Wrong Place at the Right Time

First off, I just want to say that I feel a little bit hypocritical saying this. Since I started this blog, some two, two-and-a-half years ago, I have always said that no matter where you are, you can be a missionary, that you can do outreach, that you can be a light. I'm not here to say that I'm going against my word.

What I am saying is just because you believe something doesn't always mean that you feel it.

It's May 26th. A year ago tomorrow, I would have been in the Omaha airport, preparing to take off for my second trip to Russia and the Baltic States. Two years ago today, I would have been five days into my first trip over there.

Today, one of my best friends left for London. Another friend of mine is with her college choir traveling across Estonia and Lativa, soon to be Lithuania and Russia. Natalie, a girl who went with me on my first trip, is posting pictures from her excursions on her current mission trip.

And here I am, in Nebraska.

Visited my mom at camp this weekend, since I had a three day weekend. Was walking around with a friend of mine, someone who has grown from one of my campers in the past, when I was a staff member at this camp, to a junior counselor, to being on staff. Today, as we were in Wal-Mart and she was asking me all these questions about being a staff member, she turns to me and says "Steph, when are you coming back to camp? I mean, to stay?" Not the first time the thought of returning to camp full-time has occurred to me. I mean, I'm not leaving the country this summer. I could have come back to what used to be my second home, my favorite place on earth, my mission field of choice (as though we get to choose where our mission fields are...) before Russia.

But I'm not coming back to camp. I'm in Seward working for the summer.

Just got off of a very nice, long Skype date with my boyfriend. Haven't seen him since May 11, won't get to see him until June 6, and that visit is looking more and more brief as our scheduling continues. We've been in a long-distance relationship since January, and it's not going to be a small-distance relationship for at least seven months, potentially a year+. I miss him terribly, and our time together requires careful planning, travel expenses, and taking precious time off of work and out of paycheck.

Seeing someone I love and spending time with him has suddenly become an achievement, not an every day joy, because I'm in Nebraska and he's in Missouri.

The last time we were together, we took our sisters to see Wicked. We ended up getting stuck in Lincoln on the way home because of very very bad weather, and we spent hours trying to decide what our safest options were, because we were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I'm not necessarily in the wrong time now - when it comes to serving others, to loving God with actions and service, there's no wrong time. And in all reality, there's no wrong place.

But I'm stuck in one of those ruts - it's not a deep one, but it seems to be a fairly long one, almost like a ditch that I'll have to walk in for a while before I find a decent way up to the easy road. It seems very easy to point to different places on a map, or different faces in my heart, and say "There. That's where I need to be," or "That's who I need to be with."

I'm finding these thoughts to be dangerous temptations and distractions. I'm tempted to think that because I'm not in a certain place or with certain people that I am useless, or that my work is meaningless, and I am gently reminded by our loving Savior that this is very much not the case.

I'm not in Russia, I'm here in Nebraska. And do you know what I'm doing because I'm staying in the States? I get to help out with RFKC again this year, something that conflicted timing wise with my mission trip last year. Because I'm in Nebraska right now, I get to share God's love with children who have never known any sort of love from anyone. That's what I get to do because I'm in the "wrong place."

I'm not working at camp this summer, I'm working at my school, serving people in various capacities that I never expected to enjoy. I get to prepare the dorms, the living spaces, for students who are coming to the school perhaps for their first time. I get the opportunity to make school feel like home to them, to create a clean, welcoming environment that will make them feel safe and comfortable. I also have been blessed with the opportunity to prepare and upkeep one of our dormitory buildings for service men and women who are working in the tornado-damaged areas nearby. I may never meet them and get to thank them for their services, but I get to make sure that while they're in Nebraska, they come back from a hard day's work to a comfortable, clean living space. That's what I get to do because I'm in the "wrong place."

I don't get to see my boyfriend every day. But I do get the opportunity to experience what a distance relationship is like, and I'm convinced that this will someday be something that I can look back on and be able to connect to someone else with because I've been through this experience. He and I are also learning more about God's love, and His constant presence, something that I'm always grateful for when I'm away from people I love - I know I can always count on my Heavenly Father to be constantly present both for me and for those who I'm missing. That's what I'm learning because I'm in the "wrong place."

