On Ukraine.

First of all, just to clarify for those of you who are worried about us, Jack and I don't live near Ukraine.  To even reach the border would require a 10-hour drive north, and then to reach an area where there is active conflict would be another long haul.  Our lives in this small Romanian town in the Carpathians are unaffected by the conflict in Ukraine in almost every way.  I think I am grateful for that -- certainly grateful, at least, for the peace and security we live in, for the lack of fear.  But I don't want to forget -- and I so easily do! -- that only one country away, a revolution is happening.  (Or it happened, and now a war is brewing.  It's hard to tell.)  Either way, I don't want to forget.  Because although this particular country where we currently live has captured most of my attention for the present, this entire region fascinates me, and always has.  In particular, the courage of its people move me to tears.  (Public displays of courageous civic engagement always do.)  And so I don't want to forget Ukraine, or ignore it, simply because I can.

Which is why I wanted to post a prayer letter we just received from some of our colleagues, a CRWM missionary family serving in Kiev.  We haven't met this family, but I feel kinship to them simply because of the fact that they, too, are part of this group of CRWM missionaries serving in Europe and the Middle East -- people we fell in love with in April when we spent Easter weekend together, laughing uproariously and praying honestly and confessing and supporting and encouraging.  So I want to pass on what they wrote so that those of you who hold us oh-so-faithfully in prayer can pray for this region, and in particular for Ukraine.

We were shocked, abhorred, deeply saddened -- what other words can I use -- at the downing of Malaysian Airlines flight 17 by the Russian insurgents fighting against Ukraine in the East.  We’ve watched coverage on TV and online in shock and disbelief.  We’ve been angered by the blatant lies, disrespect for human life and for the victims of this senseless tragedy, and by the unbelievably weak response of the international community to this atrocity and war crime committed by the lawless “Donetsk Peoples’ Republic” and their patron, Vladimir Putin.  The best word I’ve seen used to describe the West’s response is “pusillanious” (had to look that one up!).

While the shooting down of flight MH17 has taken over the headlines, the fighting has not let up in the East.  Key prayer points:

1. for the Evangelical churches in the conflict zone.  A pastor, his two adult sons and a deacon from one church were brutally tortured and murdered by the Russian insurgents.  Part of the philosophy that drives Putin is a belief in the purity of Russian Orthodoxy.  This leads him to promote the persecution of Protestants in the region as they are seen as “Western” by default.  Pray for the church to have wisdom and strength to persevere during this time of terror.

2. for the refugees.  The UN has counted around 110,000 refugees at the current time.  The number continues to grow.  But getting a sense of the exact need is very difficult.  Many have fled the conflict zone to relatives in Ukraine or Russia.  There are around 40,000 or so refugees from the Crimea and the eastern regions that are living in temporary facilities who need help.  Our ministry partners, Russian Ministries and the Association for Spiritual Renewal, are addressing the needs of refugees and also the needs of people who have been recently liberated by Ukrainian forces.  There are many people who have been left with nothing and are struggling to survive.  We are working now with our partners to begin to address these needs. 

3. for the Ukrainian government.  Yesterday the ruling coalition in the Ukrainian parliament (Rada) collapsed.  This has mixed blessings - it forces early elections which was something Ukrainians want.  But it also adds some instability on top of all of the other problems - military conflict, plane crash, brink of economic collapse.  Ukraine needs our prayers and the support of the global community!

4. for global leaders to stand up to Putin and to put an end to his reign of terror in Ukraine.  For anyone who wants to understand this better I would recommend reading the following article:  http://rabble.ca/blogs/bloggers/christophermajka/2014/07/blundering-ukraine-putins-strategic-debacle

Thank you for your care and concern for us and for Ukraine.  We need your prayers and so does this great nation.

 

Please join us in praying for these neighbors.

For homesick days.

From my brother Karl.  For him, and my sister, and my parents, and a missed family vacation this week in my childhood summer home.

"There is nothing that can replace the absence of someone dear to us, and one should not even attempt to do so.  One must simply hold out and endure it.  At first that sounds very hard, but at the same time it is also a great comfort.  For to the extent the emptiness truly remains unfilled one remains connected to the other person through it.  It is wrong to say that God fills the emptiness.  God in no way fills it but much more leaves it precisely unfilled and thus helps us preserve -- even in pain -- the authentic relationship.  Furthermore, the more beautiful and full the remembrances, the more difficult the separation.  But gratitude transforms the torment of memory into silent joy.  One bears what was lovely in the past not as a thorn but as a precious gift deep within, a hidden treasure of which one can always be certain."

- Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Renovations.

