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Just a taste of life around here

This week, I left Romaiv mad. It was a pretty typical day at Romaniv, but I fumed for nearly 30 minutes as I drove our team home and then finally broached the topic with another team member. It was better than keeping it bottled in and ready to explode, but I was still mad by the time we arrived home. 

I was mad about everything. Every last stupid, unjust, inevitable, avoidable, unintentional, deliberate, gosh darn thing that I had seen that day. Nothing too out of the ordinary, but for some reason yesterday the ordinary absolutely pissed me off. I will not sing the full Song Of My Complaint (10 Minute Version), but just to give you a taste:

They recently did significant renovations in isolation hall (perhaps I mentioned this, as we were unable to visit for several weeks while this was happening) and now the hallway, where most boys spend most of their days sitting or slowly wandering, is clean, fresh, new, and… off limits. Apparently, it is a very high priority not to let the boys mess us the newly painted white walls. Prior to renovations, there might be a few boys in their bedrooms if they were sick (or the higher functioning boys who live in isolation hall sometimes just prefer to be there), and perhaps a few boys in the day room (which has evolved over the years but currently has padded walls and floors with a few stackable discs of the same padded material and a yoga ball laying around). The rest of them, the majority, would be in the hallway. 

Now obviously, I do not like the idea of our friends spending most of their days sitting on benches in the hallway. But when I walked into isolation hall, through a pristine hallway, and then was hit by the scent and heat of all the boys crammed onto the floor of the day room, I nearly lost it. I went immediately to open the window, but the small part that can be opened already was open. The door had to remain shut because otherwise several boys would try to get out of the room into the—now forbidden—hallway. There was nothing I could do to make the situation any better. I had literally just come from a conversation about this issue with the director, where he had explained that they had hoped to paint the walls of the hallway with paint that was washable, but had run out of money and now could not do so. He pointed out that he had allowed the boys to be in the day room (which was in it’s way a concession because it had previously been off limits when it was new), and said that he would think about our concerns. 

Our friend who was not in that room was tied to his bed. The last several times I’ve been there, he has been tied in bed, and we haven’t been allowed to take him out because he was “having a bad day.” This could mean so many things… seizure activity, sickness, recent self-harm, knocked out on drugs for one reason or another (even just thinking of the list of possible reasons is infuriating). Instead of untying him, lately I’ve just had to sit next to him while he remains tied up in bed, and I hate that. I can see such an obvious decline in him from when I first met him 8 years ago, and yesterday it hit me that if he stays at Romaniv, we are just going to keep watching him get worse until he dies. But his parents still have parental rights, and we’ve never yet been able to take guardianship of a boy from Romaniv whose parents are still in the picture. How do you convince people who don’t really know you that they should let their son come and live with you? Unless that happens, there is a good chance we will just watch him continue to lose skills and have an increasingly worse quality of life until he dies a totally preventable death.

There’s a taste of why I was so mad on the drive back from Romaniv. 

Then I got back to the Homestead. Home. And I sat at our table, in our open kitchen/dining room/living room with vaulted ceilings and natural light and fresh air. As I ate leftovers of a delicious Ukrainian dish that the assistants had made with our boys from lunch, Vova came over and sat down at the table, because he likes to be with people now. Then the assistants sat down to chat, and they helped me fix a message I was trying to write in Ukrainian. Soon we were joking together about a Ukrainian word that Dajana and I didn’t know how to use correctly in context. Yarik started feeding off the building energy as we hung out and joked together, and then somehow we were all yelling like Tarzan and one of the guys was play wrestling with Yarik. When I reluctantly moved upstairs to get some work done while the assistants were still here, I could hear one of them singing a sea shanty and Yarik commending the song choice 🤣 And the anger had faded.

Our home isn’t perfect. It’s a bunch of imperfect people living life with boys whose disabilities and trauma can be heavy. But it was so healing for me in that moment to be home. Home where our boys are loved in word and action. Where I can leave the house knowing that the boys will be treating with dignity and I don’t need to worry about them while I am gone. Where so many of the things outside of our control at Romaniv are just so delightfully…manageable. Life here isn’t perfect (or sometimes even easy!) but it is so good.

If I find it healing to be back at the Homestead after spending part of a day at Romaniv, what about our boys who lived there for years and years? I think and hope that the healing they experience here is much greater, even as it is slower and more rocky.

