20

Ladies and Germs, I am going to tell you a story. A story about a young man on his birthday. Now clearly since he is a young man this is not the birthday of a toddler or even a teenager. Nay, this is the birthday on which he becomes a true MAN, his 20th. Apparently a birthday ending in 0 is jubilee, but I don't know all of the details. All I know is that I had a fantastic time.

It began the day before. I decided to buy some ice cream to celebrate. I went to the store and chose chocolate ice cream. It looked a little cheap, I'll admit, but it turned out to be quite delicious. I shared it with a few people here before I went to bed. In the morning I slept in, watched some of the Nativity Story, and then went to find Pastor Eugene. He is one of the few people who speaks English here. He took me to the pool to swim laps and to ski on what I can only lovingly call a bunny hill.

 Here is a picture of the pool. It is only about 25 meters long yet amazingly enough it has no roof. That is right, the pool is warm and it isn't TOO cold to get out for a moment, but many people wear swim caps here if only to keep their heads warm. For those of you who don't know, I LOVE swimming (I know I'm a bit round to like swimming but that's beside the point). I ended up swimming a kilometer before we had to leave.

Here is the skiing area. It is in the middle of the city and uses man made snow to maintain a base layer. It was really fun and I seem to have retained much of my skiing abilities. The run is really short, in other pictures from a slightly different angle (we are at the top) you can see the bottom of the hill, and I stress the HILL. Anyway, super fun.

This is one of the several gifts I received. It is a picture of me on the first day of teaching a particular set of students. The class is filled with five ladies in their mid-twenties to early-thirties and one of them thought she was being subtle by taking my picture, she wasn't. I had forgotten that she'd taken it so it was a great surprise. The girls also wrote a note on the back for me and it was really sweet. Also, forgive the weird look, I was really tired and playing with the picture. This photo happened to be in focus more than most others and the others in focus had weirder faces.

My running joke with some of the people here has been that "I am only a teenager, you can't expect me to be responsible! I'll be serious when I'm twenty." Well, now I AM twenty and I STILL don't want to be serious!

A wierd description of the first snow with a long uninteresting title, because I felt like it

December fifth. I walked outside and looked up at the sky. The sky is the one thing that has both changed the most and the least. On clear nights I look up and see the familiar constellations and, best of all, the moon in her many phases. I don't know that many star constellations, but occasionally I can find the big and little dippers but the easiest thing for me to find is Orion. In this way the sky has not changed a bit and reminds me of home. But to every coin there is a flip side, and in this case that is that many days are at least partly cloudy if not mostly cloudy or overcast. This is similar in a way to Walla Wallas weather, but in some ineffable way it's different.

Most days seem to be a little cold here, but that probably has more to do with the fact that it's winter than it does anything else. The fifth was not very cold in my opinion, at least not at the start. When I went outside the sky was pale blue with puffs of gray hanging in the wind. After lunch I decided to simply stand outside. I felt it get colder and windier. I looked at the sky and saw that the color had faltered. The pale blue had given up the last of its strength and had collapsed into a somber gray. I closed my eyes and felt the wind nip at my face and bite at my ears. My nose began to run from the cold and I sniffed to clear it. When I opened my eyes I saw just the faintest whisper of snow. A single snowflake that was falling just past arms reach. It was small and feeble. It seemed to enjoy its new found freedom as it danced left and right on its way back to Earth. I stood there a few minutes longer and watched as but a few more of its snowflake bretheren followed suit. They are far and few between, but each one danced for joy in the wind. Remembering my work, I returned to my room and to my desk.

A few hours later I received a phone call. I had been hypnotized by my laptop and the phone call had broken its spell. I looked around my room while I talked. As I said good bye and hung up I looked out my room's window. I was amazed. The snowflake I had seen earlier had brought his friends, family, and even snowflakes he did not know. There must be some place where the snowflakes are being massacred by the sun because the way that they jumped for joy and hugged the ground showed that this was their safe place, a haven for them.

