The Heart of a Child

“Do you love your wife?” I started to laugh before I realized that the little girl who asked me the question was serious. I was walking her & her brothers home from a center for at-risk children. “Of course I love my wife,” I replied. She continued to walk pensively beside me, absent-mindedly swinging my hand. “Do you swear and yell at your daughter?” “No,” I answered. I could only wonder what she has experienced in her 6 years that would make her ask these questions. She said nothing more but when we got to her street she gave me a hug & flashed an adorable smile that was missing her two front teeth. Times like these are what keep me coming back to this center to love on these kids.


Another one of my favorite times is at our church orphanage during group prayers. With 12 kids (ages 5-13) it can get long and a little chaotic, as inevitably some of the older boys will feel the need to pinch, kick, or roll their knuckles across the spine of one of the younger kids. But in spite of the length, the sore knees, the squirming, each kid prays their heart out. They fight for the places next to us. Usually the two next to us have their arms around us, and the two next to them are holding our hands. Without fail they all thank God that we came to see them & pray that we will come again soon. They ask God to help them be obedient during the Bible story and craft times. One boy always prays for his mother to go to church and know God although, to our knowledge, she has no involvement in his life. I asked him if she ever visited and he replied no, because she lives too far away. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the village where she lives is only 10 minutes away. But his sincerity in constantly praying for a mother who gave him up and has nothing to do with him always impacts us. I pray we also have hearts like this boy, free of bitterness and full of compassion.

The Foolishness of God

I’ve been reading 1 Corinthians 1 and much of this passage is a contrast between the wisdom of this world, and, as Paul refers to it, the foolishness of God. From verse 18 to the end of the chapter, the word foolishness is mentioned 6 times, and the word wisdom or wise is mentioned 10 times. That phrase seems a little heretical when I first read it, but Paul explains in 1 Cor. 1:25 that “The foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.” I am realizing this contrast calls for a re-evaluation of what I consider to be wise.


During our first year here, the predominant feeling we experienced was stress. We were always tense, waiting to get yelled at for some cultural infraction or misunderstanding. Whether at the store, post office, or on the street we would constantly be straining to understand everything and inwardly bracing ourselves for a backlash when we didn’t.

There is a hostility and anger that often lurks just beneath the surface in people here, and it is all too easy to draw it out. It’s understandable given what many of these people have lived through, but it takes some getting used to. That anxiety is still present, but as our language & cultural awareness improve it is diminishing.

Now the main emotion I find myself experiencing is foolishness. Our circle of friends is expanding, but we are always very aware that we are foreigners and we don’t fit in. What seemed like such a worthy endeavor on one side of the Atlantic often doesn’t feel so noble over here. I feel foolish when I try to explain to some Americans why we moved here, when obviously there are also orphans in America and we could probably serve more effectively in our own country. I feel foolish when I explain to incredulous Ukrainians why we left a nation many of them wish they could move to. I feel foolish when I think how naïve I was in underestimating the difficulty of establishing a meaningful ministry here.

The reasons that make me feel foolish, however, also make me depend on the Lord to a much greater degree than I otherwise would. I have few words of wisdom to offer to the kids we work with…. my main contribution this week was teaching a 12 year old boy how to tie his shoes. Yet when we left to play outside and he held my hand as a child much younger would do, it reminded me that God doesn’t need some special talent or skill from us in order to accomplish His work. As 1 Corinthians 1:27-29 says, “God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things that are mighty…. That no flesh should glory in His presence.” What seems to be foolish to us might have a much greater purpose in our lives.

Camping

To follow up on our orphanage soccer tournament that took place in April, I was part of a team that took about 60 orphan boys camping for a week. We took 10 kids from 6 orphanages to just outside a small village a few hours north of Odessa. It was one of those villages where when you turn off the main highway, the only traffic you see is a horse & wagon, the occasional 1960’s Soviet car that looks like it’s held together by rubber bands, and old bicycles. It was a unique, ambitious endeavor, something I’m not sure I would have attempted, but thankfully I was not in charge! My good friend Slavic directed it, and I really admire the faith & breadth of his ministry vision.

The kids chopped firewood (no limbs were lost), built rafts for relays, had outdoor survival lessons, had slip & slide and diving contests, a soccer tournament, Bible lessons, paintball with slingshots, and various team quests. Each orphanage had a staff member also there for the week to observe, but most of them were cordial and complimentary. In many ways a week wasn't long enough to create the atmosphere we wanted... it took time to break down the “us vs. the world” mentality that each orphanage had. They were just starting to pray for the first time in their lives and join in the praise songs we sang each night. In other ways however, a week was certainly long enough... my mind was shot from always straining to understand the Russian or Ukrainian that was spoken. The conditions were rustic… we dug our toilets, our only "shower" was a stagnant, muddy, mosquito-infested pond, and we were served hot buckwheat, soup and tea every day in humid 95 degree weather.... but not too bad.

I was in charge of a daily 3-hour sports session, which for these boys meant soccer. Here you don't do sports or hobbies for fun, you take them very seriously, especially soccer. These boys play with such anger and such a propensity to argue that it caught me a little off-guard, even though I'm well aware of that trait in Ukrainian culture. I was the lone ref, & to try to curb these tendencies, the first day I told the kids that for swearing I would award a penalty to the other team. Bad idea... I know some Russian swear words but Russian has so many you can say whole sentences just by cursing. I awarded 3 penalties but all I really did was give the kids another reason to argue with me as they ran up to me claiming someone said this or that. Since the kids often spoke Surgic (Ukrainian-Russian mix) I felt even more tentative with my Russian than usual. So by the end of the day the only factor uniting the kids was mutual disgust with the decision to allow the only American in the camp to be the soccer official. It can be a yell or be yelled at culture. So the next day I abolished the penalty experiment, sat several kids for arguing with me, and made myself get comfortable with grabbing kids arms & speaking very forcefully to them in Russian, even if my grammar was off. Things improved after that and the soccer ended up being a success.

