly thereafter. Even though there were only six weeks of school left, I had no idea how I was going to get through them. I thought to myself "If only the paper were due Thursday, then I would have time to do it." Then I thought to myself "Well, with God all things are possible and he'll get me through the next six weeks." I feel asleep.

When I woke up on Saturday morning, I checked my e-mail. The professor of the class where I had to write the paper informed us that she was moving the due date to Thursday. I was happy. "Good," I thought. "Now I'll be able to get this stuff done." Yet life can be tricky. I didn't get as much done as I hoped and I was super stressed. I was really upset when my parents brought me back to school Sunday night. How am I ever going to get this stuff done? I just kept telling myself that it would work out somehow, I had no idea how. But it would.

Sunday afternoon, I worked on research for my paper, and I kind of forgot that I had that Psych test on Tuesday. It's okay I can always study tomorrow. Monday, one thing lead to another and it was 11 p.m. before I was able to even open my notes and look at them. Fail. I prayed. "Dear Lord just please get me through this test tomorrow. Please. Have mercy on me because I didn't study. Help me."

When I got the test on Tuesday, I started to panic looking at the multiple choice questions. I prayed again, flipped the test to the back and started with the short answer. After answering a few questions there and mentally chanting a prayer "Lord, Help me! Help me! Help me!" My brain seemed to unlock and I was able to at least complete the test. After I made it through, I decided that my Tuesday afternoon would be dedicated to finishing stuff for my online class that's due Thursday and then I would spend Wednesday afternoon writing my paper. It was a great idea, except my professors had other plans.

My translation professor gave us a huge translation due Thursday, plus a final draft of another translation also due Thursday. So now I had an entire unit to do for my online class, two translations to work on and a ten-page paper, all due Thursday. So last night, I spent hours working on the online class. I managed to even beast the test which made me happy.

This brings us to this afternoon. I get back from class and I'm like "Okay, I'm going to do the translation first because it won't take as long, and then I'll do as much as I can on the paper. If worse comes to worse, I'll e-mail her and ask for an extension through the weekend, because once I get through the week, I'll have time to do it." So I sit down at the computer. Before getting started, I decide to check my e-mail because the Prof in the class where the paper's due said she would send us some information. There was no e-mail from her, but my psych prof sent one saying she had posted the grades. I went and checked mine and immediately began giggling hysterically. My roommate asked what was going on. "Would you believe it? I got a 90! I did better on this exam than my last exam!" God is awesome. And before you go saying "Yeah, right you prayed and he gave you an A." Let me just explain a little more because it gets better.

So I was trying to decide if I wanted to e-mail the other prof about a paper extension now, or wait and see how much I got done. I decided to look at my e-mail again and keep it pulled up in case she did e-mail. To my surprise when I reloaded the page, there was a note from her. It's subject "Paper Extension." My breath caught as I opened it.

"Dear Students, I was having trouble uploading some things so I will try it again tonight. In the meantime, I'm extending your paper due date to Tuesday, April 5th."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! <----- That's what I did. My roommate goes "Are you okay?" I replied that I wasn't sure whether I wanted to laugh or cry. She gave me a funny look and went to class. Turns out I did both. I laughed and then I hit the floor literally crying in relief. Whereas before all I could do was say "Lord have mercy, help me" over and over now all I could say is "Thank you!"

Maybe it's a coincidence. It's possible I suppose. I don't know what it was about the situation. I mean, I kept telling myself it would work out. I don't know that I felt like I had complete trust that it would, but deep down I think I knew that this was fleeting. Maybe it has nothing to do with prayer and everything to do with people. It's possible. But let me explain that in my time here I don't think I've ever had a paper due date moved before. If I have it's only been once. Never twice. I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it, but doggone it I was going to try and I was determined to make it through this week. Now I know I'm going to.

The first thing I thought of when I got up was the parable Jesus tells Simon Peter in Luke 7. Jesus talks about two men who are in debt. One owes fifty denarii and one five hundred. The man whom they are indebted to cancels both debts. Jesus' then asks "Which will love him more?" and Peter answers the one who had the greater debt. I feel like I understand that man in debt a little better now.