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!

Staring at the sky through barbed-wire and bars for over 400 days has to weigh heavy on any soul, but how much more on that of a child?

Later, I learned Dima had just been released from a juvenile detention center after a 14 month stay.  I saw him hours after he was freed and I had no idea until Andre & Oksana told me outright.  The only indication anything was different about him was his silence. He mumbled a barely audible hello and clammed up after that. In my ignorance, I simply assumed he was a quiet kid.

This is one of many experiences that has hammered home one fact.  No matter how comfortable or normal things might appear to be, growing up in Ukraine is like nothing I’ve ever known.  It comes with problems we’d never expect in America.  Even people, like me, who have lived rough or abnormal lives are not fully prepared for what you’ll find if you really start looking at people here.

Everyone looks normal on the surface, but if you scratch through that thin veneer you’ll always find a story inside.  I know this from personal experience.  I was orphaned when I was sixteen.  Now I was lucky, very lucky to have had people who started walking alongside of me straightaway.  These people met both my physical and emotional needs.

Slight of frame and quick to smile, but without some help, he’s a ticking time bomb.

However, the sad fact for these boys and girls is that they’re only being met halfway.  The government gives them plenty of money every month as long as they hold onto all of their documents but if they lose any of them, they also say goodbye to their pension.  That money is intended for food and rent and other physical necessities but without the proper emotional support, it more often ends up going towards fancy clothes, electronics, or alcohol.

And why should we expect anything different?

Think about any fifteen year old kid you know.  What would happen if you gave them a bunch of money every month, completely checked out of their life, and told them to start living like an adult?  No matter how mature they are, their failure is almost guaranteed.

This is exactly why these kids need some sort of emotional anchor, some way for them to learn how to start really living instead of just surviving.  And that’s what I’ve seen through the leaders at The Shelter and The Haven, two homes that invest in the lives of the graduated orphans.  At least three days a week these leaders spend the day with the kids cooking, studying the bible, playing games, and being a presence in their lives.

These are people committed to being permanent fixtures in the lives of these kids, helping keep them safe and levelheaded when the waves of life threaten to overwhelm them.  They are present through thick and thin, when kids are laughing, crying, or trying to find a tree to hang themselves from.  And it’s not always easy.

And yet, even in the blackest of nights, The Haven & The Shelter are bright beacons of hope in the lives of these kids.

I’ve seen them interact with kids like Viktor (they call him Jim Carrey because he likes to joke so much) who is a textbook problem child.  He drinks, he smokes, and not too long ago he wrapped a metal bar in magazines and beat another kid half to death, leaving him hospitalized.

These are children but they’ve lost their innocence, it’s been violently washed away by the brutal waters their lives have led them through.  Most people have given up on them and many kids have even given up on themselves, content with barely scraping by.  But what a sad excuse for life that is.

What a tragedy that they have been abandoned, not only by their parents, but by their society as well.  And so they sit in a small boat, in the middle of a dark and frightening sea, desperately searching for something to hold onto, something to save them, anything at all.  These kids need emotional support, these kids need love, and most of all they need Christ.

Which is exactly why The Shelter and The Haven exist.  To show these kids the path to freedom from themselves, from their addictions, and from their pasts.  The kind of freedom that only Christ brings, the kind of freedom that you see in a person’s life, even if you only talk to them for five minutes in a mall food court.

Because we’re all captives until He sets us free.

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.”

The opportunity of working with a ministry that is geared specifically toward women has allowed me to see some of the inner workings of Ukrainian culture. And one thing in particular that I’ve noticed has made it completely clear as to why Mission to Ukraine’s crisis pregnancy program is so needed.

Where Are the Men?

It makes sense why it is so important to create a loving community for the women within the program and why those women appreciate it so much. Because if you look closely around the city and you take a second glance at the people on the bus, you might ask yourself the same question: where are all the men?

Marina’s kitchen is one of two rooms in her house, and she knows she is lucky to have space to prepare food for her little one.

Now maybe that sounds a bit dramatic, and of course there are men, otherwise the populous would be in quite a conundrum. But I will say this, in the lives of many of the women who come to Mission to Ukraine for help, the men are often in the background, if they are there at all.

