Sunday, July 1, 2012


Yes, I am blogging from Buryatia, Russia! Thank you so much for your prayers. I have personally seen God's hands move during this trip, and I believe intercessory prayer plays a major role in that! I have so much to say and have so little time. Because of that I want to simply share with you something that has branded my heart today.

After Sunday morning church service here in our home (we have been sleeping in this church for the past week) we went out to eat. Russia restaurants rock. Just sayin :) And since it is a day of rest and all, we decided check out the city. We went out to one of Lenin's statues. It was a rough part of town. When I say rough, that is quite the statement because Russia's "normal"= America's "rough" if you catch my drift. A man who lived in Seattle and moved to Buryatia with his family to be a full time missionary was our guide.

Here at the top of some steps, with cracked roads, graffiti and sad little houses below, we prayed. We raised our hands and prayed for Buryatia. The fire of God moved through us as we prayed, and I believe that more churches will be planted here sometime soon.

After this small excursion we visited the market to look around. On our way down one of the streets, I saw a one story building. The windows looked vintage, something I would instagram. Actually they were just very old and falling apart. In one of these windows something caught my eye from a distance. I can't deny that this thing that caught my eye was something that would be stuck with me forever. At this window stood a dirty little boy. Half naked and wide-eyed, he stared at us walking by. The window was a perfect size for him because as he stood, a part of the window opened for him to stick his head out a little. Our group all saw him but I lingered behind, thinking about what I could do for this little boy. I do not know who he was, I do not know if that building was an orphanage and I do not know if he was physically or emotionally abused. But I felt a deep sadness for this little being. I was engulfed in thought until I saw Nik stop at a little grandma's stand where she sat on the floor trying to sell random objects. There we actually found a toy truck. We bought it for 20p which is equal to about 63 cents. As Nik and I walked back to the window, I expected the little boy to jump with joy. But he did not. He could not say a word as we asked him his name and handed him the toy. In his dark eyes I wanted to see a hint of happiness, but I instead saw confusion. He took the toy and simply keeled down at the window pane and set it down near his knees. Then he pressed his face and hands into to window to stare at us. I can see his dirty little forehead and nose squishing into the glass, this image has been haunting me.

Since I am thinking about him anyway, I am praying for this little boy. I pray that he has a bright future, that the love of God would be shown to him. I also think of him at this moment as he holds this toy and thinks of the strange smiling people who gave it to him. I hope that he saw Jesus in us.