We of this Fury: August 2008

24 August 2008

a rough poem

I didn't realize that my last post about Ukraine was my 100th post...interesting.

A very rough poem about a scene in Gilmore Girls...yes, I'm addicted, but yes, the show makes me frustrated.

She kissed him, the legitimacy of love versus loyalty

splayed in my head, as a butterfly--

pinned, but still fluttering.

She told him not to speak-my mouth opened

closed knowing silence is best before wisdom.

She ran, saying "welcome" she ran away

and of course the sun shone unpolluted.

A shame too, because I wanted only

warehouse light--you know, the warehouses

with trapped sparrows in the rafters?

If her life was like a warehouse, I

would see real love acknowledge pollution--

yet,

the opening and closing of wisdom was

better for meeting me.

08 August 2008

July 23

I'm fading, fading. The trip is become a portrait in my head, one amongst a collection of sights. I am lost, I am lost,I am lost, the glory of God seems to have left.

Is it better to recognize my condition?

Or wold it have been better to "go silently into that good night?"

Why dead and why silently In our weariness, do we dare give the devil a foothold?

He who prowls like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour?

Ah.

We feel the part of weary victors returning from a foreign war. We shut the war out of our minds--it does not engage our entire soul here. We are blind, we are blind!

We fight not against flesh and blood, "but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places." (Eph. 6:12) Do we dare think that whatever weaknesses were discovered across the ocean will not be exploited at home?! How much more so! We are comfortable--how ever little we'd like to admit it. We are weary, let us not fall into laziness. We are weak-the devil can only afford to hit us in our weakness--for too soon have we forgotten that our Saviour says "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor. 12:10)

July 21

Kurt says, "This is the longest shortest trip I've been on" and "the week is as eternity, the days a breath"

Yes, my brother. Those were deep words for 11:30 last night after a long long flight. I reflect so that I may not forget. I write though remembering pains me in its lack of clarity--I am in America. It is too easy, too soon.

I want rice and rusty tacks again. Simplicity and trial. I desire the past to be a part of my future, but not in America. I have hands and feet, send me--But '"Woe is me! For I am lost; I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!"' (Is.6:5)

05 August 2008

July 20

Okay, so I tire of writing about past days. Here is today, and here is where I find myself...

I am on a plane from Kiev to Amsterdam. To my right is a window, to my left sits David F. and then Jon D.

Life goes on and I don't know.

(well, I stepped on a rusty tack the other day-it was unexpected. There was a bit of worry about infection. The anger the other day was like the rusted tack-unexpected and humbling)

Some of the kids:

Dima- I gave my Bible to Dima. He has a Russian one but wants to learn better English. He pleaded with David C. and I to stay. He didn't understand how we could not know if we were coming back to Ukraine or not. (How it hurts! I would have stayed if it were possible and if it were beneficial. I pray that if I ever get a choice like that, I wouldn't selfishly choose to stay if it is merely possible--but that I would choose to stay only if beneficial as well.)The look on his face with that Bible-he wanted to read John 3:16 and Psalm 42...we also read part of 3 John because he thought that 3 John was John 3. There exists no kinder kid. He bought candy on multiple occasions and shared it with the Americans. He was so very generous.

Sergae-The cutest boy ever. He is about 13, maybe? He loves playing basketball and anything else active. He is patient with English-speakers...

Achoom-Good English. He is sweet and desirous of our attention.

Oxana-very quiet, but a good listener

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This is why we came.

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(and I connected more than @ Mexico with kids-is that because I stepped out of my comfort zone, or because of the way the camp was set up? Or perhaps the difference in culture? Any way one looks at it, it was a blessing from God)

Yet, I find myself distracted.