I’ve recently joined the staff of Youth With a Mission (YWAM) Kyiv. The YWAM base here has over 60 staff here and many students from around the world. Within the base there are training schools, church planting, counseling and family ministries, and many other specialized fields of ministry. I’m a part of “Key of Hope,” which was called, “YWAM Street Kids Ministry” but changed its name because we work with not just street kids, but orphans, and local children of various backgrounds as well.

I arrived safely on Wednesday afternoon and was finally able to get an internet connection this weekend. By the way, I flew Polish Airlines, which despite a less than stellar reputation, brought me here without incident. A non-eventful flight is a good flight, as far as I’m concerned. At one point they did direct me to the wrong gate. Feeling suspicious, I kept asking to make sure. Only at five minutes before departure, was I told that indeed I was at the wrong gate. I had to go through security again too.

You may be interested in my housing situation. I’m on the third floor of an 8-floor soviet style apartment building. By “soviet style” I mean that it’s mass produced, essentials-only housing. So the building is not aesthetically pleasing at all. You’re fairly safe to say that “soviet style” is not an adjective of honor. On the other hand, the apartment is more spacious than I expected. My bedroom is sizable by my standards at least, and the facilities are very functional. I understand that this is only a temporary situation for us anyway. The landlord isn’t “soviet style” at all, and she provided us with some new fixtures for the sink and has been open to all of our requests.

I think the elevator is the scariest part of living here. It’s very small and old and you can see through parts of it, which is only nice when an elevator is actually made of glass. The girls in our group try to get as many people in the elevator as possible. I don’t see a sign showing the weight limit so one can only hope and pray. Being on the third floor, I generally just use the stairs, but some of our team lives on the sixth floor in another building which makes walking impractical.

I have a roommate. His name is Rosen. He’s a Bulgarian who was adopted by American missionaries when he was 12. He’s a great roommate, and a “worship-head” like me. So there’s always worship music either played or sung in our apartment. We get along well. But of course it’s still early in the game, so we haven’t had time to drive each other crazy yet.

I haven’t worked with any children yet in the traditional sense. I’ve had an orientation meeting and a base family night and then connection time with my team on Saturday. Today I went “shopping” for a home church. I think I’ve found it. It’s called Hillsong Church of Kiev, or something like that. If you’re familiar with Hillsongs Music (Shout to the Lord, anyone?) or Hillsong church in Australia, this is a sister church. Even though my translation headphones zapped out on me during the sermon, I feel pretty good about the place. I have been invited to other churches, including a really big one called, “Sunday Church,” that’s pretty famous around the world, and an American church. But it seems to me to be an American going to an American church is a bit of a cop out if I’m trying to reach Ukrainians for Jesus. I suspect that the church is more likely there to attract expatriate Americans, and could be effective for people missing the States and dealing with culture shock.

The attached pic is my apartment building in Kyiv, and the other one with me and some Ukrainian youth. (The guy on my right is Rosen)

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