October heralded its arrival with a gentle fall of snow flurries and temperatures of 35°F, while November determined to be a bit warmer with occasional temperatures of 45°F and rainy, overcast skies.  I do not know which is more confused: the weather or me. Equally confusing is this comparison: Inside my apartment, the heating system keeps the rooms warm, resulting in bare feet and short sleeves. Once I step outside my apartment door, however, I find myself bundled in a sweater, scarf, warm coat, thick socks, and boots. How can it be that I traverse from spring-like temperatures to near-Arctic frigidity in the space of a single step in crossing an apartment’s threshold? Confusion, indeed.

But then, living abroad is, in many respects, a lesson in confusion mingled with hilarity and adaptation. Since arriving in Moscow two months ago, I have encountered many confusing situations that leave me scratching my head and quirking an eyebrow in question or surprise. The most interesting example of this happened about two weeks ago while a group of us were gathered at a friend’s house. Before that day, I had never seen a parent bundle his or her infant in insulated clothing and then place said infant in a warm cradle out on the enclosed balcony in the cold. I watched in surprise. Yet I have seen this done twice now. Apparently, this is a very common practice here. (The logic is sound, I promise you, and as explained to me, is no different from taking the child out for a walk in the park for ten minutes.) We learn new things every day.

Experiences such as this transform a life spent abroad into one of perpetual discovery. Most days are grounded in routine, but something new can always be found. Birthdays, for example, are a grand occasion here. When an individual celebrates a birthday, he gathers his friends together for an evening spent over good food and cakes. Drinks are toasted over a table laden with excellent cuisine, while gifts are presented one at a time with a small speech given by the gift-giver wishing the friend good health and wealth. Minutes become hours spent together celebrating, culminating in full stomachs, good conversation, and the warm scent of tea filling a room. When friends slowly make their way out the door, they wear a smile as they bestow hugs and kisses upon everyone, call out “Da svidanya,” and head for the elevator.

If I have learned anything from living in Russia, it is the value of friendship, for which these grand birthday celebrations are an example. Because the city is so large, traveling between places becomes a major hurdle that takes a lot of time out of your day. As such, scheduling time with friends becomes difficult since everyone has different work schedules and can easily live on opposite ends of the city with long distances in between. You have to be in constant contact with them via Facebook, phone calls, or texting to stay connected. If not, then a month can easily disappear without having once seen or heard from someone in your friendship circle. In Virginia, friendships are easier to maintain and, quite often, taken for granted because they seem to happen naturally. We get so accustomed to seeing our friends on the street, in church, or at the local Wal*Mart that we often don’t feel the need to put any extra effort into our friendships. I know I am guilty of this. In Moscow, however, each friendship takes effort, energy, and a lot of time, which makes those birthday gatherings so special. We must learn to value the friendships the Lord has given us, a lesson that Moscow is now teaching me.

In addition to friendship, I have had to learn the value of patience. For those who know me well, patience is not one of my strong suits, yet I am in need of it at all times here. In the classroom, in the school halls, in the grocery store, on the metro, I need patience. When my English student interrupts me for the third time by speaking to his friend in Russian, I need patience. When I am asked “When is PE?” for the fifth time in ten minutes, I desperately need patience. I cannot get by without this valuable fruit of the spirit. Every day I must eat from it and learn to swallow it in the most frustrating of circumstances.

Despite their inclination to instill their American teacher with patience, my students are quite wonderful. They are a lively bunch from across the globe, including Brazil, Egypt, and South Korea. Since the school is bilingual in its program, the students are in and out of the learning center all day as they balance the American ACE program with extracurricular activities and, for half of my students, a Russian educational program as well. This causes hectic school days, but once a person acclimates to the schedule, it starts to make some sense. It took me about a month before I could say I understood what was actually happening, but now it is perfectly normal.