Often we talk about one benefit of everyone regularly going to Romaniv being that we maintain a soft heart for our boys at the Homestead. Remembering where they came from, what they endured, gives us the patience and compassion we need to bear with them in love when things are difficult. But I’m also noticing that it puts us, in some small way, in parallel with them and their journey. We are not untouched by our time spent visiting the institution, although coming face to face with that darkness affects us all in different ways. We mourn, grieve, get angry, or get numb. Then God meets us in our weakness to provide what we need, to restore and to strengthen us. Our boys are needy, but so are we. We can relate to them not as superiors capable of doing more, saying more, handling more, but as equals who also experience hurt and are in need of healing.

If you have experienced hurt and are in need of healing today, you are not alone. I know some really brave boys who are learning that people can be good. Who are considering that the messages of worthlessness they received for years might not be true. Who are fighting to leave behind the cycles they learned in response to terrible things that should not have been done to them. Who are waiting on the Lord to restore all of the years that the locusts have eaten. And those boys aren’t doing it alone, because we are right there with them. We are also asking God to redeem what was broken. You are welcome to join us.

Wishing you sunny and peaceful skies,

Christiana

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Carpe Diem… Carpe Carpathians! 

Well ya’ll, we have returned from the Carpathian Mountains, our first team trip/retreat since the start of the full-scale war. And for me, my first team trip ever! There were a lot of reasons that it didn’t make sense to travel the last few years (starting with everyone just being grateful to be back home after their time as refugees in Germany… no one wanted to go ANYWHERE). But we also want to live our lives as normally as possible, and the time felt right. We were ready to pack up our boys and team and make the 7 hour trek to the region of the Carpathian mountains that stretches across southwestern Ukraine. (Okay, it actually took us 11 hours on the way there once you factor in all of the bathroom breaks and various stops 🤣 But we managed the trip home in only 8 hours, so we were getting back in the swing of traveling with our boys) 

I’ll admit, as excited as I was to see the Carpatians for the first time, I had a bit of trepidation as I looked forward to this trip. It was the first time Yarik and Vova have slept anywhere other than their own beds since coming home from Germany. How would they handle the change? It was my first attempt at anticipating what to pack for a 6 day trip with them 😜 and figuring out how to manage Vova’s diet while traveling for more than a meal or two. Also, three of the English speakers on our team were not able to come for various reasons, so my communication landscape was going to be a bit drier than at home. (Side note: I am so spoiled/blessed to live with Dajana, who a) speaks a second language constantly when the two of us are together, which allows me to speak my native language and b) speaks Ukrainian better than me and thus regularly bridges the gap for me when I don’t fully understand something. God has been kind to me in this way and also I’m impressed by how Dajana adjusts with grace to the language needs of others) 

Anyway, the Carpathians were AMAZING. The boys did great at handling the stress of being outside their normal routines and in a new place. The team was awesome, and everyone worked together to give the boys a great vacation and other team members time to relax and have fun, too. It was good to be together in a beautiful place and just organically build our relationships with the boys and each other. My soul (and everyone else’s) got a good dose of mountains, which doesn’t seem like a big deal until you are surrounded by mountains and feel that mountain sense of awe… and we live in a totally flat place. The trip was just a gift, and I’m grateful that we were able to go. 

1. Vlad, Nina, her daughter Evangelina and son Seriozha, Ruslan, & Evie 2. Anton 3. Maxim & Natasha  4. Ruslan & Jed 5. Dem’yan (repping his Dim Hidnosti shirt which reads “Dim Hidnosti/House of Dignity, a place where the heart is at home”)  6. Vlad 7. Lesya, Anton, Valya, Vlad, Tonya, Vova, Yarik, Ezra, Masha, Christiana  8. Vlad, Tanya, Anton, Maxim, Ruslan, Valya, Evangelina, Evie, Vova, Christiana, Nina, Seriozha, Lesya, Yarik

