My first Russian kiss. 12 years ago.

August marks our 12 year "anniversary" in Russia.

From Georgia, USA, we transferred planes in Germany. The plane ride from Frankfurt was rough, and the turbulence was difficult. The AC went out. I had to take deep breaths. Then I exited the largest plane I had ever flown in and planted my feet on Russian soil in Moscow about 1:30 PM on a Monday in August of 1998. Foreign soil. Interestingly it was about 85 degrees that day, very hot and humid. My almost four year old daughter, Ashlyn, asked, “But where is the snow?” We all had on about three to four layers of clothing expecting frigid weather. However, within a few weeks, the temperature dropped to 52 degrees.

We were moved to the front of the line at passport control because of our small children. After we stepped out of customs, I looked around for the first time and all I saw was the color grey. That is somehow the way I felt. I did not know what to expect, what to think, or what to do. I was just there. Then the next thing I knew I was riding down a polluted street filled with old cars that looked as if they were made in the 1960s, and the only thing I could do was watch building after building pass. They all looked the same to me.

I will continue to describe my first impressions. With my two daughters and husband, we traveled to a small apartment that was to be our home for the next month. We pulled up on the north side of town to a run-down building with graffiti all over the walls. We walked up a flight of stairs with all of our luggage and footlocker trunks and entered a coded door that slammed behind us. We proceeded up a flight of stairs and stepped into a soviet style lift. The bars closed on us, and we traveled upward to our destination on the third floor. The only city that I could possibly relate it to was New York City. I had heard about the Bronx but never lived there. The apartment complex was next to a main street and housed thousands of people.

As I walked into a stuffy apartment, interestingly I immediately looked for toilet paper. One of my fears was that I would not have any. I remembered from MLC (Missionary Learning Center) that some missionaries were crating such household items; though, we could not crate into Russia. We could only arrive with a few trunks.

I know. It is silly the things that we worry about some time, and one of my concerns was arriving in a country that did not sell toilet paper. As I looked around, I noticed a small yellowish-brown hard roll of paper in the corner of a dirty, dusty bathroom. Well, there it was, though not as soft. Incidentally the toilet was just as yellowish-brown as the paper. Apparently the rusted water had stained the fixture. Also there was plaster everywhere, too. Someone had just remodeled the bathroom but forgot to clean up! Then I walked through to the kitchen and found that our missionary colleagues had left us a basket full of goodies. I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and decided that I was going to make it.

Though I was exhausted from traveling nearly 24 hours, I began my duties as a mother to get the house ready for my family. After cleaning the apartment of plaster particles, I distinctly remember finding a bag of freshly washed sheets on our bed. I opened the sack and covered my face with the smell of fresh fabric softener. Thanks missionary family! I once again thought I would survive. Here are some of my thoughts from the first few days in country.

I’m getting used to life here. We can only do about one major thing a day as it takes hours to get anywhere. Just a ride on the metro (underground subway) and bus and back takes three hours. And that’s the fastest way! We went to McDonald’s today. Unfortunately on the way home, we got on the wrong bus, and it carried us on a wrong turn. We had to walk a little extra. On each street going in a certain direction, there is a specific number on the bus. You must get on the right one. We are definitely getting good exercise walking.

I bought some chicken for the first time today. It’s funny. You have to look for what you want, write down how much it cost, what department it is in, go to another place to pay for it, show your receipt to the product-person, and finally get your items. No grocery sacks either. You have to bring your own bags. But most everything that we need is right here around us. Don’t know what it will be like in Bryansk.

Buck’s having difficulty adjusting to the dairy products; they’re shelved, not chilled. 1.8% milk tastes a lot like buttermilk. The cheese is the same way. Uncle Rufus was right about the shelf milk. However, Amielle (my two year old daughter) loves the milk because it tastes very sweet.

