I can’t tell you how many times I sit down ready to write a blog, only to come up completely blank. There are so many things I could write about I suppose…but between my inability to get thoughts out onto paper and the fact that life sometimes seems to fly by faster than I can process it all, it just doesn’t happen.
I end up frustrated. Wanting to blog. Wanting to let the world know what’s going on on this side of the world. But the words so often don’t come out.
And then I begin to over analyze what I do write. Does it sound World Racey enough? How can I make it sound more spiritual? Why does it sound so much better in my head than it does on paper? You get the idea. It upsets me!! Because there are so many things I want you to know!
I want you to know about the woman I met at my first eyeglass clinic. How she teaches English to secondary students even as she is learning it herself. How she stayed close to me all day long, talking and listening, hanging on every word.
(The group taking a picture with her…obviously a few of us were not ready)
I want you to know how lonely she seemed and how my heart broke when she told me she hasn’t spoken to her son in years.
I want you to know about all the elderly people who come into the eyeglass clinics. How small and fragile they look sitting in the chair as they try their hardest to steady the page as they struggle to read the words written on it. How I immediately feel a love beyond my human flesh for each one of them…even though I barely know who they are.
(One of the ladies who came to get eyeglasses)
I want you to know how some of them cry as they are handed a pair of reading glasses as though they have just been given a treasure. How they say “Speciba” (thank you in Russian) over and over again before leaving the room.
I want you to know about the old man who told us he had been a POW in World War II. How I wanted so much to give him a hug and thank him for his service. How I could see the exhaustion and a life full of memories in his eyes.
I want you to know about Anya, the doctor who helps us with eyeglass clinics. How she wakes up early to carpool with us. How she calmly and compassionately works with every patient.
(Anya with a patient)
I want you to know how she treats the children who come, even though she isn’t a pediatrician and could get in huge trouble for treating them.
I want you to know how much my heart prays for her. She isn’t a Christian. How I pray that one day God will grab a hold of her and bring the joy only he can give into her life.
I want you to know about how I sang songs late into the night with the sweetest Ukrainian family and their friends in New Russia. How this same family was such a blessing to us for the four days we spent with them. How they cooked every meal for us. How they allowed us to stay in their house. How they have so much joy despite the heartache they have faced. I want you to know how proud they were to be hosting us, and how much that humbled me.
(Our new Ukrainian friends singing late at night)
I want you to know about their kids. How their three year old, Reuben, was an instant friend of mine. How he prattles on despite the fact that I can’t understand him. How sometimes his mood instantly changes and starts to smack you…and then comes back a few minutes later ready to hug you again. I want to tell you about his brother who holds my hand (even as a 11 year old). How he plays with my hair and smiles up at me with the biggest grin on his face. I want you to know how he takes my hand and practically drags me down the path, excited to show off his village. I want you to know how beautiful their daughters are. Their piercing blue eyes and sweet smiles. How they all have freckles on their pale skin. How much I laughed with them this week.
I want you to know how broken I was the moment I learned they had lost a baby not long ago. I want you to know that I wept, uncontrollably.
But I want you to know how that weeping turned into rejoicing. This family knows Jesus. They know what joy really is. They are overflowing with it, just as they overflow with love and service.
I want you to know that, though I may never see them again on earth, I cannot wait to see this family again in heaven. How I will rejoice as I hug each member of the family, including their baby girl.
I want you to know about Julia, our next door neighbor and friend. How she sweetly brings us treats throughout the week. How her mom cooks us lunch or dinner once in a while, just to be nice. How Julia works for hours to unclog our sink and toilet. How she has such a servant’s heart.
I want you to know that her father is an alcoholic and it grieves her so to see him drunk. I want you to know how hard she works. How she goes to school and works during the weekends. I want you to know how much I love to laugh with her.
I want you to know about my African family here. I want you to know how within a few hours of meeting them, I felt as though we had been friends for years. How I almost cried when I listened to them talk about their dreams. How they are making their dreams of becoming doctors come true.
I want you to know how welcoming they are. How I spent the day hanging out with them playing soccer and running relay races. How I laughed more with the women I played soccer with than I thought was possible. How they invited us to join them the next day at church. How excited they were when we came! I want you to know how my heart sang as I joined them in worshiping Jesus that Sunday. How they really know what worship means. How their passion for Jesus radiates from their souls.
