"a journey of self"

After two and a half months in Kyiv, I have discovered that the most refreshing aspect of being here has also proven the most difficult. Although many people expressed their horror to me when they realized I did not know a single person before coming, it has not been an issue. Rather, it is the fact that no one knows me that has incurred both unexpected pleasure and unforeseen longing for home at different times.

In Nashville, many times I desired to escape “being known” by certain stereotypes or labels. I graduated from David Lipscomb High School in 1999, and went on to Vanderbilt University on a football scholarship. There I ended up with a double major in Philosophy and Religious Studies, along with a double minor in English and Astronomy. Honestly, I had no idea what I wanted to do, but I enjoyed these subjects because they all addressed in some way the fundamental essence of life. Football challenged me in quite different ways than these academic pursuits; however, it pounded into me many “life lessons” and forcefully exposed me to some extremely difficult situations.

As a senior at Vanderbilt, at times enduring and at other times enjoying my final football season, I realized that I wanted something different for my life. As all of the questions and deadlines started to sneak towards me and harass me, I knew that I needed a drastic change of some nature. Playing football at David Lipscomb, and having success there, and then at Vanderbilt, where success was more limited, but exposure magnified, created a “name” for me, and I became “known” by many people. I knew that I had a huge web of support in Nashville from many different places: the Lipscomb community, my church family at Otter Creek, and the Vanderbilt community. However, I felt the need to spread my wings, to exert myself (as I had not had to do for so long) and test myself. At times I wondered who I really would be if I was not “known.” I had so many labels, so many “niches” in which I fit, that I was never allowed to create myself, to decide who to be; other people assumed they already knew.

This frustration smoldered within me throughout the first semester of my senior year, but I did not really begin to realize its implications until after Christmas when I returned to school. With the help of my mother at a “planning” dinner, I determined several characteristics for which I would look in any future consideration. After this dinner I went to bed intending to wake up and begin my search for a program or occupation that allowed me to do the following: live somewhere outside Nashville, hopefully another country; continue to learn, preferably a new language; be self-motivated to work because it had a purpose in which I believed; and work with and serve other people in some capacity.

My search did not last long. Awakening the next morning, I discovered an email from my older sister relating a presentation she had heard in church the previous night. A young woman, about a year out of college, had recounted her experiences during the past year as a missionary in Ukraine. That young woman, Katie Boyer, who had just returned from a year in Kyiv, inspired my sister to write me and inform me of such an opportunity. Perusing the website my sister had sent that morning, I realized how perfectly this opportunity fit all of the qualifications I had set forth the previous night. Later that week, as I still chewed on this idea, I discovered that Jerry Collins, a member of the board of the UEC and of our church, had called my parents to tell them about this internship. Because he thought that I was “perfectly suited” for this situation, he wanted to see if I might be interested. God made sure my doubts could not interfere with His will for me; he doubly informed me of His plans. Never before in my life have I felt so clearly, so certainly that God had a plan for me. After receiving valuable insight into missionary work and the UEC in particular from a long lunch with Katie, several talks with Scott Owings, and a breakfast meeting with Paul Prill, I decided to gather my courage and step out on faith.

Now that I have been here for two months, the certainty that it was God’s will for me to come has only grown stronger. Through the UEC, I am able to use the talents that God gave me to strengthen and instruct the believers as well as to reach out to those that do not know Him. One of my primary occupations will be teaching, (an occupation I will no doubt continue once I return to America). At the Center, I am teaching two classes designed primarily for believers. In the first, I am leading a discussion group on the theological fantasies of C.S. Lewis, one of the most influential writers for my faith, and in the second class I am lecturing on a subject that became my passion after a course entitled “Theories of the Universe” at Vanderbilt. This course deals with the relationship of science and religion through the mediums of history, epistemology, and modern cosmology. Furthermore, to interact with more students, I have set up “office hours” at the UEC during which students can come receive help writing or comprehending an assignment, and a weekly athletic outing, playing American football, Ukrainian “futbol,” and Ultimate Frisbee. In addition to these uses of my talents, I have also had the opportunity to learn unceasingly. Studying the Russian language, learning the computer operations at the library, cooking a meal for as many as 15 people in my cell, and creating a website to share my experience with my family and other friends (www.uecenter.org/internship/jonathan/ShaubKyiv/index.htm), among other things, have all stimulated me with challenge and achievement.

Forced to use my abilities in new ways for practical and worthy goals, I have found many moments of contentment here in Kyiv. Meeting, interacting with, learning from, and teaching the various people here through the UEC or Nyvky church has continually refreshed me with icily clean water. No one knows anything about me; I have had to create my self all over again. Constantly, I am being tested and challenged, stretched and questioned, and I am relishing the experience. However, as invigorating as this experience has been, it has also made me wish for home. At times, a usually quiet inner voice sneaks up on me and says he is exhausted, tired of creating and weary of movement, and longs to rest in that comfortable web at home. However, these are the times I turn to my Refuge and my Peace; and, in the end, these times are the most exhilarating because I have nowhere else to turn.