Now I can’t say that this is the case for all people, but after observing the culture for the past two weeks, it has been one of the most prevalent issues that I’ve seen. And coming from a culture that is often sensitive to gender stereotypes and has been working for years to expand societal roles for both women and men, it has become a key aspect of understanding the Ukrainian people and especially the women coming to MTU.

Not Unique

The young mother and her new son and little sister are evidence of this issue. The young woman chose to keep her child, knowing that she would not have money or supplies to care for him, or that she would have anyone there to support her at all.

Another family showed us their bathroom; this shower is shared between ten families.

As I stood in the old barracks (that had electricity only on a good day), home to a new baby and his mom, I realized that though this situation seems almost unbelievable, this woman’s life is not one-of-a-kind. She is not unique in her circumstance; these stories cover both the cities and countrysides of Ukraine.

These women haven’t been pushing their government for more freedom in society. Rather, they’ve been thrown into life, and life has become their responsibility. Ukrainian women are strong, but not just because they want to be, or because they want to prove themselves to the world – they don’t really have a choice.

When you decide to keep your baby after your man leaves, you don’t really have a choice but to get a job and fend for yourself. When you get pregnant at age 20 and your boyfriend goes missing in another country, you don’t really have a choice but figure out your entire life on your own. When your daughter has a child and doesn’t even want to look at it, you don’t have a choice but to take care of it yourself, despite your financial abilities.

Caught in the Cycle

Life has a cruel and unforgiving grip on these women, and they don’t have to prove themselves in order to inherit the responsibilities that this seemingly unbreakable cycle has now inflicted on them.

Each new mother is given baby supplies to get a kick start for her new life. This is just one way Mission to Ukraine brings support and care to the women. The bad news? They're running out of supplies. I believe this is where you can help!

In so many cases women are going through pregnancy, and all the details that come with that, alone. They have no one by their side to offer help, guidance, love, or even education on the subject. Instead of the exciting first ultrasound appointment together, many women are simply making a quick trip to the abortion clinic.

Just recently a law was passed that allowed the husband to actually be in the delivery room his wife.  Before that, she birthed her child on her own.

Even after she has her child, after she’s taken a job and supports her new family and after she raises that family and provides for it, she is still alone. We saw that firsthand when we visited the village of Chudniv, just outside Zhytomyr.

Maria

We walked back off the dirt road, through a rusty gate, and into the dilapidated and dirty home of Maria. She’s 87 years old and the sweetest little babushka you’ll ever meet. She lives in her little home in the back corner of a rustic village.  As she comes to the end of her life, her family is nowhere in sight (That is, of course, until she gets her pension check).

Maria’s hands clutched her walking stick as she stood and prayed for us outside her home.

Maria allowed us to take her picture, and the thing I noticed most about her were her hands. They were the hands of a woman who has spent her life working, providing, caring. And here she is, this precious sister in Christ, alone.

Over and over I’ve heard stories of these women who are forced to pick themselves up by their bootstraps and keep going. I hear stories of situations and circumstance that seem unbelievable, but at the same time, they’re kinds of things that just happen.

The good thing is that many of these stories were told by the women working at Mission to Ukraine. That means that in their time of trouble, in their hour of need, the Lord found them. His hand is working through women like Svetia, Natasha and Alonna and reaching out to women who seem to have no one.

Though Marina (the young mother in the army barracks) seemed to have no one, I was in her home because she had been to Mission to Ukraine, because these women came to her.

This is why the community created at MTU is so important. This is the place where they can receive guidance, education and true, Christ-like love when they need it the most, when they have nowhere else to go.

And the best part of all these stories is always the end: watching the body of Christ work together to share love and support and knowing Christ’s hand is moving.  You can see it in Marina’s eyes when you smile at her baby.

She may be caught in a difficult cycle, but she is no longer facing it alone.

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.

1 – A sort of glitzy space-age European world with discotheques on every corner and neon signs all over the place.

Or

2 – The scene from Monty Python & the Holy Grail where you see the villagers beating mud with sticks.