It took me four hours to fix supper last night. When I had opened and closed the oven door, the pilot light went out. I did not know. I wash all the vegetables in diluted Clorox water. Everything here takes time. However, I’m faster today. I think I’m getting used to it.
-Journal August 8-9, 1998

Even in the first few years, I wrote:

We have fewer canned and prepared goods here; therefore, most is done from scratch. I have experienced quite a lot since we have been here. At times I have had success, and at times file 13 enjoyed the rejects. One success was a beautiful cake. However, we made moderations on the frosting. The "7 minute frosting" turned out to be a beautiful icing. The egg whites just don't fluff the same though. Maybe one day I will learn the secret touch. (February 2000)

In many ways God showed us that we were welcome in Russia. The Russian people had been smiling at us and talking to the kids as we traveled on the streets of Moscow. A few days after our arrival, a Russian lady we did not know selling flowers handed Ashlyn a small bouquet and a little old lady chased us down the street to hand the kids some old coins from the former Soviet Union. The missionaries said that this never happens.

In our first few days in the country, we had attended a Russian church service that lasted for two hours. The services were held in a hallway of an apartment complex with a few rooms on the side. And some people travel an hour to get to church. We could not understand anything in the language or the customs. The language is going to be hard.

Out of kindness a Russian babushka (grandmother) shared the hymn book with me. A missionary friend translated that I could not read Russian. I will never forget. The lady looked at me and said, “You will.” Then she kissed me on the cheek. My first Russian kiss.
-The Chosen Path, L. Burch

Somebody’s watching you.

As we walk the streets and ride the metro in urban Moscow, we move along at a normal pace and sometimes do not focus on what is happening around us. Let me tell a story about what took place as we ventured to church one day. For this kind of event, I should have been paying more attention. As our family traveled the subway with millions of other passengers and blended in with our dark colored coats, we stepped into the wagon and settled into our seats as usual. Or, so I thought.

That morning I had a heavy heart. I was worrying about some things and feeling rather guilty about some mistakes that I had made. The family was spread out. I was sitting by myself. One child was across from me, another to the right and Buck and the other child were across from the door. Since we had about a 45 minute ride, I began contemplating. Eventually I lowered my head, prayed and asked the Lord’s forgiveness for where I had failed Him. I started to repeat my prayer over and over again. “Lord, please forgive me. I love you.” But then a still, small, not audible voice, said, “Move on and just feed My sheep.”

Wow! With tears forming in my eyes and a light heart now, I was not expecting the mission that was about to be handed to me. I was not paying attention to the somebody that was watching us. Buck was aware of what was taking place this time, but I was not. A lady was sitting near our family and crying. We arrived at our stop, the last on the north train line, and exited onto the platform. I generally make sure the kids make it off first for fear of separation, so I was behind the family. A lady with a large, weaved bag of goods stopped me. I just knew that she was ready to sell me something. She forced a pair of tights in front me and said take these. I shook my head and firmly said, “No.” She insisted that I take them for my older daughter. She replied that they were a gift. I was caught off guard. I took the hose and said, “Thank you.”

As she was walking away with the flow, I remembered what the Lord told me: “Feed My sheep.” My thoughts were: How am I going to catch up with her? Yet, I knew that I had to. I turned to Buck and asked if he had a tract. He did. He was prepared. I looked at Buck and without saying a word he knew that I was going to chase after her. As he watched the kids and waited on me, I ran and stopped the lady. I said to her, “You do not know how much you have blessed me today. I just wanted to let you know how much this gift has meant, especially right now.”

She began to cry and share with me about personal matters. Coming from a recently broken home, she listened as I tried to consult her and share about God’s love. She told me that she was watching our family and noticed the love between father and children—between us. She wanted to reward us with a gift, because we appeared to be a family that stays together. After sharing the Gospel with her, I handed her a tract. We parted and went our separate ways. I will never see her again or know of her true relationship with the Lord. But I learned a lesson: Somebody is always watching you, so be ready at all times to bring the lost to Him and feed His sheep. Even when I least expect an opportunity, I must be watching.
-The Chosen Path, L.Burch

Last great snow

I think that we have had our last great snow of the year. Here is a pic of Amielle and me right outside our apartment door in the courtyard.



