Under the Jasmine Tree

Liliia often visits an elderly home in Ragozov, bringing tea, bread, sausages, sweets, and other food items, books, medicine, glasses, or whatever else is needed that she can find. She visits with the people there to talk with them, hear their stories, read to them, and sometimes wash their wounds or cut their hair. This so called hospital is in dismal condition. The people living there are there because they don't have somewhere else they can go. Liliia told me once on the way to Ragozov that these people are orphans, too. I think about that every time I visit with her.

When I do go along with Liliia I often feel overwhelmed and don't know how to be helpful. The last two times I went with her she had the idea for me to take Oleg outside for some fresh air while she visited with the remaining patients. Oleg can't walk and usually must spend the whole day in bed. Liliia found a wheelchair and we brought him outside for a stroll in the sun. After our walk we parked Oleg's wheelchair under a jasmine tree, and Liliia suggested I sit with him for the rest of our visit. I was happy to have something I could do, but I was tense and anxious the first few minutes, trying to do something withe the time. I quickly ran out of questions and comments I could share with Oleg in Ukrainian and we both fell into silence.

There we were, sitting side-by-side and yet universes apart. And yet, were we? I don't know how to describe it, but it was beautiful to sit there even in silence and just be together. We couldn't do anything for each other, but we could be there together, enjoying colors, flowers, clouds, chickens, sunlight, a gentle breeze.

Gypsy Camp August 2018

From July 22nd to August 7th, I joined some friends on a trip to Mukachevo, a town far west in Ukraine to help with a project and a couple of kids camps in different Roma communities.

The first week we helped some friends in a Roma village in Luchky clean and paint their church and classrooms. It was crazy hot and a lot of work, but we had help from another team and some of the ladies from the village who came almost every day to help us on top of their usual daily work. One of the days we took a break and ate sandwiches with the ladies who were helping us. We talked about their families and how many children they had or wanted to have. They were surprised and devastated to learn that I was 29 and still unmarried without children of my own. Usually, girls in the village are married by 15 or 16.

We didn't prepare a camp for the kids this trip since we were asked to help with renovations instead, but we were able to still play Frisbee and have a short "discovery" lesson about horses (the people and kids in Luchky love horses), and a discussion about what Jesus meant when he said that he is "the light of the world."

We look forward to returning to Luchky next month for another project and kids camp.

After the church and classrooms were all painted, we had a day of rest before starting camps with a local family who puts together kids camps in several different gypsy communities.

While in Mukachevo, we were able to see a blood moon. The total lunar eclipse also coincided with Mars being unusually close to the Earth, so we got to see the moon appear to turn deep red as well as Mars gleaming like a bright ruby just beneath the moon. The night was clear so we all went to the top of the castle in Mukachevo to witness the rare event. While we gazed at the moon, Liliia commented how beautiful it was that some things God gives to us to enjoy for free, that no matter if you were the richest or poorest person in Mukachevo, fortunate or unfortunate, we could all enjoy this scene. And it made me think of the justice and mercy of God, who "makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust" (Matt. 5:45). Roma communities endure constant injustice as do most unprivileged communities. There has been a growing number of attacks on Roma people in Ukraine. In April, the far-right group C14 burnt down tents in a Roma camp in Kyiv and chased people out. In other cases people were murdered. Our friends in Luchky are afraid. The systematic injustice is overwhelming. I'm grateful for this small specific moment when everyone in Mukachevo and the surrounding villages could enjoy the same beautiful scene.

Next we joined another ministry for two three day camps in to other Roma communities. The team, camps, and kids were mostly new to us but we enjoyed getting to know them and swapping ideas to make both of our camps better and more importantly, how to love the people in these communities well.

Please pray as we prepare to return to Luchky next month. If we can, we will help the people of Luchky dig a new well and we will have a camp for the kids centered on the fruits of the Spirit and different professions.

View from the train

Painting adventures

 Having a picnic lunch in the shade

Some of the kids kept asking Liliia when she would stop painting and play with them. She is close to their hearts and they to hers. 

 The living conditions in Luchky are difficult, but the land is beautiful.

