This blog post is brought to you by Christiana β€οΈ
I have been living in Ukraine for over a year now! The year mark was an opportunity to reflect more intentionally on my time here thus far.Β
First, I am so grateful that I get to be here. Iβm so grateful that God said yes to the desire to live here that had been growing in me for years. After my first time in Ukraine, I just knew I wanted to return. Sometime around 3 years ago, that grew into a desire to live here for a season and be a part of the Wide Awake mission and community in a deeper way. But to actually get to live here?? Despite the distance, and the war, and all the other reasons this dream felt a little out there. It hasnβt been all sunshine and rainbows, and when Iβm in the normal stuff of daily life, I can forget how magical it is that this dream became a reality. But it actually is pretty magical, and Iβm so glad that I get to live this life and do this work.
So if it hasnβt been all sunshine and rainbows, what has been hard? If I can sum it up in one sentence: The hard part is the ways in which living here exposes all the faults and weaknesses that I had before I came. I read a missionary memoir (by Helen Roseveare) where she said that moving overseas to do mission work doesnβt magically make you a different, better person. You bring everything about who you already were to the foreign place, and I feel thatΒ π Β The pressures of my life before were different, so I could avoid some of these weaknesses well enough to forget about them. But God works all things together for the good of those who love him, so it seems He is using aspects of life here to grow me in areas Iβd been avoiding (or just oblivious to).Β
One area that seems to be a recurring theme in my life here is helpβ¦ or self-sufficiencyβ¦ so I suppose, pride. I came here to meet a need, to contribute to life on the Homestead, to be another willing set of hands. But there is a difference between a good desire to help and a prideful desire to only help while needing nothing from others. Giving help often feels good; it puts you in a position of power (whether you consciously acknowledge it in the moment or not). Being a helper is an identity our achievement-oriented culture celebrates. Needing help displays weakness; it puts you in a position of humility and is the opposite of being independent.Β
As it turns out, as much as I SAY that I desire community and interdependence, I actually really cling to being independent. I want to be in a position to give help, but needing help feels vulnerable. What if people think less of me? What if I donβt actually get the help I need? What if me being too needy leads people to reject me? Surely, Iβll be easier to love if I make no demands on anyone.
I know it sounds ridiculous when I put it that way, but I usually donβt have to hear that quiet voice deep inside. Life is loud.
And then I moved to Ukraine, where I am constantly finding myself in situations where I feel incompetent. I need help with things all the time that I could do independently in America. And whenever I think βCool God, thanks for all the growth opportunities about accepting help, but I think I have finally learned this lesson nowβ something new happens to make me realize that I have most definitely NOT learned this lesson yet.Β π
Part of my role here is to be a house parent, to care for Yarik and Vova. And then I break my elbow and am in a plaster cast. Or impale my foot on a rusty nail and can barely walk. Or get a stomach flu over the weekend. I have had the most ridiculous, random injuries in my life here. And Iβve gotten sick what feels like an absurd number of times. Every time this happens and someone else has to carry something that I see as my responsibility or something I βshouldβ be able to do, I once again get a bad attitude (i.e. guilt, resentment, frustration). Then I realize that I have not accepted being a frail mortal and that I still do not want to need help.Β
But we all give and receive help. That is actually by design, not because of a fault in the design.
And if we build an identity on being a helper, on always being self-sufficient and in a position to help others, there is a danger that we can look down with contempt on those who need help. Not intentionally. But if we revile needing help, how do we view others who need it?
So there is some slow, deep work happening in me in this area. Itβs still in progress, although Iβm hoping God chooses to work on this in my life without any more crazy injuries.Β
Itβs been 4 months since Iβve shared this space with you. Can you believe that? Itβs gone by fast, but it also feels like a century since I shared my heart with you.
When we first started this journey of βYESβ that led us across the world to our life here in Ukraine it was very much the story and journey of our family. I shared the happenings on our blog, mainly just because blogging was βthe thingβ to do and I thought it could be kind of fun to try my hand at a public journal of such. I wanted a way to remember the process and also a way to fill in family and close friends in one bang. Killing two birds and all that jazz. The process, or journey, we started out on was an adoption journey. It was a personal, intimate journey for our family and sharing my heart and thoughts along the way was the only way I knew how to write. Over the years one thing led to another, which led to another, which led to us starting a non-profit, moving our family of 6 around the world, adopting Vlad, buying the Homestead property, taking guardianship of our boys, building the duplexβ¦then war and refugee life and homecoming and horses and house parents and all.the.things. Over the past 12 years, this whole thing has become much more than our familyβs personal journey and much more than my online journal of sorts. The writings here represent Wide Awake and Dim Hidnosti and there is so much more to be shared than my feelings about it all. π
And yet, I know that part of what has drawn people (and maybe you!) to this work has been hearing the personal perspective behind all the things happening around here. And because this work is not just my day job but also my family, my life, and the thing I believe I was made to do, itβs really quite impossible for me to tease out the personal from the organizational- even if I wanted to. Iβm just, in general, a βheart-on-my-sleeveβ type of person, so writing without getting too personal is just not something Iβm able to do. Thatβs all fine and dandy when Iβm feeling all fine and dandy, but it all kind of falls apart when I fall apart.
