March

The month of March has been the most difficult month for me to write about. I have concluded that it is because it feels so final. Writing about final events, saying goodbye, and reentry into the U.S. was like closing and locking a door. However it would be wrong not to share with those of you have been on this journey with me, those experiences. I have also decided, that just because I am entering an new phase of my life, I am not leaving Ukraine, my experiences there, the people I loved, or the passion that God has awakened in me in my past- it is now a part of who I am. As the thought provoking film set in Ukraine, Everything is Illuminated, illustrates, we do not leave our past behind us. Our past is a part of who we are and it affects the way we see the world around us.

It is this same principle of carrying our past around with us, which causes many people to carry burdens they don’t need to. When I think about the seventeen kids in the children’s center, I have an image in my head of each one them carrying a book bag on their back filled with bricks. Bricks of physical abuse, of verbal cruelty, the heaviness of being neglected or abandoned weighing down on them, the voices of their society constantly instilling lies by telling them they are guilty of the sins of their parents, that they are less valuable because they are orphans or because they have HIV, their family trees are infiltrated with prostitution, crime, and drug use. They carry these bricks which they are shackled to with chains of fear, low self-esteem, hopelessness, and a desire to fill the void in their lives with whatever they can find. My heart breaks, knowing that 10% of children in government orphanages commit suicide before the age of eighteen. As disturbing as this thought is, it is a reality that can only be broken by the power of God. This makes me ever more faithful that at least a handful of the thousand of orphans around the world are taking part in programs developed by Christian organizations that offer them not only food and shelter but hope and love.

If we think that we are safe from carrying our own bag of bricks just because we live in America, we are wrong. Each one of us carries are own bag of the past. There comes a point in each person’s life when they are given the choice to blame it on everyone who put a brick in their bag or tightened the chains that bind them and live with the weight and pain or we can take responsibility for the healing process. By putting down our bags and removing our chains we are free to live the life God truly wants for us. Letting go of our baggage is much harder than it sounds because we have to ask God and often others for help. My prayer for these kids, for you, and for me as that we will be able to put down our baggage and live free.

Pivotal Moments
I would like to share some of the events that took place my last few weeks in Ukraine.

Family
When I returned to Vapnyarka the last time, I got off the train in the middle of the night. When I got home, everyone was sleeping soundly. I awoke the next morning as usual. Nina, the lady I lived with was excited to see me. She poured us some tea and sat with me while I ate my bread and butter breakfast. After getting caught up on where I had been the subject turned to something more serious. Knowing I would be leaving soon, she asked me to ask my church to pray for her daughter, Yana, who I also lived with. As she begin to explain, tears began streaming down her face. Since the age of nine, Yana had severe headaches. The doctors were unable to figure out the cause. All they could do was give her medicine to help the pain. Ten years later, at the age of nineteen, Yana’s head still aches frequently. She continues to take medicine but there is still no knowledge of what is causing the pain.

Here I was, a year after I had arrived, listening to a woman pour her heart out, doing her best to explain her burden in the simplest Russian possible, so that I would understand. To Nina I was not a foreigner, but a sister in Christ and my church, although thousands of miles away, family. Her faith was inspirational. It didn’t matter to Nina what language was being used to pray because her God is bigger.

Yana was added to the prayer list at my church but I ask that as my fellow believer that you also pray for her condition. Also pray for her mother and family.

Fresh Off the Street
From Vapnyarka, I traveled to Odessa for about a week to spend time working with Natalya before going to Kiev. I said my goodbyes and shed some tears, knowing that I would not see the kids before I left. Thankfully God granted me peace and I was able to leave. The emotions and thoughts I was having were normal and expected. What I did not expect was what I would find in Odessa- a boy, who for writing we will name Sergei.

Sergei grew up on the streets. When he was only one and a half years old his mother, a drug user, was forced to live on the streets and took him with her. As Sergei, now fourteen, recalls his mother, he tells stories about how she used to care for not only him but all of the street boys. She did whatever she had to including theft, so that they would have food. Before she would always make sure the food was divided up between the kids before feeding herself. She often went without, so that the kids could eat. A couple of years ago Sergei’s mother died in his arms.