From my perspective, here were a few highlights of the trip: Our friend Maxim, whose mother has asked Jed to become his guardian after she passes away/is unable to care for him, came with us on the trip, and his mother was able to come too! She is elderly and had never visited these beautiful mountains in her own country, and said it was a dream of hers to see them before she died. Being able to include them both was such a joy.  We took the boys on a trip to a ski resort town, where they rode up a ski lift to the top of the mountain. For most of them, hiking would be neither accessible nor particularly enjoyable, so this was a perfect way for them to experience nature and have their own mountaintop experience. Also, riding a ski lift was it’s own exciting activity for the physical thrill seekers in our crew… and a chance for some others to be brave 😉 Everyone who went up loved being on top of the mountain. The pool at the hotel became our natural gathering point. While we rotated between being officially with the boys or free each day, I loved seeing everyone gravitate towards being together when they were on the grounds of the hotel. For our team, this is their work, their livelihood. So to see in these kinds of moments that it is not just their work, but also their joy to spend time together with our boys is sweet and meaningful.  We have 4 women who’ve joined the team after their young adult children were already working for Wide Awake… so we have a growing contingent of the team around the same age whom I affectionately refer to as “the moms.” Watching them living it up on vacation was so fun, and often hilarious. I’ve seen some of them get in the pool with our boys before, but watching them excitedly go down the hotel slip-n-slide on their day off (or host parties in their rooms after the boys were asleep, or go swimming in the canyon, etc.) was another level.  I can’t resist a little psychology moment: the moderate stress for the boys of being away from home and doing new things out of their normal routine is perfect for where all of our guys are at right now in their healing journeys. All of them have been home and stable long enough that this was a “just right” level of challenge to stretch them in healthy ways. To experience that stress surrounded by people who know and love them, then to experience coming back home, is truly therapeutic. 

1. Valya and her son, Maxim (Valya is not a smiler, so it’s difficult to know when she is having a great time 😉) 2. Our team members Valya and Natasha. (I’m telling you, the moms were living their best lives. Yes, that is a medal for summiting the mountain) 3. Vlad, Yarik, & Jed on the ski lift 4. Nina, Maxim, Natasha, Seriozha, Andriy, Anton, Valya, Tanya, Vova, Irina, Boris, Valya, Vlad 5. I can’t even see who all is together by the pool. A lot of us 🤷‍♀️ 6. Ruslan 7. Lesya & Ruslan (side note: it was super sweet seeing Ruslan with Lesya. They’ve known each other for years, but there is a subtle shift in how Ruslan relates to Max & Lesya now that they are his house parents)  8. Anton & Nina

My summary review of our trip: 10/10 would do again 😉
Wishing you sunny and peaceful skies,
Christiana

BeLOVE[d] 🇺🇦

Hi Friends!

I apologize for the spotty newsletter coverage over the past month. Things have been [more than a little] unusual for our family and it’s been difficult to gather our thoughts and send them out to you. But I hate leaving you hanging, so today I’ll give you an update and then hopefully we’ll be able to return to our regularly scheduled newsletters. 🙃

As I wrote in the blog last October, it’s gotten harder and harder over the years to parse out what to share with you when it comes to our family. Not the big, Wide Awake Family, but our Johnson family. This story all started with our adoption journey waaaaay back in 2011, but then over the past 12 years, only by the grace and power of God, has transformed into a story of redemption that involves a whole team, 2 organizations, our precious boys, and way too many animals. I’m aware that there are many of you that read about our work, pray for the work, and financially support the work but have never met Jed or me. To you, this isn’t the story of the Johnson Family, this is just Wide Awake. But I also know that there are many of you who have known us personally since the beginning, and the story of Wide Awake, to you, is intricately entwined with the story of our nuclear family. And for those of you who know us, or have “known us” through blogs for many years, I know you have some questions. “What is going on with Jed and Kim????” Today, I will attempt to answer those questions with as much openness as possible, while still maintaining the dignity of all involved.  

As many of you know, our story of orphan care and adoption didn’t begin in Ukraine. When we were still living in the US we were foster parents of medically fragile infants for several years. Our last foster baby, Seth, eventually became our son. We brought Seth home from the hospital as a newborn and the story of his adoption was just one miracle after another. God made it very clear back then that he wanted Seth to be a part of our family and moved mountains to make it happen. He was and is our precious baby whom we love fiercely. 

Seth is okay with me sharing his story, so I share today with his blessing, FYI. 
Our Seth was born addicted to methamphetamine and his road has not been an easy one. We moved to Ukraine when he was only 3 years old, so at that point we still didn’t really know how his would be affected by the methamphetamine, because three year olds are three year olds…if you know what I mean. 😆 He had his struggles, but seemed to be developing pretty typically. 

Once Seth hit school age his struggles became more apparent, and then as he has grown, his struggles have grown. The older and bigger he gets, the more his behaviors affect him and others around him. We tried many, many methods of helping him to be successful in Ukrainian school with very little success. The educational standards in Ukraine are extremely high and there is no formal special ed programs or support, so if you need additional help or need to learn in a different way, there is no real help to be found. So school was a huge stress, but then home life also became more and more difficult and unsustainable. I won’t share details, because it’s very personal to our family, but it came to a point last winter when we understood that the help Seth needed was not to be found in Ukraine. Believe you me, we tried EVERYTHING. We are used to beating down every door to find help for our boys, but for someone like Seth, true help is nowhere to be found. 

