My Heart Broke in Ukraine: A Poem

 

My heart broke in Ukraine. 

 

First in a classroom 

filled with the fatherless. 

Children with scabbed chaos

across their chins,

who had their seats

planted to a wood bench, 

their feet swinging, 

brushing the carpet

‘til permitted to leap 

Up, up…

Into aching arms 

of protection and patience.

The arms of those they wish could stay.

Devoted visitors

every Thursday, rain or shine,

make way to children who yearn for just a morsel of care-

of time-

of commitment to them.

The rarity of these a twisted reality

that their nation, sadly, 

does nothing to fix. 

 

“He is not the prettiest kid. 

This is the most attention he’s received in some time…”

90 minutes of tired arms and painful kindness.

Little One knew not gentle touch, 

but only his need for a love that felt tough. 

Seven minutes remained, 

Little One surrendered to fatigue, 

his form across my knees.

He studied 

my smile, the ceiling. 

My little finger stroked softly the curve of his nose.

One, two, three. Tap, Tap. 

Candy-smeared hand deliberately rose. 

Face braced for scratch or vice grip-

but… 

…gently…

his fingertips 

…brushed my skin

For the first time, maybe in Little One’s life, 

he knew soft touch.

No need to pinch or grab or cling or cry.

Little One discovered, perhaps for the first time…

His fingers were just right

for innocence 

and tenderness.

 

My heart broke in Ukraine. 

 

Next in the mountains

Among five of eight babes

Young Mother made 

in 11 years.

“With no hospital near, how did you birth your young?”

Near a tree. 

What-

With only ice for water and no strength behind its stream

how does Young Mother wash their clothes

when her children dirty 

themselves doing normal children things? 

She throws them away. 

Dirt and hay mingled with tiny socks and knit sweaters

She knows of nothing else, nothing better.

Family’s toilet is a big wooden box with a creaky door,

Step up from relieving themselves like before

on the mountainside.

Sent her child of seven on bus alone

to reside in a home 

for the parent-less.

Those that care shared their concern…

Young Mother confused…

asked if a different orphanage would better suit…

Until she’d enough food 

to bring her darling back.

 

But Young Mother’s young love her dearly.

Despite lack any set of eyes can see, 

Young Mother’s children are healthy

and bright. 

Her young innocently man-handle their cats 

with small but mighty grips.

They are tough, 

making steep trips in their rubber boots every day. 

Glorious hills and tiny village church sing, 

on display in their back yard.

They live a hard life. 

But Young Mother shows them it can be an adventure. 

 

My heart broke in Ukraine. 

 

Last in the street

on a rainy day.

Bus stopped before a bakery. 

Time for a sweet.

Because Sundays feel like treat-sort-of-days 

at least they do to me.

But we’d run out of time. 

The worship set about to begin,

we left the bakery,

hoping to slip into seats unnoticed. 

Swift boots mirrored in tiny puddles on the pavement,

Spirit told me there was something wrong.

Gut wave warned that 

I’d missed, not something…someone…

Ears picked up frail figure eyes did not see. 

“Bud’ Laska, bud’ laska…!”  

“Please, Please…!”

I saw Old Dear

struggling to stand straight.

Old Dear’s legs suddenly 

caved to her weight

and she was looking at me.

First whisper that escaped-

“Ma’am, what are you doing-?” 

Seemingly the wrong thing to say,

but thankfully body caught up.

Soon Old Dear was out of harm’s way

her arms around us. 

 

Tears in the creases that frame her eyes

she thanked us

and tried to wave us goodbye. 

But Old Dear is apparently a part of 

the church which we rushed to arrive

so 

across street, 

up stairs, 

and to her seat

We matched in stride. 

What a joy it was, her strength returned

As Old Dear praised One for whom heart yearns. 

Like a little one once again. 

 

My heart broke in Ukraine. 

---

 

Thank you so much for reading this piece about our ministry in Ukraine. It was such a tender time of rest as we celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas as a team, but also some very raw moments before the Lord as we observed them in pain. This month was stretching and rewarding in its own unique way, and just as with every other country, we felt sad to leave those for which we had cared deeply. 

 

However, we are encouraged! There are people in Ukraine who are VERY DELIBERATELY spreading the Church, taking it outside the building! We were so privileged to join them as they drove for hours every week to visit orphans and the impoverished in villages across the Transcarpathian region. They left straight from Sunday morning church and did not return to their homes until midnight in order to organize and run home-church services in Roma communities WEEKLY. They are dedicated to their home groups, creating an intimate community within their church body. It is truly beautiful…and many of the American church bodies can learn something from their example. 

 

Even though the Church here is stronger than the Church in the other countries we have visited, please keep them in your prayers! They need more resources and more volunteers to accomplish what the Lord has set on their hearts! Not to mention that the Devil adores stirring conflict within Christ’s Bride, so they could use your prayers for unity in the Spirit as well. Thank you so much for partnering with us and joining us in this wild journey! Your prayer MATTERS and we believe that your support has multiplied into more tiny miracles than we have time to share.

 

Oh… and MERRY CHRISTMAS!