Over the years we have seen and experienced so much beauty, and we have also experienced a great deal of pain. There were the early years that were so exciting, but also filled with uncertainty and worry (especially about our kids. Remember how worried I was that they would never learn Ukrainian???). There was the huge transition of bringing the boys out and then the disappointment of realizing that they couldnβt all live with us forever like we thought. (By the way, what were we actually thinking, imagining that would work??? My word, we have learned a lot.) Then there was/is the war. The day we had to leave our home and take the boys as refugees in Germany was the single most painful day of my life. All of that I freely and honestly shared with you. I never wanted you to think this journey was all rainbows and unicorns, so I tried to be very honest about sharing the amazing and the heartbreaking. But over the past couple of years, maybe since the war started that honest, personal, and free channel of communication from me to you has slowly become harder and harder for me to access.
I canβt completely blame my βcommunication barrierβ, of sorts, on the war, but I also canβt deny the part war has played in changing all of us to our cores. That time living away with all the boys in a different country was unbelievably challenging and traumatizing. I really hate to use that βT Wordβ because Iβm aware itβs so overused and abused, but I feel like itβs a true way to describe that time. We left our home not knowing if we would ever be able to return. We then watched helplessly as our dear boys who had worked so incredibly hard, along with us, to come so far and heal so deeply and grow so much, slowly and then rapidly lose their skills and decline to such states that it became impossible to continue like we were in Germany. I donβt know if Iβve ever before or since felt such helplessness as I did in that time. I remember crying to Jed βI just donβt want this to be my life!β Rough times, Folks, rough times.Β
Another barrier to my sharing has just been the fact that I was, honestly, a bit burned out with sharing the story. Gasp! Truth bomb. Hehe. I mean, Iβve been sharing this work and this journey for 12 years now and I just felt tired. I felt uninspired. I felt like, although the work obviously, is just as important to me as the day it was birthed 12 years ago, I just didnβt want to talk about it anymore. I wanted to live it and savor it and love it as much as I do, without trying to figure out creative ways to describe it. I guess it was just a case of good olβ fashioned burnout. And Iβm so thankful to Christiana for lifting that responsibility from me during our sabbatical so I could just rest. What a gift!
And not to be a Debbie Downer, but there is one more barrier to communication between you and me. That one includes my kiddos and dignity and the whole jumbly casserole that comes out of life and ministry and work and family all being a mostly combined entity. To me, that jumbly casserole is the best ever and I wouldnβt trade that life for the world. But it does make communication a bit hard to splice out.
When we moved to Ukraine our kids were young and it seemed like they were little extensions of my body. Their joys and pains were easy to see and understand, and in those early days of life in Ukraine, I was feeling a lot of those same joys and pains so it was natural to share them with you. Our family unit was like a little island here in Ukraine and we felt and experienced all the things together. Now most of my children are teenagers and sharing their joys and pains online with people who donβt even know them doesnβt feel right or even related to what you come here to read. So there is the need to separate some of the Johnson family sharing from the greater Homestead family sharing.
But, there is a but. You know that our family is an adoptive family (several times over), and adoption has always been a big part of our heart. We heavily and successfully advocated for the adoption of foster children and many children from Ukraine before we moved here and then for several of our boys from Romaniv. I believe that adoption is Godβs heart and a necessary act of love in this broken world. Children were made for families. Adoption is important and necessary, and also, adoption is incredibly painful and difficult. That is just the reality. Anytime a child is removed from their biological family there is pain, no matter the age of the child. Add in a history of substance abuse and the pain grows.
We moved to Ukraine to bring people with disabilities into family and to create a model of family and care that can be replicated by others around the country. There are many reasons why institutions like Romaniv exist, but one big reason is because of the lack of social safety net for families who have a child with a disability. There is a huge lack of qualified therapists and mental health specialists. The schools are not prepared for children with special needs and most schools have zero idea of how to actually work with children who canβt learn in the way that is expected and have zero plan for how to successfully educate those children. We see the final outcome of the lack of social safety net in our adult men who have come from the institution into our Wide Awake family, and we have experienced the effects of the lack of social safety net in our own family with one of our adopted children.
To parent a child with special needs in Ukraine is to fight the good fight on your own. There is no team brainstorming. There is no person telling you what they recommend you do. There are no provisions made. There is no support. All of these things you have to find on your own or create on your own. We have been doing this for our child for the past almost 11 years, and it has taken all that I have to give. I canβt tell you how isolating and painful it is to try everything and give everything and feel that at the end of the day, your family is alone in this fight for your child and there is no safety net if you should fail or make a wrong choice or miss a thing, or if you should have known better but just didnβt because you have never seen or known of another child like yours. To parent a child with special needs in Ukraine is to go at it completely alone and pray that at the end of the day, it will be enough.