Satan is the father of lies, and I do not hesitate to use that title now. He uses my doubts, my fears, my worries, my moments of sorrow to convince me that I'm in the wrong place, that I can't really glorify God or rejoice in His daily gifts because I'm in the "wrong place."

Tonight, I rejoice in the loving kindness and love of my Savior who pulls me close to His side and reminds me that none of these things are true and that, when it comes to service in His Kingdom, there's absolutely no such thing as a wrong place.

Goodnight, friends. God bless you, be you in the "right" or "wrong" place.

Mas

Mas. The Spanish word for more.

That's what Christmas becomes when you take Christ out of it. Now, I will now claim that this is an original thought. I'm sure someone else has thought of it before.

This was all occurring to me as I sat through a rather tense (at least for me) Christmas Eve celebration. This particular family believes that holidays are meant to be celebrated for the purpose of seeing loved ones, tasting everyone's cooking abilities, and giving each other gifts. It also seems to be a prime time for practicing one's debate skills and seeing how long one can be in the lime light of the evening.

Tonight's discussion turned to the recent issue of Duck Dynasty and the controversy over one's rights to record their religious beliefs. What a beautiful night to remember where it Christian beliefs came from and to be thankful for the babe who grew up to be our Savior!

Instead, our host, gracious though she was, chose to voice her disdain for public Christianity. How awful, on the eve of Jesus' birth.

It made me stop and think how ugly America's Christmas has become. We've become so focused on the way-to-early Christmas things being sold, the sick and semi-dangerous shopping rushes, and who will produce and receive the best gifts, which, lest we forget, are given in remembrance of the most Precious Gift, our LORD and Savior, Jesus Christ. We've lost our focus, and I would like to bring it back before the next generation celebrates their first Christmas.

As my ranting session comes to a close, I'd like to share a classic on this eve of CHRISTmas, and wish you all a safe and blessed Christmas that you are able to celebrate, share, remember, and give thanks for with family and/or friends. God bless you, readers.

Linus tells it like it is.

Finishing Up Entries - Video

Final Day

So, this isn't actually a journal entry - Hospital 8 kind of took it out of me, so what I'm blogging now is from my memory and my photo library.

We had a really great last day of mission work, and it was really hard to leave after such a great day. We started out at Kingasepp, which is sponsored in part by a church in Hastings, the same one that Michael (the one we nicknamed Coach,) goes to. We met a few of the kids, but most of them were at summer camp. The ones we met, though, were ADORABLE. I latched on to a super shy little girl, who wouldn't even look at me, even when I gave her bubbles. This is one of the best pictures I got of her:

I mean, we got a little smile out of her, but not much of one. Not yet, any way. There were two other girls that came in to interact, and they LOVED the bubbles! They played with Michael (the nonCoach one... It gets confusing...) the entire time we were in there. They were all sorts of giggly and happy to accept fruit and gifts from us. 

Eventually, my little friend got involved with them, and then she opened up and smiled to. I found out that the girl in the blue dress is sisters with her, and when the older one pulled the younger one in for pictures, I started to get some smiles, and she even came up and blew bubbles in my face! (By the way, I may have been cleaner when I left that orphanage than when I entered, what with about three containers of bubbles emptied onto my face...) Here's my favorite picture of the sisters:

 As we drove to our last orphanage of the day, it kind of hit me: This was going to be it. This was my final day with my "Russia family," my last interaction with kids in an orphanage, my final moments as a missionary. At this point in the trip and in my life, I wasn't sure if I'd ever be coming back. I was taking so much in every day, that I hadn't really considered the job offer from Priozorsk. I wasn't sure if being a missionary was what I was supposed to do, or if I would ever make it back on even a short term trip. These kids were going to be my final interactions, as far as I knew.

I tried really hard to not let that affect my attitude as we entered our final orphanage, one that we had never visited before. The Bible story, led by Michella, Michael, and Coach, went great. The kids were very polite and very attentive. When we were handing things out, one of the things we handed out was a soccer ball, and we were asked to play with the kids. That's all we did, for a good thirty or forty-five minutes. As we played, a huge thunderstorm started rolling in, but nobody really seemed to care. We had such a great time, even if we did get badly beaten by the Russian kids... Yeah, sorry American soccer players, but we kinda ruined your reputation... We were not good, but we were entertaining, and that was what was important.