And soon our snow will be melting away. It has actually been above freezing this week. And this morning we heard the men knocking the snow and ice off the tops of the buildings. We live in a building with only seven floors now. We have lived on the 20th floor before. However, this job has to be done regularly on these not so tall and older complexes. Here are a few pics taken from our apartment window. How would you like this job? Unfortunately they do not use ropes for protection. They are not aware, but I pray for their safety.

2009-2010 Burch Ministry and School Plans

With the summer coming to a close, the Burch family is gearing up for a new school year with homeschooling and ministry plans—2009-2010. We will start our homeschooling year mid-August. Ashlyn will be in 10th, Amielle in 8th and Luke in 4th grade. Our family attends Golgotha Baptist Church in Moscow. This fall we hope to establish a house group-based English ministry through the church that will meet goals for an international 2nd worship service at the church (more youth-oriented and people group-oriented) as well as start house churches for minority people groups in Moscow. Please pray with us for at least two house groups started by next spring and four by next fall. We would like to see a leader emerge who could be sent out as a missionary/evangelist to his own people group. In a few weeks our present Sunday school class will begin a time of worship by forming a praise & worship choir. And we will be formatting and printing a book for the lessons that were written by a member of our church for the recent spiritual gifts study.

Buck also may be traveling to Serbia in October to help lead an Urban Church Planting Conference for pastors and church planters. Buck will be in Georgia, USA, in November to sign the official IMB/GBC partnership that will start a five-year relationship with Georgia Baptists and St. Petersburg and Moscow. Buck has been invited to train some young people or pastors in the Chuvash Republic and in Ruza. Leslie is praying with the pastors’ wives about starting a home group Bible study. She enjoys meeting with the ladies at Golgotha and has opened her home for a place to meet if they choose. She is also traveling in October to Latvia to help facilitate a leadership meeting among missionary leaders’ wives.

We ask for your prayers as we are moving apartments again. This will be our 7th move since we came to Russia in 1998. The board is asking us to change to another apartment in the center of Moscow in order to make room for another family moving here. We will miss our neighbors that we have come to love. Pray for us to have strength, patience and for the Lord to open up many opportunities for us to serve Him in our new “home”. Buck also covets your prayers as he is working on a Ph.D. in Applied Theology from Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. We depend on your partnership. Thanks for being right with us during our missionary journey and feel free to pass along the E-devotional book A Winter's Path by Les.

In His Love,
Les

Georgia Baptist Convention- Reaching Russia for Christ

Click on the title above for a message in video from Dr. J. Robert White, Executive Director of the Georgia Baptist Convention, about their partnership with the churches in Moscow and Saint Petersburg for planting new churches.

Do you see what I see?

The kids and I enjoyed working up a home video clip from the previous post- voice of silence. One of my task as an IMB missionary of the SBC is to lead you to be on mission with God. There are many ways you are involved in this: pray, give, partner and go to bring all peoples to a saving faith in Jesus Christ. I want to focus on prayer right now and to do my best from across the Atlantic Ocean to help you see what I see. Please join me for a 3 1/2 minute "prayerwalk"...

*click on the arrow tab below.


Or, you if you cannot play it here, click on:
E.zekiel.tv

Feel free to show this to various church groups and Sunday School classes.

Reflecting Back 10 years

Our tent is now pitched in Moscow. How can I begin to share with you about our move? I have been puzzled about this for days. The only place I know to start is 10 years ago. I know that the Lord has many things to teach us in the future. Taking a look back from time to time may help me to be prepared for what is ahead. By reviewing the lessons I learned, I could be more equipped for the task. Simply walking down memory lane is just plain fun, too.