I havenβt shared as much with you recently because I have been elbows deep in my own journey of parenting a child who desperately needs more than we can give. Our child needs what can only be found outside of Ukraine, but we know that God has us in Ukraine for that very population. It hasnβt really hit me until just while Iβve been writing this that this must be how all the mamas of our friends with disabilities must have felt over the years. We need for our children what canβt be found in our country. And we wonder how things would be different if we had the resources that others have. We do our best but feel at the end of each day that we are failing and pray that God will cover it all. Hope can be hard to find at times. We can only trust that God loves our children more than we do and that He will give us the wisdom we need when we need it.
So, wow, maybe this got a bit rambly (is that a word?) I just wanted you to know where Iβve been; where my head and heart have been. Praise God the work here continues, more beautiful than ever. Our team and our boys are thriving, even during these dark times in our country. Because of the amazing and steady work of our team Iβm able to take more of a backseat from the day-to-day work of Wide Awake/Dime Hidnosti to focus on our child. Iβm incredibly thankful for that.
Iβm back, feeling a bit more refreshed and ready to share with you again. With Jed and Christianaβs help, weβll continue to keep you in the loop on all the things happening around here. There is never a dull moment around here and we are honored to walk this never-dull journey with you.
I didnβt grow up close to nature. Sure, we would go camping as kids, and those times are some of my fondest memories, but I wouldnβt say we were a βnature familyβ by any stretch of the imagination. We were more of an after-school activity, church, sports, Saturday-morning cartoon family. We had a couple cats when I was little, but they either ran away or we had to give them away when we movedβ¦I canβt remember. And I had a few guinea pigs over the years. Fun fact: my first guinea pigβs name was Hudson Taylor. I was a weird kid, but I knew where my life was headed, I guess. What Iβm getting at, is the extent of my childhood knowledge of farm life was limited to my heavy consumption of Little House on the Prairie (the TV series, not the books, thankyouverymuch).
When we lived in the US, before we were aware of Ukraine at all, Jed and I talked and dreamed about having some land, homesteading a bit. It wasnβt anything we were ever ready to seriously look into, but we dreamed of it someday in the future. Iβm not even sure what sparked that dream. I guess we liked the idea of planting and growing things, of having space for our kids to run, of getting our hands dirty and caring for animals. Jed had a bit more experience with all that than I did, but not much. For whatever reason, it just sounded cool and it sounded very βusβ. I liked to cook from scratch. We were always kicking our kids outdoors. We had backyard chickens. Baby steps toward the dreamβ¦
Then came that fateful night in the summer of 2010 when our eyes were opened to the horrors of institutional life in Ukraine for people with disabilities and all other dreams flew out the window. There was the agonizing time of not knowing how to respond to the new information we had discovered. Then the decision to adopt. Then when that fell through, the first visit to Ukraine. Then the founding of Wide Awake and the selling of almost all our worldly possessions. Gone was our beautiful craftsman on a quarter acre (huge to us), our backyard chickens, our bunnies, our cook-from-scratch, grain mill-using, kefir-making kitchen. The homestead dream took a backseat to the urgent need to get to Ukraine and DO SOMETHING to relieve the suffering of those languishing in institutions.
Now weβve been in Ukraine for almost ten years (pinch me) and this past week a thought hit me like a ton of bricks. Our homestead dream is coming, has come true. Say what???? Our land here in the village has slowly become the thing of our dreams. And it has happened so slowly, in the midst of so many more important things that I somehow seemed to have missed it, or forgotten that we had once, long ago dreamed of it.
When we decided it was time to buy land here, that it was time to start getting people out of institutions we debated about what was better- to be in the city or in the village. We didnβt want to hide our friends with disabilities away, out of sight, like they always had been, but at the same time, we wanted them to be able to touch nature, to walk freely outdoors, to have space to breathe. We eventually decided the village would be better suited for deinstitutionalization, so we bought a little bit of property and the Homestead took its first breath.
The day we bought the Homestead land
I always thought that we were in the village because it was better for the boys. And I do believe it is. I canβt imagine trying to do what we do in the middle of the city. But now I am starting to notice a sneaky truth, that God placed us in the village not just for the boys, but for me and Jed too. I truly believe that God remembered that long laid down spark of a dream and in his kindness he has made it a reality.
Living on the Homestead, working in our massive garden, caring for our chickens, goats, and dogs- it brings me so much life. Itβs like therapy for me. For reals. Sure, with Jed gone it can feel a bit overwhelming, but I still love it so much and I know Jed does too. Many of our Facetime convos, while heβs in the US, consist of me showing him the garden and the animals. π I like learning new things, trying new things, planting, growing, harvesting, and preserving our own food. I love watching baby chicks grow and change. Our one little chick that recently hatched has two mama hens and the three of them are just the cutest little trio there ever was. Now we have another mama hen brooding on 4 eggs and I canβt wait to see what will happen with her. Sheβs an aggressive one. Ainβt nobody gonna mess with her babies! One of our hens, Kelly Cluckson, broke her leg and I thought we were going to have to put her out of her misery, but after a few weeks of making sure she could be left alone with food and water, Iβm happy to report that now she can walk and jump and kinda/sorta limp-run. Itβs so great! Iβm so proud of her! π. Soon we will have horses and that will take everything up a notch. I have no idea what to do with horses, but Iβm eager to learn. Dajana and I have a plan to take the horses to the forest after she teaches me to ride. Can you imagine? So cool.