(At the African church)
I want you to know how many ridiculous pictures we took after church. How crazy it is that I am in Ukraine, but I’m hanging out with a bunch of Nigerians. How you can totally tell where the American girls are in these pictures. I want you to know how they cooked up a special lunch for us after church. I want you to know how excited I am for 3 months in Africa after hanging out with them for just a few days.
(Hanging out after church)
I want you to know about Williams, one of the Nigerians we met on our second day here. How he practically begs to come to eyeglass clinics in order to get as much experience as he can before returning to Nigeria as a doctor. How he has bought us lunch, made us welcome in his apartment, picked us up for church, and so much more. How he sees Jesus in all of us and isn’t afraid to speak it out. I want you to know how much he makes me laugh. How much I am going to miss him when we leave. I want you to know how much he is teaching me about following Jesus, that faith does move mountains.
I want you to know how much I love the girls on my team…not just a shallow “ya, we are friends” love. A deep, deep love that only comes from Jesus. How I hurt for them when they are struggling and how much I rejoice when they stand victoriously. How I couldn’t imagine life without them. I want you to know how special each one of them is and how they are helping to shape me into looking more like Jesus. How I can tell them anything without fear of rejection. How, even when I fail, they are there to help me get back up and start again. I want you to know how much of an encouragement each one of them is. How much we laugh on this team and the millions of funny stories we will be able to share at each other’s weddings. How I am going to treasure each day of the next six months on the race doing life with them.
(Team Veracity in New Russia)
I want to tell you about the missionary family we are living with. How they’ve treated us as family since the moment we arrived. I want you to know how nice it was to cook for Pia, our stand in mom this month, on Mother’s Day when I couldn’t cook for my own mother. How I love accidentally walking in on their Bible studies or family prayer times. How I love sitting around the table just getting to talk with them.
(The MacDonald eating the dinner we made for them on Mother's Day)
I want you to know how little Mercy has Emily wrapped around her finger. How adorable she is. I want you to know about Toby, who looks up at me with big brown eyes and whose dimples show when he smiles. How Kerrianne is such a sweet girl and growing up so fast. I want you to know how Bruce loves the people in the Ukraine. How he buys all the glasses for the clinics. How he treats us as if we are his own daughters.
I want you to know about the Pakistani we met at the University. How he sees women differently than America does. How he came to the Africans’ church just to see us…but it got him there! How I dearly hope he goes back and that the love of my friends there will overwhelm his soul. How I pray for God to make himself known to him.
I want you to know about the train rides from Bucharest to Luhansk.
(on the train to Luhansk)
I want you to know how genuine love changes things.
I want you to know how it is to be the team treasurer.
I want you to know that sometimes, I miss home. And that sometimes, I wish that I could just go home. How I sometimes desperately want a hug from my brother and to talk to my mom in person.
I want you to know that I am already a much different person than I was when I left in January.
I want you to know that I might cry the day we leave this place.
I want you to know how much I love Ukraine.
I want you to know how much my heart brakes for this country. How so many of them are stuck. How joy and happiness are almost nonexistent in so many of their lives.
I want you to know how tradition keeps so many of these beautiful people from knowing Jesus and how sad that makes me. How drunkenness and depression plagues these people.
I want you to know how superstitious these people are. How several teammates have been yelled at because they have sat on floors of train stations or on outside steps. How Ukrainians believe that causes women to become infertile. I want to tell you how that frustrates me sometimes…because sometimes I just want to sit on the ground! Or how sometimes I hate the fact that I have to remove my shoes just to put my feet on anything. How sometimes it’s a struggle for me to adhere to the cultural rules like these.
But I also want you to know that I believe Jesus is in the Ukraine. That he hasn’t forgotten these people. That his love for them is beginning to penetrate the darkness. How he is using so many of the people I have met to bring light to this place.
I want to tell you all of these things. But I can’t always get it out of my head and onto paper in 500 words. So know that I want to tell you these things. That Jesus is on the move. That He is teaching me more than I will ever realize. Know that I am well. That I am missing you all terribly and think of you often.
Pray for me. Pray that Jesus keeps opening my eyes to see what he sees. That Africa would bring even more change to my life, more love, more yearning for Him. That the people I am meeting here in Ukraine would be overwhelmed by the love of Jesus and that they would be aware of His presence in their daily lives.
With love from Luhansk, Ukraine,
Sarah
