Thanks for your patience. It has taken me much longer to post these stories than I would have liked.
I've been procrastinating on this story because has been difficult to write.
On Wednesday, July 16Th the Yellow bus departed for a long ride in the country. One of the fascinating sights we saw as the bus drove past wheat and hay fields which were being harvested was a great number of storks. The storks were hunting for frogs (their favorite food) in the freshly cut fields. They build intricate nests on chimneys, water towers and even utility poles. We passed a church on our way from L'viv to Chernivtsi that had an enormous stork's nest atop the chimney. Their wing span is huge and we got some great shots of storks and their nests.
As we rode along the sights were very much like what you would see in the Mid West...fields of healthy green corn and ripened wheat. The difference is that the crops are grown in smaller quantities than here in the States. They are often positioned in long rectangular strips rotating with corn, wheat, potatoes and canola. From the air it looks like a scarf knitted with variegated yarn. There are also some delightful sights you would not see in the States like wooden windmills and horse carts pulling hay and other produce. The most remarkable thing to me was the incredibly black, rich soil in which the crops thrive. This part of Ukraine receives a great deal of rain so crops are prolific. Since there is so much rain in this region, beans are grown on tall poles to keep them from rotting on the ground. Every house in the villages and along the country highways had beautiful gardens. Each yard had a flower garden with gorgeous roses and all kinds of flowers and the other part of the yard commonly had fruit trees, maybe a grape vine and of course the vegetable garden with potatoes, cabbage, corn, squash, bean, beets, pumpkins and tomatoes.
Much fertile soil of Ukraine was stripped and hauled off to Germany by Hitler during WWII. It hurts just to think about all the suffering that went on in Ukraine and Russia during that time. Later I will write a story about a precious woman I met who survived the 900 day siege of St Petersburg. At 88, she still carries the scars of that horror with her.
Back to the story; This was the most difficult visit of our trip. After the long ride, we pulled into the driveway of the home for mentally handicapped men. Tony and I went in to find the director. The room where the director guided us was occupied by several residents who were watching a DVD. They were hastily chased out and it was obvious the men were not happy about leaving their movie. As I entered the room the overpowering smell of urine permeated my nostrils. It was all I could do not to gag. At that point, I decided it would be best to breath through my mouth if I was going to make it through the conversation. Tony began negotiating with the director and I stood by listening. Outside the door where the occupants of the room had been chased, I heard extremely abusive yelling by caretakers. It kept up for several minutes and I was feeling very uncomfortable about it. In the background you could also hear residents screaming and feet shuffling down hallways. As the minutes passed I became more uneasy about our visit here.
Boxes of back packs with school supplies had been delivered by Ukraine for Christ earlier in the week, along with shoes, socks and other aid. The director did not want us to give the backpacks to the residents but wanted us to take them with us. It was impossible for us to take them back because of red tape with delivery and acceptance being documented on paper so we decided to give them to the men anyway. There were only 7 school age children here and the rest were adults. The director told us we could break into two groups, one would meet with the younger children who were kept in a different wing and the other group would meet with the rest of the men in the dining area. They quickly gathered the older men in the meeting place and we went out to get the team from the bus.
By the time our team got organized and in the building the waiting residents had become quite restless. Few of them could talk but they were making all kinds of unhappy noises. It is very difficult to describe these pitiful souls. Most of them had malformed heads but were physically functional. The director called them "imbeciles". What amazed me most was the way our team came in and ministered to those precious men. As soon as the team walked into the room, the unhappy noises stopped. There was a spirit of love that filled the hall and it was in every member of our team. With hearts of compassion our team greeted the men and treated them with love and respect. Each one I observed had small scars on their heads, hands and legs. I didn't even want to think about how they got the scars but deep down I knew they had been beaten. This was confirmed a couple of days later by a former resident. The smell in this room was so overpowering I had to leave. I felt horrible leaving my team mates there to deal with the situation especially since no one else seemed to have the same problem with the smell. My husband who is extremely sensitive to smells never left the room. Later I asked him about it and he said he didn't remember the odor.
The rest of the team was with the younger children so I headed over to see what they were doing. In a small room with one care taker there were seven severely disabled children. Tears came flooding to my eyes as I watched our team members love on these kids. They took turns holding them and playing with them. The children squealed with joy to be touched and loved. They could not speak but they certainly responded to the tender touches and loving words of our team members. As I walked into the room, a little girl leaped into my arms wanting to be held. She was actually a pretty big kid that weighed about 35 lbs. I struggled to pick her up but when I did, she wrapped her legs around me, hugged my neck and held on as if to say, don't leave me. We rocked and swayed for a long time until I could not hold her weight any more. Thankfully a team member named Tom was able to take her.
Outside the building was an older man we stopped to talk to. He was the living history of the institution at age 57. Vanya had been there since he was a young child. We tried to give him a book but he said he could not read or write. He was sitting in a wheel chair that resembled a three wheeled bicycle. There were two bars attached to the arms of the chair that Vanya pumped up and down to make the chair move. He asked us if we had a different wheel chair because this one broke down frequently. Vanya's picture is above. He said he had a room with one roommate and a television which he was very proud of. Anya was interpreting for me and I got the distinct feeling Vanya probably could have been literate if someone had taught him when he was young. It made me sad to think he had been there most of his life but he seemed to be reasonably content.
I have chosen not to post any pictures of the severely deformed men to protect their dignity. Please pray that the caregivers in this facility will treat these men with kindness and respect.
Frank was able to meet with the kitchen ladies and give them Gospel aprons and Bibles. God promises His Word will not return void. Please pray that the Bibles and Christian books we left there will be read and lives will be changed.
Later in the evening as I reflected on the day God spoke to my heart about the smell I had such a hard time dealing with. He said, "Your sin is as wretched to me as that smell was to you." It was quite an unexpected blow and I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to argue with God, but I knew He was right. As I drifted into fitful sleep that night, I tearfully confessed everything that the Spirit brought to mind. I will never forget that lesson, the smell and God's voice.
God will often speak to my heart and deal with some issue when I am away from all the distractions of my everyday life. These trips have done more to change me than anything beside the in depth study of God's word. I am intensely grateful for the experience I went through ten years ago with Heart Connexion Ministry that catapulted me from fear to trust. Without that life changing training, I would never have taken my first trip overseas.
.JPG)