One of my favorite moments of the day is late at night when I go out to the barn to lock up the goats and chickens for the night. Itβs suuuuuuuuper dark. Our village doesnβt have street lights so the only light is from the moon. On clear nights there are so many stars. Itβs incredible. I love to stand out there, look at all the stars, listen to the bazillion barking dogs. Itβs like my soul can take a deep breath in that moment. In the midst of dealing with the trauma our boys carry, hard parenting moments, and living in a country at war, our little Homestead brings me life and joy. It steadies me a bit. Iβm thankful that God placed that kernel of a dream in our hearts all those years ago and that he brought it to fruition in a way we could never have imagined. He is so good and kind to us.
Hey, hey, hey! Let’s talk about food. Yeah? I love talking about food. π€·ββοΈ I love cooking, baking, trying out new recipes, and feeding other people. It’s a good thing I enjoy it because approximately 79% of my waking hours are spent in search of food, thinking about food, or cooking food. My kitchen is my office and my happy place. π My favorite time is Sunday afternoon when it’s raining outside, and I’m cozy in my kitchen baking up a tasty treat. Add a podcast to the background and its perfection.
Ukrainian food is super basic and requires very few specialty ingredients. You could probably make most basic Ukrainian recipes with what you have in your fridge and pantry today. But it’s pretty yummy and the ultimate comfort food. Ukrainian cooking is ruled by the seasons. You cook what is available in the season and there are certain dishes for certain times of year. Fall/winter cooking in Ukraine is heavy on potatoes, beets, carrots, onions, and grains. When we first moved here and I wanted to bake with pumpkin in the fall everyone looked at me like I had three eyes. “Pumpkins are for farm animals!” But, western influence has changed a lot over the years and now you can find smaller pumpkins for baking on the market. I’m happy people have come to their senses about pumpkins because fall baking requires it! π
I thought it would be fun to share some of my favorite (In English) Ukrainian recipes with you. Obviously, the most authentic recipes are the ones passed down from friends and neighbors, but the recipes I’ll share here are also great. Plus, most of them have been a bit westernized so the ingredients will be easy for you to find. There are so so many recipes that could be shared, but I decided to not overwhelm and offer up just a few yummy options for you to try. These recipes have all been tested and approved by my fam, our team, and our boys and are staples in our home. Try them out and let me know what you think! I decided to share only savory foods with you today, and next time we’ll cover sweets and baking.
Soup. Soup is a mainstay of the Ukrainian diet. Most Ukrainians are happy to eat soup every day and even for breakfast! Our kids eat soup in their school lunches every single day and parents would definitely be outraged if it was removed from the menu. Ukrainians gotta have their soup! I’m a massive soup-lover myself, so I can definitely get behind the Ukrainian soup obsession. Most Ukrainian soups are served topped with a spoonful of sour cream. Don’t omit the sour cream! It really does make a difference.
Borscht. Duh. Now, my kids would correct me and say that Borscht is not soup- it’s just Borscht. But, it’s soup-like, so it will go first. Borscht is the National Dish of Ukraine, and there are as many variations of it as there are families. Every person will tell you that their grandma makes the best borscht. Some cook it with beans, some without (I’m in the “without” camp). You can use any kind of meat you like, or go meatless. I don’t really use a recipe anymore when I make borscht, but this recipe was my starting point back in the day. Do give it a go and see what all the fuss is about! Borscht Recipe
Green Borscht. My kids like green borscht better than the traditional red. Green borscht is called “green” because it lacks the red beets but instead is packed with sorrel, a sour green that gives it amazing flavor. It’s also topped with boiled eggs which I was leery of at first, but quickly grew to love. So so yummy! Green Borscht Recipe
Solyanka. This is my all-time most fave soup ever! There’s this little restaurant on the road from our village to Lviv in Western Ukraine that has the best solyanka you’ll ever eat in your life. I was happy to see on our way home from Germany that that little restaurant was still alive and kicking. Solyanka has dill pickles in it, but don’t let that scare you. It’s amazeballs. TRY IT. I highly modify this recipe, but it’s a good starting point. It calls for a lot of different meat, but we use just chicken and salami. Also- don’t skip the olives, lemons, and sour cream at the end. (Any kind of olives will do. You don’t need the special ones called for in the recipe) Here ya go: Solyanka Recipe, Solyanka Recipe in Ukrainian (This recipe is closer to how I make it- but with potatoes. If you can Google translate it, then go for it!)