 Taking a snack break from the sweltering heat during our second kids camp.

Barvinok 2018

Our first camp of the summer is over, and tomorrow we go on to our second. But I don't want to move on to another set of kids without sharing with you just a few stories about some of the beautiful kids in this picture.

This camp particularly blessed me because my dad also came to camp for the first time. He jumped right in and did his best to connect with not only the kids in our group but with the younger kids and the Ukrainian team as well. Everyone fell in love with him. We were with the oldest kids, 15-16 year olds, and one night we had a bonfire with them and all took turns answering fill-in-the-blank questions. One of our boys shared about his grandmother and how she always tried to take care of him, and one of our girls, Dasha, commented, "Grandparents are the best people. That's why Jason wants to be a grandfather." The boys loved playing american football with my dad and admired his stories and insights in our lesson times.

Another special aspect of this camp was that our team already knew most of the kids in our group. Some kids we knew from previous camps, like Luba, who is getting adopted along with her younger sister by a Ukrainian family in Texas! And others we knew from teaching english and life skills classes once a week at their orphanage during the school year. So our group was more like a reunion than a new meeting and we went deep early on because we didn't have to break the ice and build new relationships.

Because we already new these kids, they each quickly let us deeper into their stories, feelings, and dreams. The things these kids have gone through and are going through broke our hearts to a point beyond words. One afternoon Liliia and I walked with Dasha as she told us about what's going on in her heart and the pain and hopelessness she carries. After holding her and letting her cry, Liliia asked her if there was something in life that brings her joy. She said laying on the grass and looking up into the trees, so we did just that.

The morning after a really interesting conversation about principles and convictions, we found out one of our kids was beaten very badly by another boy in our group. And still another boy from our group stood watch and guarded the door while the beating took place. It was so bad a doctor and the police were called in. There are similar gang and prison structures in orphanages, power and fear are tools of control that establish a hierarchy. We knew things like this happened all the time, but to see it play out with our boys, boys we loved and thought had chosen to live differently, deeply discouraged us.

But, the boy who stood guard eventually came to Liliia and then to Jenya and wept over what he had done, and admitted he felt horrible about it and wanted forgiveness. He went and apologized to the boy who was beat up (who forgave him) and that evening apologized in front of our whole small group, even though there were some boys who laughed at him. He said he never would have felt bad about doing something like this before, but God was awakening his heart and convicted him. And then, on our last night of camp the boy who did the beating came to our small group and as we shared our reflections from camp, he said that his take away from camp was that he needs to be kinder.

We pray that these things take root in these kids hearts and truly changes their lives. I was once again reminded to never give up on someone. No one is ever too far lost that God's love cannot restore him or her. Our Good Father is the God who brings dry bones to life.

Ezekiel 37:1-14 Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB)
The Valley of Dry Bones

37 The hand of the Lord was on me, and He brought me out by His Spirit and set me down in the middle of the valley; it was full of bones. 2 He led me all around them. There were a great many of them on the surface of the valley, and they were very dry. 3 Then He said to me, “Son of man, can these bones live?”

I replied, “Lord God, only You know.”

4 He said to me, “Prophesy concerning these bones and say to them: Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! 5 This is what the Lord God says to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you will live. 6 I will put tendons on you, make flesh grow on you, and cover you with skin. I will put breath in you so that you come to life. Then you will know that I am Yahweh.”

7 So I prophesied as I had been commanded. While I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. 8 As I looked, tendons appeared on them, flesh grew, and skin covered them, but there was no breath in them. 9 He said to me, “Prophesy to the breath,[a] prophesy, son of man. Say to it: This is what the Lord God says: Breath, come from the four winds and breathe into these slain so that they may live!” 10 So I prophesied as He commanded me; the breath[b] entered them, and they came to life and stood on their feet, a vast army.

11 Then He said to me, “Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel. Look how they say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope has perished; we are cut off.’ 12 Therefore, prophesy and say to them: This is what the Lord God says: I am going to open your graves and bring you up from them, My people, and lead you into the land of Israel. 13 You will know that I am Yahweh, My people, when I open your graves and bring you up from them. 14 I will put My Spirit in you, and you will live, and I will settle you in your own land. Then you will know that I am Yahweh. I have spoken, and I will do it.” This is the declaration of the Lord.