In addition to working as a monitor at the school, I also teach English classes after school on Mondays and Thursdays and tutor an eleven-year-old boy on Tuesdays and Saturdays by using the ACE program in his home. In my English classes, I have five students: four boys and a girl. They are a curious group. I am struggling to keep them motivated, so I have been brainstorming different angles and approaches that can be used in the classroom. I have an hour and half with them for each lesson with a five minute break in the middle, so it’s easy to understand why they get a bit talkative and fidgety. They are a good group of kids nonetheless. I simply have to discover the best way to reach them in the classroom. As for the boy I tutor, he is fantastic to work with. He’s quite intelligent, well spoken in English, and diverse in his interests. My first lesson with him ended with him showing off his LEGO creations, including an excellent replica of the Millennium Falcon from Star Wars, which naturally won him kudos with me. I enjoy working with him, so giving up my Saturday mornings isn’t such a chore.

Aside from the academic world, my life has settled down into something resembling familiarity. I have acclimated to the different culture and surroundings, and I can now get around fairly well on my own. I am a professional in manipulating the metro system, though I have not yet attempted the buses or trams. That’s next on my agenda. I can also go grocery shopping on my own, which makes eating a lot easier. When I still required a friend to go with me, I did not often go to the grocery store when I needed to, resulting in many skipped dinners and vegetable sandwiches. I managed it somehow, and now I am quite independent in the areas that matter.

My new American roommate, Kris, has been furthering my independence. She isn’t afraid to do something new or go off on her own, so even though she has only been here for two weeks, I often find myself following her around to all of these great stores in our area I didn’t even know existed. It’s been great exploring with her. It’s equally nice to have someone in the apartment I can easily talk to. I enjoy going into the kitchen to make dinner, only to have Kris walk in, pull up a chair, and settle in for a good conversation.  I look forward to living next door to her for the upcoming year.

The Lord has certainly been good to me these last two months. I had a very rough time of it at the beginning, but the last month has been steadily growing better and easier. Great friends, both old and new, surround me; I have great coworkers and students at the school; I have found a church I enjoy attending; and my apartment is now comfortable and enjoyable to be in.

While sitting across from a good friend tonight in a cozy café, I could not help but feel content. Nadia and I had just explored an amazing bookstore, in which I will easily lose myself in future, and had settled in to have a good dinner. The weather outside the windows was overcast and dark, but in our minds we could still see the gorgeous sunset in shades of pink and orange we had glimpsed exiting the bookshop two hours earlier. The aroma of coffee and the gentle sound of conversations settled around us, a cocoon of friendly warmth in the midst of a busting city. We laughed together as Nadia attempted to teach me some Russian words, many of which included the rolling “r” that I cannot properly say without sounding like a pigeon or, as Nadia told me, her cat. At times such as that, I know my God is looking down at me, thinking, “I told you it would all be okay. See how I provide?” And You do, Lord. You certainly do.

Mornings such as this serve as needed reminders of how great a God we serve. I find myself sitting at my desk with the enclosed balcony door to my bedroom thrown open to allow the sounds of city life and its inherent energy to enter upon my morning. With a cup of fresh Starbucks coffee resting close at hand, I opened my devotional book and Bible to read. As I did so, observations made throughout these last eleven days fell into place like obscured puzzle pieces, and I realized just how great a plan the Lord has for me, for everyone.

*

The year was 2009. A student on the brink of beginning her final year at university, I stepped onto Russian soil for the first time with a smile and confidence buoyed by youthful excitement. I had dreamt of coming to Russia since I was in the fourth grade after having seen the animated film Anastasia and reading anything I could get my hands on about the Romanov family. Naturally, my fascination for the country and its culture had since developed from its youthful impressions of princesses and snow-blanketed palaces, but the desire to explore and witness Russia firsthand had never left me.

My father and I had come to work with friends at a conversational English camp for two weeks with an additional week of sightseeing in both Moscow and St. Petersburg thrown in for good measure. I could not wait to dive in, make new friends, and finally discover one of the countries I had set my heart on years ago.

