Land of Beauty

March, 18, 2003

I open my eyes to glorious sunshine beaming through the windows. Looking out the windows of our sixth floor room in Helsinki, a view of stunning beauty greets my eyes. Every tree branch, every object is lined in ½ an inch of hoar frost. “Lord, thank you!” I breathe. Coming from the oppression of Russia into this place of refuge, a beautiful retreat for foreign missionaries, it’s as if a huge burden has lifted off my shoulders. As I grab my Bible to start morning devotions, a sense of peace envelopes me, something I have not felt for a long time. Aaron and I are staying the Lutheran Mission Home in Finland to renew our visas, a trip Aaron and I always enjoy. This home was set up to minister to Lutheran missionaries from around the world, providing them with a beautiful place to stay when home on furlough. There are multiple apartments, with small kitchenettes and a chapel and dining room for the use of the families. Part of it has been converted into a bead and breakfast for the public. This place has had much prayer and love put into it. You can feel the presence of God when you walk through the door.

With Timothy in tow, Aaron and I venture forth into the beauty for a long walk. “Let’s go walk on the Finish gulf”, I suggest. Hundreds of people are out on the frozen Baltic ocean, some cross country skiing, others jogging, or just walking. We venture out, half a mile or so from the shore and watch in astonishment as a 9 story ocean cruise liner sails majestically into the harbor through a large trough in the ice cut by icebreakers. People, looking like tiny ants as they walk on the ice, are dwarfed by the massive ship. Aaron and I decide to head back towards shore.

Her face lined with wrinkles, she eagerly waits for us to unwrap her precious Timosha, and hand him to her. She coos and tickles, kisses and hugs him, calling him beautiful, smart, and strong. Clucking and bouncing she pours out her love on our son. Four of her front teeth are missing, replaced by a metal bridge, most would look at her and see no beauty, to me she is lovely. Timothy’s Russian grandmother, Martha, has invited us over for the anniversary of his month since he was born. She knits him stockings and makes little caps to keep his head warm, giving me all sorts of advice on how to dress him, hold him, feed him, etc. Multi course feasts await us every time we arrive, her preparations starting the day before. Bent over, walking with a cane, she makes her way back and forth from the kitchen to the table many times. I insist on helping her, even as she tries to shoo me away. I wonder at this amazing woman. She lost every close male relation in the wars Russia has fought. Her husband, brothers, uncles. A whole family decimated by events beyond their control. Her only daughter died in a car accident with her husband, leaving a mentally handicapped child behind for Martha to care for. Yet without bitterness and with great love, she continues to minister and bless others, giving thanks to God for his abundant blessings.

For many of you who have given towards the Tajik ministry, I want to do a brief update. I continue to be in close contact with those ministering in the camps. There are two groups now that YWAM is working with, one with 30 families, the other with 15 (these number change frequently as families come and go). Currently, in one camp there are 9 pregnant women who will give birth sometime this year. I continue to provide funds for medicine, but mostly now for vitamins as there are no medical personnel available to minister to the families. This summer, after Timothy has finished his series of vaccinations, I will take him with me to visit one of the camps perhaps on a weekly basis. Those who know me well have asked repeatedly when I will return with him so they can rejoice with me in this long awaited child. The Schoolteacher, leader of one of the camps, has been able to find consistent work with a Finish construction company, and has helped several of the men in his camp to find work as well. Their situation has improved immensely due to this influx of income. There were many times during the bitter cold this winter, when my heart went out to this group of people living in plastic tents and garden shacks outside the city. They are no longer distant faces, but friends whom I love and know. Continue to pray for their situation, that there will be a lasting change in their lives as the Gospel is taught both in word and action.

Much love to all of you.

