The idea was to give donated digital cameras to children so that they could show us their perspective on the world.  As a pilot run, we gave a camera to a feisty little six year old named Marika (hence the name of the project).  Her “assignment” was to capture Mission to Ukraine’s summer camp from her point of view.

On our upcoming trips to Haiti, India and Cambodia we will continue to give cameras to children so that we can post their work here on World Next Door.

But for now, it’s time to kick off our inaugural Marika Project Photo Gallery…

 

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We are continuing to collect gently used digital cameras for future Marika Project locations.  If you would like to donate yours, please fill out the form below.

Camp is family for kids with disabilities. Normally, these kids live isolated lives, unable to even leave their homes. But at camp they gather around tables filled with friendly faces. They are welcomed into the family of God. And this experience changes their lives.

Sasha, whose life has been changed forever at MTU's camp.

Here is a glimpse of a few kids who were changed by being part of this family.

Sasha

Sasha is 11 years old and lives with muscular dystrophy. He is a sweet boy despite losing his mobility in the last few years. Not long ago he ran around like any other kid his age, but now he is confined to a wheelchair.

One day counselors asked the kids in Sasha’s small group what they wanted more than anything. Sasha’s answer: to walk once more.

At camp Sasha isn’t alone in this struggle. At camp he can express his fears and frustrations to understanding leaders and kids who have the same problems. And this year at camp, Sasha gave his life to God. Now Sasha will never be alone again.

Oleg

Oleg smiling wide as he participated in the camp's Special Olympics.

Oleg also left his solitary life in the village to come to camp. But for him, this was an even bigger deal.  For 16 year old Oleg, camp was the first time he had ever even left his village. Ever.

Oleg has a mental disability. And because he has never been in a group of kids before, he hasn’t learned appropriate group behavior. Oleg brought us all a lot of laughter and a few moments of frustration as he slowly learned how to interact with others. Sometimes from across the room I heard his joyful whistling or his incessant cry of “Mama!”

As camp progressed Oleg learned how to sit through a Bible lesson quietly and join in during games. He spent time around positive male figures, something missing from his life in the village. Oleg went from being withdrawn and fearful to sharing smiles and laughter with new-found friends. At camp he traded isolation for being part of a family.

Nastya

Another great kid I met at camp was Nastya. Nastya is a smart and kindhearted girl. Due to her advanced muscular dystrophy, Nastya is wheelchair bound and cannot communicate verbally. Instead, she communicates by pointing at letters on a chart and spelling out words.

A boy enjoying craft time, a treat for kids who don't have this opportunity often.

At camp, Nastya was surrounded by people who took the time to get to know her via this letter chart. Camp was the kingdom in action for Nastya, because she was valued and understood there. She joined in on small group discussions, games, and made new friends, despite her disability.

“Proud of You”

On one of the last nights at camp, Pastor Dima finished the evening session by asking each parent to find their child. He asked them to put their arms around their son or daughter, to look them in the eyes and to share words of affirmation with them. The room was soon filled with moms and dads embracing their kids.

A meal at camp through which MTU's staff works hard to provide balanced nutrition for the kids.

Tears streamed down every face as parents took the time to speak words like “I am sorry,” “I love you,” and “I am so proud of you!” to their children. I felt my own eyes fill with tears as I watched children, some for the first time, experience what it means to be part of a loving family.

For kids with disabilities, belittled by the world and isolated from humanity, Mission to Ukraine’s summer camp is otherworldly. At camp they are part of a community that loves, understands, and accepts them just as they are.

I think they would, with me, echo the words of an old church hymn; “I’m so glad that I’m part of the family, the family of God.”

My day began with a ride to the end of the tram line. As I walked up to the dilapidated “dorm” where Tanya lives, children and stray dogs ran through a dusty yard. Upon entering the building my eyes roamed over dressers, cabinets, and various odds and ends stuffed throughout the hallways. I climbed a steep stairway to reach the second floor where my hosts awaited me.

The last stop on the tram where my day with Tanya began.

A light knock and the door was opened wide by Mila. Her face held a welcoming smile and she excitedly motioned my translator and me in. Mila lives with her wheelchair bound daughter, Tanya, who has cerebral palsy. Tanya’s cousin also lives with them, and the three share a home in the “dorm.”

