Disclaimer: These daily blogs are based on journal entries during my two and a half week trip broken into seven installments. Over the next week, you will learn more and more. The idea behind doing it this way is so you can go through the process of experiencing a portion of my experiences in the same progression of events that I did. The goal is that by the end of the seventh blog, you will have the context to understand why and how I intend to continue serving these people.
A Place the Government Prohibits the Gospel: Day 7 -- August 10, 2013

Today was a much different day in many ways. We did not go to the Gypsy village today. Instead, we drove about an hour east to an orphanage of about 350 kids aged infant-17. This orphanage is where last year’s July team from the Well Community Church went. Between last year and this year, things have changed; the Ukrainian orphanage is now paid by the Russian government to keep Christians out of the orphanage, both missionaries and prospective parents. Moreover, if the Russian government catches them, they risk dire consequences, and since the Ukrainian police are corrupt, carrying out said consequences would not be difficult. Reluctantly, they let us in only to play with the kids, no Bible teaching, and that was only because they had become comfortable with the Hope for Orphans organization from past interactions. Therefore, we played with the kids for a few hours until the kids entered their daily quiet time an hour or so past noon.

One of the young kids, he was six, was a boy named Yura in a purple tie-dye shirt, the only shirt he owns. Every backyard activity I participated in, he followed. Some of us started playing volleyball, and there he was with his bright enormous mouth-wide-open smile. Then when I sat on the bench to catch my breath, there he was sitting next to me. When they called the kids in for quiet time, he put his hand around my back and leaned his head against my arm to say goodbye.

The orphanage is setup like a prison, in plain terms. The rooms are about two/thirds the size of a dorm room, where five-eight kids stay. They have set mealtimes with a twenty-minute allotment at each of the three mealtimes for which if the kid misses, they miss that meal. Between breakfast and dinner, with the exception of lunch and mandatory “in-room” quiet time (about an hour and a half) in the afternoon, the kids are free to play in the “backyard.” If you walk behind the orphanage, you’ll see a long staircase down to their backyard area; a high fenced play area where they are limited to soccer and working out. One thing my team and I noticed was that girls did not play. They sat on a bench and watched. The only other backyard activity the kids have is playing in the river, even more so down the hill on top of which the orphanage sits.

During their quiet time, we went to the river beneath the orphanage to have lunch. After lunch, we went back and our national host arranged them to let us do our program for just the evening, as long as we were quick to avoid any police interaction. We setup our stage in the lobby, right near the front entrance. “Purple Tie-dye Shirt Yura” saw me right in front leading worship and got as close as he could to the front, and even got up to be my partner during one of the songs (the picture above).

After leading worship, which was longer than usual, I headed toward the back to the door to get a little air and so the next part of the program could take the stage. When I got to the door, I saw a police officer walk toward the entrance and my whole body froze in panic. Up until that point in my life, I have never been more scared in my life. Thankfully, though, he was a security guard hired by the orphanage to watch for behavior issues and deal with troublesome kids.

During the program, I met a young man also by the name of Yura who was 15; we had a lengthy conversation and he inspired me on so many levels. He is fluent in English because the parents who are adopting him had him sent to live with them for the summer for two months and they paid for him to learn to speak English verbally and written, in an accelerated language learning program. His soon-to-be father and mother live in Seattle and work for Microsoft and Starbucks Corporate respectively. He wore a shirt from Arizona State University where he said he wants to go after completing high school where he wants to study linguistics and become a translator to help improve the lives of Ukrainian orphans.

I asked “Arizona State Yura” and “Purple Tie-dye Shirt Yura” and what he told me overwhelmed me with sadness. His parents, who are of some wealth, brought him to the orphanage because they did not want him anymore. Why he has not been adopted yet, according to Arizona State Yura, is because when prospective parents ask why he is at the orphanage, the directors say his rich parents brought him here because they did not want him anymore, which leaves a bad impression of him on parents—what could he have done? How bad is his behavior? However, Arizona State Yura told me Purple Tie-dye Yura is one of the best-behaved kids amongst the young orphans who always find reasons to be excited.

Toward the end of our nearly hour and a half conversation, parts in the rain—yes rain!—I asked if there was anything I could pray with him for and his response stopped me, overwhelmed me, and reminded me of one of my life verses: Daniel 3:17-18. He said, “People like you have come many times throughout my life here telling me how big God is and how I should pray because he has not forgotten me. The only prayer I have ever prayed all my life is to have a real family. I always asked God to give me a family and to make sure it is a good one. I never stopped praying that. I never gave up because I figured God was looking for a good family to take me. Now he has and it’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted and asked for.”

Daniel 3:17-18 is about Hadrack, Meshack and Abednigo about to be thrown into the fiery furnace and they declare to King Nebuchadnezzar: Our God can save us, but even if he does not, we will still praise Him! That is bold faith—that is what this boy has: God, I believe you can send me a good family and I will not stop praying and will keep waiting because I know you can! God has provided Arizona State Yura with a family starting hopefully this winter, a new name: James Yura Nichols, and an opportunity to escape the fate of most orphans with a dream to help those who live the life he has lived. After a giant bear hug, we left.

Less than five minutes after leaving, legitimate Ukraine police stopped us, and I have never been more scared than right then—I know I just said that several paragraphs ago, not the “up until that point.” With guns at their side, they inspected the van and thankfully did not ask to see identification because our passports were in Kyiv and we could have been detained and/or taken to the US Embassy in Kyiv. Nevertheless, we went on our way.

Before going back to our in-field host’s home, we stopped at an authentic Ukrainian restaurant for dinner. Strangely, I found a piece of glass in my tooth that came from my crepe. I was talking to Chelsea when I bit on the piece of glass; I pulled it out of my mouth and it looked like a small piece of ice but it was not cold, so I was confused. I finished my sentence with Chelsea and then asked our national host sitting next to me what that was and he freaked out asking where I found that. Upon communicating the deep concern to the waitress, my meal was free, along with a complimentary slice of tiramisu as a way to express their apologies. A crazy end to the day, but the crepe was incredibly tasty—despite the glass—and by the time we arrived home, we were all worn out.