A New Journey

On New Year's Eve, 2014, I was in Ukraine celebrating with dear friends during a few days lapse in between camps we were putting on for children in local orphanages. We decided to write down our dreams for the new year and seal them up in tiny jars to be opened next year. I heard the scratch of everyone else's pens as they wrote their dreams, but my pen simply rested against the piece of red construction paper I held in my hand. I had nothing to write. There were the usual resolutions I could put down- go skydiving, study Russian, write more poems, read the Bible every day... but these were practical things I could accomplish, not a vision or hope I had for the future.
Life had taught me dreaming of the future could be dangerous. The future could disappoint and hurt me, so why dream at all? I had rationalized the safest way to live meant having no expectations, simply taking whatever came and accepting it as the Lord's will. Sitting on a kitchen chair in a friend’s living room that night, I realized how sad it was that I allowed fear and pain to stop me from dreaming. After a few more minutes, I wrote down the only honest thing I could, "Lord, give me dreams again." We all sealed our jars and sang a few worship songs together.
As the party dwindled and people began to leave, a new friend of mine, who had no idea what I had just asked the Lord, turned to me, looked me in the eyes and said, "my sister, my wish for you is to dream impossible things." And then he turned away and left.

Two and a half years later, I moved to Ukraine as a missionary to work with Ukrainian friends serving orphans. 
I've been serving in summer camps for seven years now, but since moving to Ukraine over a year ago I've been able to see kids growing up in orphanages in a deeper and fuller way. Their resiliency, intensity, kindness, ingenuity, and charisma surprise me daily and motivate me to draw closer to them despite language barriers, wound walls, bad habits, fears, and insecurities. They teach me much. I long to create safe spaces for these youth to bring the shameful experiences they carry to light, to encounter Jesus, and to embrace and celebrate their story and its connection to God’s narrative.

I love stories and hold them as sacred and precious, especially The Story from which comes all stories -- the craft of God and His movement toward us. There is nothing more wonderful to me than the story of the Gospel, that we not only are able to know the story, but are invited to participate in it as well. I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection. I want to see His kingdom come. Even if the circumstances of an orphan’s life aren’t changed, I hope to give him or her the experience of being seen, being heard, being in the presence of someone willing to sit with them in their pain and to know this experience as an extension of God’s incarnational love for them and desire to be in relationship with them.

I have witnessed painful stories in prisons, strip clubs, halfway homes, and orphanages. Through these stories and the people who carry them God has shown me His heart. In Ukraine specifically, I have offered what little I can, and the deeper I’m allowed into orphans’ lives the more I realize how unequipped I am to help them navigate their pain. There has been blessing in offering what little I have and seeing God use it, but there is much more I want to learn about loving people who are living in the fear and pain of chronic trauma. I want to go back to school to learn how to go to depths with these youth I am currently unable to reach. So often a child will share a piece of their story and because I don’t know how to enter their wounds and healthily bind them up again, I have to bring the conversation back to a manageable depth. So often a kid is triggered by something around them and I don’t know how to help them feel safe. I have band aids, but these kids need tourniquets. I have a first aid kit, they need a hospital. That is why I want to pursue a MA degree in counseling and psychology.
Chronic trauma is not a well studied topic in Ukraine and there are few resources, so I started looking for a program in the States. After reading Dan Allender’s The Wounded Heart, friends and I discovered the Allender Center and the Seattle School. I love this school's fusion of Gospel and psychology- recognizing their integral relationship rather than viewing science and theology as sterile separates. I really respect the structure of the Seattle School, and that personal counseling is required as a part of processing your own story and being aware how it shapes your interaction with others.

My new “impossible” dream is to study at the Seattle School and take this equipment back to Ukraine to better support Ukrainians as they serve orphans. I want to better serve and love the kids I’m currently trying to serve and love. I want to go deeper into God’s heart for them. To offer them the best that I can. It would be an overwhelming gift to offer what I would learn at the Seattle School to these kids.

