Several years ago, I saw a sign in the metro (subway) in Hong Kong.  The sign said, “Mind the Gap.”  It took me a second of processing to understand what it meant.  I recently learned what would happen if the gap was left…hmm… unminded.  
     The Metro was crowded this past Wednesday.  It was the 8:30 a.m. rush hour.  I was alone but armed with directions to the Abalone Hospital to visit the babies.  Most of the ministry team was in meetings.
     People aren’t friendly in public transportation systems,  When the Metro stops, people push and shove their way on and off.  I’m not the aggressive sort.  Besides, I’d given myself an extra half hour to find the route since I was alone for the first time.  I waited for the third Metro to pass before deciding I better just squeeze in.  It’s easy. You step inside, and the four people entering behind you will smash you further in.  It’s quite... cozy.
     The problem came at the stop in Arsenala.  Seemed I wanted to stay on while everyone else wanted off.  When the doors opened, I fought a losing battle to stay on the Metro.  The next thing I knew I was falling, not stumbling, but falling vertically.  My right leg had gone down the shaft between the train and the station platform.  I was submerged almost to my hip and a bit amount of skin had been ripped off my lower leg.  Worst of all, I was stuck.
     Before I could remember the Russian word for “help,” I was grabbed by the shoulders by someone (really several people) and hoisted back on the station platform.  I never saw their faces though.       I jumped back on the Metro before the doors shut and continued my journey.  The experience was weird, but it happened too quickly for me to be afraid.  My leg didn’t feel great, but I decided to wait until I was at the hospital to check it out.     “Oh, Markus,” I was told afterwards, “With all those people in a hurry, they would’ve never seen you.  If that Metro had moved even slightly, you wouldn’t be standing here.  You definitely wouldn’t have a leg, and I don’t think the ambulance would’ve made it to you on time.”
     I really want to believe that the Metro conductor would’ve been paying attention, and I would’ve been fine.   Still, I’ve never spent so much time specifically thanking God for my right leg.

¶ 1:07 PM //

Here's my good friend Misha and I sometime before worship.

¶ 4:45 PM //

For people who are interested in seeing what Russian looks like, here's a little sample of a worship slide I made. The translation isn't word for word, in case you try to figure it out. (And no, I'm not good enough in Russian to translate.)

¶ 4:43 PM //

Man makes orchards but God makes forests.  Did you ever see the straight lines of planted trees in an apple orchard?  Nice and even, but not a very pleasant walk.  Trees in nature, God’s handiwork, are different sizes and shapes.  They’ve been shaped by seasons and storms.  Great forests are magnificent experiences and can be visited, year after year with continual new discoveries.
In my opinion, Holy Spirit centered worship should be like that.  Worship songs, when regimentally arranged and practiced, lose some of their life.  They become cookie cutter versions of CDs previously heard.  No matter how good a CD is, it’s still a recording of a previous experience.  To duplicate it can be impressive, even educational, but also cheapening.  It’s the difference between a hand woven rug and its’ factory reproduction.  There’s a reason the one at Walmart is a quarter of the price.
     Based on this philosophy, we’ve starting a new method of worship “rehearsals.”  Rather than traditional worship practices, we’re having Weekly Jam Sessions.  We’ve already tried this once or twice.  Musicians bring worship stuff they’d like to teach, learn or play.  We’ll learn some new songs, but in the context of enjoying them and worshipping with them while teaching each other what we know.  Musicians will be able to stop and work out chord progressions or rhythm styles, without playing a song to death by the time we play it publicly.  In the midst of these times, hopefully we can pick out the songs that seem to have fuel for our fire.
     Worship has a unique dimension here.  Nearly everything is sang in two languages, English and Russian.  Of course, there are people of other languages in our base, but everyone speaks one or both of these languages.  While I’m no fan of Cultural Imperialism, it made things easier leading worship.
The negative side is that we can’t introduce a new song, unless we can get a Russian translation.  The Russian speakers won’t be able to participate.  While we have translators, converting song lyrics is more complicated than regular translation.  The new words have to fit the rhythm and phrasing of the melody.  
I’d like to see more songs written by Ukrainians and Russians in their native
tongues that we have to translate into English.  God bless Australia, but we shouldn’t rely on English speaking countries for our worship music when God is doing great things here, in the lives of this Slavic people.  Every revival in modern church history grew a crop of new hymns or worship songs.  I think it’s time to see something planted here.