The dorm is an old building that once housed local factory workers. The people there share a community bathroom and kitchen with the rest of their floor. Tanya’s home consists of two small rooms, one of which all three women sleep in every night. The room I walked into was crammed with chairs, couches, cabinets, a table, and a small refrigerator.

We began our day with a walk around the “neighborhood.” Now, before you envision long winding sidewalks, grassy lawns, and cul-de-sacs let me explain the location.

The dorm where Tanya and her mother live.

We walked by crumbling buildings that used to be some of the finest factories in the region. We trudged down cracked sidewalks and roads that were once pathways for droves of laborers. We stopped to sit by a formerly beautiful fountain, now a cement trash pit.

But Tanya didn’t seem fazed by her neighborhood’s appearance. She didn’t seem put-out by the fact that her wheelchair could barely be pushed along the rutted path. Instead she smiled and laughed as she shared this piece of her life with me.

After our journey we went back to the dorm for lunch. Mila came down and gathered three strong men from the dorm to carry Tanya up the steep stairway. As the men lifted Tanya up the stairs I realized how important community is to Tanya and her mother. Without community, Tanya wouldn’t be able to leave her home.

Mila shared over dinner this need for strong community. Some of the people in the dorm are helpful and understanding of Tanya’s disability. Men are willing to carry Tanya up the stairs as I had witnessed.

But some are not. One woman even forbade her son from helping Tanya. My mind reeled. How could someone be so inconsiderate? But Tanya and Mila didn’t seem to harbor any hard feelings toward them. They persist in living out God’s command to love your neighbor as yourself.

One of the abandoned factories in the “neighborhood.”

In fact, Tanya told us about a girl in the dorm who comes over and makes fun of Tanya because of her disability. When people ask Tanya why she allows the girl to come over, Tanya replies, “We’re all sinful. Christ forgave me, I’ll forgive her.”

At one point during dinner Tanya asked me a question that I found rather strange. “Who are your favorite people? Pretty people or ugly people?” I was taken off guard and said something about how I didn’t have a preference.

“Good,” said Tanya, “my mom and I like all people too.” Mila agreed and added, “Outward appearance doesn’t matter. They were all created in the image of God.” Here I was sitting in a tiny, little dorm eating a humble meal with people who were speaking and living the truth of Christ.

I learned a lot from Tanya that day. She spends her life dependent upon the help others give her. She could be resentful and angry about the life she has been given. But instead she focuses on the most valuable thing on this earth. People.

Tanya working on some crafts we brought for her.

That’s why the dilapidated buildings and crumbling sidewalks bothered me but didn’t bother Tanya. Tanya was focused on spending time with me. She couldn’t care less if her neighborhood meets Better Homes and Gardens’ standards.

By the time I left the next morning, I no longer felt any sadness about Tanya’s living conditions. Tanya is rich in the kingdom of God. She understands the value of people, something I too often forget.

Instead of running around all day doing meaningless things, she is focused on building the community of God. It doesn’t matter that Tanya spends most of her days at home in the dorm. She is busy building God’s kingdom and seeing the value in His children all around her.

And what could be more meaningful then that?

A raised finger, a lifted eyebrow, a shrug… Each gesture is pregnant with meaning and interpreted by our brains in the blink of an eye.

But imagine for a moment what life would be like if you couldn’t control your gestures.  Imagine if something as simple as a wave of your hand took a few seconds of complete concentration…

People would have difficulty understanding you.  You would appear strange and different.  And one of the most crucial aspects of your life would be drastically changed: interpersonal communication.

Dima, mentally healthy but physically disabled.

Well, for many people with cerebral palsy, this is exactly what life is like.  Misunderstandings, frustration, pain…

But for one young man at the Romaniv Disabled Boys Orphanage, being misunderstood has led to more than just frustration.  For Dima, being unable to communicate could very well cost him his life…

Another

If you’ve been reading World Next Door for a while, you’ve heard all about the Romaniv Disabled Boys Orphanage and the incredible story of Peter, an orphan there who was adopted by a wonderful Ukrainian family.

With companions that cannot speak, Dima will never receive the social, emotional and mental development he needs.