But You Heard Me Today

We just returned from a short 5 day camp with kids from Gorodenya during their spring break. This is an orphanage we have been visiting for several years now and have relationships with kids we've watched grow into teenagers, several of which were in my small group this time.

One of these kids is a young man I will refer to as Roma to honor his identity. Over the years Roma has spent time with host families in the States and has learned to speak English pretty well. This camp was the first time I really got to sit down and talk with him outside of the usual games and activities of camp. He told me about his favorite sports teams, hobbies, and things he liked to eat in the States. He also told me about his family. I didn't realize it before, but his older brother is a young man who was once in my small group with my mom a few summers ago. We still write to each other and video chat from time to time. What I didn't know is that Roma's brother is not doing well. He stopped his studies, isn't working, and left the ministry house he was living in because he wasn't willing to follow the house rules. He now lives on the streets and in the metro. We know this is a common story for many kids who age out of orphanages, but it's a hard reality to accept. The orphanage does not and cannot equip these young people to face life on the outside. It's hard to watch these kids grow and know they are running out of time and that as horrible as their conditions may be in the orphanage, their chances for a good life once they leave the orphanage are slim. 1 in 10. And that's a statistic from almost 10 years ago. With the ongoing war with Russia, I doubt the statistics have improved. 

Roma prayed with us during group time a few times and I witnessed him being kind to kids who were loners or disadvantaged, but I also saw him being rude to other kids and trying to manipulate team members to get something from them. I think he is unfortunately like many kids who are hosted and get into a mentality that Americans are for getting cool stuff. Many of the kids live double lives, trying to impress us (and their host families) to our faces and acting horrible toward each other when they think we aren't paying attention. I don't say that to make these kids seem like bad kids. Honestly, it makes sense that they would cheat and bully each other. I don't think they're trying to be conniving when they're trying to please us, they're just fighting for attention, acceptance, and survival in a brutal environment where few things are certain or consistent.

During our first small group time, the Ukrainian leader in my group explained it was his first time doing camp at this orphanage and asked who has been to camp before. Some of the kids raised their hands. Then one boy, Andre, said “Abi’s done camp here before; she’s been coming here as long as we’ve been here!”

I’ve been going to Gorodenya for 6 years but I didn’t realize that kids like Andre noticed or cared. As I'm given wider and deeper perspective into these kids' lives and how helpless I am to change anything, this moment encouraged me that at the very least presence matters.

After our second day’s lesson, one of the girls in our small group wanted to show me her room and her drawings. One of the drawings was a sign that read “your dreams don’t work unless you do.” I asked her what she dreams about and she said “nothing”. I asked her why and she said because she doesn’t believe in dreams. In very broken Ukrainian I told her about my impossible dreams story, that several years ago I had stopped dreaming because dreams could be painful and disappointing, but God gave me new dreams and one of those dreams was to live in Ukraine- and here I am.  My prayer for her is that God will show her His "impossible" dreams for her.

After the camp day was over we had an evening team leader meeting. One of our new team members shared that she realized we can only be an example and give kids a taste of what they are worth and what life could be. We can’t be these kids' best friend because we will leave at the end of the week and can't promise to be consistently in their lives the way they need.

After the meeting I thanked her for sharing because her words were so important and needed to be heard by the rest of the team. We have potential to cause as much harm as good. Too many times I got close to a child because I wanted the validation of being loved and needed but when camp ended I left that child feeling more abandoned and rejected than they already felt because I was loving them for myself and not for their benefit.

She told me that the children love me, that even before getting to know me she heard about me because the kids would talk about me and ask where I was and save a seat for me next to them. She said coming to camp she thought what was most important was talking with the kids, but she saw that I can’t even speak really well with them but they love me and feel my love for them. It touched me deeply and encouraged me that God is using me and what I’m doing matters.

This kind of ministry isn't one for quick results. In fact, most days it feels like losing. It's not hard to slide into a rut of thinking nothing you're doing makes a difference or will foster real positive change. On returning from camp, I was reminded of these words from Oscar Romero,

"We cannot do everything and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. This enables us to do something, and to do it very, very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest. We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the Master Builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs. We are prophets of a future that is not our own.”