Non-Soup Savory Dishes
Banosh. My kids literally jump for joy when I make banosh. And it’s so easy!! Banosh is a famous Ukrainian dish from the Hutsul people of the Carpathian Mountains. When we all go to the mountains together with our team and the boys we definitely make it a priority to have lots of banosh. It’s a dish that holds a lot of special memories for all of us. Now, the recipe I’m attaching is a good base of banosh with bryndza (salty sheep cheese), but banosh is just meh if you don’t add other toppings. We like to add carmelized onions, sauteed mushrooms, bacon crumbles, and a fried egg to the top of our banosh, along with the bryndza. If you can’t find bryndza you can replace it with feta cheese for a similar salty taste. Banosh Recipe
Olivye. This Ukrainian version of a potato salad is straight-up party food. Every holiday, birthday party, and special event is bound to have a big bowl of Olivye and I am there for it. There’s just something super yummy and satisfying about it. You must give it a go. It’s super important to chop everything small and into similar-sized pieces. The uniformity of all the little chunks with the mayo makes this salad something special. No big chunks allowed! So what if today’s not a holiday? Any day is a good day for Olivye. Olivye Recipe
Grechka. If you’re planning to visit Ukraine anytime soon (you’re probably not, but…π) then you’re going to have to learn to like buckwheat (“grechka”). I’ve noticed that it’s an acquired taste for most Westerners, but I can testify that you really can learn to like it. When we first moved here I was not a fan, but over the years grechka has become a comfort food of sorts. Our kids eat it at school for lunch at least twice a week and all of our boys love it. Enjoy this basic recipe for grechka with mushrooms. The recipe calls for dried mushrooms, but I usually use fresh, as that’s what I have on hand. PS: Despite having “wheat” in its name, buckwheat is actually a gluten-free food. Grechka Recipe
English Recipe Resources. These sites were my go-to websites when we first moved to Ukraine and I realized trying to cook “American” wouldn’t cut it here, but I couldn’t read nor understand recipes in Ukrainian. I learned the basics of Ukrainian cooking from these sites before I had friends to tell me what was up. They all have categories for “Russian and Ukrainian food”. Ukraine and Russia have many, many differences (as Russia is currently showing the world) but when it comes to cooking they share many of the same recipes and flavors. I hope you will try some recipes for yourself!
Well, Folks, things are gettinβ crazy around here. Russia has attacked Ukraine and we are at war. How is this happening?Β
We actually recorded this episode last week while things were a bit quieter, but I think todayβs events make it even more relevant. In this episode, my daughter, Addy, and I discussed the joys we find in our work and life here in Ukraine. From creating community, to dance parties, to wardrobe malfunctions, our life here is rarely boring. π I hope our chat brings you some laughs and encourages you to find joy wherever you may be.
Yesterday we had our first snow ππ. A lot of it melted off, but still, tis the season! I love the first snow. It’s always so pretty and magical. Come February I’m more than ready to never see snow again as long as I live, but December snows are always welcome.
While I’m cozy here in my village house that I love so much, I thought I’d share some things that are bringing me joy this snowy December. Because, why not?
1. Yummy scented candles. I love love love a good candle. Candles bring me an obscene amount of joy, but in the past I could never find nice scented candle here in Ukraine. Until now. Yay! A local company here in Zhytomyr makes wonderful candles and they are making me so happy! I bought a few and burn them every morning and every evening. They smell like Christmas and forests and baked goods and all the best scents of the season. Hurray!
2. Freshly baked bread. A while back I was inspired to make some bread. I make dinner rolls pretty often, but have never been much for making just a basic loaf for slicing. I’m not sure why. π€·ββοΈ Anyway, the basic bread we get at the store here is never very tasty, so I decided maybe I should just start making our own. My requirements for the recipe were basically that it would be cheap to make (ie- uses basic white flour, no milk, and no butter) and would make at least two big loaves. I found the easiest, tastiest recipe and am so happy making our own bread! It takes a while, but that’s mostly just rising time. The hands-on time is maybe like 10 minutes total. I’ve been baking it every couple of days and it’s seriously so easy! Here’s the recipe: https://prairiedogwoodcraft.com/blogs/cooking-baking/basic-everyday-bread (FYI, I use oil instead of butter because it’s cheaper…π)
3. An electronic library. We are a family of readers. I think ever person in our family (except Evie, Bmo, and Vlad) goes to bed with a book at night. We mostly read from Kindles because we have no English library here and reading in Ukrainian is not necessarily relaxing. π In the past we’ve had different subscriptions to meet our reading needs. We’ve tried Kindle Unlimited and Scribd and they were fine, but expensive and even then we couldn’t find many of the books we wanted to read. We also electronically check out books from our library back in Oregon, but the hold times are so loooooooooong. It just felt like it was always so hard to keep the kids on a steady diet of books without spending tons of money or trying to figure out how to send them with people who would come to visit (heavy!) But then, we were introduced to this amazing online library and oh the joy it is bringing to us all!!!! We just donate $5 every month and we can download tons and tons of books to our Kindles with zero hold times! It’s a serious Christmas miracle. A definite lifesaver for this book-crazy family who’s been without a library for 8 years!
