The Heart of the Matter

Good grief!  Jamie's bride Dasha was among our guests here the other night.  She explained to us that during this Christmas holiday for the students, the teachers still needed to show up at work.  No specific work and no specific hours, but the principal needed to see that each teacher was present.

Dasha's job one day was to go to all the flats in a specific apartment building, knock on the door, and write down the names and ages of all school-aged children.  (Other teachers were assigned other buildings.)  Many people refused to open their doors; some claimed to have no children living in their flats.  Dasha was only able to list 7 children in the entire complex.  She wasn't sure exactly why she was given this task -- no explanation was given to her, so she had no explanation to give to those who asked when she appeared at their doors.  The assumption is to be sure that all children are receiving an education SOMEWHERE, even if not in the public school system.

And then Dasha laughingly reached into her purse and pulled out a scrap of paper that was her official receipt for her pay.  A Ukrainian musician was also visiting us, and he said that he had never seen such a thing:  The receipt showed that she had earned about 400 griven for the month, and yet she was only paid 50!  (5 griven is slightly more than 1 dollar)  Fortunately for Dasha, she is not teaching for the money, at this point.  She is teaching English as part of her arrangement with her university, so that her education is basically free.  The question is whether ALL teachers are receiving this same pitiful pay, or does so much money go to the government because they are paying for her education. 

Dasha wonders how there can be ANY teachers willing to work for so little.  She is thankful that she is not dependent solely on her own salary. 

Please pray that the government of Ukraine will recognize the value of their teachers, and begin to pay them accordingly.  (And as I saw on many bumper stickers in the States:  If you can read this, thank a teacher!)

I was asked to write a bit about our Christmas shopping experience here in Kyiv.  Our personal experience will likely vary from others because we do not own a car and depend entirely upon public transportation, or a hailed car.

Early last week, Jim and I set out for a particular above-ground mall-like group of stores.  This is a newly-remodeled building called "Ukraine."  Clever so far, eh?  Last year we found a great sweater for Jeanne there so we thought this would be a good place to look for sweaters, or SOMETHING special, for Jeanne, Jamie and Dasha. 

We left our flat amidst snow flurries and walked several blocks to the tram stop -- Jim is great at remembering which direction we need to go and which number tram we need to ride.  I'd probably be going in circles if it were up to me.

We waited only about 5 minutes (thankfully there was not a breeze adding to the chill in the air), and as soon as we sat on the metal seat I remembered...the cold hard truth of shopping...always wear a coat long enough to sit on.  Whew!  If I hadn't been cold enough standing outside, sitting on the tram was a chilling experience.

We rode past a few locations selling Christmas trees.  Or, more like Christmas branches.  Or tops of Christmas trees.  And quite expensive.  We were impressed that this year the trees were actually available a full week ahead of the western Christmas day...when we first arrived in Kyiv we could find nothing decorative before the last couple of days of the year.  In Ukraine, New Year's is the big celebrated holiday where gifts are exchanged, and then Christmas is celebrated on January 7, according to the Orthodox calendar.  More and more protestant churches are celebrating Christmas on December 25, though, so it does feel more like Christmas earlier and earlier.

Anyway, back to shopping.  After our 30-minute ride to "Ukraine," we began exploring each of the stores inside, hoping that we would be inspired by what we saw.  I love to poke around in different stores and see if anything simply strikes me as the perfect gift for someone. 

We eventually arrived at the clothing store where we had found Jeanne's sweater the year before.  We were not too impressed with the offerings this year.  I have never quite understood why I would want to spend good money on clothes that looked like they have been wrung through a wringer over and over!  We noticed a white sweater that we thought Dasha might be able to wear as a teacher (not too casual for work, yet not so dressy that it looks like she is heading straight to a party!).  As we examined it more closely the head-banging music in the store got louder and louder.  I remarked to Jim that I wondered if they were trying to cause people to leave.  Well, that was exactly what they were doing.  As I glanced around I realized that buckets and mops were being placed strategically around the store, and the loud music was "music to mop by," not "shop by!"  Jim's watch showed 15 more minutes of shopping time left, but no one seemed much interested in waiting on us.

As we made our way back outside, we passed by a store that I had not remembered from the previous year.  The clothes actually looked classic.  No big holes in them.  Pretty colors.  Attractive styles.  We decided that we would head back there later in the week.