So imagine my surprise when we got off the plane and I found that, while we certainly weren’t in Kansas anymore, it was mostly normal.  There were crying children, frustrated men and woman waiting in long lines, and advertisements put up anywhere there was a blank space.

You can’t see the chalk outline in the photo but this is where the Shelter kids killed me at Basketball.

Now of course those children may have been crying because I scared them when I said hello, and those men and women were probably frustrated at me because I filled out my immigration form incorrectly, and I couldn’t understand the ads so I started imagining them as pages from a very strange story book.  But it was an airport nonetheless, and they were simply people, and those are two things that are mostly the same the world over.

Eventually we made it out of the airport and into the van taking us to our summer home; Zhytomyr, Ukraine.  Zhytomyr is a larger Ukrainian city and people are everywhere; Babushkas (grandmothers) leading little pupsiks (cute little children) down the sidewalk, construction workers shoveling on endlessly, and strawberry sellers sitting on the street.

This is the local fire station, proudly flying the colors of Ukraine; yellow for the sunflowers and blue for the sky.

As we learned to take taxis, the tram, and even the occasional bus things started to settle in my mind.  And there was one moment when I realized, “This is it.  This place is my home for the next two months.”  I smiled.

I’m working with Last Bell Ministries, specifically with a part of their ministry called “the Shelter.”  The Shelter is a ministry to graduated Ukrainian orphans.  See, if you’re an orphan in Ukraine, you live in an orphanage and they put you through school up until ninth grade.

After that, the government gives you some money and you move out on your own.  So there are a bunch of confused and hurting fifteen-year-olds with nobody to teach them how to live, how to take care of themselves, how to be whole.  So they often turn to drugs, alcohol, prostitution, or even suicide as a result.

The Shelter is a place that hopes to change all that.  They work with these kids for four years after they graduate.  Eating meals with them, cleaning with them, playing games, teaching bible lessons, etc.  Their ministry and mission is to teach these kids what it means to live like a family, how to love, and how to be whole through Christ.

Check out this video to see more of what the Shelter is all about (you can find even more videos on Last Bell’s website).

The first time I went to the Shelter I played ‘Minus Five’ with some of the kids (which is the Ukrainian equivalent of the basketball game HORSE) and lost…badly.  After that, the kids showed me around though I couldn’t understand anything they said except for the occasional, “please” or “American”.

Later we had dinner together and it reminded me of the times I had worked with at-risk youth in Boystown, Chicago.  There’s something about sitting down for a meal together that is familiar even if you don’t know a single word spoken around you.

This is Miroslava, one of the lovely girls that The Shelter ministers to. In true Ukrainian fashion, she refuses to smile with her mouth open in photos.

Through the course of the night, seeing those smiling faces, it was easy to forget that most of these kids weren’t Christians, that statistically, some of them would go out later and get drunk, and that some of them might even prostitute themselves.  It was easy to forget this because, in The Shelter, they are safe and they know it.

This is their place of refuge from the troubles of the world and they have learned to let down their guards here.  And though changes in this kind of ministry are slow it is only because these kids have so far to come, so much to learn, are so slow to trust.  But just because results are slow and the work can be difficult does not mean it isn’t worth doing, quite the opposite is true!

Just thinking back to the smiles on their faces, those brief moments of happiness in a world of hurt, that’s all the proof that I need.  And I think again that this place is my home for the summer and these people will be my family and realize that I am blessed with more than I could have ever hoped or asked for.

Just listen closely and you’ll hear a series of sounds that don’t exist in the English language and smell unfamiliar scents blowing in the wind. While Zhytomyr may be a bustling city similar to the one I came from, six thousand miles and infinitely better coffee separate us.

These beautiful faces are proof that God is alive and active at Mission to Ukraine.

Though we’ve only been here about a week, I feel confident enough to turn my initial assumptions and observations into facts. One fact in particular has given me reason to believe that by the end of the next two months, it will be hard to leave.

