Saturday

It seems that often things never happen quite as you plan, or as you imagine they will be. But what does happen turns out to be just as good as what you imagined would be. I guess I had never imagined my last day in Kyiv. I kept thinking I have to do something significant, something memorable. Go to some place in the city, some kind of good bye ritual. A long way through Kyiv. That would have been nice. But what we did do turned out to be better because we spent time with people we loved, and that's what really matters in life.

But Lena woke up still not well though the fever was gone. I slept in. Luggage had to be packed and weighed. These new weight limits on luggage very much problematize moving across the ocean. I would add one thing and then weigh a bag. Take something else out. Fortunately, Vitaly and Lera are bringing two bags for us, so things that don't fit hopefully will make it to Nashville in a month. I ate some zharkoe for lunch and Lena mostly slept during the day. Then, I decided I would go to the post office to buy some Kyiv post cards. Of course, that section was closed but I was successful. And bought some zoo post cards for Polina. Oleg then came by I gave him a special gift and we talked a while. He has been so supportive. Finally, everyone was awake and feeling better and it seemed we would be able to go out eat tonight downtown. Oksana and Oleg came. She had been gone for several days and missed all the chances for good bye. We did go to Globus and I had solyanka. It was warm. I was grateful. I will have to figure out how to make solyanka (a sour pickle soup with lemon, olives, and several different kinds of sausage--kind of like bologna). I am concerned, though, that the selection of sausage (the Slavic kind, not the US southern kind or the German kind) in Abilene might be much to be desired.
I then had the Italian ice cream I like. We also ran around the food court with Polina.

On the way back we walked down Kreshatik and Polina then decided that she needed to go to the bathroom. Since she doesn't wear pampers at this point, she decided to take a poop among the evergreen trees right in front of the Kyiv City Council building and the mayor's office. She then threw a wild fit when we tried to leave and finally calmed down and went to sleep quickly when we came back. We then prayed together, showed the family where we live in Abilene, and everyone went to sleep.

It's the last night. The last blog from Kyiv. It has been a great adventure. It didn't always feel like an adventure. But it was really. Learning a new language. Figuring out how to stand in line by swinging to the right when needed. Coming to see that people matter more than time or systems. Learning that conversation over a home cooked meal is one of the best ways in the world to spend time. That living in spartan house for a week with 30 people causes you to learn to love people in a way that you could never imagine. Coming to understand that "no" doesn't always mean no; you just got to ask in a different way. Knowing the joy of baptizing someone who has spent three years coming to faith. And then the great joy of teaching that person how to baptize someone that they have brought to faith. Listening to people pray for the very first time. Telling the stories of Jesus to a person that has never heard of the feeding of the 5,000 or the miracle of his birth. Engaging in hours of conversation about why I believe in Christ. And the inexpressible joy of seeing one of those people come to believe. Marrying an absolutely wonderful, gracious, courageous, beautiful person just a few months after, in my heart, I had given up hope of getting married. (Lena, whenever you read this blog, I love you and I am so thankful to God that you have crossed the ocean with me. You are my joy. Skoro nasha Masya budyet.)

Thank you, Kyiv, for letting me walk your streets, kick your fallen kashtani, slip on your icy sidewalks, stand in your lines, get yelled at by your bureaucrats and babushki, eat your fresh baton and bulachki smakom, search for your elusive Coca Cola Light, take walks in your long summer days, drink your kukvleni mors, ride your crowded trolleybuses, enjoy your opera house, gulyat in your parks.

But more than that, thank you Kyiv for letting me become friends with the people who call this place their home. They have taught me more than I ever taught them. They taught me that it is possible to change, that faith is alive and real and growing and can transform even the most broken person. You have taught me patience as you listened to my broken Russian and with terpenye tried to figure out what in the world I was saying. You have praised my cooking even probably when you didn't like it or thought it was weird. You have taught me what it means to pray and to care more for people than for organization. You have taught mean that its more important to begin when everyone is there than when the clock tells us to begin. You have let me listen to you read and think about the Bible in a way that I never would have had I not lived here. You have taught me what it means to be faithful to friends and how to celebrate birthdays. You have taught me that joy can be found even in the hardest moments and most difficult situations.

Thank you, Nivki church, for allowing us to be in your life. Thank you. We will not forget you.