Category Archives: Personal

Written by on | 4 Comments

Happy 4th!

Vitaliy and I have this running debate in our relationship about how I’m really Ukrainian. That its in my bloooooooooood!

It goes all the way back to the first day we met. I get out my family tree and recount how my great grandparents came to America from Ukraine. I show him pictures of my grandmother in her Ukrainian dance costume that made it into the local newspaper. We even ate pirogi and golubtsi every Christmas Eve, I’d tell him.

Though all of that is true, let’s face it, I’m an American! From the land of the free! (But don’t tell Vitaliy that! I’m still trying to win this debate.)

Hope you all have a splendid 4th of July! Eat an extra hot dog for me.

viva-america-viva-ukraine_thumb
Chime in  or Share
Written by on | 4 Comments

My Passion: Exposed

Candace

A few years ago, I spontaneously posted on Facebook that I was going to Pioneer Woman’s book signing in San Francisco and asked if anyone wanted to join me.

I’m friends with a lot of people I don’t truly know in real life so I was essentially inviting a perfect stranger. One of my previous bride’s sister responded yes to my invite. By the end of the evening, my Facebook friend had become a real life friend. Kimberly, if you still read this blog, I still cherish this memory!

To be honest though, I don’t think I’ve been that spontaneous since. Putting yourself out there is scary. Following your heart or even sharing what’s on your heart, can be intimidating. But after being inspired by Lara Casey and recalling this sweet memory, I think it’s time I do.

The problem is that I don’t really know what my idea is. All I know is that I want to help couples. My heart breaks for couples who feel they have no hope to keep trying. I want to be there to tell them to keep pressing on. Besides this blog, I don’t really know how to do this. Maybe it looks like having a cup of coffee together. Maybe it’s hosting a marriage seminar. Big or small, I want to do something. I’d love to even pray for you! Maybe that’s it – maybe it starts by you emailing me how I can pray for your relationship or marriage, or a friend’s or family member’s.

Who knows! God does. And I’m stepping out in faith and going to trust Him to guide this heart of mine and use me as He sees fit.

Ideas are welcome! Thanks for listening. And feel free to share with anyone who might be interested.

Chime in  or Share
Written by on | 3 Comments

Washing the Dust Away

Trolley on the cobblestone streets of Chernivtsi in Ukraine

I went to put on my shoes yesterday morning before heading to the airport and a cloud of dust puffed out as I untied the laces. At first I was annoyed. I dealt with so much dust and dirt since my arrival in Ukraine.

Every time I got home to the apartment in Kiev I had to wash my feet before getting into bed. An extra step to take when all I wanted to do was rest after the amount of walking we did there. My initial thought was, I can’t wait to wash my shoes when I get home. But as I sat there contemplating the thought saddened me. That dirt was filled with so many memories. It could have come from the streets of Kiev where I walked and watched my relationships with Vitaliy’s sisters blossom with every step. It could have been dirt from Vitaliy’s grandparents farm in the village where I got to hear and see stories about my husband spending his summers picking berries and fetching water from the well. I could have also picked the dirt up in Chernivtsi, the city where Vitaliy grew up and where I discovered how he came to be the man he is today.

To wash the dust from these shoes feels like I’ll be washing away memories that I hold so dear. Dirt never sounded so important to me, especially dirt from Ukraine. I will remember the dust and dirt, the sweat and the mosquito bites. Like all discomforts in life, if you look closely enough, they likely carry with them memories that you never want to forget.

This trolleybus in Chernivtsi is one of the few models remaining that dates all the way back to the 1960’s.

Chime in  or Share