I just spent two days in Kiev, Ukraine. I wasn’t planning on spending two days
in Kiev. Actually, when I left
Odessa on Sunday evening, I was hoping to arrive in Kiev the next day to catch
a train to Bucharest without ever leaving the train station.
I knew there had been flooding in Western Ukraine that had
knocked out some track, but I was hoping that had all been taken care of.
I arrived in Kiev on Tuesday morning. I got off the train and began to track
down the proper ticket window for international sales. I walked up to the window and asked the
woman if she spoke any English.
She looked exasperated and said “A leetle.” I said “I need to go to
Bucharest.” She got very
upset. She began to wave her arms
and say “no, no, no” in Russian.
It seemed the tracks had not yet been repaired.
I got to a hostel and told the manager that hopefully I
would be there for just one night.
The next morning I woke up and asked one of the hostel workers, Maxim,
to go with me to the train station as my translator.
The woman at the information desk said something to the
effect of “Of course we are selling tickets to Bucharest”. I asked Max to confirm. He asked again and translated back to
me “She says they are selling tickets to Bucharest.” Then we looked at the big board of trains leaving that day
and saw no listing for a train to Bucharest.
I wasn’t confident.
I got on the metro and then walked two blocks back to the
hostel in the pouring rain.
I was dejected.
I booked another night at the hostel. I heard lots of different ways to get
to Bucharest from the other travelers and from the hostel manager. I heard I could train to Chernivtsi and
take a bus from there. I also
heard that a bus through Moldova, by the manager’s estimation, meant a 70%
chance of getting robbed. I
decided not to bus through Moldova.
I spoke to several people that second day in Kiev
(Tuesday). I spoke with Jenny
Brown, my co-leader for the June 2010 O-Squad, and I spoke with some of our
leadership within the World Race.
I spoke to a couple friends from my original World Race squad and I
spoke to some of the team leaders from this current World Race squad. I told all of them that I was expecting
a miracle.
I worried about how I would get to Bucharest. I worried about how the other 40 World
Racers in Ukraine would get to Bucharest only a couple days after me. I worried if they would get lost or
confused in this country where it always seems as though nobody speaks English.
I wanted God to intervene. I needed God to intervene.
I kept wondering what or how else I should pray to make sure
God knew I really wanted him to make a way for me. I wanted God to make a way for me to get from Kiev to
Bucharest by train so I wouldn’t have to navigate my way in a Russian speaking,
former communist, city to find my own way. I expected nothing short of a miracle.
Tuesday night I asked for prayer support via my Facebook
status. In no time I had 8
comments from folks all saying they were on their knees.
So I wake up on Wednesday. I pack all my stuff and get ready for a possibly long
day. I leave the hostel again with
a rough idea of where the central bus station is, in case I need to make my way
there after the train station.
I again find the international ticket sales window. I walk up and the attendant is the same
woman who so vigorously waved me off two days earlier. I say “I need to go to Bucharest.” She says “When? Today?” I get a little nervous and say
“Yes.” She starts tick-tacking
away on the computer to calculate the price. She shows me the price. I can hardly believe it. I say I need to go to the ATM. She says I have to give her my passport first. I do. Then I get the cash to buy my ticket.
I’m sure if I spoke Russian someone could give me a
perfectly rational explanation as to why I was able to buy a ticket today. Maybe it took no divine intervention
whatsoever to get me on a train from Kiev to Bucharest. But for two days I was saying that if I
could get on a train to Bucharest it would be a miracle. I was calling on God to make it
happen. So why, when it actually
happened, would I give anyone or anything else the glory for my fortune.
Sometimes I think we are afraid to claim a miracle because
we figure we may have to defend our conviction. We’re afraid someone will offer a more rational explanation
than “God did it,” and we’ll look foolish. Well, darn it, I figure God can defend himself. On Sundays I sing all about how “all
good gifts come from above”, so why not the good gift of a train ride from Kiev
to Bucharest.
When’s the last time you saw a miracle in your life? Did you claim it for God? When was the last time you saw the
Lord’s blessing in your life? When
you woke up and kissed your wife?
When you were cooking breakfast and your beautiful little daughter
smiled and thanked you? Did you
thank God in that moment? Did you
honor God as the giver of all good gifts?
For all those who prayed with me this week I thank you. God heard the cries of his people and
he answered. Now together let us
“Praise God from whom all blessings flow!”
