​I loved the friendship in her studio. The way that I listened to her story unfold - the weaving in and out of themes - as she strung together the needle and thread stitchwork on her project. The way we weaved through laughter and tears and the deepest desires of the heart. ​

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​I loved the idea of her studio. The way the whole room represents her perseverance and grit over the past year as she chased her dream of becoming an artist and finding leatherwork, though she had absolutely no experience before. And just one year later her Christmas orders are backlogged so far that her multi-colored hands give testament to her dedication to her craft. ​​

​I loved how watching her work brought me back to my Creator. Her mantra that she was created to create. The way her hands delicately knit together something so intricately beautiful out of something dead and useless, the same way our Merciful Potter molds the clay into a vessel worthy of being poured into. And worthy of pouring out into others. I'm grateful she has poured into me. 

​In his book-turned-movie Tortured for Christ, Richard Wurmbrand said he wasn't angry with his Russian Communist torturers for the same reason he wasn't mad at rabid dogs for doing what is only natural to them. The communists are sinners given over completely to the lustful and wicked cravings of their hearts in an atheistic system that glorified them to be that way. They are people who do - in fact - have the moral law written on their hearts because of them being made in the image of God. They are without excuse for their horrible deeds. Yet even in that, Wurmbrand recognized that they were the real Walking Dead, living only as the sinners they know how. And living as the products of being shaped by a system and told lies for years in their atheistic government. 

In our last newsletter Derek said that we were praying that God would re-open the door with Alexa, our Roma friend who cleaned for us. The truth? Derek may have been praying for that, but meanwhile I had been quite content that no Roma people had been ringing our doorbell recently. In fact not even many of our neighbors have been ringing our bell much since we returned home. I can submit to God if He brings people again, I suppose. But I can’t really bring myself to PRAY for them to return. I idolize my comfort and control of my schedule far too much to pray for those things to be challenged.