A Tale From the Border: Reflections on Uncertain Border Crossings. Ukraine Stories 4/7

“Since the war started, I have crossed the border more than 70 times. It’s part of the Church of God’s efforts to deliver much-needed supplies, food and even toys to our Church of God friends in Ukraine. There are many things I have learned. The first being that delivering supplies, like the war itself, is complex.”

In the spring and summer of 2022, a single border crossing took between 2 and 5 hours (each way). Often the Ukrainian border was slammed with heavy queues of civilians trying to get out of Ukraine. And on the Hungarian side of things, it was slammed with heavy queues of humanitarian aid workers delivering food and other supplies into Ukraine.

Two years in, I count on a border crossing taking place in about 1 hour. Often it’s a bit longer, but no more than 2 hours. And very rarely it’s 40 minutes or so. The reality is that most Ukrainians who wanted to (and were legally able to) leave Ukraine…have done so. As with any border, there are numerable ‘locals’ who cross in one direction or the other regularly, to buy certain products, to visit family, etc. But regarding humanitarian aid delivery, I’m not saying we are the only organization still making deliveries…but it sure seems that way. At least at the border crossing we go to. New guards (on both sides) are always shocked when we tell them we are delivering humanitarian aid. And old guards (by which I mean ones who have been working that post for atleast several months) always recognize us upon arrival. I would not say that we have become friends, but they remember us. Recently one yelled in Ukrainian ‘The American is back!’

Even with such lighter traffic crossing the border, though, the variables remain.

Will they simply look at the papers, take a glance inside the vehicle and then give all the necessary stamps?

Will they ask a question about some particular product we are carrying? And will that question be because they are personally interested in walking away with that product?

Will they require some or all of the products to be physically unloaded from the van?

If so, will they simply take pictures? Or will they want to cut open sealed boxes and carefully examine what’s inside?

Will they be friendly and favorable towards us?

Or for one reason or another, will they scowl at us and (presumably) look for ways to make things more difficult for us?

Even when the van is empty, will a quick glance and examination with their security devices be sufficient?

Or will they require the van to park in a special place (picture the subterranean lairs of an oil change shop) for them to more thoroughly look at the undercarriage?

Will they require us to physically leave the van so that they can unleash a drug/bomb dog inside of it to sniff all its nooks and crannies?

Will the border itself be closed? And if so, will there be other borders to try to cross through? Sometimes this has happened because nation-wide (in Ukraine), the power has been down, or the cellular/wifi service has been down, or the border has simply been closed temporarily as every agent/guard is taking cover from potential/real missile strikes.

As you can imagine, even though we do nothing illegal, of course, each of these variables carries with it some measure of stress. Additionally each of these variables lengthens the time spent at the border, and thus, adds to the already long schedule for the day. And yes, each of the above scenarios have played out on numerous occasions.

Once in the spring of 2022, I was standing inside a customs office in Ukraine, waiting for our time with the officers to process our paperwork. There was a man standing nearby in the line, clearly a fellow American. We struck up a conversation. He was delivering supplies for some NGO that he was connected with. But for both of us, the process was the same. We heard loud stamps of documents on the other side of the closed door and we both perked up. That was a beautiful sound, as it meant things were moving along bureucratically and OUR TIME was getting closer. We laughed and drew a comparison to a popular meme that’s been around, for really all the jobs.

For us (delivering humanitarian aid), it would look like this:

WHAT MY MOM THINKS I DO:

A person driving a van through a literal warzone, with the vehicle’s glass broken out and fires to the left and right, and also we are bleeding a little.

WHAT MY FRIENDS THINK I DO:

Similar situation, but not quite as extreme. Maybe less fires…

WHAT I ACTUALLY DO:

Standing in an office, waiting for the sounds of papers being bureaucratically stamped. ;-)

During the spring and summer of 2022, I was driving vans for the Church of God, as well as a separate missions agency that was in need of drivers to deliver humanitarian aid to their partners. I would cross the border at least two times a week, sometimes more. At that time, it was necessary to constantly check the clock. Each day was a race against time. You never knew how long a border crossing would take. Each way (leaving Hungary and entering Ukraine, or leaving Ukraine and re-entering Hungary) would take 2-5 hours. So it was quite difficult to plan your day as there was a large window of time that was truly uncertain! If the border crossing went quicker than normal, that left time to get back to the store (before they closed for the day) and re-load the vans so that you could make a second delivery early the folllowing morning.