In the morning, many of them had moved on to safer, colder places, but may had stayed to rest from their journey. They slowly left throughout the day, and while I will miss them, I know that they will return again soon.

Dnepropetrovsk, a new home

It struck me today that I have not truly blogged about my experience here in Ukraine. I have told small details about it and shared my thoughts that have occurred to me here, but that isn't the same. I realized on a deeper level this morning that I have a new home for the next few months. These events are important, both in the shaping of my life and the lives of those I come into contact with here.

Since will be here for several months, I suppose it's only fair to tell those of you at home a little bit about where I am staying. I am living in the great big city of Dnepropetrovsk which is home to some pretty big industrial facilities and over a million people. Interesting thing I learned is that until the collapse of the USSR, the city was closed, meaning that it was difficult to enter or leave the city without certain documents, largely due to the military factories here. There is a river running through the middle of the city named the Dnepr River. Oh, by the way, that river? Remember the factories I mentioned? Yeah... don't drink the river water...

I am currently sleeping at the church on the third floor. For those of you who are wondering, I do sleep on a mattress... sort of. As far as I have seen, a mattress like we think of in America doesn't exist here. The mattress that I have in my room is a flat sleeping pad, MAYBE an inch and a half thick. The good news is that I stole another mattress from the other bunk so now I have a solid two inches of padding! Anyway, they were nice enough to get me a desk, buy me a dresser, and I have a space heater now. I haven't needed the built in heater yet, but I a m told that it is only a matter of time.

The church is home to many things. It is actually two congregations (I don't know why) that meet in two separate sanctuaries. Below where I sleep (on the first floor) there is a small Christian primary school. Above the kitchen and dinning hall there is the Dnepropetrovsk Conference Office. Finally, around the back side of the church there is another building that houses a tiny Christian Bookstore, the pastor of one of the congregations, and the ELC.

Four days a week, I have the wonderful pleasure of eating lunch with the women from the conference office. I am able to eat a balanced meal of amazing Ukrainian food. Oh man, I don't even know how to describe all the foods, so I'll save that for another time. Suffice it to say that Ukrainians love soup, bread, and hot drinks (among many other things of course).

Razors & God

Shaving is a regular part of most peoples lives. For men it is their face, and if a woman shaves it will be her legs. Now, I have never shaved my legs, but I would imagine that it is somewhat similar to shaving your face in that dull razors just plain hurt!

When it comes to shaving and to changing the blade on my razor, I tend to wait too long. I often wait 3-5 days to shave instead of 2, leading to longer stubble. The combination of long stubble and a dull razor leads to a painful shave. Instead of changing my razor blade like I know I should, I often just force my self to "suck it up and take it like a man".

The other day I had such a shaving event. I was shaving with what might as well have been a broken dinner plate when I thought, "You know, this really hurts. I should change my razor, that would make it easier!" THEN!... I did nothing and kept shaving.

3-4 days later I was sitting in my room and I realized I needed to shave again. I grabbed my razor and shaving cream and started for the door when I remembered I needed to change the blades. That day was amazing. I shaved without pain, had not razor burn, and didn't cut myself once! Oh the differences that such a tiny change can make.

What is the best way to always look clean shaven? To shave all the time. With all of that shaving, you would need to change your razor every day! Assuming there was no financial consequence to this habit, you would become accustomed to the greater sense of comfort. I know that I would enjoy shaving more if I changed my razor every time!

I know that I am making a big deal out of a very simple thing, but I am leading into an idea, so this is where you need to start paying attention.

For the last few months, the main thing anyone seems to be talking about is LIVING with God. It isn't just because I am in Ukraine that I am hearing this. I heard it before I left and I see the idea online, too. Imagine inviting God into your life every morning. If we truly lived with God, our lives would be so much smoother at times. They would cause us less pain, not because the events are any easier, but because we have His strength in us. We must constantly change our razors, constantly dedicate ourselves to God.