¶ 2:17 PM //

     It’s ice fishing season here.  It’s rather peculiar really, but most Ukrainians I know don’t understand it either.  As soon as there was ice on the lake, there were fishermen popping holes into it and trying to catch fish.
     One morning, Jeff and I stared out the back of the good ship Venetsia watching them for a while.  We saw a man with a stick (that seems to have some sort of metal tip  at the end) pound into the ice.  One… two… three… four times, and the spear went through to cold water.
     To us, “four times and then you’re through” would be red flag indicating, “Get off the ice immediately.  Do not pass Go!  Do not collect two hundred dollars.”  To the ice fishing man, it meant sitting on a metal bucket close to the hole, dropping a line and seeing if you can catch a fish or something.  
     In fairness, I don’t spend much time watching them, but I haven’t seen anyone catch any fish yet.  I’m willing to bet that many of them will catch a cold though.  The newspaper reports that 30 to 50 people die every year by going through the ice.
     Someone told me that the ice fishing season started late this year.  Some of the fishermen blame Americans because they drive all those cars and cause global warming.  At first I thought that was a pretty unfair accusation, but then I remembered that in America, we blame global warming on chopping down the rainforests in South America.  Makes me wonder who the South Americans blame.  Part of me hopes, they blame the Ukrainians for smoking all those cigarettes, but I’m not holding my breath (er… figuratively anyway).

¶ 9:23 AM //

Now look at those eyes and tell me you could just walk away...

¶ 7:56 AM //

I’m a strong male. I make it a point not to get too emotionally involved in my ministry. There’s too much need to help everyone, too much desire in me to do something to change the world. You have to put up a bit of a shield because at some point you have to leave the hospital or the orphanage or the rehab center. God is their Father and their Provider, not me. I just try to reflect Him.
And sometimes, some kid manages to work his way past all your defenses. He doesn’t do it on purpose. It’s like in the cartoon. Did you ever notice that the Coyote is always defeated by the Roadrunner? But the Roadrunner is completely oblivious to the whole thing. He’s just living his life, eating his birdseed, enjoying the open road in the desert. Meanwhile the Coyote is smashed between a boulder and an anvil and a stick of dynamite.
That’s what that rascally Zhenya is, he’s a little roadrunner. He’s only a few months old, but he’s got big smiling eyes and a full head of hair. He rarely cries and he’s just able to get to a crawling position now. He’s a little softie and a cuddler. I know the kind very well, I’m a cuddler too.
We met Zhenya (the Zh is pronounced like the “s” in pleasure mixed with a “j”) at the abandoned baby wing of the hospital. He doesn’t look like an abandoned baby. He looks like he belongs to someone. He’s just too happy. He’s too loveable. How could anyone let this one go? I only just met him on Wednesday but I’m telling you, he’s a keeper.
My friend Rachel was in complete agreement. In fact, I had to ask her kindly to please not pick him up, because I wanted him next. She found him first, it’s true. She held him for a good part on Wednesday. But he was looking at me during that time. He was beaming with that big open mouth smile, silently saying, “You love me too, don’t you, Pastor Markus. Too bad only one person can hold me at once, huh?” I swear he was saying that with his eyes. Nonverbal communication, man!
So by Friday, I was already plotting. Can I just take him home for the weekend? December 7th is when Ukrainians celebrate Christmas. Shouldn’t Zhenya be able to go somewhere for Christmas. I kept asking these questions to Sonya. She speaks the language. Maybe she could pull some strings with the nurses. But no, Sonya had to maintain some respectability. She’s the professional among us.
But Rachel’s with me. We’ll think of something, I tell you. Rachel said that if we married Ukrainians, it would be easier to adopt him but she insists on joint custody or at least visitation rights if I go that route. We also investigated whether my coat was large enough to sneak him inside. (Note to hospital: No, I’m not seriously considering stealing your babies! These are merely the sentimental rantings of a defeated coyote.)
Anyway, my prospects look slim, as you can see. So when you come to visit me, you should be prepared for this sort of inner conflict. Meanwhile I’m going see if I can call and return this Acme Emotional Armor.
Below this entry are more pictures of Zhenya and the rest.

Markus

¶ 7:50 AM //

Do I have the best job in the world, or what?  Zhena (Full name is pronounced yev-GYE-neey) is in my arms while Vicka (Victoria) takes advantage of the photo op. 

¶ 7:40 AM //

My co-conspirator Rachel.  What scheme is going through her mind right now? 

¶ 7:36 AM //

Sonya has to be strong for the rest of us.

¶ 7:17 AM //