Peter, a mentally healthy boy with muscular dystrophy, was kept in the severely disabled section of the orphanage.  Even though he could think and read and learn, he was trapped in a prison of maltreatment.  There was little hope for him until a brave family of Christ followers here in Zhytomyr and a group of dedicated financial sponsors from the U.S. got together to rescue him.

But Peter was not the only boy in his position.  There was another.

His name is Dima.  And he is still trapped at Romaniv.

Dima

As I mentioned above, Dima has cerebral palsy.  Because of a traumatic event (e.g. lack of oxygen, blood toxicity, shaken baby syndrome, etc.) that happened to him early in his brain’s development, he has a very hard time controlling his body.

His arms occasionally flail around, he has difficulty walking, and often he simply can’t quite get his body to do what he wants it to do.

But looking into Dima’s eyes, you can see the truth.  Dima is mentally healthy.  Just like Peter, he can think, grow and learn.

Unfortunately, his caretakers don’t understand this.  As I’ve mentioned before, they have no training in working with the disabled.  They see his tightly clenched fists, they see the drool on his chin, and they assume that he is stupid.

Romaniv is improving, it will take more than toys to help Dima become fully healthy.

They don’t hug him.  They don’t teach him.  They don’t even speak to him.

But Dima is far from stupid.  With a little consistent education, Dima could make some incredible leaps in his development.  He could learn.  He could grow.  He could live.

After attending Mission to Ukraine’s summer camp last year, he was like a new person.  He was alert, energetic and talkative.  At camp he laughed and played with the American volunteers, he talked on the phone with his best friend Peter and he told Oksana his heart’s desire:  “I want to go home too.”

Far From Home

Instead, he went back to Romaniv.

Dima went back to a place where he is ignored.  Back to a place where nobody talks to him.  Back to a place where his only companions are boys with terribly debilitating mental and physical impairments…

One year later, being ignored has taken its toll.  Now he is easily distracted.  His responses are sluggish. Like a shipwreck survivor coming back to civilization, he seems a bit like he’s in another world.

And while physically his needs are being met, in a very real way his life is in danger.

Dima learning the story of baby Moses in the basket. It’s both exciting and heartbreaking to see his capacity for growth.

If he continues to be left in an environment like Romaniv, Dima will sink further inwards.  Without consistent, meaningful interactions with people, his emotional isolation could become permanent.

It breaks my heart to think that this sweet, gentle young man could spend the rest of his life trapped in an unnecessary prison, lacking the love and affection he so desperately needs to grow.

Hope

Thankfully, there is hope for Dima.

With the right ingredients, he too can be adopted by a Ukrainian family.  But before I tell you what those ingredients are, I’d like you to watch this video and meet Dima yourself!

(Sorry about how distracted I am in the video.  As you can hear, it’s hard to focus in such a noisy place…)

Finding Dima a Home

So what would it take to get Dima adopted like little Peter?  How can we rescue this beautiful young man from the terrible conditions he is living in now?

Well, as I said above, it will take three crucial ingredients.

First, of course, it will take God’s powerful hand.  With Peter, the unbelievable became possible in less time than I could have ever imagined.  This time, I won’t let my faith be so puny.  If God can really move mountains (Matthew 17:20), then it will be no sweat for him to find Dima a home.

Dima needs a home. Will you step up to help that become a reality?

Second, we will need a Ukrainian family to step up to the call.  This is not an easy thing to ask for.  A family adopting Dima will need to be gentle, compassionate, patient and secure in their identity.  In this culture, having a disabled child is still viewed as a great dishonor.  And as we’ve seen already, this city is not exactly an ideal place for the disabled to live.

Third and finally, we will need to find financial sponsors to help cover the $300 a month that Dima’s new family will need to take care of him.  And here’s the deal: I want you to be one of those sponsors.

Through it all, we will need to pray… To pray that hearts would be softened.  To pray that the money and family would be found.  And to pray that the kingdom of God would move.

Will You Step Up?

So there you have it.  The most explicit call I’ve ever made for you to step up and get into the game.

You’ve read all about the Romaniv Orphanage.  You’ve rejoiced with me about Peter’s adoption.  Now it’s time for you to act… and play an integral part in the rescue of one beautiful young man that needs your help now.

Will you pledge your finances?  Will you commit to spread the word?  Will you pray?