Our friends lived in an apartment beyond the city center of Moscow. When not living at the camp miles outside of the city, this is where we stayed. We walked between the apartment and its nearest metro station every day that we were there, thus familiarizing me with the area fairly well. I learned to recognize buildings and which direction I must take to reach the metro. I could recognize the name of our metro stop even though I could not read Cyrillic or pronounce it properly. Most importantly, I learned that even though I could not speak the language, I could figure out where I was by sight alone.

When I returned the following summer for a second time, I remembered the neighbourhood. I could still recall the way to the metro station from the apartment building, but this time, my mental map expanded. I saw new buildings in the area that I had previously overlooked, such as the small, beautiful blue church that stood out from the industrial buildings that surrounded it. I took it all in because, in my mind, this would be my last visit to Russia.

How could I have known then that three years later I would be living across the busy street from my friends’ apartment building? If I were to now step outside my building, go around to the street and look to the left, I would see that beautiful church standing proudly at the end of it less than a one minute walk away. You see, my apartment sits closest to the Chertanovskaya metro station, the exact station that I used for the first time four years ago.

How amazing is my God’s plan for me that He placed my friends in an apartment building years before I ever knew them so that when I finally arrived in 2009, I would familiarize myself with a neighbourhood that would eventually be mine? The magnitude of this truth did not truly sink in until this morning. Moscow is one of the largest cities in the world. To put this into perspective, let me use this example: two friends living in this same city could have a two+ hour commute between their respective homes.  And yet God planned it so that Kellie Matthews would live in an apartment in Moscow that uses the same metro station she knows well with a two-minute walk to school and a fifteen-minute walk to her friends’ apartment. How great is the Lord’s plan for each of us that He plots our stories out with such intricate forethought and detail?

Since moving to Moscow on September 2^nd, I have encountered every possible human emotion. Excitement, frustration, loneliness, anticipation, wonder, despair; the list goes on. I will admit that my first seven days here have been the hardest days I have ever encountered in my twenty-five years. There were days I hit below rock bottom, when all I could think to do was pray. I finally got to a point on Tuesday evening, shortly after writing and putting up my last blog post online, that I firmly closed my bedroom door and lost myself in God’s word. I read whatever book or passage sounded right and prayed my heart out to God. I knew, without a doubt, that the Lord intended for me to be in Russia. No matter how low I got, I never questioned this. Resting in that knowledge and certainty, I prayed that the Lord would help me so that I could accomplish His purpose in sending me here. The following morning, I woke up and dove back into His word again. I determined that life was going to turn around because my God had a plan, a plan that had been years in the making.

The Lord had been preparing me for this long before I realized His handiwork. I only really started to recognize His hand in my life in South Africa, when too many coincidental things were happening to be believed. I thought He had the wrong person when He called me to South Africa, but He had planned that step in my life journey long before I was born. If I had not lived those two years in South Africa and experienced all those joys and trials, I would not have been emotionally and spiritually mature to handle this adventure in Russia I am currently living. God knew what I needed to prepare me for this, and He has the same plan for all of you. Whatever trial you are facing, big or small, know that He has a purpose for it. We do not see it as such at the time, but one day we will.

I look at the road I have traveled these last eleven days and cannot believe the difference in me. If not for the dark moments that captured me in my first week here, I would not be able to appreciate the provision and faithfulness God has shown me. Since I woke up Wednesday morning with a renewed mind and spirit founded in an unwavering God, each day has been brighter than the one before. I am steadily becoming more comfortable and certain in the classroom and with my students; I am learning to get around on foot and by metro; I am making new friends; and I am growing stronger as I draw ever closer to the Lord who will always see me through. There is still much to learn, but I am ready to face it.

I begin teaching English lessons this week for a small group of students after school on Mondays and Thursdays. I am nervous, but I know this is one small part of God’s purpose for me here. I do not know what else He has planned, but I can be certain that His plan will be for the best.

I am excited to see what the future holds for me in Moscow. I woke up this morning truly content in my life here. I went to the balcony, opened the window, and looked out at the world. Tree branches hung before me, dripping with heavy droplets as rain fell from the overcast sky. Voices speaking in Russian floated to the sky, reaching me in my perch four floors above the sidewalk.  I smiled. Today was going to be a great day.