Sunday, June 9, 2013: Day 14

Today was extremely emotionally challenging for me. We went to Hospital 8, which is the hospital for elderly people who are homeless. I tried to prepare myself mentally (we had gone there last year,) but I still wasn't ready to go back in. As we pulled in to the tight driveway, I started to shake. I was crying by the time we got out of the van.

When we got past the awful staircase that patients are bounced up when they're brought in, I locked up. It was so hard for me to consider going back, and once we got into the rooms, I had to force myself to smile - those people don't need any more tears.

Karen helped me out, though - getting involved takes my mind off all of it. Karen had me spoon feed a guy who couldn't si tup, who could barely support himself to lean up on his arm. It really did help me to help someone else. When he (Nickoli was his name,) was done, he just held my hand and stared at me and smiled at me. He spoke very little English, and my Russian barely gets me through "What is your name?" For a while, we just talked to each other in our own language, had a conversation that I'll never know the literal translation to, but could see the meaning to it in his eyes. I left his room and couldn't stop crying.

The lead paint is still peeling. There's still too many people to a room. The food looked atrocious. The bandages were less than fresh. That place isn't a hospital - it's a slow torture chamber, and I left people in there. Again.

That has to be the worst part - walking away. I didn't recognize anyone in there, which means ,more than likely, the people we saw last year have passed away. The chances of anybody recovering in that situation are slim. I have to wonder how many people do walk out of there - but then I stop, because I'm afraid of the true statistics.

I feel bad for not taking more pictures (I took 2 and then had to stop,) and for not making more powerful connections, like I did with Nickoli. I just couldn't make myself move. I just stood in the hallway and absorbed everything - the woman who said "Don't waste a Bible on me - I'm nearly blind, close to dying, and I'm a Christian. Give that Bible to someone who needs it;" the 33-year-old woman who is stuck in the hospital; the woman curled up in the fetal position, unmoving, apathetic, basically ready to go; Nickoli, barely strong enough to prop himself up on his arm; the 56-year-old war vet who is nearly completely healthy except for his missing limbs.

Images like that are engraved in my mind, forever.

Friday, June 7, 2013: Day 12

Oh my goodness, today has been excellent. We started off at Pavlovsk, the largest orphanage that we work with that's home specifically to children who have disabilities.

Side note: We tried going to this building last year, but were unable to get in. I posted that story in this entry: May 30th, 2012, and it may be beneficial to readers to reread it before continuing...

We went to a building where they have classes for kids who are able to participate. We saw an art class, a cooking class, a building/constructing class, and a choreography class. They put on two WONDERFUL performances for us! The teacher was wonderful, and he made me smile, besides the kids, who were just having a great time. Here's a video of one of their performances...

I think one of the most disheartening things about visiting this orphanage, or others that are of a similar nature, is all the kids who are in there because of physical handicaps, rather than mental. Not because they're unhappy, because they all seemed quite content. It's because of their futures - every one of these kids, with any sort of infirmity, is headed for a "human warehouse," as Pastor calls it. This just has to be one more situation where I need to be grateful for what is rather than wishing for what could be. At least these kids have 18 years (sometimes more, depending on the institution,) to laugh, smile, and learn about God's love. All the workers seem to love their job and the kids, and the kids are all smiling and happy. It really is a nice place - just hard to think about what comes after for them.

Side note: After some reflection time upon returning to the States, I remembered being very upset by this orphanage last year, despite the fact that we weren't able to go in. We had been informed that this orphanage would be hard to visit because of the kids who were bedridden - their situations were often bad, and they weren't necessarily as comfortable as the children I got to meet on this day. However, last year, we were unable to get in, and I consoled myself with the idea that I was not emotionally prepared to meet those kids. 

This year, we were able to go in, so I thought that I'd be more ready, more prepared. But this year, we didn't go past the classrooms. We only saw kids who were mobile and active, participating in extracurricular activities. 

Two years in a row, I haven't seen those kids who I saw pictures of last year, who I heard stories of, who I was warned I wouldn't want to take pictures of because I would only hurt more every time I looked at them. Something tells me that God's protecting me from what I would see, that I'm just not supposed to meet them in person.

