We stood there in the garden of Pastor Alexi, staring at his
assortment of crops. It was very cool out, and I had forgotten my jacket, and
indeed it didn’t appear that any sunlight would break through. Maxim and Alexi now carried about in Russian,
and every now and then we were offered a loose translation by Maxim. “These,
farm lands. Alexi left Odessa and live here now.�
I internally groaned. Could our communication issues be get
any worse? At least Maxim spoke broken English, but it appeared that Alexi
spoke none at all.
It was then, like a ray of sunlight, that we heard an
uncertain voice behind us.
“Hello. I am your translator.�
We all turned and looked, to see a young girl, about
nineteen, wearing a black and white striped sweater, (as stripes are hot in the
Ukraine.) She had expressive green eyes and a very pleasant face. She smiled,
and her smile was unconfident.
“My name is Lydia, and my English isn’t very good, but I
will try to translate for you.�
I know I sighed a breath of relief right there, as I have
come to learn that anyone who can tell you that their English “isn’t very
good,� in English, usually underestimate themselves and their knowledge. I know
for a FACT that translators definitely underestimate their usefulness.
Thus began the first glimpses of hope in our five day
excursion. The sun had finally broken through the clouds, as we were quickly escorted
to Alexi’s church building, where we would be staying.
In that two minute drive, I believe that my eyes had never
before beheld so many gorgeous colors. Sure, the vast majority of the fields
were green, but all of the houses, cars, flowers, and even clothes were so
brightly colored that one could have assumed a rainbow had come to life and
settled in this place. The backdrop of grey clouds only exaggerated the
prismatic character of this place.
Slowly, the hearts of my teammates and I slowly turned, as
we knew that anywhere this colorful surely couldn’t be as nightmarish as we had
first come to believe.
Indeed, the worst part of this place was the toilet, and
that should be expected in many of our World Race ministry places. We slept on
the floor of the cute, small, one story church building, and this place was so
small, that we spent most of our time outside in the field. We were serenaded
by roosters all day, had our very own apple tree to provide us with snacks, and
even had a family dog named Spanky, who kept us company and guarded the church
from stray cats who would come and steal our garbage.
The people in the village itself proved quickly to have warm
hearts despite their rough exteriors. As Lydia’s boyfriend put it best:
“Ukrainians are like watermelons. It is hard to get through the rind, but on
the inside, they are soft and sweet.� Nearly every night we sat, sang, and
conversed over a campfire, sharing stories and trading experiences. We found
out that Pastor Alexi had been an alcoholic, and nearly lost everything before
he repented and came to Christ. He turned out to be a wise and gentle man,
nothing like the “Warden� I had previously judged him as. Perhaps the biggest
surprise to me, was Lydia’s father, (whom I believe is named Shtolic,) had been
a soldier in the Soviet army when it was still a part of the USSR.
I was so amazed. As a child growing up in the 80’s, I was
quite used to stories of “Mother Russia� and became quite familiar with terms
such as “Cold War,� and “The Iron Curtain.� All I had been told, was how Russia
was our enemy. They had nuclear weapons. They were a superpower and to be
feared. And now, here I was, sharing sausage over a campfire with an ex Soviet
Officer, who is now my brother in Christ.
Can there be any more of a testimony to who God is? If He
can bring mortal enemies together in true community and love, is there anything
he can’t do?
We quickly fell in love with “Red Flag Village,� as we were
told what it was called. This humble church, of about five families, had left
the city life of Odessa to live here, in the middle of nowhere Ukraine, to
serve these people who had probably been forgotten about. Every day we
ministered to the church, cleaning up the grounds and teaching English to the
children of the village, who had come to see the “Americans.�
Alexi had shared with us that his church had been praying
the week before for people to come and share their life stories with them, and
to help do some medial tasks that they couldn’t accomplish because of health problems
and other issues. Then Maxim had called him and told him about us “Americans,�
and so we had become an answer to their prayers.
Us. The ones who so begrudgingly came to this village,
terrified of how we were going to hate it, WE were an answer to THEIR prayers.
How much more humility can one digest?
Indeed, we did become quite attached to the land of Milk and
Honey, (which isn’t a joke, as we were given homemade honey from a church
member, and fresh milk and eggs from the neighbor next door to the church. Her
name is Anna, and though she and her husband aren’t believers, Alexi believes
they hear the message every Sunday as it is broadcast to the entire village
through very large speakers. Please pray for Anna and her husband to come to
know Christ.) The people and their rainbow of personalities quickly etched
themselves in our hearts, and we, who had been reluctant to come to this place,
found it nearly as hard to leave.
One of the girls in the village, Ula, asked us if we would
ever be coming back. We looked at one another and shuddered at the thought of
having to say no, but knowing we couldn’t make any promises to say yes.
So we drove away from Red Flag Village, back past the fields
of green and through the fields of eternal sunflowers. Yet something had
changed inside us, as my team surely had to learn a great deal of humility,
knowing that if God can turn our hearts this quickly, in only five days, what
will happen when we stay in one place for a month?
Even now, I smile, as I think of how that village broadened
my perspective of God and his power to change, and I realize that even if I
never see those people again, they will meet me in heaven, and miscommunication
will never again be an issue.