I remember Gary Haugen once saying the work of justice is long and boring. There are beautiful moments of glorious miracles and chain-breaking results, but for the most part it's like living through an ages long winter with only the future hope of spring as comfort.

Before this camp I heard a beautiful story from François Clemmons who played Officer Clemmons on Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. He said after one particularly moving episode Fred closed the show with the same words he always closed his show, "I like you just the way you are. You make each day a special day by just your being you," while looking right at François. After he said those lines Fred walked over to François and François asked, "Fred, were you talking to me?" And Fred replied, "I have been talking to you for years, but you heard me today."

God is like that. And I want to be like that for these kids. It may take years of showing and telling, but someday just might be the day a kid hears us.

Playing a game during English master class

Our small group goofing off

A precious heart

 Craft time!

Having fun but so ready for the snow to melt!

Hungarian Community Camp

Last month my friends from GYProject let me join them for a kids camp in West Ukraine to a Hungarian-Ukrainian community. These people (the "Roma") were born in Ukraine, but they live like refugees. Their history is a long and complicated one that I want to learn more about, but from what I've experienced and learned, these people live off the grid, unrecognized, responsible to, or protected by the Ukrainian government. There is a huge stigma regarding Roma people in Ukraine, and many Ukrainians believe they are lazy, superstitious thieves who have nothing positive to add to their country. My friends have been going to this particular Roma community for several years now, but last month was my first time being able to join them. My friend Andre described the experience so well that I want to share his words...

Not long ago we got back from our trip to Western Ukraine to the village of Veliki Luchki to visit the Roma people. We got to put on a children’s camp and youth meetings, have a doctor see to sick people (many children were fighting a breakout of measles and TB), and spend time talking to our Roma friends in an informal setting for six days.

During camp we had time to hang out with kids, do crafts, games, sing songs and dance. And we got to see and fall even more in love with these kids. The first half of the day we held a children’s program called “Treasure.” We talked with the kids about how everyone has things they value, their treasure. For some people it is work, for others money, for some, family. And God has His own treasure, too. Our goal was to show them that each of them are treasure in God’s eyes. At the end of the program each day a local lady helped make hot lunches to feed each of the children. After lunch we had free time to spend with the kids—we drew together, played different games, made crafts, painted nails, hung out and had fun :)

We also had a special time with the teens and youth where we talked about dreams, callings, purpose, relationships and sex. These meetings helped us get to know and understand them better and to evaluate the things we do on these trips.

Because of people’s donations we bought some necessary medicine and a nurse was able to help those in need. The funds collected was enough to purchase basic medical supplies before the trip and buy other medicine there based on the patient’s actual needs. Some children were suffered from measles and the timing of the nurse coming was much needed.

In addition to the main program we also had time to spend with families, talking and having dinner together with the Roma.

We are so thankful to those who support us, who sacrifice time, money, clothes, prayers and care for these people.

We’ve never visited the Roma during the winter before. Mostly because of difficulty with transport and living on the camp territory in such cold conditions. But we have a deep desire to see the Roma more often and the idea came up of how to make that happen. Support us with your prayers.

We want to share pictures from this trip. Look at the description on each photo, we will try to explain what is happening.

David (in the center) has been a faithful friend for a long time. He interpreted for us every day and helped us lead the program

Visiting David at home. He is 19 years old, married, has two children and is waiting on his third. He treats us to tea and we talk about church, ministry, family, and horses.

Our camp theme was Finding God's Treasure. During this day's program we talked about ancient Egyptian treasures.

The lady on the left is Margarita, the pastor's wife. She cooks hot meals for the kids during camp and throughout the school year

Craft time!

Dance time!

David with his brother Miklola (bottom left) took us for a ride on their horse--even let us drive.

Evening youth gathering. Anyone over 12 is considered youth and people are often married at 15 or 16.

David and Mikola took each child in camp one by one on the last day, and asked them if they wanted to see what God's treasure is...