If so, sign up below.  And let’s find Dima a home!

It was another hot day and I was honestly not motivated to even move, much less head out into the city to meet someone. But when Oksana offered to take me along on a home visit, I knew I had been offered an incredible opportunity. So I ignored the sweat dripping down my face and walked with Oksana up the street to meet Natasha.

A soviet style apartment.

Natasha is twenty years old, married, and has a baby on the way. She and her husband live with her parents because of her paralyzing disability which leaves her wheelchair bound. Her mother shares the same disability, so her father spends his days taking care of them both.

Natasha and her father pose for a picture.

It didn’t take long to arrive at the Soviet style apartment where Natasha resides. Her father wheeled her up the rutted pathway to a bench where Oksana and I sat down. He left us women to chat and Natasha’s bright smile and easy manner made me feel immediately at ease.

Natasha’s bright smile demonstrated her joy at having Oksana and I visit. Natasha does not have the luxury of walking up the street to meet with friends. And city transit is no help to those in wheelchairs. There are no ramps on any of the trams, trolleys, or buses here. Because of this Natasha spends most of her time at home in her family’s small apartment.

As the afternoon progressed we decided to all head up the street to MTU. As we neared the mission I realized what a beacon of light this ministry is in such a dark situation. With her brown eyes full of life, Natasha shared that she started participating in MTU’s ministries at age 15.

Natasha got her first Bible at an MTU camp. She came to know Christ at camp and was baptized there. She has also has gone to MTU’s classes for years and looks forward to any chance she has to be there.

One of her favorite activities at MTU is art. Natasha loves drawing, painting, and all the other creative activities MTU offers.

A ramp-less curb, one of many obstacles for someone wheelchair bound.

It was through talking with Natasha that I began to understand why MTU means so much to people here. MTU represents a taste of independence and acceptance for those with disabilities. When Natasha is here, she’s just another normal adult woman. She hangs out with friends and learns valuable lessons that help her grow in her faith.

Near MTU we came to a busy intersection and crossing the street proved to be a difficult feat. There were no ramps on any of the curbs. As we searched for an incline in the curb my heart broke. I realized that this ramp-less curbside represents a mentality, the mentality of apathy and ignorance. As long as people like Natasha are sequestered away out of sight, no one has to think about their responsibility to “do unto others.” Curbs without ramps are a demonstration of turning a blind eye to those in need.

Natasha faces these obstacles daily. She has to be lifted over curbs, pulled through potholes, and carried up steep stairways. And she’s not alone. I have met numerous people like her, who struggle every day just to get from place to place.

All it takes is sitting on a bench and having a conversation with someone like Natasha to open your eyes.

I cannot revamp the city of Zhytomyr to be more wheelchair friendly. I cannot get rid of all the curbs without ramps, pothole ridden sidewalks, and the world’s apathy toward such problems. And neither can MTU. But the people here are finding ways around these obstacles. They are making sure that girls like Natasha get out of the house, experience life, and meet others with the same problems.

Today as I begin another day here I realize even more how the people at MTU are truly living out the prayer “your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” They are, every day, building ramps on the curb sides of life. My hope is that you too will start creating your own ramps. Check out the next steps below for some practical ways to do so.

Peter, an orphan with muscular dystrophy at the terrible Romaniv Disabled Boys Orphanage, was adopted by none other than the family that hosted me while I was in Ukraine. Even cooler (for me at least), was the fact that the adoption was made possible by financial sponsors from the U.S., many of whom were readers of World Next Door!

The Story Begins

I first wrote about the Romaniv Orphanage back in April of 2009 (click here to read the article). A couple of weeks later I introduced Peter through another article (click here). Then, within two months, I had the pleasure of announcing his adoption by Yuri Levtchenko and his family (click here).

The whole story of Peter’s adoption is recapped in this video we produced for WND’s first anniversary celebration:

It was a beautiful homecoming. A powerful tale. But it turns out that the story was far from over.

So here, as they say, is the rest of the story…

An Incredible Year

The original arrangement for Peter’s adoption by Yuri’s family was a temporary one. Peter would live with them for a year, followed by an evaluation by the state government.