Last winter we made the truly agonizing decision that after our Christmas visit Seth needed to stay in the US for a season so we could find help and support for him, not only for his sake, but for the sake of the rest of the family. So Jed and Seth stayed in Oregon, we enrolled him in school and began to seek out help from doctors and from adoption support services. As I’m sure you can imagine, there are no “quick” answers. and finding the right supports for Seth and our family has been and is, a time-intensive endeavor. So, this summer we had to make the difficult decision to continue on with Seth in the US for at least another semester of school. I’m here with him now in Oregon, getting housing all set up, enrolling him in school, and getting other supports in place, while Jed is in Ukraine with our other kids. At the end of August we will trade places- Jed will be here with Seth and I  will return to the Homestead. 

These decisions have not been made lightly, but have been made with many tears and sleepless nights. We are legally bound to our boys in Ukraine and our entire life is there, on the Homestead with our team and boys. It is not possible for our entire Johnson family to relocate to the US and leave our boys in Ukraine. We are their guardians. At the same time, Seth needs help that can’t be found in Ukraine. So, what are we to do? The only thing to do is divide and conquer. 

Jed and I have grieved so much over these past months. We have grieved that our life has come to this: that we have to live on opposite sides of the world during a time of war. We have grieved the loss of our ideal of family life. We have cried over Seth and begged God to heal his heart and mind. We have felt loss like we could have never imagined, and like I can’t even begin to describe. 

When I came to the US with Seth three weeks ago I felt completely hopeless. I felt like the lowest of the low. I felt forgotten and forsaken by the Lord and completely alone in my grief. But this time away has been a bit of a balm to my soul. God has provided wonderful housing for us. He has allowed Seth to be enrolled in a high school where my friend works who has always loved Seth. He has brought professionals along to encourage me and validate our struggle. I have been reminded to be thankful that we have the opportunity and capability to travel with Seth to where help can be found. Yes, it is extremely hard for Jed and I to be separated, but God is sustaining us. When we moved to Ukraine we went there to take people with disabilities out of institutions. Now we have come to the US with Seth in order to keep him out of an institutional setting. He is our child, our baby, and he needs our love now like never before. God gave him to us, so we will say YES and move forward, one step in front of the other. 

In the meantime, our amazing team keeps the work going and flourishing in Ukraine. Jed and I take turns at the helm on the Homestead, but our crew there gets the work done with amazing dignity, love, and hope. All is well, the work goes on, and our boys are thriving. 

Please keep our family in your prayers when you remember us. And please pray for our Seth. Pray that nothing would stand in the way of him becoming the man he was created to be. Pray for healing in his mind and heart. 

Thank you so much for loving us and our boys. Thank you for standing with us through all the storms that have come our way. If you have any questions or concerns we are happy to talk, so go ahead and ask away. ❤️

Wishing you sunny and peaceful skies,

Kim 🇺🇦

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Baby Lia Update

Remember our sweet Lia who was born at 28 weeks? Nina and Ruslan, her parents, are on our team. I’m writing today to ask you to pray for our sweet baby. She has always struggled with feeding, but in recent weeks has become nearly impossible to feed. Nina has resorted to feeding her with syringe. Supports in our city are super minimal for a baby like Lia, so Nina feels she has to tackle this all on her own. She is frustrated, tired, and worried for her baby girl. 

Please pray for a wise, caring doctor to help Lia and for wisdom and patience for Nina and Ruslan. We love our little Lia so much and it hurts to watch her suffer. Please pray for complete wholeness for her little body. Thank you! 🥰

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New Property Renovation 💪

We recently purchased a neighboring house with land and need to renovate it to make it livable for our Ruslan and his house parents, Max and Lesya. 

Here’s the list of what needs to be done to get the house move-in ready:
– New sub-floor and flooring
– New roof and bedroom on the second floor
– Plumbing: water and sewer
– Electrical: wires, outlets, lighting
– Heating
– Interior walls
– Bathroom
– Kitchen
– Appliances
– Furniture 

The goal is $60,000 to get the family moved on to the homestead. 
If you would like to help build Ruslan’s home, please consider making a donation by clicking the link below.

Thank you for your partnership!