Over the last year Natalya has visited with street kids in Odessa, bringing them food and clothing. Some of you may remember Sasha, living with the kids on the street for a week to help gain their trust. Relationships were made and doors opened to the street kids.

Recently Sergei decided he wanted to try a new way of life, life off the streets. He was brought to Natalya’s home where he lived for two months prior to my arrival. As wonderful as home life may sound, it is a difficult transition for a kid used to living on the streets. There were lots of lessons to learn, like how to use a toilet and how to eat with silverware. There are rules, responsibilities, and expectations. In turn, he received a warm place to sleep and regular meals.

Sergei also decided to become a Christian. He has found a new hope. His church is in many ways his family.

For the first time in his life at the age of fourteen, he is learning to read. I had the honor to get to know Sergei better during my time in Odessa by playing games and helping him learn to read. I will never forget sitting across the breakfast table from him when he ate cereal for the first time ever.

Sergei is well on his way to a new life off the streets but the transition can be difficult. Please pray for the further development of this boy. He is now spending time in Vapnyarka. It is possible that he will live at the children’s center there. Pray that God protects and keeps him and also for the kids already in the children’s home as they adjust to a new kid.

Thank you for your continuous love, prayers, and encouragement as I return home. I hope to write more soon about the adjustments taking place. God Bless, Tiffany

NCM Magazine

If you are interested in reading my article about Aquila Ministries in Chernovtsy, Ukraine you can find it online at http://www.nazcompassion.org/magazine_center.aspx

Final Days

Traveler’s Note:
When washing your hands always turn on the water before putting soap on them or you may end up with a handful of soap with no way to rinse it off. (Be sure to keep some hand sanitizer on close by)

Quarantine

When I arrived in Vapnyarka on Wednesday the 25th of February the kids were in the middle of a week of no school. They were quarantine! The whole school was quarantine. Too many kids were sick, so they closed school for a whole week to keep it from spreading. Other than the three boys in Odessa, the kids were all at home, enjoying life without homework.

This time off school was a blessing to me as well. I was able to spend more time with the kids. We played BINGO and UNO. We played a towering bunny game I found in the bottom of my suit case. We watched movies and played with dolls. On the few days the sun was shining we played in the snow and rollerbladed on the pavement. Other than Andrei having to go to the hospital for a week because his cough was so bad, it was a glorious time.

Reaching New Heights

In May, I put up a height chart in the children’s center. I measured all seventeen kids and myself. Ten months later, I measured them again. Incredible! They grew an average of two inches each. I on the other hand, had shrunk about an inch and was officially labeled “Babushka” or grandma.

I knew the kids had grown during my time with them but I didn’t realize how much till I saw it with my own eyes. As each child stood in front of the chart awaiting the results, a smirk of anticipation lit each face. At the sight of their new heights they became excited. A sense of pride filled their eyes. They eagerly shared their results. Measuring them did not only record their physical growth but allowed their self esteem to blossom.

Saying Goodbye

It is never easy to say goodbye to the ones you love. For me, leaving these young children in Vapnyarka was no different. Not knowing if or when I will see them again makes it even more difficult. I worry about them.

Will they know they are loved? Will they make better decisions than their parents? What does life have in store for them? Will they become part of the statistics? But somehow, through the hugs and the tears, I have found peace. Even though I love them dearly, these children do not belong to me; they never did. They are the Lord’s. It is in the Lord’s hands that I leave them.

It does not mean I don’t cry for them. It does not mean that my heart does not break for them when I think of the tragic past that haunts them. It does not mean I don’t cringe when I think of the battles that lie ahead of them. It means I realize that I am not God. It means I pray for them daily. I pray that their past is not their future. I pray for healing. I pray that they find hope. I pray that they know they are loved.