I love being in Lithuania. Especially on days like today when the sun is shining and there is fresh snow on the ground. A delicious 21 degrees Fahrenheit is for me a perfect temperature. But not all days are like this…some days it’s a struggle. Not because of Lithuania, but because of homesickness, missing family and friends. I often wonder what am I missing in the lives and events of those I love back home in America?

Obedience means different things to different people. For some it is raising a family; for others it is starting a small business or keeping financial records at an organization that provides humanitarian aid. For Daryl and me it has meant to travel 5,057 miles away from home to live as strangers in a foreign land. We are deaf—we have no idea what is being said around us. If someone was to call out, “FIRE”, we’d have no idea what was going on. We are illiterate: as academics it is a difficult struggle to not be able to read or write; not to comprehend something as simple as a label on a jar. We are mute: we can’t answer when people speak to us. Yesterday a girl in the market asked me a question and I simply could not answer her. (I know you are thinking, “Hey! Learn the language weirdos!” We want to, but we have been so busy and Lithuanian is a really difficult language. We keep falling back on my so-so Russian and that’s been a bad habit to break!).

People ask us how many souls have we won to Christ? Well, none. How many people have made a decision to follow Jesus? None. Are you hosting Bible studies? No. What are you guys doing over there?!? Uh…good question. I guess we’re trying to simply obey Jesus and perhaps we are not doing a very good job of it.

Daryl preaches at local churches occasionally and is well-received. We invite all of my students to come hear him preach. He does a really good job of presenting the Good News clearly. He mentors local Christian leaders. He gives guest lectures at our university and he meets with leaders of other universities around the city to place more IICS professors here. He prays.

I teach my classes and I try to do a good job. I ask the Lord to help me prepare and to help me deliver a lesson of value and significance. I try to love each and every one of my students and my coworkers. I bake chocolate chip cookies. I try to listen to my students. I visit those that are sick in the hospital. I hold those in my arms who are mourning the death of a family member. I try to encourage those who are struggling with discouragement. I host parties at our apartment and fill them with chai latte and pumpkin bread. I pray for each one by name every day. Is it enough? I don’t know. This is a question I ask myself daily.

Maybe others feel this way too, but I have a constant nagging sense that I am letting everyone in my world down: my sister for not being there for her during a time of need; our daughter who is getting ready to give birth to her first child; our daughter-in-law who could use some help with three very active, very bright and beautiful kids. My Mom is struggling with her memory and I wonder if I am missing out on the last clear moments of her life. Daryl’s Mom is lonesome and misses her son dearly. And yet I can’t quench this thing in my soul…this indescribable pull to be here in our much-loved Lithuania.

We love this nation so very much and we are burdened for it. It has the highest suicide rate in the world. There is a mass emigration and it is having a profound effect on society—especially in the intellectual community. And there is this sense among the Lithuanians (at least the ones I know) that to be Lithuanian is to be Catholic and therefore Christian. But most of the people I know and speak to don’t know anything about the Bible or a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. The ones I know do not understand God’s personal love for them. And so we stay…and some days it is painful. Some days it is a struggle. Some days it seems the most ridiculous thing to do.

Are we missing out on things back home? Yes. But maybe that is what God has asked of us. Our hearts break for the 3 million Lithuanians who need to know our Redeemer lives and that He knows each one of them by name and He loves them with an Eternal Love.

Hudson Taylor used to say, “We go forth on our knees.” But honestly, some days it feels more like on our bellies crawling through enemy lines, landmines, trying to avoid barbed wire and pitfalls…but through faith and hope in Jesus Christ—the Lord and Savior of all—we do at least try to move forward…little by little…bit by bit and always…only in His Name. Peace.