Kiev revisited

These are some of the sights I found when I googled Kiev. It's amazing how we literally have the world, and our failing memories, at our fingertips with the web. Although the pictures are lovely, touching and thought-provoking, what speaks louder to me are some of the faith stories. Here are a few that my aging brain somehow managed to file away... Bleach blond, coy blue eyes peeking out of a heart-shaped face, my roommate Lena had such a gentle spirit and sweet laugh. She giggled often, at my silly questions, at my appalling lack of Russian, at my bratty whining. One day as the summer morphed into weeks, one day after we'd bridged the gaps of small talk, one day I asked her about my favorite topic at the time ... boys. "So, Lena," I teased a bit, "is there a special boy on the trip for you?"
Under a cerulean Ukrainian sky, we sat on the edge of the windmill, swinging our legs off the side, probably violating some Soviet statute.
"Uh, no." She emphatically responded. "Don't be crazy."
"Come on," I continued, "There must be someone you like... David, Brian maybe?"
"Anneka (her Russian nickname for me), Anneka, I do not have time for such silly things like boys."
"Why not?" I wondered, genuinely baffled.
"I have Jesus in my life. He's the only boy I need."
I came halfway across the world to learn one of the most profound messages a girl can ever know. Thank you, Lena, for showing me the real secret to happiness.

Melancholy grace

Today I caught a glimpse of a shadow of God's grace... my husband is traveling, something he does quite often. Usually our little life continues on back home; this time was different.

"Where's your next trip, Honey?" We leaned over the family calendar, filling it with the details of our life together.

"Kiev," he replied.

I had a catch in my spirit. Kiev. That's the city of my senses - the smell of woodsy, red and yellow matroushka dolls sold by street vendors, the vivid blues and yellows of the austere buildings, the gruff sounds of the melancholy language whispered on crowded street cars.

"Kiev," he said again wistfully, knowing my attachement to this far away land. I stood speechless, lost in the memories for a moment...

I paused a moment and the wheels starting churning. How could I go with him?? If I could replicate myself, maybe, but as I'm no Jane Jetson, I released my fleeting idea. I've traveled with him before to exotic places as a tag along on business trips - Hawaii, Italy. Some lovely memories we've made on our journeys together. Those were simpler times. So I sit at the computer, googling Kiev. This time he is in a city that God used beautifully and humbly in my journey with Him. I was barely twenty; it was half a lifetime ago, and yet it feels like... yesterday. It's a cliche, but rings so true in my heart. He asked me where he should visit... my mind was fuzzy, as there seems to be little spare room in my gray matter for details other than clean jerseys and what to do with the defrosting chicken in the fridge. (To be continued...)

How Will You Celebrate Your Birthday?

Ecclesiastes 3:11 "He has made everything beautiful in his time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they can not fathom what God has done from beginning to end."

Princes, knights and castles. A much-anticipated day, the house buzzed with the frenectic joy of 15 three year olds decked out as knights and princesses. The blonde, shy birthday boy wore his plastic knight's breast plate and helmet proudly, wielding his sword in his chubby right hand as he frolicked with his buddies. The warm buttery smell of popcorn filled the air as the March wind blew outside the sliding glass door. The culminating present that year was a dazzling blue training wheel bike, complete with yellow racing stripes and a jarring horn that he loved to push over and over and over. It was Ben's third birthday party. He loved sword-fighting and making castles, so the theme he chose was no surprise.

Fast forward seven years and my little toe-headed Benjamin is not so little anymore. He turns ten next week and he is the tallest in his class. His blond hair has been polished into a light brown, worn in a shaggy surfer style that is so popular in our hometown. His long legs show ten years of bumps and bruises from many adventures climbing the welcoming magnolia tree outside our front door, riding and occasionally toppling off of his adult-sized bike, and colliding on the trampoline with his friends. His third grade year was a doozy - frustrating parent-teacher conferences, inconclusive doctor visits, hopeful and tear-filled prayers. Seeking a balance between embracing his uniqueness and holding him to the fire, in God's sweet grace, he has brought us all into a more peaceful year. It's not a perfect year, but it certainly has fewer potholes.

When talk of his birthday celebration arose I wondered what he would choose as his theme for a party - lazer tag, indoor carting, paint ball? "Mom, what I really want to do is get baptized." Wow, that option had not even been on my radar. I had thought secular; he thought spiritual. I had thought now; he was thinking forever. Thank you, Jesus, for setting eternity into the heart of my son, my ten year old, curious and crazy little boy, turned young man of God.