But seriously, is this even real?

*I wrote this our last night at the village. I’m posting it from back in Odessa where we arrived last night.*

Before
we begin this blog, let’s review a quotation from my last blog: “Wednesday
night God finally decided to put an end to this test he’s been putting me
through and give me some information for more than the next 12 hours�. I can’t
read this sentence without laughing. While I knew I still had tests ahead when
I typed that, I didn’t think the next test would be in 2 days and would be on
the exact same subject my last test was on: patience and flexibility. Let me
describe to you the magical mystery tour that began shortly after I posted my
last blog.

On
Friday night about 8:30 Ukraine time, we discovered we would be leaving at 9
the next morning for a 5 day trip to “the villageâ€�.  Don’t worry. It’s not as ominous as it seems.  This trip was news to me though since
just hours before we were told we were going to the beach with the gypsy
children the next day. Maxim, our maybe sorta contact, told us of course not –
that he in fact had told us 3 times about the village. I’ve yet to determine if
he told me in Russian, while I was sleeping or the most likely option – both. However
he told me, it was a complete and total surprise to the entire team and myself.
To say there wasn’t initial frustration would be a lie. However, I thought
about if for a little bit and then we discussed it as a team and we realized
wait a minute! this isn’t bad, we actually get to do something. This was super
exciting since we had just finished day 5 of no ministry work due to scheduling
and weather. We weren’t upset with the news; just the delivery method, and
realizing this really boosted spirits and brought the team closer.

By
the way, I’ve given Maxim the nickname Ukraimer, as in the Ukrainian version of
Kramer from Seinfeld. He’s constantly filled with these crazy schemes and
one-liners, has a wild head of hair and is totally scatter brained. Example:
the day he ran up the stairs, jumped into our room where we were playing Uno,
pointed at the cards and yelled ‘It’s a sin!’, and then ran away. Despite his
antics though he’s still a loveable guy. I’m convinced we’ll meet his
overweight postal worker friend any day now.

The
village has been great though. We live in the middle of nowhere in an abandoned
hatch with quarantine stamped on the outer door. Just kidding, it doesn’t say
quarantine. But seriously, we’ve actually had the awesome opportunity to live
in a small church in the middle of nowhere Ukraine and help its ministry. The
preacher is an ex-alcoholic and drug user who is now so dedicated to spreading
the Word that he left his city home in Odessa to move to this tiny village to
minister to them. We’ve taught children English and helped with church
services. Children learn English in school, but love practicing it on
Americans. I didn’t realize what a rarity it is to see Americans here until a
woman of some age at church told us that despite being the school’s English
teacher we are the first Americans she’s ever been able to practice her English
on.

We’ve
helped with two church services by singing songs, giving testimonies and oh
yeah I gave a sermon on Sunday. It went pretty well and the Spirit definitely
got me through it by giving me the words to say, but I made sure to leave room
for future improvement. The cool part was the translator and I used microphones
despite a crowd of maybe 20 because the village neighbors come outside to
listen to the services over the speakers, so the preacher told me not to be
discouraged by the small crowd but encouraged by the fact I was reaching people
I didn’t even know were there. No pressure or anything. It was an awesome
experience, and the peace I had while preparing for and preaching the sermon
encouraged me for other times this race I’ll have to do the same.

So
that’s the village we’ve spent our last 5 days at, but that doesn’t include our
first ministry. So let’s hop in our DeLorean, hit 88 miles per hour and jump back
in time a week or so. (Great scott!) Our first three days here in Odessa we
worked with gypsy children at a day camp.  (Our introduction to this camp was driving up all packed in a
van while our driver drove wildly through the field the kids were playing
soccer in honking her horn repeatedly without slowing down. We came within a
foot of at least five kids. I can’t make this stuff up. Welcome to gypsy
camp!!)The kids absolutely loved to teach us Russian and Gypsy (different
groups of gypsies have differing gypsy languages) and learn English. Some spoke
wonderful English, which is amazing since they already knew at least two other
languages, but we would sit for a long time and they would point at something,
we’d say it in English, they’d pronounce it perfectly on their first try and
they’d then teach us in Russian and gypsy and after about 10 incorrect pronunciations
they’d give up and give us a big thumbs up and say ‘Very good!’ I now know how
to say the following words in Russian: seven, hello, good-bye, good, poop, thank you and
beard. Obviously, I have no trouble getting around on my own.

The
other favorite activity of camp was to play games we generally didn’t
understand. Our favorite has to be the game of soccer we played. Jonathan and I
were told to play “goalie� and sit in the goal making no attempt to stop any
shots.  We were even chastised for
stopping a shot from point blank range kicked right at us. The girls were given
random items such as a stuffed bear, camera and a hairbrush and told to do
nothing but distract the kids. Only rule: “Children must have victory�. They of
course beat us like 12-1 since none of us are trying to win and then the game
ends and the woman in charge yells “The score is 3-3�. What? (Oh yeah, can’t
forget when the woman came and asked me to take a bag of Dum-Dums and a shovel
and dig a hole to bury each sucker in so the kids could excavate them in a
later game. Delicious!)

I’ve
done some awesome things already and I haven’t even been here 2 weeks. I swam
in the Black Sea, navigated the Odessa tram system successfully, held a chicken
(live and baked), taken an outdoor shower, drank milk that’s been out of the
cow only a few hours and sat around a campfire roasting sausages while
listening to the testimony of an ex-Soviet Army captain who came to know the
Lord despite growing up in a Communist school that taught children God is a
fairy tale. Seriously, is this real? If it isn’t please don’t wake me up yet.
I’m doing too much awesome stuff, and there’s way too much left to be done.
Keep your prayers coming for a cloud of peace to continually follow me around.