Peter with one of his new sisters. She’s hilarious…

Even though this deadline loomed on the horizon, nothing could hide the beauty and joy of his homecoming. For a year at least, Peter would be safe.

And what a year it was… For the first time in a decade, Peter was living in a home. He had a family. A mother, a father, siblings! Nobody was beating him. Nobody was yelling at him. Peter was being loved.

Peter’s new brothers and sisters accepted him immediately. They included him in their games, watched movies with him and laughed… a lot.

Ira, Peter’s new mother, gladly stepped in to fulfill the maternal duties that Peter had never experienced. She bathed him, dressed him and loved him as if he was her own. All the while, Yuri carried Peter back and forth from his room, drove him around town and taught him things like any good father would.

Peter’s new family!

Of course, Peter still had to deal with many of the psychological ramifications of being discarded and abused, and this was a constant struggle for his parents. The first time his family brought him to MTU for classes, he wept uncontrollably, thinking that he was being abandoned again. For a child as scarred as Peter, recovery would be a long road.

In time, however, his emotional wounds did begin to heal. He began to smile. To laugh. As his family held him and fed him and played with him, Peter’s life finally began to change.

An Unexpected Turn

But things were not idyllic forever. At the end of the year, the state government performed their evaluation. After seeing Yuri’s small house and his seven children running all over the place (eight if you count Peter), they decided that Yuri only wanted to adopt Peter for the pension money he would receive for Peter’s disability. Their hearts were hardened and nothing could convince them of the truth.

Peter and his sisters. They adore him…

As part of the evaluation, these officials visited Romaniv Orphanage to see the living conditions there for themselves. However, because the orphanage staff didn’t want to be embarrassed, they only allowed the state officials to see the inside of one room – a nicely furnished conference room used solely for visiting guests.

After seeing this sugar-coated image of the orphanage (and after stumbling through a lot of bureaucratic inefficiency and lost paperwork), the state officials declared that the living conditions were far better for Peter at Romaniv than at Yuri’s home. Then they made a decision that absolutely baffled anyone who knew the family.

They decided that until further paperwork went through and until all the competing bureaucracies sorted themselves out, Peter would have to go back to Romaniv.

Everyone who knew Peter understood that this would shatter his trust forever. It would be unspeakably devastating. But the decision had been made. One year after leaving Romaniv Disabled Boys Orphanage, Peter was forced to return.

Numb

I remember hearing this news for the first time. I was shocked. What would this do to Peter’s new foundation of hope? Isn’t being abandoned again the one thing he has always feared? Would Peter ever trust again?

Peter’s youngest sister. Absolutely adorable!

I admit that I began to feel a sense of numb helplessness about the whole situation. I thought this story already had a happy ending… How could this happen?

But for Yuri, Peter’s new father, numb helplessness never entered into the equation. For him, the whole situation boiled down to one simple fact: “My son needs me. I will not abandon him.”

So, in a move that left the jaws of the state officials on the ground, Yuri did the only thing he could think to do. He moved into Romaniv Orphanage with Peter.

He didn’t know how long he would be living there. He didn’t know how it would end. But for a dedicated father whose son was in need, Yuri didn’t even think twice.

In a country where conforming to the norm is often valued above all else, Yuri’s bold move put a lot of pressure on the state officials. Fearing a public spectacle, the officials quickly “found” the lost paperwork, attained the correct signatures and finally allowed Peter to return to his rightful home.

Although his family is far from wealthy, Yuri cannot help but throw a feast any time he has guests!

After three days, Peter was once again taken out of Romaniv. This time, however, something was different. This time, Peter’s adoption was permanent.

On April 30th, 2010, Peter came home… For good.

A Glimpse of the Kingdom

The other day I had the chance to have dinner with Yuri, Ira and the kids. We laughed and played and talked. We ate and ate and ate.

And as I looked across the room at the wide, beautiful smile on Peter’s face, I knew that I was being given a glimpse of the kingdom of God.

In the banquet of the kingdom, the broken of the world are honored guests. The outcast and forgotten are sons. And there sat Peter. A full tummy. A clean body. And eyes that sparkled with joy.

Peter is home now. Though his body is weak and he may not have much longer to live, he will spend the rest of his days wrapped in the arms of a loving family.

And when he does some day leave this broken world, he will be well used to the phrase he hears soon after.

