Special to ASSIST News Service
KIEV, UKRAINE (ANS) -- I was arguing with God, a foolish thing to do if you are a believer in Jesus Christ and want Him to be Lord of your life. After three short-term trips to Ukraine visiting a Christian orphanage, I was now feeling God pulling me to live there full time.
 |
Dinner at my rented apartment with three Ukrainian orphan teens |
From my previous visits, I thought I knew what I was getting into. I had to focus my mission work on the Christian orphanage where the children had made a remarkable impact on my heart, learn the language, then return to America and resume my short-term mission trips. Since I had it all figured out, there was no need to raise support or get training or find a missions team to join or any of the normal things that missionaries do before they go marching off to the mission field. I was a self-starter therefore I would be a self-supporter. Wasn’t I going to be there for only one year?
My first exposure to Ukraine had been a shock. My friend, who had been in missions work there for 8 years, raved about how beautiful it was. Driving in from the airport, my eyes saw only tall, ugly, concrete buildings with dilapidated balconies and windows. Arriving at the apartment where we would stay, we were greeted with the odor of urine, garbage and cigarettes in the tiny elevator and hallways. The apartment, thank goodness, was clean and airy but the beds and chairs were hard and uncomfortable. Could I do this for a year?
 |
Marschrutka (minibus) ,my transportation around town |
Through Bible studies, church and language studies, I was beginning to meet more and more wonderful, hospitable, warm-hearted Ukrainians. Many spoke a little English and wanted to practice when they realized I was American. They were interested in why I had come to their country. Often they had stories of relatives who live in America or Canada. They were always willing to help, give directions or answer my questions if they could.
I am reminded of my first excursion on a marshrutka, a small mini bus. My friend had given me the Russian phrase to ask the driver to please tell me when I needed to get off. After boarding, I valiantly approached him and haltingly asked my question. He just shrugged his shoulders. I was panic stricken. By now the bus was moving away and I had no idea where I was going. I stood, rooted to the spot, and prayed, “God please send me an angel, someone to help me.” I felt Him telling me to take a seat. There was only one left. I made my way down the aisle and sat down. I turned to the lady next to me and softly asked my question in Russian once again. Her answer was like music to my ears. Not only was she going to the same place I was but I UNDERSTOOD the words that she used!! That was one of many confirmations from the Lord that I was safely in His Hands. He was beginning to show me just how dependable He could be.
 |
My Russian language class |
Unexpectedly, my roommate situation did not work out and I was forced to find an apartment and live alone. Fortunately, there were other American missionaries to help me with language, documents and the move. Now life got harder. This was a Ukrainian apartment, not modified to American standards. Would I be able to live here? Could I afford it? Would I be able to manage all alone? God again and again reminded me, “I am with you, I will never leave you or forsake you.”
The challenges were increasing daily. Taking a small bus to and from my language lessons, purchasing food in the open market and paying for it with foreign looking money was scary. Because I did not understand the amount owed, I would hold out a handful of coins and let the vendor take what he or she required. Taking the bus was scary too. Often there was standing room only on a jerky, bumpy ride. Recognizing when to get off was especially challenging with dirty, steamy windows as the cold weather arrived. Paying the bus fare was interesting too. If you got on and the bus aisle was full of standing riders, you just passed your money to the person in front of you and hoped it would eventually get to the driver. Amazingly, it usually did and often change was sent back down the line to the originating fare payer. Life was a daily humbling experience. More than once, I was yelled at when I did not respond or looked confused by what was said to me. God, what am I doing here?
God was stripping me of all my self-sufficiency. I desperately needed HIM!! I prayed and read my Bible every day looking for comfort and peace in this strange world. But the biggest challenge was yet to come. Hearing from other missionaries about needing to move every few years, because the owner of the apartment wanted to move back in or sell, caused me some concern. I did not have a team of people who could help me do that. And now, living alone, I had purchased a washing machine, dishes, pots and pans and other necessary apartment stuff. The next move would be more than 3 suitcases. My apartment landlord spoke only Ukrainian and I had great difficulty communicating with him. He also had some strange, drunken friends who came to my door one afternoon asking for him. My rented space was cold and drafty in the minus winter temperatures. Already I had discovered that Russian was going to take more than a year to learn. It was time to think about owning a place of my own. Was this what God wanted me to do?
Some friends of mine were searching for an apartment to purchase. Inviting myself along with them as they visited potential places, I saw one that I really liked. It was on the 14th floor, an end unit, meaning that I would have windows facing in two directions with cross breezes and only two neighbors rather than 4 or 5. When my friends eventually decided against it, I made an offer. Is this the right decision, Lord? Dealing with the apartment buying process was another challenge. Fortunately, my real estate agent spoke English and had worked with other missionaries. She was confident and competent.
I, however, was not. Transferring funds from one bank to another in the US is one thing. Crossing the Atlantic is quite another, especially if your money is in a credit union with no experience doing this. It turned out that they had programed their interbank system to require 9 digits for the bank ID, since all US banks use 9 digits. The Kiev bank used only 8 digits. After three days of trying to make it work, I was frantic and running out of time. Emailing my daughter in America, 10-hour time difference, I desperately prayed she could transfer the money from her bank. She emailed the next day saying it was done but that it would take 5 to 6 business days. Monday was a holiday in America and my funds were due in Kiev on Wednesday. I prayed even more fervently.
God’s affirmation for buying the apartment arrived on Monday morning with a call from the Kiev bank. The money had arrived! It was a day of rejoicing, proving once again – “Nothing is impossible with God!” (Luke 1:37), including the transformation of a reluctant, short-term, self-sufficient missionary into a long-term, God-dependent servant. God’s plan, apparently, was for more than just a year. OK, Lord, I accept that!
 |
No comments:
Post a Comment