However, that doesn't stop me from thinking that they still need our prayers - in fact, it makes me think that they need our prayers more than ever. Those kids are hurting a lot, are trapped inside feeble bodies or feeble minds, and have been brutally cast aside by their society. I pray that the love of God still reaches them, that they are blessed with gentle and loving staff members who care about the children, not just about their pay. I pray that somewhere, within those walls, these kids can build a relationship with someone, learn to love someone, at least one someone, and that their lives are not complete loneliness. I pray that one day, I will be able to hug their perfect bodies in heaven, bodies that will have no blemishes, no disabilities, no limitations at all, bodies that will join me in praising our Father in heaven, forever and ever.

On a much brighter note, we visited Volosovo today!!! This time around, almost all the kids were there and the little ones were up from their nap! Last year, most of the older kids were in school, and the younger ones were napping when we got there, so we didn't get much interaction with anyone aside from the director, which was fine, but it was nice to meet the kids this year!! We had so much time to interact with the kiddos! Also, they were super hyper and a ton of fun. 

Our director, Olga, is a very, very nice woman who works hard for the orphanage and the kids. She is very grateful for Friedensau's help and sent me a gift for the church - a paper Chinese folding paper swan - it's gorgeous. It was such a fun day, and I loved getting to see our orphanage again - such a blessing for me to go back!

Thursday, June 6, 2013: Day 11

Today was really neat! We started off at the orphanage that James's and Rachel's family sponsor. Technically it's a shelter in Tihkvin. The director there is a wonderful, firm woman, but at the same time, we can see how much she loves the kids and her job.

She shared with us that the Tihkvin community is home to a war memorial, dedicated to two young boys, about sixteen years old, who joined the Russian army to fight the Germans. The shelter has taken on the responsibility of keeping up the maintenance and appearance of the memorial, very similar to how my high school NHS adopted a highway to keep up. The kids seem very excited about their new responsibility.

James, Rachel, and I shared the story of David and Goliath again, and it went over super well! Nickoli had a young man approach him and say that he knew that story because he'd read the Bible - THAT was an awesome moment!

When we were handing out Bibles, we had a VERY high demand for them. Unfortunately, we ran out of Bibles before we ran out of kids. When the girls were asking for a Bible, they asked me in English! These girls were beautiful, too, with infectious smiles and golden brown eyes. I wrote them a note on some paper, and they understood at least some of it - it was really neat. I also signed my name in Russian for one girl, and she really seemed to at least appreciate my efforts! The 3 girls who I took a picture with were Sasha, Nastia, and Darina. Super smart, beautiful, and outgoing - I hope those girls continue to do well and become successful in their futures!

From L to R: Darina, Sasha, myself, Nastia, and Rachel

 After the shelter, we went to the abandoned baby orphanage in Tihkvin. They house children from ages 0-3. When we went there, it was right after the 2.5-3 year olds woke up. They came in to the room we were waiting in where they each had their clothes laid out on their own chair. Each kid knew which chair was his/her's, and they went straight to put their clothes on.

The chairs laid out with clothes before the babies came in.

I went to help a little girl, and when she was dressed, she climbed into my arms, wrapped her own arms around my neck, and wouldn't let go.

We stayed like that for about ten minutes, just holding on to each other. I could feel her grasp harder, if that was even possible, each time I shifted. Her head was buried in my neck, and we rocked and cuddled - I fell in love IMMEDIATELY. 

Saying goodbye was hard. Nickoli said I probably gave that little girl more attention in those ten or fifteen minutes than she'll probably get in the next month. As sick as that makes me, I have to keep focusing on the positive: at least I had the opportunity to hold her, for however brief a time. 

Our final orphanage of the day was a little bit interesting. We hadn't ever been there as a whole group before, only Nickoli and Valentina had ever gone out there before, so the director was a bit nervous, and was even more apprehensive when we settled down for a Bible story. However, we shared, captivated the kids, and all went over well. There were several older kids there, and we didn't hadn out too many Bibles - I think the fear of the unknown overtook them, but were were able to connect with them, which was good for an initial meeting. 

All in all, we had a really great day! Tomorrow we get to go to my church's orphanage, and I'M SO EXCITED!!!