I really like being here in Ukraine for lots o’ reasons-
1=The Dugger family we live with is first in line for heaven I swear- they give Mother T a run for her money fo sho- they are amazing and possibly angelic.
we look hilariously missionary with skirts and long hair don't care
2=Ukrainian ministry has been different than the other nine places we’ve been… It’s nice to have not only variety in our diet (food=like home where we get to eat for taste instead of just survival), but variety in the stuff we do for other people.
One difference I hadn’t picked up on until the other day when we were helping yet another Baba Vera, was something I hadn’t seen in a while… Old people.
We’ve mostly been gardening, cleaning, painting, and hanging out with the old folks around the neighborhood. I’m way thankful for these California Raisin grannies and gramps- I love old people, they’re hilarious-especially gold toothed eastern European ones…
It’s weird to have them around again- the other countries we’ve been to have had little to no oldie but goodies because the population=tons of snotty nosed, rag tag kids running around to somehow always harass me (still not much of a kid person, which is probably more than heartless to say after this year) Seriously, though, this place hasn’t faced as much poverty/genocide/AIDS like the other countries we’ve been to, leaving lots of old people to hang out with.
It’s made me think a lot about how to “minister” to people here. In the other places we’ve been it was enough for us to just be there- our white skin and foreign status got us “in” and they were way open to hear about the gospel- we could preach the night away and it was accepted because the necessity of God=way more apparent there. We represented the hope they needed and getting to live with them, encourage them, lead them, and love them made them way more free/interested.
Here there’s a bunch of old people who survived communism and they have walls up-they’re Oscar the grouch-esque, bitter, gruff- They’re sad/depressed/heavy feeling-each Sunday at church at least two old men have stood up and cried whilst preachin… So serving these Stone Wall Jackson’s is way different (not to mention the Orthodox Church stuff that’s kind of over my head)
It’s more about being the Word here rather than talking about the Word- it’s about listening to these people who’ve been through so much for lots of years, and recognizing that talking about God here brings up a lot of defensive debate stuff, versus the general consensus of life giving, spiritual hope He is in places like Africa. Here they’re more impressed by what we do, rather than what we represent or even why we do it. I feel like in the other countries it was more like, “Why are you here?” that got ‘em-like why would we find ourselves in the middle of African villages, etc… here it’s more like-“Ok, big deal that you’re here… Now, what are you going to do?”
It’s been cool getting to keep lonely old widows company, pray for them, and help them with what they need. Trying to breakthrough a bunch o’ pissed grannies=fun. One in particular was my fave-she had one leg and “is always sad,” said our host family… but before we left her that day, she was sharing Sprite with us, was laughing, and was even joking about her undies hanging on the line- I think it was incessant complimenting her flowers that finally cracked her.
One-legged Oldie but Goodie friend
random picture at Black Sea-yes please