I know that you should practice what you preach, but I am just a man. I am riddled with flaws and sin. I fail many days, but on the days that I dedicate myself to God, everything is better. By inviting Him to do things with me throughout the day, those things and that day are better.

Doubting Daryl

I have a person who is really close to me who is doubting religion on the whole. For the sake of pronouns, let's say they're a guy, and for the sake of a name, let's call him Daryl. Now, I was talking to Daryl about his religious views recently because he hinted that he was having doubts.

Daryl, if you read this, I want you to know that I love you and that this isn't meant to shame you or to insult you. I want you to know that this is simply me addressing the topic publicly, expressing my views to more people than just you. If you couldn't tell, when we talked I was having a hard time answering you questions. This are my views after a little bit of thinking.


So, why did I name this post "Doubting Daryl"? Well, first of all, I wanted something to make an alliteration, because they are catchy. Secondly, I didn't want to give away Daryl's real name. Thirdly, Daryl is having doubts. He is questioning reality, trying to determine what is real and what is not. These questions are very real and I had similar ones earlier in my life. It is very hard to figure out what exactly you can trust in life, or if you can even trust that you are really alive. Sometimes, when I get really sick and sleep all of the time, I have a difficult time telling what is reality and what is a dream. I tend to imagine things happening and then have to ask awkward questions afterward to see if something really happened. To the other people it is really obvious what reality is, but to me I have a hard time knowing for sure.

This is how I imagine Daryl feels right about now. He asked me something to the effect of "How do you know that religion is real and not just a way to process your emotions and the events around you?" Well, tough question. Since Emotions are subjective, and my personal interactions with God are subjective, I don't have any proof from personal experience. I do know that I have changed since coming to God, but your question is whether or not that change is really from God or if because I took a certain point of view I was able to make the changes necessary. I firmly hold that I would not have been able to make many or even all of the changes that I have if I hadn't had the help of God.

Since emotions are subjective,one will have to view that hundreds of historical proofs for the bible. I recommend researching this area even if you do believe bible because it is very interesting. If someone were to say "eh, these things aren't real" or "the bible was written after all of these things, so they don't prove it" that's fine, I have one last thing to say. It is simple and is easily illustrated with one of the questions I had a while back.

My question was this, "How do we know any of this is real? What if we are just a bunch of brains in jars, or what if I am the only one who is real, what if I am the only brain in a jar and you guys are my imagination?" Now, for those of you who don't know, there is a philosophical question about existence that was proposed a long time ago. It goes something like this. Let's say that modern science has advanced to the point of being able to remove a brain from the body without damaging or killing it. They then place it into a jar where the temperature and nutrients are kept at just the right levels to support the life of the brain. Finally, the brain is attached at all of the proper places with electrodes to allow sensory input. Some machine is then attached to the brain and the machine send the proper signals to the brain. In theory, you could convince the brain that it has a body, that is eats, sleeps, walks, and even talks, all through the use of electrical impulses. How would that brain know the difference between life in a body and life in a jar? How do you and I know that we are not simply brains in jars attached to machines? It is a scenario that can make all of life meaningless.

I came to this decision a little while before I was baptized. I don't know if life is real. I do have a choice though. I choose to believe that life is real, that is has a purpose, that I am not just some medical experiment. I choose to have faith. Faith is the only answer that transcends all questions.

You can tell me that I am just processing my emotions in a certain way, but I have to say, that view is depressing and God is waiting for you. I love you Daryl, and I am praying for you.

Visa Problems

You want to know the truth? Why else would you be reading this if you didn't? I have been trying to live my life these past few months under the premise of absolute honesty. Half truths and partial lies have been a part of who I was since middle school, and now I have been struggling to tell the truth, and nothing else.