The Countdown Begins

December 8, 2002

Her faced wreathed in smiles, every ounce of her body exudes joy. I was so privileged to spend the last 4 days with a dear friend, Sasha. Aaron had left for a 4 day conference to Tallinn Estonia, and as it was only 10 days before due date, he wanted someone to spend the time with me. She only stands 5’2” but has more energy than a person twice her size. Together we fixed up the baby’s room, she did most the heavy lifting. We experimented with new recipes and cleaned the apartment till it shone. I can truly say that I have never met a more generous, or considerate person. The reason I say this is because she gives out of her poverty, with joy. I look at myself, and realize that most of the time I give out of my excess, holding that which is best back for my family. Sasha makes $70 a month as a neonatal intensive care nurse, watching out for 12 to 16 very ill newborns 24 hours at a time. I am amazed at her wisdom, and the love she shows for these little ones, some of whom are abandoned by their parents due to severe birth deformities. She tells me of one tiny 3 lb baby who no one thought would live but for a couple of days. The doctors basically told her not to bother trying to feed him as he would be unable to swallow. With persistent love and tender care she patiently taught this little one how to suck and swallow until he was able to take in enough food to survive. She tells me this story, a light in her eyes as she proudly speaks of how well he is doing now and the hope there is for him in the future. A Christian Finnish pediatrician has decided to adopt him. She plans to take him back to Finland for intensive therapy and surgery, giving him a second chance at life. Sasha has hundreds of children she has loved and cared for, sending home healthy well fed babies, receiving a new set of tiny preemies or failing newborns every month or two. She laughs when she tells me about seeing a full sized newborn. “They’re so fat and big!” she exclaims. “I always think they are at least 3 to 4 months old.” Jesus surely loved these little ones by sending them this precious woman.

Wednesday doctor said baby is not ready to be born yet, but is getting very big, close to 9.5 lbs by his estimate! Next Thursday, December 13th, if contractions have not started, he has asked me to come in to the Hospital for preparation to induce. He is afraid that the baby will get too big if we allow him to grow much more. I don’t completely agree with him on this issue, and am unsure on if I need to challenge him on this issue or not. Being a nurse, I know of many women who have delivered 10 lb and larger babies without great difficulty. At the same time, for a first baby, it could be a very difficult labor. Pray that God gives us wisdom in this matter, as well as the Doctor who has been following me and will deliver the baby. I continue to be pretty active for a woman who is supposed to give birth in the next few days, going to Church, attending Aaron’s company Christmas party, traveling to Christmas bazaars near the center of the city. Try as I might, I just can’t sit at home and wait, so I go waddling all over the city, traveling public transport from one end to the other. The embarrassing thing is how slow I move these days, I have been passed by several grandmothers canes in hand!!! They are the ones who watch out for me on the busses, prodding young boys or men to stand up so I can sit down. Believe me, you don’t want to get into an argument with one of these venerable ancients. And my coat? I can’t even close it in the front any more. Not always convenient when the temperature is in the single digit numbers. Aaron keeps telling me that I don’t look THAT pregnant. He is such a sweet man!
This week Aaron came home from work with a notice from the post office saying we had a package waiting for us there. As he worked the following day, he asked if I could pick it up. I quickly agreed until I looked at the weight written on the notice. “Babe, this is close to 25 lbs, I don’t think I will be able to carry it all.” Aaron grabbed the slip and looked at it closer and instantly agreed. The next day, I waited eagerly for him to come home after work and a client Christmas party. Aaron had called me earlier to taunt me with the fact that there was so much stuff, he could hardly fit it in our big back pack. Aaron and I had immense fun that night opening all the gifts and cards from the Bet Tikva Congregation in Seattle. We had worked with the youth of this Messianic Congregation for close to two years, as well as participated in worship. Many of our close friends there held a shower for us and recorded hellos from everyone attending. What a blessing!! To all of you who participated thank you so much for the package you sent with all the gifts for baby Bogott (Aaron loves the chocolate and candy – I am on a sugar restriction, which he does not mind at all). We are so blessed!