Though we intended to take the tram back home, while waiting for ours a marSHROOTka came by.  Marshrootkas are considered like buses, but smaller, a bit more expensive, and you can have the driver stop wherever you'd like along the route -- not just at official bus stops.  The challenge is actually getting on them.  These over-sized vans are jam-packed with people and if you want to be among the number, be prepared to be squished.  Jim and I were two of the last to get on at this particular location, so we were standing actually on the inside steps.  After a couple of stops I spotted a seat in the front of the van.  I slithered around passengers who chose to stand, and just as I was close to the seat, the van lurched forward.  I noticed a handrail just in front of my potential seat and grabbed ahold...only to find that the whole section of wall from floor to ceiling gave way.  Why they had a handle there I'll never know.  But both the money-taker and the driver were not impressed.  If looks could kill...

I sheepishly settled into my seat, peered through the crowd to catch Jim's eyes, and shrugged my shoulders.  I wasn't even sure how to express in Ukrainian what I was feeling, so I just sat there...mute!

I was thankful when it was time for us to exit.  After climbing over and around fellow riders, I took Jim's helping hand and jumped out.  We walked the few blocks home and entered our nice warm flat.

Though we came home with nothing except the experience itself, we were able to determine that there might be some good finds on a return trip.   And we settled back with a hot drink and Christmas cards to sign and turned on a Christmas video...all was well.

I originally sent this blurb out to our email list one year and one day ago today.  Today marks the 10th anniversary of my father's death.  When people ask you, "What's your dash?" meaning the time on your tombstone between birth and death, what will you say?  My dad could say lots.

Nine years ago tomorrow, my Dad died.  For many of us, he was a picture of compassion and humbleness, taking care of his family while still volunteering thousands of hours and donating thousands of dollars for civic, cultural and charitable causes that were close to his heart.  His name?  Harry Matthews.  You don’t remember him?!  You never heard of my dad?

For those of you old enough to remember The Donna Reed Show, one particular show featured Paul Petersen, the son of a busy pediatrician, practicing a special song to sing at a Father-Son banquet as a tribute to his father.  Of course, it turns out that the dad is called away on a medical emergency, the son decides to perform the song anyway, and standing in the wings of the stage IS his dad who has hurried back to the auditorium just in time to see his son perform. The words of the song began with “He isn’t much in the eyes of the world.  He’ll never make history.  No, he isn’t much in the eyes of the world, but he is the world to me:  My Dad.  Now here is a man.  To me, he is everything strong; no, he can’t do wrong:  My Dad.”  My sisters and I sang this song, and still do.  I’ll admit we were a little naïve, but that was how we felt.  And you say you didn’t know him?   

At this time of year I am particularly thankful that I had my father in my life for so many years.  And that he was a loving, caring parent, involving himself in all aspects of my life.  Back in the day, I sometimes wished he weren’t so interested!  He was there to challenge me, to encourage me, to discipline me, and to pick up the pieces when I failed. There was never any doubt whether he loved me or not.   

Years later, I remember being in discussions with people about God and how difficult it was for them to believe that He is a loving Father, the One who loves you unconditionally.  No one could be like that.  I was so surprised at the number of people who did not have a father like I did.  I knew that I had had many privileges growing up, but one of the greatest privileges of all was a father who cared.  And I thank God that He gave me such a dad; it made trusting my Heavenly Father so much easier!

And I pray that this Christmas season, even if you were not blessed with an earthly father like mine, that you will recognize the unconditional love of your Heavenly Father.  It’s too late to get to know my dad, but get to know my Father!  And I pray that you will reflect on the birth of His perfect Son who was born to die so that you might have life eternal.  And as Paul prayed for the Ephesians, I pray for you:  “…that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.  And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” 

To God be the glory, this Christmas season and forever! 

Great news!  Al and his new son William Anton Bevill will be boarding a plane to Birmingham, Alabama, tomorrow!  They will overnight in Amsterdam (at the airport if they do not have enough time to get a transient visa for Will!), and then will be reunited with Mama Andrea and sisters Olivia and Mary Catherine on Saturday afternoon.

Al and Andrea have spent just over 3 months in Kyiv (sometimes together; sometimes separately), but they agree that it is worth every minute to be able to provide a permanent home for Will.

If you get a chance, listen to Stephen Curtis Chapman's new Christmas CD.  One song could have been written by any number of children, including Will.  The song is a letter from a child making his one request for Christmas -- a family.  Someone to tuck me in.  Someone to say Happy Birthday to me.  Someone to comfort me when I lose and on whose shoulders I can ride when I win.