Throughout camp we lead up to the fact that each of us is treasure in the eyes of God. We had a closed chest on the stage all week and no one knew what was inside. On the last day we reminded each child what was in the chest--a great treasure--and after those words we opened the chest so they could see what was inside. After seeing their own face, David and Mikola explained that each one of us is God's precious treasure.

I don't even know this girl's name, but on the last day she sat next to me and hugged me. I remembered something a friend who worked at Disney once told me- when a child gives you a hug, don't let go until they do. This girl held on to me throughout the whole program. 

This was a difficult experience for me. It was physically demanding and wet and cold, but if you notice in the pictures, our team is dressed way warmer than the kids. Many of the kids only ate a meal because Margarita helped us provide a hot lunch during camp. We all wondered if what we were doing made a different of was actually helpful. Toward the end of camp, my friend Liliya shared with the team that when she asked God how we can possibly change these people's lives, He told her that we can't, but we can invite them to the beginning, the beginning of hope, healing, change. We can't see the end because we are only at the beginning, and we have no idea what wonderful, miraculous lives these kids may go on to lead. So we remain hopeful, and we plan to go back at the end of January to continue building these new friendships and learn how we can best support their needs.

Dwell in the Land

It's a super cliché way to start a blog post, but I seriously can't believe it's October already! September was full of new starts and settling into new routines after summer adventures. One of my favorite things about last month was getting to have several kids visit us in Kyiv. We reunited with kids I haven't seen in 4 years and with some I just met in camps this summer. We celebrated birthdays, shared family meals, had a game night at my apartment, went to church together, and explored beautiful Kyiv. I've been a bit disoriented and lost amid all the changes since coming back to Kyiv, but getting to deepen relationships and spend time with these kids outside of camp reminded me why I'm here. I love getting to take these relationships beyond camp and having the gift of being here and available to continue being a part of these kids' lives.

Yesterday a group of us from HfO went to a nearby village and visited elderly widows and widowers, bringing them food packets and asking them questions about their lives and listening to their stories. Several of these people remember the forced famines of the 1930s and 40s, and fought in WWII. Their grit and fortitude are humbling and I'm thankful they gifted us with their stories. But honestly, I felt like the worst version of myself the whole day. In the van driving to the village, I didn't try to engage my Ukrainian friends in conversation, I just looked out the window and indulged in loneliness and self pity. Once in the village, I felt completely helpless and useless. I couldn't carry packets because I was a girl and there were too many guys available to carry them so it wouldn't have been culturally appropriate, I couldn't speak with the people we were visiting because they couldn't understand my accent and I spoke too quietly for them to hear me even if I found something to say in Ukrainian, I didn't know if it would be appropriate to hug them or hold their hands, I didn't know what questions to ask even through a translator... these were all the excuses running through my mind mixed in with selfishly focusing on feeling cold, tired, and hungry (even though I had warmer clothes and shoes than the people we were visiting and ate breakfast right before we left). I wish I could say yesterday was a one-off, but I have many days, and if not whole days, constant moments like that. Moments when I give up and retreat inside. Moments when I seek to be understood rather than to understand, to be comforted rather than to comfort, to be served rather than to serve, and to be loved rather than to love. The longer I live here the more I see my own insecurities and fears and selfishness blocking me from loving others well.

On days like that I wonder what I'm doing in Ukraine. I could be so much more "helpful" in the States. I love my life here, but it's pretty small. I do so little, and I struggle with being worthy of the trust and support people give me. I was praying about this a few days ago, and God reminded me of Psalm 37, specifically verse 3, "Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness." Psalm 37:3 NASB. This is the same verse He reminded me of 5 years ago every day as I drove to a job I didn't see fitting into any story of significance (spoiler alert: it ended up setting a foundation in my character and in relationships that would make living in Ukraine possible). The same verse he reminded me of when I worked with IJM and felt so small and useless to the amazing work IJM was doing. And I was struck by a deeply simple truth, our purpose, mission, calling, whatever you want to name it, remains the same no matter where we are. Circumstances change but principles remain the same. We are to dwell in Christ and in the land our feet are currently standing on, and we are to cultivate faithfulness as we would a garden, slowly and consistently in the tiny, seemingly insignificant details.