Many of you probably know by now that I have started a new writing project. For years I have journaled a few events of our missionary experience. I have been encouraged by family and friends to organize these thoughts; however, I am not fully sure how to take on this new endeavor. I came to the conclusion that sometimes a person needs to listen to these little hints and just act upon them even though one might feel incompetent. Below is a short excerpt from that journal chapter entitled “where the path led us” (10 years ago):

“From Georgia, USA, we transferred planes in Germany. The plane ride from Frankfurt was rough, and the turbulence was difficult. The AC went out. I had to take deep breaths. Then I exited the largest plane I had ever flown in and planted my feet on Russian soil in Moscow about 1:30 PM on a Monday in August of 1998. Foreign soil. Interestingly it was about 85 degrees that day, very hot and humid. My four year old daughter, Ashlyn, asked, “But where is the snow?” We all had on about three to four layers of clothing expecting frigid weather. However, within a few days, the temperature had dropped to 52 degrees.

We were moved to the front of the line at passport control because of our small children. After we stepped out of customs, I looked around for the first time and all I saw was the color grey. That is somehow the way I felt. I did not know what to expect, what to think, or what to do. I was just there. Then the next thing I knew I was riding down a polluted street filled with old cars that looked as if they were made in the 1960s, and the only thing I could do was watch building after building pass. They all looked the same to me.

I will continue to describe my first impressions. With my two daughters and husband, we traveled to a small apartment that was to be our home for the next month. We pulled up on the north side of town to a run down building with graffiti all over the walls. We walked up a flight of stairs with all of our luggage and footlocker trunks and entered a coded door that slammed behind us. We proceeded up a flight of stairs and stepped into a soviet style lift. The bars closed on us, and we traveled upward to our destination on the third floor. The only city that I could possibly relate it to was New York City. I had heard about the Bronx but never lived there.

The apartment complex was next to a main street and housed thousands of people…Then I walked through to the kitchen and found that our missionary colleagues had left us a basket full of goodies. I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and decided that I was going to make it.

Though I was exhausted from traveling nearly 24 hours, I began my duties as a mother to get the house ready for my family. After cleaning the apartment of plaster particles [recently remodeled bathroom], I distinctly remember finding a bag of freshly washed sheets on our bed. I opened the sack and covered my face with the smell of fresh fabric softener. Thanks missionary family! I once again thought I would survive. Here are some of my thoughts from the first few days in county.

I’m getting used to life here. We can only do about one major thing a day as it takes hours to get anywhere. Just a ride on the metro (underground subway) and bus and back takes three hours. And that’s the fastest way! We went to McDonald’s today. Unfortunately on the way home, we got on the wrong bus, and it carried us a wrong turn. We had to walk a little extra. On each street going in a certain direction, there is a specific number on the bus. You must get on the right one. We are definitely getting good exercise walking.

I bought some chicken for the first time today. It’s funny. You have to look for what you want, write it down how much it cost, what department it is in, go to another place to pay for it, show your receipt to the product-person, and finally get your items. No grocery sacks either. You have to bring your own bags. But most everything that we need is right here around us. Don’t know what it will be like in Bryansk.

Buck’s having difficulty adjusting to the dairy products; they’re shelved, not chilled. 1.8% milk tastes a lot like buttermilk. The cheese is the same way. Uncle Rufus was right about the shelf milk. However, Amielle (my two year old daughter) loves the milk because it tastes very sweet.

It took me four hours to fix supper last night. When I had opened and closed the oven door, the pilot light went out. I did not know. I wash all the vegetables in diluted Clorox water. Everything here takes time. However, I’m faster today. I think I’m getting used to it.
-Journal August 8-9, 1998

In many ways God showed us that we were welcome in Russia. The Russian people had been smiling at us and talking to the kids as we traveled on the streets of Moscow. A few days after our arrival, a Russian lady we did not know selling flowers handed Ashlyn a small bouquet and a little old lady chased us down the street to hand the kids some old coins from the former Soviet Union. The missionaries said that this never happened.

In our first few days in the country, we had attended a Russian church service that lasted for two hours. The services were held in a hallway of an apartment complex with a few rooms on the side. We could not understand anything in the language or the customs. The language is going to be hard.

Out of kindness a Russian babushka (grandmother) shared the hymn book with me. A missionary friend translated that I could not read Russian. I will never forget. The lady looked at me and said, “You will.” Then she kissed me on the cheek. My first Russian kiss.
-The Chosen Path, L. Burch, 2008