Some thoughts from Ukraine . . .

I'm finally taking a little time to write a few thoughts from my trip to Ukraine. It's so odd because the last time I went to Ukraine I filled up nearly a whole notebook with thoughts, and this trip I came home with nothing. I guess I didn't really obser ve or ponder too much on this trip. I just was doing and it all became so much of reality. . . I mean the work we were doing. It wasn't like, "soak up the experience to remember for years to come," it was just focusing on what I was doing day to day.

We stayed with a family of non-believers. So our "downtime" became our time of greatest responsibilty. The night we arrived in our small village, the bus began dropping off our fellow team members with nice church-families in neighborhoods near the church. When it was down to just Josh, myself, and our interpreter the bus kept driving farther and farther away from the friendly welcome we received at the church. We were told we were being taken to a neighborhood that had not been evangelized and that we would be staying with a family of non-believers. We would be fed, given a place to sleep, shown around the village, etc. by people who were not doing so in the name of Jesus. Not something I was expecting. But I think it's what became the most important part of the trip for us. Two days before we left, the family braved a thunderstorm and a village-wide power outage to come to church with us. Both the husband and wife, who were hard working people and, as I imagined, not given to much emotion cried and waved good bye to us as we left town for as long as I could see them from my window seat.

We spent 5 days doing a Bible camp in a public school. We were told to expect 30 kids per day. We were overwhelmed with numbers over a hundred! We were expecting small wiggly, giggly kids like those that show up to our American VBS's and ended up with kids up to 16 years who were open and interested to hear the about Bible. Josh and I were blessed to be the Bible teachers for the week. We were both brought to tears when we realized many of the children were hearing about Jesus for the first time in their lives.

I loved the women I met for how hard they worked and how little they complained. Everywhere we went the woman of the house prepared a feast for us and it was so humbling how much love was shown to us. I tried to love back. It's hard to do when you're the bumbling American. I wanted to help our host "mom" with chores around the house, but I didn't know her system. I don't know how to pump water from the river in order to do a load of dishes. Or to take something freshly caught from the river and have ready for the morning's breakfast table. I only know how to do things "conveniently" thanks to all the stuff we own. I wanted so bad to show this woman and her family love. I just resorted to saying to it them with my best Russian I could muster, "Yah lublu vahs."

Oh yeah, I missed my kids more than I could have imagined. I kept saying, God, I hope you make this whole trip really worth because it hurts really bad to be away from the kids." And He did. It was so worth it. We returned to find them no worse for the wear. They had a whole set of adventures of their own to tell us about. Riding on tractors, feeding the ducks, nightly trips to the ice cream shop, walking up to the railroad crossing sign . . . the reunion was one of the best feelings I've ever felt, though.

The last night of the journey we were treated to a luxurious stay in one of Warsaw, Poland's finest hotels. And a great walking tour through some of the most beautiful parts of Warsaw. It was nice. It delayed processing some of things that had gone on during the previous two weeks. Josh and I kept referring to those 24 hours as the European honey moon we never took. IT was a nice way to end the trip.

So much more that I could write about . . . but I've worn myself out reliving it all. What a great experience, though.

Three days and counting . . .

We have only three days left before we leave for Ukraine. I think we're set. We're pretty much packed . . .stocked up on Pepto and peanut butter. We've both polished up our testimonies . . . but truth be told we don't know what to expect. I mean what's God doing sending this predominantly stay-at-home mom and busy, never-left-the-country husband of hers out of the country on a missions trip? Life has just been crazy these last few months, this trip pretty much topping the list. I would say at least 99.9% of the people I've told I'm going on this trip have gasped and said with shock and disdain, "What about your boys?" Don't feel bad, you overwhelming majority, I gasp at myself too. I mean, what am I doing? Okay, here's what I'm doing. I love my little boys like I could never have imagined. I want the best for them, in all circumstances. What I've always thought the best to be was to be with them . . .all the time. And I have been. I rarely have left them with sitters or family, even to date my husband or spend nights out with girlfriends. But really what I know in my heart is that above all, "I am my beloved's and He is mine." God wants me to go on this trip . . . I think mostly to support my husband who knew two years ago we would go on this trip. My boys will be in amazing hands while we are away, as well as in the Most Amazing Hands. Two of our dear friends will be staying in Ukraine as the rest of the team returns after two weeks. The wife said to me this week, "What an amazing seed you're planting in your boys. To make sacrifices for God's glory is good." The pain of missing my children for those two weeks and for them to miss me is a huge sacrifice. It will not damage them, though. I want them to know me as a woman who puts God first and I have hope that they will see this through this trip. It gets too easy to live like the world . . . a house, the jobs, the minivan, mattering way more than they should. If I tell Him I'm all His, I have to be ready to go where He wants me to go an do what he wants me to do. I think the boys are going to understand this someday. They'll probably want me to go back after I come home and start smothering them with two-weeks worth of back-logged hugs and kisses. I can't wait to show Aidan the pictures of the children that we gave his toys to, the very toys he picked out to go to children we would meet there. I can't wait to show the kids pictures of people whose names sound "different" to them and then explain that they are our new friends whom we won't ver see, on earth, again. It's an amazing blessing that God has put before us. It's exciting. I can't wait to blog some of the lessons I learned when we return. Dahsveedahnyeh!