I really expected that when I stepped off the plan in Kiev, I would feel like a stranger in a strange land, that my I would feel like a totally different person.
I am, of course, referring to my trip to Ukraine earlier this month as a missionary working
I had envisioned being overwhelmed and scared in a place where I didn’t know the customs or the language. I wasn’t too concerned with these feeling as I prepped; I had to worry about my health more and reserved any nervousness for the airport for my first international flight. I had visions of security hell and bureaucratic red tape (every story ever told me magnified by ten). While there was an issue in Atlanta, that was cleared up after ten minutes, and I never had another spot of trouble even when I flew home all by myself 9 days later.
Many will give a variety of reasons: I was at least familiar with the sounds of the language, I was with a group of people I knew and trusted, the landscape was somewhat similar to what I was used to. But I stand by this: I felt at home because I was where God was calling me to be. The first day was tough health wise, but I quickly learned from my own mistakes and made it through the week (I did suffer when I got home; my body was ready to shut down for a day to catch up lol).I was in Ukraine for a purpose, to reach out to his children who had been left frightened and alone. Because I stepped out in faith, he kept me safe and eased my path. In fact, I am still reaping benefits and rewards from him for stepping out in faith.
Getting on this trip was pure faith. I had to raise funds and didn’t quite reach my goal. My job graciously made it so I could go, and I will continue to pay them back with money and hard work. Getting my passport proved challenging but then it came back quickly and with no issues (two weeks!!). Everything started rough but easily smoothed out.
I will admit that while I was there was some struggle. I felt like I wasn’t spending enough time with the children and that I wasn’t being helpful enough. I was frustrated with my illness and how it limited me. But about half way through, I understood: God has sent me on the easy trip because he knew I needed it. He made sure I was on the trip that was the least taxing to my body. I had heard stories about lack of sleep and comfortable beds and even bathrooms. So I stopped complaining in my journal and in my head.
When I came back everyone wanted to know what my favorite part was. This is the most difficult question: I didn’t know. I loved the food, the orphanage, the city, the people, the kids, the culture. But in the end it was the passion for my work that was my favorite part. God used the trip to solidify the thoughts I have always had about my talents and he rekindled my passion for children. The normalness and the use of my gifts was the best part. It was like home away from home and I loved it.
Stay tuned for my next entries cataloging events within my trip and stories about the children.
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