“My beloved son… Welcome home.”

MTU’s new playground is a beautiful place for kids to play!

The commissioning was great.  One of the classes of disabled children put on a little skit, we sang songs, there were snacks… But one of the coolest things happened when I met a little girl named Marika.

Before the ceremony began, I was goofing off with a few of the kids; doing magic tricks, taking pictures, making silly faces… At one point, I impulsively decided to let one of the little girls use my camera.  I put the strap around her neck, showed her which button to push, and let her snap away.

To my surprise, she seemed to know what she was doing.  She was framing pictures well, reviewing her shots after she had taken them… she was a natural!

Marika (right) with her classmates before the ceremony.

Her name, as I found out later, is Marika.  She is six years old.  She was born with a malignant tumor in her head, causing her to lose vision in her left eye.  Although the tumor is now gone, the doctors say she must always live with the chance that it could return.

It’s a sad story, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at her.  Marika’s playful smile is contagious. Her energy and life is evident in the way she runs and laughs and plays.  Marika is still a six year old girl, and no disability can keep her from living that out.

After the ceremony, Marika ran up to me and said “Photografia!”

I thought she wanted her picture taken, so I lifted the camera to my eye.

“Nyet, nyet, nyet…” she said with a smile, and held out her hand. She wanted to take the pictures.

What else could I do?  I put the strap around her neck and watched as she snapped more photos.

One of Marika’s photos. It’s hard not to smile when she’s the one taking the picture!

As Marika walked around the new playground taking pictures of people, I was struck with an idea.  What if she had a camera of her own?  What if Marika could take pictures of her life?  Of her world?

Then my imagination started running a little wild.  What if a bunch of the kids at MTU’s upcoming summer camps had cameras?  What if they documented the camps from their perspective?  That would be an awesome way to show just how powerful their summer programs can be!

And of course, within seconds, it already had a name… The Marika Project!

Another shot by Marika. I’m telling you. This girl has a gift!

It’s a very do-able idea.  All it will take is a few donated digital cameras to get it started.

But gee… Where in the world could I find a bunch of used digital cameras? (That’s sarcasm by the way…) 

If you’re anything like me, you’ve got an older digital camera collecting dust in your closet right now.  Would you consider giving it as a gift to Mission to Ukraine?

With your help, we can get cameras into the hands of Marika and her friends, we can give them an opportunity to express themselves, and we can show off the fantastic work of MTU in a brand new way.

I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to see the look on Marika’s face when she holds her very first camera…

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If you would like to participate in the Marika Project, please sign up below.  We’ll be in touch with you soon with more details.

Beads are often used to create trees like this that MTU can later sell to support their ministry.

When I first saw how excited the kids were when the beads came out I thought, “ok what’s the big deal about beads?” I have helped out with numerous VBS’s back home with some really intricate crafts, and I have never seen kids get this excited over something as simple as beading. But when I watched these kids I realized something. These are more than just beads. These small, round, plastic objects are instruments of God.

Sasha

Take for example a girl I met named Sasha. As class began Sasha was not very engaged in the activities. She seemed quite shy and didn’t say a whole lot. She struggled to communicate well verbally and had to be coaxed along during the class.

But when the beads came out, she lit up. I had the joy of helping her with the bracelet she was making and I watched as this simple task transformed her attitude. No longer was she scared, shy, and unresponsive. She was sitting with me, a stranger who speaks English, smiling, laughing, and showing me her handiwork.

Tanya hard at work on her bracelet.

Now it would have been easy to look at the bracelet she made and see it for what it is in the simple objective sense, just a string with some beads on it. But to Sasha, it’s infinitely more. And as I looked at what my newly made friend had created I saw something beautiful, a piece of God’s kingdom on earth.

Many of the kids that come to MTU cannot express themselves in the same ways as you and I. They may not be able to articulate with words clearly or stay attentive to lessons long. But by making a bracelet, someone like Sasha has the joy of saying something beautiful through her creativity.

Dexterity

Of course, beads are not just a creative tool.  They also teach the kids dexterity.

This was something I witnessed in the life of Tanya. Tanya’s coordination wasn’t the greatest. But even though it took her longer then a lot of kids to make her bracelet, she had the patience to carefully string each small bead.