If the border crossing took longer than normal, that meant some down time that evening to have a sit-down meal, which was nice. BUT…it also meant the next day would be much longer as you would first have to drive to the store to re-load the van and then turn around and drive back to the border. This also, obviously, affected our return time to Budapest. So, family life was up in the air. Will we have dinner together, or will I return home quite late, long after Sofie’s bedtime?

On the 29th of July 2022, I was not driving. I was home. In Budapest. I don’t remember the details of that day entirely, but I took a nap in the afternoon. In my own bed. I awoke after a short time sleeping, and panicked. I instantly reached for my phone and saw that it read 15:06 local time (just after 3 pm). My heart started racing and I quickly sat up. “OMG!!! It’s 1506….okay…what time does Metro (like a European Costco) close today? Or no, did we already go there? I can’t remember… Okay, if we leave right now, what time will we get to the border? And then…?

Mind you, I was in my own bed. In my own home. I was not in a strange place. BUT my mind was so consumed with managing the details of these deliveries that I really panicked!!!

Even though we are generally far from the ‘war zone,’ and not in imminent danger, the stress and exhaustion of making deliveries can be overwhelming at times.

So what does a ‘a typical delivery’ look like? Well, there is no typical delivery, but generally it looks like this:

In the days before the trip, LOTS of messages, planning and coordinating the logistics of what we will deliver, preparing the customs documents, giving the van atleast a look-over to make sure there are no glaring issues, and arranging everything for the actual trip.

Then, the delivery day begins with departure from my home no later than 6 A.M. and drive to meet up with whoever from the Hungarian Church of God that will be accompanying me. [There are at least 10 people from our Hungarian Church of God who have accompanied me, 2 have been on dozens of trips each, 2 have been on 3-5 trips each; Beyond Hungary, there are about 15 regional Church of God people who have accompanied me on a trip].

After picking up the other passenger(s), we drive several hours to the border (about 3.5 hour drive, if all goes well with the vehicle and traffic). Along the way, we stop at a large warehouse to pick up whatever supplies we do not already have loaded into the van.

Then we continue to the border, where we pray for favor!!

EVERY border crossing is totally different.

Then we drive a few hours in Ukraine to our church partner.

After greeting them, we unload the van. Then we (usually) have coffee/tea or a meal while we have conversations. Our Ukrainian friends are incredibly hospitable!!!

Then we drive the few hours back to the border, once again pray for favor, and then drive the several hours home to Budapest. If I arrive to my home before 10 PM, I am overjoyed!!!

EVEN IF all goes well, it makes for quite an exhausting day.

Oh, at the border, we must also remember to scan the stamped customs form, for accountability and record-keeping, should the physical document be destroyed or lost.

There are many variables that affect the delivery. Here are some examples of the difficult variables to manage:

TIME. You are always monitoring the clock. People are waiting for you, and you try your very best to arrive close to the window of time you’ve indicated. Oftentimes, cellular service or wi-fi is unavailable or sporadic at best. So you try to be close enough to your time that the people will either not worry or will not wait unnecessarily.

LANGUAGE. You are trying to stay cognizant of any and all Hungarian words and phrases you know, as well as any and all Ukrainian words and phrases! At the border, on both sides, it’s a rarity if you interact with a border guard that (atleast voluntarily) speaks English. Sometimes you know that they understand more than they are letting on, but you may not hear any English spoken on either side. So, you are going through even just basic words, terms and greetings to both understand what you are hearing, as well as communicate in ways that they understand.