That fact is this: the Ukrainian people are some of the most hospitable, welcoming and kind people I have ever encountered. Perhaps it’s in their blood to feed me until I literally have to be rolled out the door, or maybe they can just sense my new found love for borscht. Maybe all Ukrainians aren’t like this or maybe it’s just a beautiful picture of our global faith family loving each other. Whatever the answer is, and I think the last option is probably most true; Ukraine has perfected the art of first impressions.

But, a good first impression should always leave you wanting more. And as I continue to discover new things about these people and their culture, there is certainly more to be had. I am attempting to learn bits and pieces of the rich Ukrainian history in order to get a peek inside the way the people think. I have learned through conversations that poverty and oppression have ruled the country for centuries and that despite their recent independence, traces of Soviet influence still linger.

Despite Ukraine’s recent independence, Zhytomyr is still affected by Soviet ideals.

But even as the new pro-Russian President makes moves that could endanger humanitarian and non-profit work, the folks at Mission to Ukraine have not given up hope. Just walk in the doors and you can see why. Two pillars stand in the entryway, both covered with pictures of childrens’ faces. One pillar is covered with the faces of the disabled children they have all grown to love and care for over the years.

The other pillar is one of life, filled with pictures of children who are alive today because their mothers decided not to have an abortion due to Mission to Ukraine. As I stood and stared at those photographs, I couldn’t help but feel emotionally smacked in the face with the beauty of human life.

In a place where the average woman has six or seven abortions in her lifetime, the sanctity of human life is taken for granted and the ability to control it is grossly misused. But this is exactly the place where the hearts of the women at Mission to Ukraine lie. And this is the place where I will be learning all summer.

Even after spending only a brief period of time discussing plans for the next two months with Natasha, the woman in charge of the crisis pregnancy side of Mission to Ukraine, I can’t wait to see what the Lord has in store.

I have the opportunity to get to know a group of pregnant women who are clients at Mission to Ukraine on a personal level. I will see what their daily life is like and I am confident I will see the Lord provide in unimaginable ways just when He is needed the most.

If this little guy isn’t enough to make anyone realize the beauty of life, I don’t know what is.

I will get to build relationships, make friends and invest in people’s lives. And I will also see women working through one of the hardest decisions they will ever have to make. I will watch them struggle emotionally, financially and maybe even socially with a decision that will affect them and their families. And hopefully I will be a part of bringing even the tiniest ray of hope into their lives.

As the summer continues and I learn more about this organization and the women who are affected by it, I am going to need help. I can only do so much as an English speaking twenty-year old girl in a country where I can’t even pronounce the street I’m living on (yet). Nonetheless, I hope to discover their needs and through you, the readers, to meet them.

So if you need encouragement, if you need a visual aid in knowing that the Lord’s hand really is at work and that His Word truly is alive, just look at these faces. Know that these hearts are beating because He has a special plan in place for all of them.

And know that you can be a part of it.

But, as always, it is the people behind JVP – the global partners and local champions – who have impressed me more than the projects.  And it’s their faith and perseverance that are making this transformation possible.  To read more about what’s been happening in Kager, take a look at these stories.

Joining the Jubilee!

While Barry and the interns prepare for a summer in Ukraine, I’m preparing for my second trip to Kenya. There’s a lot to look forward to!
Click here to read this article…

Traveling by Your Taste Buds

If you ever find yourself wondering where you are in the world, just look at your plate!
Click here to read this article…

The Village

In such a small, tightly-knit community, I didn’t have to look far to see that Kager is a special place!
Click here to read this article…

Photo Gallery: Dream Come True

For the first time ever, Kager’s dream to open a secondary school is finally a reality.

Click here to see this photo gallery…

Determined

A glimpse into the lives of two students poised to make a difference in their village…

Click here to read this article…

Culture Guide: Farming Like a Kenyan

See how a city girl got her hands… and feet… dirty.

Click here to read this article…

A New Leaf

Who would have thought that onions could change a life in Kager?

Click here to read this article…

JOY in the Kitchen

Why a kitchen in Kager might be one of the most exciting places around.

Click here to read this article…

In David’s Words

Time for a chat with Apostle Dave!

Click here to read this article…