Sorrow

I wrote of sorrow in my last blog. Today brought more. At church we learned that Ira, the twin sister of Natalya whom I have mentioned on the blog as being treated for cancer, was recently diagnosed with operable breast cancer. As we learned about this at church, it seemed a wave of sorrow inundated the room. Lots of tears and prayers. Sorrow is maybe the best word. The suffering of this one family is difficult to comprehend. Pray for Ira.

This sorrow overshadowed a very bright moment in the day--Oleg's first full-length sermon. It was quite good. He clearly had worked on it a lot. It seems our meeting together reaped a harvest. I think he felt good about it too. Hopefully he will bring many more sermons in the years ahead. He joins several others who preach in turns.

We had a terrible downpour as we tried to get Polina's mom, grandmother, and Polina to the taxi van. They were with us over the weekend. It seems the strain of our leaving is getting to us all in one way or another. It's a stressful time. Monday morning is our interview for Lena's immigrant visa. We spent the afternoon going through all the papers again, discussing everything again, and making sure I could remember answers to questions like "How did you meet? When did you get married? When did you start dating?" It's hard to know what interviewers might ask or how much they will pry. By the time most of you read this, it will be over. Hopefully, all will go well and within a week, Lena's passport should be delivered. And then we can finally tell people for certain, Yes, we are leaving on July 1. Actually, we then have to confirm our seats on the plane and then we will be able to make more significant plans for the future.

I know I can't get into too many details, but please pray a "general" prayer for all the people we minister to. It's not that big of a group at this point, but there are specific needs: for discernment, for insight, for wisdom, for patience, for grace, for mercy, for healing.

Pray for me too. This Saturday was somewhat difficult. I think I am beginning to realize that my life IN Kyiv is coming to a close. Hopefully, we will come back for visits. And we will remain in touch through Skype. But I am coming to understand that the whole direction of my life since 1992 is going to take a turn. I suppose I don't like not knowing exactly what that will be. I like the comfort of knowing. It is, I think, a kind of sorrow too.