We have had the pleasure of hosting Al and Will for this final week of their stay in Ukraine.  We have witnessed the tender care of a Daddy, and the growing trust of his son.

Please pray for all the families going through this process -- it is a bureaucratic nightmare.

But the result is priceless.

(I obviously don't know how to properly add photos to my post, so click on Adoptions under Albums on the sidebar and see Father and Son leaving the orphanage...)

Not having lifted anything heavy, not having twisted in any unusual way, I am quite surprised and somewhat befuddled at why my back is in such pain this morning.  I was aware that SOMETHING was not quite right last night as I was leading a women's Bible study in our home, but I just assumed that I was a bit stiff from sitting in one position for so long while preparing for the study.

I'm not sure that explains the problem this morning.  I slept well.  But when I got up this morning to take an early shower before heading off to Jim's office, I could hardly climb out of the tub.  This is not at all typical, and, as you can guess, this is NOT a good time to be unable to move comfortably.  (When IS a good time?!)

Please pray for relief.  And also that God might show me His lesson in this...frequently when I have been forced to slow down, it was because I was simply being too busy and needed to reevaluate priorities.  Is that the issue here? 

I love Kyiv blanketed in snow.   It truly is a Winter Wonderland...especially on our street.  We live on a boulevard...two lanes of traffic each way, divided by a wide tree-lined walkway.  When Jim and I walked home from the store the other evening, we almost forgot we were in a major city.  White, quiet, clean. The snow covers the dirt and imperfections that are visible at all other times of the year. 

Through Christ, I have been cleansed; in God's eyes, I am whiter than snow.  Not because of anything that I have done; solely the work of Christ.  When God sees me, He sees me blanketed in the righteousness of Christ.  My imperfections are still there...just covered by the blood of Christ. 

Snow.  What a great reminder of Whose I am.

Today was one of those days that I am so thankful that I learned to make decisions about actions PRIOR to the occasions in which I would need to take some action.  For example, we decided as new Christians that we would make going to church a priority.  We didn’t wait to make the decision about whether to take our family to church until Sunday morning.  If we hadn’t predetermined to attend church faithfully, I am sure that we would eventually have missed as many Sundays as we went.  Who didn’t have days that it would sure have been easier to stay home?  

This morning I woke up to a pouring cold rain.  And I had committed to a Bible study at Jim’s office at 9:00 a.m.  Realizing that it takes 45 minutes to get there on public transportation, had I not predetermined to go, I’m sure I would have found a reason to stay home.

I am so thankful that I went.  As a team (2 Canadians, 2 Americans and 6 Ukrainians), we are studying what it actually means to be called a child of God.  We started by reading Galatians 4:1-7.  Christ redeemed us. God adopted us. God sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts.  He made us heirs, changing us from slaves.  Amazingly, we have the right and privilege to talk to God, our Father!  We have a relationship with Him.  And we can relax – we don’t have to earn this relationship.  We are under His leadership, and His protection.  We recognized that we have both rights and responsibilities.

Then we defined “incarnation,” and considered what difference the incarnation makes in our lives.  Ponder that for awhile.  What is Christmas all about?  God sent His Son into time and space…for what?  Amazing love.

I am amazed at the realization that I had bazillions of things that I knew I wanted to write about in this blog.  Hey, that's the reason I decided to begin one.

And, yet.  Here I sit.  Actually since Saturday this has been the case.  I sit.  I look at the blank screen.  I sit some more.  And I wonder what to actually write down!

I think of something...and then I veto it.  Who'd be interested in that?  And then I read with such interest quite a few other blogs -- and the topics are similar to what I had just vetoed! 

Jeanne has challenged me to blog the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  And Michelle is encouraging me to blog 10 minutes a day.  Minimum.

And Tatijana is encouraging me to spend more time on Ukrainian.  And Jim is encouraging me to spend more time preparing our Sunday school lessons.  And Victor is encouraging me to spend more time at the orphanage.  And the holidays demand more time in preparation.  And the Bible studies require time.     

And the Holy Spirit is encouraging me to spend more time quietly reflecting on God's Word.  S-L-O-W down...don't push things.

I think I'll listen to the Spirit.

"If you're worried and you can't sleep
Just count your blessings instead of sheep
And you'll fall asleep
Counting your blessings."

You may recognize those words written by Irving Berlin and sung by Bing Crosby in the 1954 Christmas classic "White Christmas."  Not bad advice, actually.  And I challenge each one of us to spend some time this holiday season really considering our blessings.  And then thank the One who provided them!

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights..."