4. My Teenagers. I’m telling you what: mothering teenagers is so.much.fun. Why did no one ever tell me that?? Right now we have 2 3/4 teens in the house. Addie is 17, Ezra is 16, and Hava will be 13 this month. They are just so wonderful and they bring me a huge amount of joy. They are funny and fun to be around. They each have their own quirks and opinions. They are growing into wonderful people and I just love living with them. I treasure our evenings when we the littles (and Bmo) are in bed and we can sit (with our amazing candles) and just chat or watch stupid SNL videos, or The Office together. I know our time together is growing shorter and shorter so I have this feeling of wanting to steal as much time with them as I can. They make me happy.
5. ΠΠ°Ρ Π°ΠΡΠ°Ρ Π° (DakhaBrakha). DakhaBrakha is a Ukrainian folk band that I love. β€οΈ They sing in the style of traditional Ukrainian music, but with a modern, creative twist. They are so funky and fun and we love them. This past week they did a concert in Zhytomyr and you better believe we were there! They were amazing in concert- so talented. You should give their music a try! You can see a video of them performing in Oregon here.
When crazy, outlandish, or gross things happen around here we often joke about them being “the things that don’t make it into the newsletter.” I mean, our life has plenty of semi-gross elements in it, and if I were to document all of those normal, every day moments for you, I’m pretty sure everyone would immediately unsubscribe- and I wouldn’t blame you one bit. There’s only so many poopy conversations one newsletter can handle. But the other night was just too good. It was a little over-the-top, even for us. I think you need to hear about it.
Tuesday was a scorcher. We had all been lamenting the fact that the rain would never let up, and then all of a sudden we traded in rain for stifling heat. But, like I mentioned last week in the newsletter, our friends at Hands of Hope bought us a pool, so the heat has been manageable, as long as you don’t try to go into our upstairs bedrooms. #suffocation
It was nearing dinnertime and all of a sudden our power went out. Now, that’s not all that uncommon. We lose power every so often, and more often in the summer time. There’s no rhyme or reason to it and no one to call when it happens. We just have to plod through until it comes back on. It happens with the internet too. It just goes away sometimes and there’s not a thing to be done. That unpredictability comes with Ukrainian village life. It is what it is. The duplex must be on a different power grid than us or something (I’m so not an electrician…π) because often when we lose power, they don’t. or vice versa. Anyway, this time we all lost it. In fact, our whole street lost it, and the cell service also went down. It wouldn’t really have been a big deal except that it was time to start making dinner for 15 people and the duplex has no gas stove. So that meant we were all going to need to use the two gas burners on our stove for cooking. Plus it was blazing hot inside and out and we had just gone grocery shopping the day before, so our fridges were stocked with perishables galore. In moments like that I can be heard threatening my children with all manners of punishment if they even so much as consider opening the fridge. Not a finger!
Another thing is that we have wells for water, and when we lose electricity we lose our well pumps, so that means we lose running water. I think that’s the hardest part of power outages. Lugging in water for dishes and toilet flushing for a family as big as ours is no small feat. Not to mention that Anton’s evening routine includes about 2 hours of sitting in the bath and if he doesn’t have that time it’s not pretty at all. Anton needs his bath and we all need Anton to be in the bath. He doesn’t understand lack of running water, so we knew we needed to do whatever we could to make sure bath time still happened, rather than risking his wrath if it didn’t. π
Our neighbor told us she heard a rumor that the power was going to be out for two days, so right away Morgan and I went into problem-solving mode. It’s kind of our sweet spot. Haha. Morgan started lugging water up from the well and filling all her pots so we could start to heat them on our stove, and then proceeded to carry buckets and buckets of the well water across the property to start filling the bath for Anton. Our friend Betsy is visiting from Indiana and she had the brain child to buy pizza for everyone so we wouldn’t have to cook. Great idea! I got on the phone to call or order online and realized our cell service was down. It’s kind of hard to order pizza without a phone, so we decided I would need to go find cell service so I could place our order. I drove down the highway a bit to find a signal, quickly ordered the pizza and then drove back home.
Our water fetching and pizza ordering was running like a well-oiled machine, and then we heard that a certain man-child, who shall remain nameless, decided to wait till there was no running water to have a massive poop blowout. We’re not talking about a little baby blowout. We’re talking adult diaper blowout. Those are intimidating in the best of circumstances, but in the blazing heat with no way to wash, they can bring a grown man to tears. So that happened. Welcome to our life. Always so romantic. π Laugh or cry, folks. Laugh or cry.
