The one thing that keeps me going
How to continue fighting and not give up, and a new poem.
This week, the news from Ukraine was utterly devastating and alarming, full of destruction and grief. I think the majority of people in other countries got used to the fact that Ukraine is at war, and such news doesn't touch them anymore. For Ukrainians and their families, every Russian strike, every life lost, every inch of soil occupied hurt as much as it hurt at the beginning of the invasion and probably even more. The hope that we all had in 2022 changed to disappointment and bitterness by 2024. Too many lives were lost. Too many promises from the allies turned out to be empty. Too many chances were given to Russians, and too little punishment. Yet, no matter how much it hurts, we can’t give up. I don’t know how long the war will last. History shows that Russian bloodthirstiness is endless, as well as ignorance, cowardice, and greed of the world’s leaders. I want to believe that our determination to not let evil win is endless, too.
How can we continue fighting when we often feel powerless to change anything? How long can we keep going when we don’t see immediate results of our actions or see them being set back? How can we protect our hearts from breaking completely? These questions may seem rhetorical, but it is important that all of us find answers to them. When I think about it, I have so many reasons why I keep fighting and speaking up, but if I narrow them to one word, this word is love. Love for Ukraine, my family, and my husband. Love for justice, peace, and life. This love takes different forms and shapes: activism and initiative, grief and rage, hope and faith. I would like to hear what helps you to keep going. Please share with me in the comments.
I will finish with a poem I wrote last month that I dedicated to my husband.
My Ukrainian husband Early morning. My husband is going to work. I’m still lying in bed, trying to get 5 more minutes of sleep. The sun shines through the window, but something is off. I blame my anxiety, and chase away the feeling of dread. My husband blows me kisses from the doorway, and we laugh. I make a silly joke, he smiles, and wishes me a good day. At breakfast, clueless, I open the news: Russians bombed the largest children’s hospital in Ukraine. My husband didn’t want me to worry and to be upset. He knew I would find out later but chose to give me a few more hours of peace. He didn’t show the pain he carried, and instead, he said: I love you. I’ll be home by six. He tries to protect me. I try to protect him. We take the hits in turn to protect each other’s hearts. Life continues to bombard us with endless grief and pain. The only shield we have is our love.
This week, I shared a new post in the monthly series of family recipes from Eastern Europe. If you missed it, you can view it here:
Warmly,
Darya
Email: daryazorka@substack.com
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I think my one word is justice. I have no familial ties to Ukraine and no emotional ones before the war started. Actually, before the first photos were released from Mariupol. I knew it was wrong and that russia was prosecuting an illegal war of imperial aggression and I wasn't surprised when genocide evidence started appearing.
I'm here because it's the right thing to do. Because my faith demands I fight for justice and stand up for the oppressed. My faith won't let me be silent. God keeps leading me deeper into the work and doing more and I'll keep saying yes as long as he leads. Because he's a God of justice who punishes evil. My own pastor disagrees with me on on principle in some of my advocacy work, but it's personal. He has no doubts whatsoever I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, doing exactly what I'm supposed to do right now. I respect his position as well because it's consistent and in no way related to kremlin propaganda.
I refuse to sit back and let evil run rampant. Because justice matters.
With love like this, there’s no way evil will win.