(Note: this blog was started on August 3rd and is
just now being finished and posted. Due to the length, I’m going to separate it
into a few different segments. Enjoy!)
I’m sitting in the Heathrow Airport in London and am finally
finding time to blog about our last month of ministry in Ukraine. The time flew
by and it’s unbelievable that we’ll be arriving in Dublin, Ireland tonight for
our third month of ministry.
I don’t even know where to start. God did a lot this past
month and I am continually in awe that He has blessed me with this opportunity
to work alongside and love His people around the world.
As I mentioned before, we were working with a ministry
called Jeremiah’s Hope in a little village in Ukraine close to the town of
Ivankiv. The ministry was founded by Andrew and Jenny K., (who both
independently started children’s homes for teens coming out of orphanages
before they met and got married.) They now have two young kids, Abby (about 2
years old) and Sophie (about 4 months old) who we got to babysit a few times
during the month – they’re adorable!
The name Jeremiah’s Hope comes from the verse Jeremiah 29:11
which reads, “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the
Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a
future.’� This is the HOPE and TRUTH they try to instill in the
hearts of all the kids they come in contact with. They purchased property a few
years back that they use for multiple camps throughout the summer and during
the year as well in order to encourage youth from all different backgrounds.
They do camps for missionary kids, teens from the two houses they started, kids
from the local villages, children in orphanages, kids from social services, etc.
When we arrived they were in the middle of the social
services camp week; there was a team from Holland, some women from Texas (the “mom
squad�), and a few interns from Texas serving there. We were told that this was
the hardest week of camp they would experience all summer. These kids came from
some pretty rough backgrounds and would be going back to the same places after
one short week at camp. We heard story after story about their lives and were
left in awe at the brokenness they experience on a daily basis. Many of them
came from poverty-stricken homes with alcoholic parents who barely cared about
them or even wanted them; others were forced to take care of their younger siblings
because no one else would; others were being physically and/ or sexually
abused.
One sixteen-year old girl was getting in the van to go to
camp as her younger sister, only four years old, came running outside crying
and pleading to take her along. “They’re going to kill me if you leave me
here,� she said, speaking of her alcoholic and abusive parents. Needless to
say, they let the four-year old come along.
Another boy at camp had a challenging story of his own. A
few years ago he had been hiding in a barn at his house with his younger
brother when a drunk man came by and dropped a cigarette in the hay. The barn
caught on fire and the boy tried to get out with his brother, but his brother
was too scared to leave and ended up dying in the fire. His mom reminds him
every day that his brother’s death is all his fault and that she wishes he
would have died instead of his brother. He is stricken with guilt, 
shame and
defeat on a daily basis.
These are just a few of the countless stories we heard about
these precious children. It was and continues to be deeply disturbing to hear
how these kids are treated; they are so young, so pure, so innocent… they
don’t deserve this. I wanted to just scoop them all up and take them away
somewhere; I wanted to erase their pain and make it all better. But I couldn’t.
All I could do was play with them, hug them, PRAY for them, and tell them how
precious, beautiful and LOVED they are… by all of us and especially by GOD. They
were all given Bibles, teddy bears, taught about the Father’s love and truth, encouraged,
and cared for as much as possible… but then we had to let them go.
We were debriefing the experience later on and I was having
a hard time knowing how I should even feel. I was deeply troubled by what these
kids experience every day; God had given me eyes to see their pain and sorrow. They
did not want to go home. As I sat in that place I became angry with the people
who were afflicting them, the situations they found themselves in, and
ultimately the sin so prevalent in their lives that they could do nothing
about. Why God? But I didn’t want to sit in that place. Instead I felt
compelled to pray with FAITH that their families and situations would be healed
and redeemed by the Lord. I was questioning (and still am to some degree) how
to bridge the gap between mourning for them and yet believing that God will
show up in a big way for these kids. I simply need to trust and have FAITH (a
continuing theme in my life) that God sees them and is holding them in the palm
of His hands. I need to relinquish control and believe in faith that God has a
plan and a purpose and that He is working it out little by little every day,
whether I can see that or not. All I can do is pray… and yet prayer is
POWERFUL.
The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach
good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim
freedom for the captives
and release
from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and
provide for those who grieve in Zion-
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.
They will rebuild the ancient ruins
and restore
the places long devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities
that have been devastated for generations. – Isaiah 61:1-4