Through something she saw as fun and exciting, she was gaining invaluable agility and coordination skills.

One of the many smiles at Romaniv Orphanage.

Beads at Romaniv

But the kids at MTU are not the only ones who benefit from bead time.

Before I ever got the chance to head out to Romaniv Orphanage I was told that the first thing the boys ask when you arrive is “do you have the beads?!?!” Sure enough, after songs, story time, and games, out came the beads and out came the smiles on every boy’s face. Some of the boys clapped their hands; one boy even grabbed my arm in jubilation!

Placed before them on the table was a little plate full of beads, and in their hands was a string. Simple objects. Yet objects that bring joy, learning, and creativity.

A Limited Resource

Unfortunately, beads are a limited resource and this resource is running low. Right now, Mission to Ukraine needs your help to keep them from running out!

A colorful beaded tree resting on a shelf in Romaniv.

Be a part of this kingdom work. Hop into your car, drive up the street to a nearby store, and pick up a tub of beads. Then send them to MTU’s headquarters in Indiana (see the Next Steps for more info).

Whether your beads end up in the hands of an orphan boy at Romaniv or a kid attending a class at MTU, they will be added to the colorful mosaic of beads God has created among the disabled of Zhytomyr.

Something Bigger

Maybe beads are just small, round pieces of plastic with holes in them… But maybe they are part of something much bigger.

The world we live in is often unfair, confusing, and frustratingly complex for those with disabilities. But there is something beautiful in the simplicity of these colorful beads and the joy they bring to God’s children.

How is it that I find myself in this place? How did a college student from Moody Bible Institute, born and raised in America, wind up listening to a “babushka” chattering as evening falls?

The sun setting in Zhytomyr out the window of my new home.

Prior to coming here, the furthest I had traveled was over the border into Mexico. Beyond that I have zero experience in international travel. I speak one language and get hopelessly confused when trying to find countries on a globe. And yet, here I am, sitting in Zhytomyr, Ukraine.

This crazy adventure all started one day in March when I got a phone call from World Next Door with the cheerful announcement “You’re going to Ukraine!” I must admit, with the credentials I just listed above, I was a little shocked. And honestly, I was slightly terrified. I knew I was standing on the brink of something big, and deep in my adventurous heart I knew I could never refuse.

The entrance to Mission to Ukraine’s center where I will be going every morning.

Fast forward two months to my team and I boarding three flights and finding our way to Kiev, Ukraine. As I stepped out of the airport in my sleep deprived state, I smiled to myself. There I was, standing on Ukrainian soil, off to encounter the kingdom of God in a new place.

As we drove down the streets in our hot, stuffy van, I tried to keep from drifting into slumber and attempted to read signs and drink in the sights of the city. Honestly, this was a humbling moment.

Here I am in a place where I have no ability to communicate, navigate, or really contribute much of anything. I have come in faith, and in faith I will have to continue. I knew from that moment on I would be living each day by trust, trust in my hosts, and ultimately trust in God.

My very important Ukrainian dictionary and map of Zhytomyr.

My time here so far has been a whirlwind of meeting amazing kingdom-minded people, getting acquainted with the city, and witnessing firsthand the work of God among the overlooked and oppressed. I have come to Zhytomyr to learn from those who work at MTU and from the people whose lives are being transformed by this work.

I will be focusing on MTU’s work with the disabled in Zhytomyr and I have been blessed with the opportunity to tag along with the folks at MTU as they love on these kids. Already I’m blown away by their humble hearts and willingness to dedicate their lives to loving those who are, by the world’s standards, unlovable. I will also get to interact with those who have disabilities so that I can begin to understand what their lives are like.

Some of the kingdom work I have already witnessed first hand.

During the week MTU has classes and therapy for kids with disabilities at their center. And every Friday a group from MTU piles into a van and drives an hour away to the Romaniv Orphanage for disabled boys where they spend time ministering to the boys. I can tell already that there are stories here, stories that are just waiting to be told. I can’t wait to witness them, and to share them with you.

So, get ready for a summer that I believe is going to profoundly change my life and hopefully yours. My heart breaks for a group of people who have been marginalized and virtually ignored. So join me this summer as we seek to understand what God is doing and wants to do in a city called Zhytomyr.