The truth right now, at this moment and for the past few days, is that I am scared. I am afraid that I will have to go back, back to America... Home... While the prospect fills me with joy at the possibility of seeing my friends and family, of being where things are normal, where things are safe. I have found myself day dreaming and wondering what I would do if I did in fact have to go home. Then, like a door slamming down the hall, I am brought back to this moment. I am brought to reality. I remember why I came, I remember my desire to STAY, and I am torn. I feel disappointed with myself for entertaining the thoughts of returning with such a warm and pleasant attitude.

When I am brought back to the present, to the fact that I am indeed still here, I start to think of what being here has accomplished. What have I done? How have I changed anything? Have I been a good enough example of God's love? Has God changed anything in me? What? On and on with the questions and worries.

It has boiled down in my mind to this. What am I to learn from this experience? The situation is simple enough. Bureaucracy is complex and we are at the end of the rope with my visa. Down to 4 days before it expires, it is getting too close for my comfort and I am starting to worry. The lessons could be anything, but here are some guesses I have.
     One could be that God wants to test my patience and my nerves and yet show that He is in control. This would be accomplished by my visa extension being approved at or near the last minute. It would show that God finishes things in His own time, and that He does things when everything is ready.
     The other, near as I can figure, is that I am not meant to be here. Maybe I wasn't supposed to come here, maybe I was supposed to go somewhere else, or worse yet, stay at Walla Walla.

The only thing that I can do is pray. The problem with prayer is that I am so emotional,so confused about where I want to be, I don't know what to pray for. Should I pray to stay? Should I pray to go? The best I can manage is to pray for some semblance of peace and that God would lead me, showing me where and what I am supposed to do. I don't know what else to do...

Edit:

My biggest fear about returning home is that one some level it would represent some kind of failure. I am afraid that it will be yet another thing that I didn't see to the end...

Sad Sky

"The sky is about to cry," Maria said this today. I liked it. It was cloudy and overcast, and there was a nip in the air as a humid cold had followed the clouds to Dnepropetrovsk. She had said this to Greg, and continued on by saying, "It is sad because you are leaving."

Gregory Wilkinson, one of my hall-mates and friends from Walla Walla University this last year came to Ukraine on Wednesday and arrived in Dnepropetrovsk really late. I was so excited to see him. Another American, and one that I knew! A few weeks ago there was a wonderful gentleman by the name of Christopher Beason who came to shoot a video for the Christian School here at the Church, but I didn't know him. This was my friend! When I got to the bus station to pick him up, I was early. I waited until the time came that his bus was supposed to arrive, but it didn't show up at 10:15 pm... or 10:30... or even 10:45!

By now I was worried, but luckily I was with Pastor Alexi who went and asked the clerk at the ticket counter what was going on. He found out that Greg's bus would be late.  If I hadn't found out that his bus was late, I don't know how I would have survived the next 45 minutes! I was getting worried that I hadn't seen him on one of the buses that had come and gone, and it had only been 20-30 minutes, imagine if I had to wait another 45. I would have been freaking out. When he got here, we took him back to the church and went to bed late (or early, depending on how you view 12:30 am).

Thursday, I showed him around the church and we went to my classes. I attempted to teach him some Russian, but to be fair, for me to teach Russian is more than a little bit like a blind guy leading the blind. I also tried to show him how to teach, but considering I know almost nothing myself and I don't even know how to teach well, this was worse than me teaching Russian...

Friday was an action packed day, filled with preparing for Friday Night (our English Speaking Club that we use as an outreach tool), visiting the class of a wonderful and entertaining teacher, Skyping with some of the best people ever (Anne Mulder, Kyle Jacobson, and Heather Ueeck), finishing with Friday Night. I think that Friday Night went really well. Our topic was "Travel/Traveling" and we discussed some vocab for travel, some quotes about travel, and ultimately tied it to the Bible. Our question that we decided to leave everyone with was something to the effect of, "What is your destination in life? Are you going to the cemetery or heaven?"

Then we had a lovely Sabbath, went to church, and I saw Greg off at the bus station. I am so thankful that I got to spend a few days with Greg, and I hope that I can spend more days with him in the future.