So.  There's this group of old men who sit at the bottom of our apartment bloc stairwell playing backgammon... all day, every day.  They gather at this tiny little kiosk called Te Quiero which sells all sorts of gross processed, packaged snacks, and they watch each other play endless rounds as they sip beers, shirts unbuttoned to let their bellies catch some summer sun.  They're all retired but one (he still works in the mine; I can tell by the ring of coal dust around his eyes, like a thick dark eyeliner).  And they apparently have time to spare.  Lots of it.

They're quite cordial, and I'm somewhat fond of them, really.  Jack and I occasionally stop there to buy mineral water, and they always nod to us and say hello as we head to work in the morning and come home in the evening.  Sometimes their wives sit on the front bench, basking in the sun and nodding regally as we pass by with our "buna dimineata" on the way to work.  I am never sure what they're talking about or if they're really happy or what... but this little graffiti-covered kiosk seems like their center of gravity.  Or something.

So today it really made me laugh to see that they've decided to renovate the kiosk.  I'm not sure what they're doing, but it's adorable to me -- they brought in a little cement mixer, and they're all standing around watching and helping and taking turns smoothing the pavement, widening their little backgammon area or something. 

(Yes, I took a picture from the balcony.)

Anyway, it's cute.  And it made me smile to see renovations, to see people investing in and caring  about something as small and simple as their backgammon space.

So go, old guys, go.  Maybe we'll buy another mineral water soon to help support the project.

La mulți ani, America.

It was the 4th of July yesterday, and I almost forgot -- but our colleague Andra didn't.

We walked into the office yesterday morning to be greeted by, "La mulți ani!" (the traditional Romanian birthday greeting, which literally translated means something like, "Many more years!")  I was a little taken aback by it, so I laughed and asked, "What?"  Andra looked at me like I was crazy and said, "Kelly, it's America's birthday!  La mulți ani!"

Then she handed me a small butterfly pendant and gave Jack a red rope bracelet.  In honor of America's birthday.

Uh.  

And she wasn't the only one!  Other colleagues wished us the same, and also seemed a little surprised that we weren't wearing red, white, & blue, or launching fireworks, or that we hadn't brought  chocolate chip cookies to the office to celebrate.

Oops.

At first it was just kinda funny to me, and really sweet that our Romanian friends knew that it was America's independence day and wanted to recognize it for us.  (Also funny how many stereotypes and assumptions our Romanian friends have about the 4th of July from American movies!  But I digress.)  After the third person congratulated us on our nation's birth, I started thinking about how strange it is after all that we weren't doing anything.  Granted, Jack and I are pretty careful about trying not to bring unnecessary attention to the fact that we're foreigners.  Neither of us have ever been the most patriotic, in the sense of flag-waving, stars-and-stripes-wearing, firework-shooting July 4th celebrants.  And living overseas, as an American in particular, brings with it a fair share of baggage... especially in the fact that most of the youth we know and work with here in the Jiu Valley think that America is something like heaven on earth, that this fertile mountain valley is somewhere close to the opposite, and that success in life would include moving to the United States to live, work, and party.  We spend a fair amount of energy trying to dispel that myth, telling people about the realities of racism, immigrant discrimination, poverty, unemployment, and loneliness that exist in the US too.  (We're such cheery missionaries.)  But it seems important to me that the people we live among know that we didn't sacrifice some perfect life to move into a godforsaken, poverty-stricken valley.  It is important to me to help the kids we work with here see all the beauty that exists here -- in the mountains, in the food, in the people, in the history, in the potential.  I know we'll always be Americans living here, never "locals," but I want to value the richness of this place, even with my outsider eyes.

But yesterday I was reminded that the place we come from is worth celebrating too.  Jack and I have talked about this a lot -- how at the beginning we tried to "blend in," and when that didn't work, it took us a while to settle into this skin of being outsiders in a small community, and owning our Americanness.  In the last 9 months or so, we've started to invite people over for American-style meals, delighting in introducing people to the flavors and tastes of the place we come from.  We have started to talk more about our hometowns and our families, not shying away from the fact that we miss them, ache for them sometimes.  And yesterday I was reminded, once again, that there's a lot to celebrate about the United States of America (even as the social justice-international development-foreign policy parts of me sometimes wince).  Freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of religion.  Civic engagement and volunteerism.  Democratic elections (okay, even if they're corrupted by money) and remarkable levels of access to publicly elected officials.  Civil rights (slowly, slowly, but still) and public dialogue.  Brownies and Chicago-style pizza and Iowa corn on the cob.  I love living in Romania -- but I loved living in the US, too.

So la mulți ani, America.  To many years ahead.