   Although it was a challenging week, by the end the boys' demeanor had visibly softened, and some said it was the best week of their lives.  It was rewarding to see them enjoy themselves so much, and difficult to say goodbye.  We pray for open doors into these orphanages as a result of this camp!



Best Friends



Vanya & Kolya

A Prayerful and Emotional Goodbye

A Time to Say Goodbye

To help prepare Esther for an outing at our church’s small orphanage, every time we go we tell her that we are going to see Kolya. We have only been helping out there for a couple months, but little Esther and Kolya have developed quite a friendship. He is an adorable, curly-haired boy who is also 2 years old and, along with his 4 year old brother Vanya, has been at the orphanage for almost a year. Every time Esther sees him she squeals in delight as he toddles over to her, and for weeks the only intelligible words in her prayers have been, “Mommy, Daya, Nemo (as in Finding Nemo), and Kolya." Of course, she did see the dark side of 2 year old boys with his constant pinching and hair pulling, but that did not seem to dampen their friendship. Kolya also melted our hearts by continually addressing us with the Russian words for uncle and aunt.


This week one of the orphanage workers took me aside and gave me some difficult news. It was one of those exchanges in Russian where I understood every word, but was sure I had missed the overall meaning of what she was saying. There had been a hearing where a judge ruled that the parents of Vanya and Kolya would now have custody over them. The boys were to be taken away the next day. We know little about the parents except that they dropped their sons off at the orphanage nearly a year ago, and we pray it is a good sign that they have requested custody of their sons. We are obviously saddened by the realization that we will likely never see these boys again. What will we tell Esther now as we get ready to go to the orphanage? The real heartbreak though, is for the Ukrainian couple and 3 women workers who lovingly cared for these boys every day. That next morning we watched the tears roll down their faces as they prayed for the 2 boys and hugged them for the last time. These goodbyes happen when you work with at-risk and abandoned children, but they are never something you get used to. So farewell little Kolya, we entrust you to God’s protective and tender care. We did not know you long and you will not remember us, but you made an impact on our family!

Stuck in the Mud

                                                                      

                                                                        

My parents arrived for a visit two days ago, and since we recently got a car, we decided to take them for a fun, relaxing outing.  Five miles away from us there is a liman, a large, shallow body of salt water.  Esther loves to play in it & it's remote enough so that it's usually not crowded, and our dog can run around without a leash.  I drove the car out on to the beach & everyone got out.  Soon the decision was made to move down to a place where the water was more accessible.  The ground felt firm enough, & our car is 4 wheel drive, so I thought I'd be fine driving, but very soon I got very stuck.  The car sunk up to the axle in mud so thick the wheels could not spin.  Dad & I got to work jacking up the car and looking for trash, branches, etc. to put under the wheels.  When we walked one step the ground was firm, but then on the next step we would sink in mud up to our knees.
      There were not many people there, but our plight started to attract some attention.  A man from Siberia, in town for a motorcycle festival, asked for help from the owner of a jeep a few hundred yards down the beach.  We hooked up a tow rope but the car didn't budge.  Fortunately the owner of the car was a local who spoke English since he had worked on a cruise ship from Los Angeles to Hawaii.  He remembered a small sign under some branches on one of the dirt roads to the beach that had the number of a tow truck.  We found the sign and he made the call (I barely knew how to describe where we were in English, let alone Russian). 
              Meanwhile, it was clear we were not moving any time soon so Sarah, my mom, Esther, and our dog had to walk the 5 miles home.  Ordinarily it would be a pretty walk, but with a toddler in the heat of the day, a tad long.  As it turned out, Esther did fine but our poor little dog nearly passed out from heat exhaustion.  He found a mud puddle by the road, laid down in it and refused to move for about 10 minutes.  After 2 hours they made it home. 
             The tow truck was still nowhere in sight, but a man rode up on his bike and took our situation personally.  He covered himself in mud trying jack the car up higher and find ways to give the tires traction.  It was a hopeless cause, but I appreciated his zeal.  He told us the few English words he knew (mostly swear words), and said, "Welcome of Ukraine!"  As we talked we found out that he is a retired bodyguard who lives on $120 a month, loves to talk and is always up for a challenge.  Finally the tow truck arrived, hooked us up to their winch and pulled the car about 20 feet before it was finally free.  In the process however, the tow truck had sunk just enough so that now it was stuck.  I tried to tow him, but that predictably got nowhere.  The driver made a phone call, charged me $50 for the tow and told me it would cost him $100 to get his truck towed.  After 5 hours, I was finally free but he had at least another hour to wait.  "It's the liman, what can you do," he said with a shrug and a smile.  "At least I can work on my tan!" 

Crafts and Banana Bread

Over the past month we've been able to get involved with our church's orphanage. They have 10 kids ranging from ages 2-12. We have quickly grown to love these orphans! Could I adopt them all?!  I guess that's why we moved over here. We always receive many hugs. We have been visiting twice a week where Gabe will tell a Bible story and I will help them with a craft. They love making crafts and will either hang them up in their rooms or will give them to me or Esther. One time, I brought blank puzzles that they could draw on and they all ended up making them for me because it was my birthday. The other day I brought them banana bread muffins, which they have never had before. The oldest boy just kept looking at the muffin as if trying to figure out what it really was. One boy in his prayer thanked God that I made banana bread for them and that it tasted good. They liked it so much that they want me to teach them how to make it! So I translated the recipe in Russian with my language teacher and tomorrow I am taking the two girls with me to buy the ingredients and make it. Hopefully it will turn out well, it should be a fun time.