For most people, the end of the calendar year is a time to reflect, write Christmas cards, and check in with loved ones. For us, it's now: the end of the school year. Our time in Kosovo has revolved around this quirky little American school on the outskirts of town. Now that finals are done, we're starting to pack up our lives and look forward to another summer in America. But before we get out the door, here's a rundown of what we've been up to for the past ten months. 

This year, Sam taught world history, math, and arts enrichment at Prishtina High School. He was also voted chairperson of the faculty senate and representative to the local governing board. It's been a year of change (with an almost entirely new staff) and big responsibility, but Sam has done incredibly well. Students are always coming up to me and telling me how much they like him and how well he listens to them. He will certainly be missed.  

Sam and I were also asked to be the Senior Trip chaperons, taking eleven teenagers to Alanya, Turkey and back. I enjoyed getting to know the students, and Sam was happy to have a last hurrah with the graduating class. Plus, everyone came home in one piece! 

This has been my first full year of blogging, and I have absolutely loved it. I'm planning to renovate the blog over the summer, giving it a professional domain and design. I'll update you all as that process goes underway. I've also continued to write for Awaken Magazine. You can read my articles here. 

The book project has been slow, and I've gone through endless manuscripts, but I'm still trusting that God initiated this project, and he'll see it through when the time is right. Until then, you'll find me musing about marriage, asking questions, and writing writing writing. 

Church was a little bit of an adventure this year. We started off where we'd been planted last year, with Sam leading worship and both of us serving on the ministry team. In December, we finally admitted to ourselves and the church leaders that it wasn't a good fit and amicably parted ways. We prayed for a new community, and God blessed us with a wonderful Nazarene church. There, we've met some amazing people, had tons of potlucks, and even led a bit of worship again. 

Looking back, the timing of our move was perfect. God put people in our lives that we desperately needed, and dropped us in to encourage families in crisis. I've been particularly happy to step into a "mama" role for some of the teenage girls there. 

The Steere household continued to be a place of peace, rest, and good food this year. We often invited people over for dinner, or spent hours chatting over dessert in the living room. Sam and I also had a number of guests this year. Between family, friends, and visiting missionaries, our spare room was frequently in use, and we enjoyed playing host. Sometimes fellow expats would drop in, too, just for a place to rest up! I'm thankful that our home has been a refuge in this busy, tiring city. 

Finally, this year has brought about new dreams in our hearts. God has given us vision for the coming year, which we think will lead us to ministry in France. It's daunting to think about moving continents again and having to raise enough support to live in a much more developed country, but we are trusting that where God leads, he will provide. And we are excited to see what all he has in store for us! 

Next Wednesday, we'll arrive back in the States, where we'll visit family and friends for a couple months. By September, we plan to be in France, working short term with a ministry near Montpellier. We suspect that God will lead us to a long-term commitment there, but are waiting for the green light. 

In the mean time, we'd appreciate your prayers and support. Coming back to America is wonderful, but sometimes very unsettling, as we're used to a very different (and simpler) lifestyle. We're also in need of funds for medical visits, food, gas, and replacement items (for all that Kosovo broke). If you would like to support us this summer, or give to our upcoming French mission, check out the different ways you can partner with us. 

We so appreciate all of you who read this blog, pray for us, and encourage us with your friendship! The blog will probably be quiet for most of the summer, but I hope that we'll see many of you in person and continue this journey together in the fall! 

With love, 
Liz & Sam 

I'm the kind of person who likes to be in control: work hard, make plans, be prepared. Unfortunately for me, there's nothing like a trans-Atlantic move to remind you how totally not-in-control you are. By the end of it, you're just thankful to have arrived in one piece. 

As I contemplate the move, what I'm most aware of is our total neediness. We'll be arriving with worn-out clothes, bodies, and bank accounts. We'll stay with family, and mostly rely on them for food and transportation. We'll need a lot of emotional care and support as we process the transition and the past two years. 

We will, in short, be those people that nobody wants to be: the needy friends. We'll cry at inopportune times. We sometimes won't have the energy or money to do normal American activities. And on top of all that, we'll be asking for support for our French scouting trip, which may seem really unfair to you (and that's fine). 

A couple years ago, if someone had called me "needy," it would have been the worst insult possible. I'd built my life around being independent, a giver, a worker. Like most Americans, I wanted people to need me, but I certainly didn't want to need anyone else. I didn't even like the idea of getting married, let alone getting married and going to live abroad on support (ha!), but somehow God convinced me to do it all. 

And it changed everything. 

I was watching this interview with Heidi Baker—a missionary to Mozambique and one of my heroes of faith—and she just smiled as she said, "I feel like the neediest person on the planet." She went on to talk about getting needy before God, being poor in spirit, and crying out for help from our Father. I felt like someone kicked me in the gut, it was so abhorrent to me to think about being needy. I just wanted God to work out our monthly support, make it all work smoothly. But that's not how life in Kosovo has gone. We've had to wait on God and trust in him a whole lot more than we'd like to. 

It has, of course, been the best thing in the world for us. 

Being needy has made us recognize our true relationship with God, which is absolute dependence. It's made us lean on our communities and actually let people help us, which (surprise!) people really like to do. It's made us realize that we cannot be totally self-sufficient, and even if we could, it would be a sad, isolate kind of life.   

I know that neediness doesn't have the best reputation. Maybe you think about your needy ex-boyfriend or people who've been on welfare too long. But the truth of the matter is that we're all needy, in lots of ways. We need God for our very life and breath, the health of our bodies and spirits. We certainly need other people, particularly when our carefully-constructed lives crumble. Even if we're the hardest workers in the world, providing for ourselves all by ourselves, we still need good infrastructure and political stability to pull off our little one-man shows.

Everything we accomplish takes divine intervention and a village of support, whether we see it or not. And I, for one, see it now. I can't do a lot about being needy. I can't (in good conscience) deny God's call and go make a pile of money so that I never have to ask for anything again. But I can be thankful for the people who haven't begrudged me for asking. For those who have helped us, in big ways and small. For those who have upheld us, understood us, and encouraged us. Thank you all so, so much for letting us be the needy friends. I hope that, at some point, we'll get to bless you as much as you've blessed us. 

Today, all I have to give is this advice: let yourself be needy. It's not as bad as you think. Really.