I went back to read some journaling I had done for the Ukraine trip I went on this summer. I couldn't finish reading it, for it hurt me too much to do so. I spoke of "shiskas" and newly made friends named "Dima." I spoke of offering all to God and He not requiring all of what I offered. I spoke of not knowing what to do when back in the States. I didn't want to stop writing, for fear that the inaction would close the trip, finally and completely. I feel all of it again, even as I read it. The camp couselor's (Meisha's) last words were "and if we do not meet again on earth, it is in Heaven I shall see you next." But no. Why does the past haunt me? Not like, haunt me as if I had grave sins for which I must do penance, nor haunt me as a mistake I made would haunt me. But, grip me. Remind me that I had forgotten. That I have, not grown numb to God, but to the piece of His greatness that was Ukraine. That I have not let my Amerikanski self upset me more. Oh, I do. I do. I have changed since Ukraine, by the very grace of God. But Achoom and Sasha? And Dima and Julia...Galia, Yasha, Meisha, the ones that bring tears to my eyes because I remember faces...but not the names that were so very ingrained in me. I remember very little of the Russian. And the trip was a catalyst for what God is now doing in my life, I believe. But I remember so little and fear. My teammates. Surely they have moved on. It seems...I wish I could speak to them, a few or one. Perhaps I will. It is strange. I feel that this cannot become what it has become--an experience experienced and laid to rest. I do not know. I do not know.
May God be glorified.

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. 

July 18

We made t-shirts. Got people to sign them. Played River to the river at midnight with the Ukrainian counselors. 

I'm sure some important things happened this day...but, they are not written about here. 

July 16

actually, I'm writing this on the 21st...

I think today we did the Olympic games-very fun and it brought us closer to our Ukrainian teams-Fiesta, Smile, River of Love, and Areishky (Nuts)...

games included:

-pull-a-vehicle

-volleyball, over head and through legs relay

-water balloon throw (at Tim and Meisha)

the American Team

My 5:30 AM thoughts, sitting outside the chapel

Been working on memorizing Psalm 86. It seems very very applicable. 

"Incline your ear, O Lord, and answer me, for I am poor and needy.

 Preserve my life, for I am godly. Save your servant, who trusts in you--you are my God. 

Be gracious to me, O Lord, for to you do I cry all the day.

 Gladden the soul of your servant, for to you do I lift up my soul. 

For you, O Lord, are good and forgiving, abounding in steadfast love to all who cal

l upon you. Give ear, O Lord, to my prayer, listen to my plea for grace. In the day of my trouble, I call upon you, for you answer me...."

I was thinking about it. How strange, the first verse recognizes my poorness, my need. O Lord, pay attention, because I am weak and helpless. It is a recognition of the Lord's mercy and my dependence. Yet the next verse, "Preserve my life, for I am godly"--the only way I can be godly is because in the previous verse, he answered me. I am poor and needy, and I am godly because of God--"you are my God". 

"I call upon you, for you answer me..."--I am poor and needy. You are good and forgiving. Here is my soul. Gladden it once again.

July 15th

So yesterday, we had a finely ground porridge for breakfast, potatoes (boiled) and chicken broth soup for lunch, and noodles with some form of meat-like substance for dinner.

we were kinda tired.

we all went to the river.

we did a talent show-

david f.--double jointed or something

team americanski-a skit making fun of morning excercises

my hip was hurting quite a bit for unknown reasons. 

July 13th

Just woke up, took a shower. It's 6:05. Well, okay, I've been up for nearly an hour. When the sun rises at 4:30 and roosters crow even earlier...

It seems to be going well. Emma and I talked to Alina the other day...she stayed after chapel because she "wants to become closer to God".

Some of the kids know "hello" and "my name is"

Some are very eager to introduce us to this culture. One boy, Dima, is a mess. He's wonderful. He pulls us in and teaches us the song/motto of he camp, gets into mischief, you know.

Food equals: kashi, soup (chicken broth), rice, and salad. Yesterday we got sausage/hot dog/unknown substance on top of the rice!! Maybe that's because for breakfast, we had a tye of porridge--warm milk and about 20-25 grains of rice...hot sweet tea the staple drink.

Went to the river two days ago. We didn't know what to expect--not many of our team wore swim stuff, but the camp needed help watching the kids--80-90 kids on a public beach! There was that incident with Josh...

Last night a group of the American team went downstairs to the chapel and talked and listened to Reid play guitar and played Super Scrabble...until 1 AM.

A group of girls went around pointing at things with Emma and I--they'd say it in Russian and/or Ukrainian and we'd teach it to them in English.

The Other Longest Day

July 11th

The longest day of my life, for real. We lost 8 hours over the Atlantic and other areas...pretty much awake for 32 hours...if you don't count that few hours of "sleep" on the plane.

We ate a fruit salad/coleslaw/green onion thing on the flight from 

the Netherlands to Kiev. I tried very hard to eat it. (mayo and onions and mandarin oranges and apple...)

I cannot believe that we are here. The people seem wonderful, sweet, and patient...

Me, Mrs. Kestner, Cammie, and Brit are in rooms above the chapel. The other girls are in the colorful building across the 

way. The guys are in a 3rd room above the chapel...

                                                     One bathroom.

We had a layover in Amsterdam. Got to see some airport stuff. Saw rabbits in the airport field.

Dinner at camp was rice sprinkled with corn, bread, and salad from cabbage. Snack was a welcome banana.

The Longest Day

July 10th

Flight is boarding for Amsterdam. It's kinda crazy. I'm on the trip. 

I was thinking about Icarus today, that picture I have of unmistakeable beauty, a sunset with a man who, standing at the water's edge, has wings of exquisite fabric. He will not fly, this is certain. There exists a passionate tragedy, a grievous desperation. One cannot be certain that foolishness lacks wonder, but one knows the fate of Icarus. And one cannot be happy. 

still pre-Ukraine

July 6th

There's a great fear in my heart. the trip is in 3 1/2 days. I feel more aware than I've been for the other trips. This one I know I must exhaust myself, must leave it all there, hold nothing back. And I cannot help but already fear "mission trip withdrawal" that most certainly will come when we return.

Dear Lord, I am afraid of failure. I have not trusted Your ways.

Psalm 86:11b "...unite my heart to fear Your name."

A Time to Plant...

Pre-Ukraine

July 4th

Does everyone commemorate their 4th of July experience by tearing up because of Gilmore Girls: Season 1? I'm assuming not, and as I seem one of the last people in the world who would do so...

It's the tragedy of their lives, the worlds' lives. 

It's grief over ideals held as truth, but that being no greater than trash, so much talk.

It's seeing the love as portrayed on the screen and then being horrified that I could want any part of it.

It's hearing the "I love you" but no seeing it.

It's hearing the question "Why would you spend your life serving someone?" and getting the same answer-- "You wouldn't. That's crazy"

The Poet with His Face in His Hands

"You want to cry aloud for your mistakes, but to tell the truth,

the world doesn't need any more of that sound..."

because it has enough of its own to last awhile. 

Ps. 143:8 "Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust. Make me know the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul."