This will be the first year I write a first-person Christmas letter. It is my habit to write a third-person, humorous account of my year in review. To be honest, this was the hardest year of my life. I am thankful for this year, for the growth it caused in my life, and for the people that surrounded me in it - but it was hard.
I moved full time to Lviv, Ukraine. It was wonderful to finally have a full time placement. For the previous 3 years, I hadn't slept in the same bed or room for more than three months at any time. This had been exhausting, and I was thankful for the permanency of home.
Moving is stressful. Upon arrival, I plunged head first into full time language study. Nazar lived with me, and we would have lessons, lunch, lessons, dinner, some fun or friends over in the evening, and then more language study before bed. Usually we would still be having lessons at 1 in the morning. I loved this exhausting time of cramming cases and rules into my head. In my spare time I took up painting and found I have a real knack for it.
My brain was so tired from language lessons, that I really couldn't function enough to do anything else. The entire winter was consumed with language lessons and cultural adaptation. Nazar's grandmother took me into her home for the holidays and made me feel part of the family.
In the spring, I began working more and more with our church planting efforts in Stryi. Vitya, an older teenager from the church, traveled with me back and forth to work with us in the effort. It was good to get to know Vitya. Although he doesn't speak a word of English, and isn't my translator, it is still nice to have a native speaker to help me out from time to time. In the mornings, or in the evenings when I am tired; I am completely incapable of speaking Ukrainian. There were many times when Vitya did a good job helping me navigate difficult situations. Sadly, we had to close down our efforts in that town.
I also had a chance to have breakfast with Illya's mom and worship with them at their Greek Catholic church. I took a vacation in Romania and had a wonderful time with some European friends in their final days as exchange students. It was perfect and relaxing.
I came home early so that I could see Nazar off to the airport. He is a mission intern - and I am incredibly proud of his service in South Korea. It was on my way to the airport with him and his grandmother that I got the call that there had been an accident at the student center. The day was filled with confusion and sadness. By the evening, all of our faces were plastered on all of the news outlets and we understood that our dear friend Illya had died, as well as an American from the team, David Nevotti. David Goran was in the hospital without anti-biotics or painkillers and it was clear that he would need to be airlifted to Germany to have his pelvis operated on.
Our Bishop, Hans, and his wife Kaika came to be with us and it was wonderful to have their wise presence at the time. The criminal investigation opened up and put our pastor and community at risk. The weeks and months that follow are somewhat of a blur. If asked to recreate a time-line, I don't know if I could. All I remember is how wonderful the Ukrainians in our community were throughout the entire ordeal. The constant meetings, being stopped by a friend on the street and ducking into an alleyway for prayer, the Bible-verse sharing, the 3 AM phone calls with my pastor.
Pastor Lyubomir watched a video on surviving in a Ukrainian prison. One of the hints was to have lots of cigarettes on you when you were arrested so that you could trade for things you needed. Lyubomir and I both bought packs of cigarettes and started carrying them, just in case. When we would greet one another, we would silently tap our hidden packs of cigarettes. Thankfully, the legal fears were nothing but fear. We faced each day, and the two of us shared the burden of dealing with the legal situation.
My colleague and friend from New York, Vladimir Shaporenko came for a visit. It was good to spend time with him, and for him to see this incredible ministry. He was blown away by how wonderful the students were. He promises to return again and spend more time with us.
My dear friend Maks, the first of the students to embrace me as a brother, passed away under unknown and mysterious circumstances. His funeral was unexplainably hard.
After Nazar left, the guest room was empty. Nazar and I had talked with Vitya about furthering his education - and I had encouraged him to apply to a technical college. He excitedly called to let me know that he had been accepted to one. The next day he showed up with his bags. I slowly put everything together - that of course he had understood that our encouragement and my excitement had been an invitation of a place to live. I was tired of living alone, understood that his family could never afford to pay for him to live in the city, and gladly accepted the company.
After a few months, it was obvious that his reading skills weren't strong enough for the technical college and he was put in a remedial program. Although he is 19, he was put with 15 year olds in a high school. Rather than a roommate, I ended up with an accidental teenage son. My evenings are filled with homework help, remedial reading, and other parenting things. My house is filled with his teenage friends, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Everyone at church teases me about having a teenage son and still no wife, but it's a good-natured joke and I enjoy it.
Following the accident I also found a few new friends, who have been wonderful companions and truly compassionate to me. I don't know if I would have survived without Den and Olya in addition to all of my friends from the student center. I also found out that I really enjoy translating Ukrainian poetry into English. I've been told that I have a knack for it, and will hopefully publish some poems next year.
This year has been long, hard, and challenging. But, I have grown, matured, and changed. I hope that all of you will have a wonderful Christmas. Thank you for keeping me in your prayers this year. I pray that next year will be a blessed one for all of us.
Love, Michael Airgood.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment