On the right is the Babushka from the story below. No, not all the way on the right, that's Vicka. I mean the Babushka next to Vicka. You're such a jokester.

¶ 5:23 PM //

First, some news. I’m coming home March 15th for visa renewal, but I’m taking care of taxes, my house, and a special Veggie birthday party. I return to Kyiv April 12. Hope to see many while I’m home.

Did you ever want to live among the Amish, just for a while, to see what it was like? I’ve been impressed with the simplicity, their self sufficiency. Understand, I love electricity. I love hot water more. I like technology, except of course cell phones.

My recent trip to Moldova leaned a bit Amishward. A good percentage of the water I used, I cranked out of the well myself. Electricity was never promised. More bathrooms were outdoor than indoor. I even saw a milkman with his horse and cart with those big metal canisters of milk you see in the movies. Yeah, he knew I was a foreigner.

The main purpose of this outreach was to set stage for a school starting this fall. YWAM is starting their first Discipleship Training School (DTS) in Moldova’s history, to train more missionaries to do the kinda stuff I do. We worked with area social workers (I’m told there are 6 social workers for 40 thousand people), making contacts for ministry opportunities for those future students. Meanwhile, I taught English to several groups. We visited and prayed with ladies in a nursing home, and visited special needs kids.

And I did something I surprisingly loved. I chopped wood for Babushkas. (grandmas) I kinda hate to bring this story up, but one day, while three of us men were working, a babushka came out to give instruction. I’d say she was around eighty, but one ought not ever to ask.

She said, “Malchik, malchik, nyet nyet. Smauhtri.” (“Hey, boy, not like that. Watch me.”) With that she lifted the axe high in the air and quickly hacked through a log. Completely put us to shame, mere amateurs in her sight. How could this woman hoist such an axe and bring it down with that kind of force? They sure make ‘em sturdier in Eastern Europe.

There’s something that feels wholesome when you’re helping people like this, hauling a bucket of water for a widow or playing soccer with a lonely kid. It’s not like preaching to a crowd or going to yet another meeting. You’re helping a person with a simple, obvious need. The sermon isn’t necessary.

The Bible doesn’t record this, but remember that time Jesus fed the 5000? I bet that evening, he stunk like fish. He’d been handling the stuff for hours maybe. Why wouldn’t he smell? But that’s a righteous smell, an honorable smell. He was gettin’ dirty for the people he loved. Mixing the spiritual and the practical.

At the end of the woodcutter day, you say, “I’m tired. I could use a shower… oh yeah, no water.” But it’s fine, because the widow will stay warm for half a month at least. Why do I love this so much? Silly Markus, it’s written all over in the Royal Book. Helping widows and orphans is a major ingredient in “pure religion.” (See James 1:27) I like it mainly because the God I serve is looking at me, smiling.

¶ 5:21 PM //

We visited special needs kids with the help of social workers. This little guy was quite amazed by the balloon animal.

¶ 3:44 PM //

Two of the students I went to Moldova with. Isn't that a great picture of Sveta?

¶ 3:40 PM //