Night falls as I wait in the queue for the bus. The air raid siren sets off. I look around. No one even flinches. I zoom in on their faces, searching for signs of panic, but there is none.
This scene sums up life in today’s Kyiv. People have become numbed to the potential danger. It’s difficult to explain, but the quiet acceptance is palpable, and it leaves me feeling a bittersweet kind of sadness.
Over these past few weeks, I’ve learned to adapt to this state of numbness myself. Some days are louder than others. When I hear the familiar rumble, I pause, listening, but fear doesn’t take hold. In fact, just as I write this, there’s a sound outside - perhaps an explosion. I stop for a second, then simply continue typing.
“I’m more interested is finding ways to connect better with the people” - I think to myself.
In the midst of this, we’re taking tangible steps for safety. We’re building a bomb shelter at the base - yes three years into the war. We still need USD 14,000 to complete this project. If you feel led to support, please consider giving via the button below.
Despite the noise and the backdrop of uncertainty, I find myself living with profound gratitude for God’s unwavering love and grace. Each day is a testament to resilience and faith, and I’m continually reminded of the strength in community and the small moments of peace we cherish.