About an hour after ordering pizza we decided Jed better take a phone and drive down to get cell service because the pizza delivery people can never find our house without calling us. So, he went down the highway to await their call while Morgan and I kept working on filling the bath for Anton. The goal was to get Anton fed and into the bath before the pizza arrived since he can’t have pizza and would be more than a little upset to see us eating something he’s not allowed to have. (Not that I blame him. Pizza is a wonderful creation.) We had searched and found a flashlight, since we had forgotten the duplex bathroom has no windows and it wouldn’t do to have Anton in the bath in a pitch dark room…π€·ββοΈ
Jed was just arriving home with the pizza and Morgan was just walking into the duplex with the final bucket of water, sweat pouring off of her, when low and behold, the power came back on. The look on her face was absolutely priceless. It was cruel of me to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. Of course the power came back on right after the tub was filled and the pizza was ordered and delivered and the blowout poopy diaper was dealt with. Of course. Because that’s just how life works around here! But oh my word, we had some big laughs about it, and I have to say that our problem-solving skills were on point. We were in the zone, gettin’ things done.
Things like that happen all the time around here. Sometimes it feels like a whole day was wasted, just fighting fires. But, it’s all just a part of daily life. Living life with our boys in a little village in Ukraine is never ever boring. Sometimes it’s so bad you have to laugh, and sometimes it’s so good you can’t help but cry. π
Also, yesterday I just wanted to drive down the road and it was blocked by cows. #thisukrainianlife
Life at the moment feels especially full. I’d love to take the time to be reflective and self-aware, but I just don’t have it in me. Life is just happening and I don’t have the time to think much about the deeper things. But, what I can think about is what is bringing me joy!
Pinky Malinky. A couple of weeks ago our sweet Wendell dog died. We don’t know why. We don’t know what happened to him. He was neutered on a Tuesday and all seemed well and good, but then on Friday he was found in the trees behind our house and he had died. Oh, our poor Seth. He was so devastated. Wendell was his dog and Seth had found him as a small puppy on the streets of our village. He was a naughty, but sweet dog. Seth’s little heart was broken.
Enter…Pinky Malinky! Seth had a puppy-shaped hole in his heart, and it needed filling. We found a local ad about a puppy who had been found in a dumpster on New Year’s Eve and needed a home. So, we brought that little pup home and Seth named her Pinky Malinky. π She is so sweet and the perfect addition to our family. She’ll be more of an inside dog than Bluebell. Bluebell is a worker, but Pinky is happy to cuddle. She’s good for us.
Survivor Night. Friday night at the Homestead is “Survivor Night”. We all look forward to it in eager anticipation. π Around 8pm Max and Morgan make their way over from the duplex and we cozy on in for our weekly dose of Jeff Probst and island drama. There’s usually some sort of treat included (of course). I think we started watching Survivor when we were trying to survive jet lag, and then it became a tradition. Seeing as how there’s like 40 seasons of Survivor out there, it’s a tradition that should carry us for a good while. You can read Morgan’s thoughts on Survivor Night here.
Garden Dreaming and House Plants. The snow has melted (for now) and we’ve got the garden on our minds. During the long, snowy wait I decided to try my hand at house plants (everyone who knows me in real life is shaking their head and laughing at me right now). In the past I’ve been pretty vehemently opposed to house plants, simply because I was so overwhelmed with keeping the humans and animals in my life fed and watered, I couldn’t imagine trying to add needy plants to the mix. I have one house plant that has survived for like 3 years here in this house and I honestly have no idea how that is even possible. I don’t even remember where that plant came from, but it is one determined plant! This year, as the snow lasted on and on and refused to melt, I started thinking I had the mental capacity to try out some plants. Annnnnd so far so good! Our friend, Christiana, who is here visiting, has helped me a ton, and I’m finding joy in seeing my plants not die. Haha. Jed and I are beginning garden talks and scheming how we want to switch things up this year. So exciting! Bring on the sun and the dirt. We’re ready.
The Fence. What a glamorous life I lead. When things like a finished fence bring you immense joy you know you’re deeeeeeep in country livin’. Oleg finished our fence and we now have a fully enclosed back yard. The reason this makes me unreasonably happy is because we have approximately 226 stray dogs in our village and they were all making our back yard their personal playground. Poor Bluebell was working from sunup till way past sundown, chasing them out of our yard. I was throwing shoes at them. It was super annoying and super loud. But now, thanks to a finished fence, they are no longer making a party pad out of our back yard. Thank the Lord!
The most elusive word to most expats is probably the word “home”. I actually put quite a bit of thought into my use of that word. It’s not one I throw around lightly. When you up and move 6,000 miles away from your home, and suddenly every single thing is unfamiliar and difficult, you wonder if you will ever feel “at home” again, and the word takes on a power and meaning all its own.
For several years after we moved to Ukraine I considered Oregon my home. Oregon represented comfort and familiarity and friendship and family. Ukraine represented frustration and difficulty and loneliness and hard hard hard. Ukraine was where we lived, but it was not my home. I never let our kids know that though. Even though Jed and I didn’t feel the feels, we were always super careful how we used the word “home” with our kids. Right away, after moving to Ukraine, we called it our home. We wanted the kids to recognize that we were in Ukraine to stay and we wanted them to start to put down roots there- physically and emotionally. We may have longed for the US and all its familiarities, but we didn’t want our kids to do the same. We didn’t want them pining for their old life. We wanted them to jump into their new life- and we tried our best to do the same. When it was time to visit the US we told the kids just that- that we were going to visit the US. We never referred to those visits as “going home”. In hindsight, I’m really glad we did that because it helped all of us in keeping a perspective of permanency, regardless of our feelings.