Soon dear friends, we will be writing you an announcement to let you know of the birth of our son. Aaron says if it turns out to be a girl, we will be really in trouble – no name, no girl colored clothing etc. Dr. assures us that the ultrasound shows a 95% chance of it being a boy. Aaron’s excitement is growing exponentially as the day approaches – he will make such an awesome father!
We love you and miss you all!

Aaron, Ramona, and Squirmy Bogott

The War of the Rat

October 6, 2002

1st night: CRASH!! I am jolted out of my sleep by a loud noise coming from the kitchen area. Aaron continues to sleep soundly. My heart pounding, I wait to hear footsteps, thinking someone is in the apartment. I debate on waking my exhausted husband and decide to let him sleep. Silently, I pray for our computer and printer, that whoever is there will not take it. Then I pray for our own safety. After 30 minutes of hard listening, I decide that maybe one of the dishes fell and no one is there. Our floor is so poorly made no one could walk across it without loud creaking sounds. In the morning, Aaron wakes up early to get ready for work. I hear a loud “Ramona!” coming from the hall. Aaron stands near the kitchen door holding up our bread bag with a huge hole through both bags and a large chunk of bread missing. I poke my head in the kitchen and see dishes scattered on the floor, and a trail of white dust coming from behind the fridge. “I think we have a rat”, Aaron comments. I look at the size of the teeth marks in the bag and agree.

2nd night: “I’m going to try the water bucket method”. Aaron is gathering the needed supplies and filling our mop bucket with water. I look at him skeptically as he places a thin board on the edge of the table with a piece of bread and peanut butter on the end. “You see, the rat should walk out on the board to get the food, then fall into the bucket of water below it and drown,” he explains to me. I imagine a very wet and angry rat greeting us in the morning from our mop bucket, and tell Aaron he has the job of getting rid of it if his method works. 2 am and a splash is heard from the kitchen. Aaron and I race out to find the board in the bucket, but no rat.

3rd night: We are getting worried as our guest from Seattle is arriving tomorrow and her room is located next to the kitchen. After 3 hours of searching, we have finally found a heavy duty metal rat trap, strong enough to do some serious damage. It has large teeth on the edge and looks like it could take the head off any rodent. Aaron carefully bates the trap, attesting to its effectiveness when he catches his finger in it leaving several bloody wounds on his poor first knuckle. The next morning, bread and peanut butter are gone, but the trap is not sprung. Not only that, but our pet has now taken a bite out of every apple and tomato in our produce basket ruining the whole lot. From the size of the teeth marks this is one huge animal. I suggest rat poison, but Aaron is afraid of not finding the body until the smell leads us to it.

4th night: We apologize profusely to Andrea, a lovely girl who studied with Aaron at the University of Washington. “We have a critter living with us”, Aaron explains nervously. I had told him earlier that it would be a good cultural experience for our guest, and not to worry because Andrea is a world traveler. 4 am and we hear the trap spring. After several nights of little sleep Aaron doesn’t want to crawl out of our warm bed to investigate. Ten minutes later a horrendous noise begins as the rat goes through its death throes. We wait till no noise comes from the kitchen then Aaron bravely marches out to find out what we cought. He quickly returns to the bedroom, a look of disgust on his face. “It’s the biggest rat I have ever seen” He exclaims. Shivers run up my back as I think of what we have been living with the last few nights. With gloved hands, Aaron double bags the creature and we throw it into the nearby trash bin across the street. Our guest states she needed to use the restroom, but heard the rat and was too afraid to venture from her room till we had taken care of it.

What amused me most about our adventure was the reaction of my Russian coworkers. Their horror and disgust was greater than mine. The ambulance crew from my clinic was ready to drive over to our place and take care of our little problem the first day I talked about it. I had every advice from what kind of poison to use, to what kind of trap to buy. Someone even offered to loan me their cat, although I think the cat would have been terrified of what we caught. Whatever the case, it is dead and gone, and hopefully none of its relatives will follow.

Blessings to all of you! Sleep tight.