Discovering L’viv–beautiful city in Ukraine
Less than 24 hours in L’viv and I’m beginning to understand what it really means to be Ukrainian. Though my family talked about the Czars, Cossacks, Revolutions and Russia stripping away their identity as a nation, I didn’t grow up in this environment. Listening to a few of its citizens, I heard sadness and distress as they talked about their financial struggles, Putin’s war along their Eastern border, and dissatisfaction with government leaders. Naivety is nonexistent. Ukrainian are resigned to the idea of corruption in their own government, they just want a little less of it.
“Why should I believe this new government leadership will be much different from the last one?”
Despair is understandable. “Hoping for the best” doesn’t exist. Compared to Ukrainians, I live with potential and hope. In a few months I return to my home in America while young men here remain fighting for their freedoms.
War in Ukraine is a way of life. It always sits right at their doorstep. That feeling of dread; “something bad is about to happen” grips these citizens.
Everything becomes exceedingly important–more than we ever imagine–when faced with war. We reevaluate what is and is not necessary in our life. We find something to hold onto, something to hope for, something stronger than ourselves.
Though it meant my arm would be vulnerable and unprotected, I carefully removed the cast on it myself. I appreciate, once again, the ability to slip my arm carefully into warm clothing again. As long as I keep the arm covered with sweaters and coats, all the bruises and swelling remains hidden. Pain medication covers up the pain so I can continue this journey with God. My heart is overwhelmed with gratitude for all God gives, not the monetary possessions, but the freedom to worship; the movement of my arms and legs to walk, reach and carry small items; the ability to view the beauty of God’s creation as well as man’s creativity; and listen or speak about my journey with God to those I meet.
The hotel lobby displayed a beautiful crystal tree lighting up the area leading into the mirrored elevators.
Within a few blocks of my hotel numerous churches avail themselves to those desiring a time of prayer or reflection. The domed architecture is different from Western Europe’s tall cathedrals. The orthodox Christian church prevails here.
An Orthodox church still stands proudly.
Many are still charred from bombs and fires with windows boarded up or simply left unprepared. Yet, in the past Popes have visited; celebrations held with parades on town square. For a few days, I’m celebrating life with them.
Scars of wars. Stained glass windows either missing or boarded up.
One church, devastated by wars, now holds precious artifacts left intact despite occupation of this land by neighboring countries. One door provides entrance into the museum; the other door opens into the church sanctuary. Apart from times of mass, the door to the sanctuary is locked; the door to the museum opens.
The ratio exchange from American to Ukraine currency allowed entrance into this church/museum was less than one USD. Though a great benefit to me, it means further hardship to Ukrainians in the world market place. This knowledge increased a desire to help others wherever the need was seen. (Twenty dollars goes a long way here.)
Excavated from the country’s oldest burial site, this man and woman died in one another’s ams.
Some of the earliest artifacts of any european civilization (especially Christian ones) are showcased here.
From Constantinople (the center of Christianity for over a thousand years) Christ’s followers built churches in this region; Kings and Lords constructed their castles; while early settlers built forts and villages. God’s presence was and still is, central to this country.
Breastplates from crusades, almost a thousand years ago.
As if stepping into a postcard from decades past, Austria and Poland occupation abounds everywhere I look yet, I feel rooted in the “Ukrainian-ness” of this city. Though the beauty of autumn’s golden leaves blanket this area, springtime flowers and festivals must be even more amazing.
Narrow, cobblestone streets; sidewalk restaurants; musicians and artistic overtones beckon to me. My feet take me where my senses lead!
Accordion music plays for passerbys (including the local police force). The mantra is “laugh for today. Who knows what might happen tomorrow!
I posed with a young girl dressed in costume with a small gold trunk placed near her feet.
Opera House, central to L’viv town square.
Local Ukrainian dishes–by the end of the meal, I ordered nearly one of each.
Discovering and enjoying my Ukrainian heritage above this beautiful city, situated on the edge of Eastern Ukraine.
Residents of this city boast of the similarities with Paris. I celebrate it’s uniqueness apart from Western Europe.
L’Viv’s own “Eiffel tower” on a mountain top, lit up and seen in the distance.
Larger than life, angel statues guard the city at night. After Istanbul, my spirit finds ease in this city. Here, I don’t have to hide my Christian beliefs; no need to cover my blonde hair; numerous churches beckon me to kneel and pray. Though gunfire rages to the east of this city, I feel safe and sheltered. The archangel Michael leads the charge!
Angels atop the Opera House in L’Viv.
Psalm 91:11, “For he will command his angels concerning you, to guard you in all your ways.”