Words are powerful, but they are still just words. The heart feels what it will feel, and no matter which words I used, it still took a loooong time for me to feel like Ukraine was my home. For several years I would just about die of excitement when it was time to leave Ukraine and cry allllll the tears when it was time to return to her again. I knew that I knew Ukraine was where we were supposed to be. I had zero doubt of our purpose and calling there, but that didn’t make the reality easier. I was dying of loneliness and life was just so.dang.hard. Yes, there were many beautiful moments, but it still just felt super foreign.
But, sometime over the past couple of years, those feelings changed. I’ll be honest and tell you that this trip is the first one when I really felt sad to leave Ukraine. As much as I was excited to see our family here in the US, I still cried saying goodbye to our boys, our team, our neighbors, our house, and our pets. I felt a sense of loss that life there will go on and we won’t be a part of it for a few weeks. I felt a sadness of leaving my home, my people. And I as sat back and recognized those feelings I felt so much thankfulness and joy. We’ve crossed into a new season, a new reality. My people-pleaser self wanted to immediately feel guilt over that and my “disloyalty” to the US, but I decided not to go there. I think it’s good and right to feel at home in the place where you live. I see this new feeling of belonging as God’s gift and I’m only thankful for it. During these past 7 years, I’ve learned that it’s okay to have your heart on both sides of the ocean. It’s okay to miss my family in the US, while also being content with our family in Ukraine. It’s okay to be excited to visit the US, but also sad to leave Ukraine. As an expat, that tug on my heart that stretches it across the sea will always be my reality. Like I tell our kids when they cry over leaving someone they love, “We are the most blessed, to be loved by so many people all over the world.”
Last Friday we started a new tradition for our team. We had our first “Team Dinner”. I kinda want to call it “Family Dinner”. I think I will.
We decided that every Friday night our house will be open, and anyone from our team is welcome to come, eat dinner, drink tea, pray, worship, and just be together. I think we all need it. π
When Anton and Ruslan lived here, we were just too in over our heads to invite anyone over. The team was mostly all here during the day every day, and I’m pretty sure when the clock struck 5 they were eager to get the heck outta Dodge. I know I was…hehe. (laugh or cry, laugh or cry) A “Family Dinner” was not something that would have been super enjoyable during those times. We were all mostly just surviving. Then when Anton had to be moved from our home, he wasn’t really able to come back here. He had so much stress associated with this place, and so many emotions he couldn’t (and still can’t) articulate, him even coming near the door turned out poorly every time. So, Family Dinners were out of the question, as long as Anton wasn’t able to participate.
At a team meeting in August, I told the team that it was my dream and goal that by Christmas, Anton would be able to spend time in our house. We all agreed that we would bravely step out toward that goal. But I know it made everyone nervous. We all love him and so want him to heal and succeed-and he’s just soooo unpredictable. Anton is definitely a man of mystery.
We started out with a team party in the backyard towards the end of summer, and although there was stress, Anton did okay! We locked the doors to the house, and just made it completely inaccessible. It was a big step for him just to be here on the territory, and he did well. I’m not sure he really enjoyed himself, but he didn’t hurt anyone, so we called it a big fat win. π
Then last month we had a bonfire at the back of the property and Anton did awesome. He was more stressed about the marshmallows than the location, so that was definitely a win!
Last Friday we decided to just go for it and we invited everyone over for the Family Dinner. Worst case scenario, Jed or Oleg would have to drive Anton home, right? He was quite stressed to be back in the house, but he was able to hold himself together, and I think he actually did really great. He even laughed a bit. It was so so wonderful to have almost everyone here, eating together, laughing together, and just being together. FINALLY. My heart was happy and full.
At one point we turned on the boys’ favorite worship songs and Ruslan was standing in the very center of the room, in the middle of everyone, just dancing and singing his guts out. I looked around the circle and saw how much everyone loved him and how they were delighting in him and I thought “This is how it should be.” Ruslan felt free to be fully himself, and he was surrounded by people who weren’t just tolerating him, or “allowing it”, but people who welcomed his tone-deaf singing and appreciated his signature dance moves.
Vlad was in the corner, beating his drum completely off beat. Anton was rocking. Boris was swaying. Our friend Maxim was with us and he was in turn reminding us for the 15th time that he’s now 34, and hiding his head under a pillow. All precious, all known, all appreciated and accepted for who they are, and all loved by a whole room full of people. I’m proud to call that room full of people my team, and I’m happy to also claim them as my friends and my Ukrainian family.
Friday Night:Family Night is here to stay. If you’re ever in our neck of the woods, consider yourself invited.