ROAD & VEHICLE. The nature of these deliveries of humanitarian aid require vehicles to be driven hard, for long periods of times, on roads of varying quality, by drivers with different driving styles, half the time hauling basically maximum weight. THIS puts great wear and tear on the vehicle. So, you are constantly monitoring the vehicle. Are there any lights on the dashboard that should ‘not’ be there? Is the engine temperature in the good range? Are there any strange sounds or feelings with driving the vehicle? What are the tire pressures? Are there ANY concerns that require addressing immediately, or at least before the next trip? Then, what is the fuel level like? And will there be reliable fuel down the road, or do you need to top off the fuel sooner rather than later? Additionally, once in Ukraine, GPS don’t work, so you drive by memory, or landmarks. Or reading the street signs (written in Ukrainian). If a road/bridge is closed or destroyed, you have to navigate a new way either by feel (this road seems like it could connect us to that road…) or by following the verbal instructions given (in Ukrainian) by a nice border guard.

RELATIONSHIPS & COMMUNICATION. No matter the time of day, there are some people with whom you need to communicate. You need to give them an updated ETA, or let them know that all is well, or that the payment they sent went through. There are names and faces of people that you only see when making these deliveries. You try your very best to remember their name (sometimes this is NOT a normal name for an English speaker), and to remember details of their life situation. Was it their daughter that had been so terribly ill, or was that a prayer request they sent on behalf of someone else?? Additionally, you need to communicate with your church community in Budapest (and beyond) who are praying for the day’s events.

As you can surely imagine, there are many tales that I could share that carry some level of humor, or some level of divine favor/protection.

To close, I will simply tell this one.

In December 2022, a comedy of errors occurred. EVERYTHING that could go wrong, went wrong. This resulted in us not arriving to the border until 7 PM (despite leaving Budapest at 9 AM). The van was loaded to capacity with supplies, including szaloncukors (traditional Hungarian Christmas Candies). These are individually-wrapped gummy candies, coated in chocolate. A normal-sized adult hand could probably hold three of them in the palm. To bless our Ukrainian friends, we were bringing 20 kilograms (about 45 pounds) of these candies, in two unsealed cardboard boxes.

As we drove, one of them slid on top of the other supplies and shifted towards the back door. Of course, we did not realize this…

AT THE BORDER, the old Hungarian guard greeted us and was speaking to the Hungarian Church of God person with me. He apparently asked them to open the back doors, which they did. And as I got to the back of the van, holding the passports to give him, I heard a truly unusual sound. I had no idea what I was hearing, until I saw a waterfall of candies pouring out of the van onto the pavement below. There were so many of them, it literally took 30 seconds for them to finish cascading to the ground. In absolute shock at this sight, I looked at the speechless guard. Then I conjured up my very best Hungarian to say to him “Boldog Karácsonyt” (Merry Christmas). In slap-happy laughter, we got down on the ground and picked up these hundreds of (wrapped) candies, while he processed our passports and probably prayed for us to leave quickly, before anything else fell out of the van.

If you would like to give towards the Humanitarian Aid relief work, please click on this LINK and give to the Church of God Disaster Relief project, earmarked ‘Ukraine.’

As with all these stories, names and specific locations are altered or withheld for security purposes.

A Tale from the West: One Pastor’s Life in Chaotic Times. Ukraine Stories 3/7

Trigger Warning: While not very descriptive, this blog contains references to: Air Raid Sirens, War, Rape

“Sometimes we can look at what’s happening and only describe it with one sentence: It seems that the Devil’s arms are untied.” -Martin

Martin is a man I’ve gotten to know quite well over the past two years. A Baptist minister, he is a father to two sweet little kids (5 and under). Martin has been instrumental in spreading the Gospel in word and deed, despite the war that has raged on.

I’ve sat with Martin over many meals or cups of tea/coffee, where he’s updated us on the harsh realities that he and ‘his people’ endure. In contrast, when I bid him adieu, I return to my home in Budapest where life is normal in all its ways (reliable wifi, consistent electric, take-out/delivery food services, you know, ‘normal life’ in the modern world).

What Martin shares, though, stays with me.

How do you make sense of it all? So many things that are not propaganda, that are not exaggerations, but are the lived reality of so many people. I pray that these are things that nobody in my family ever has to endure.

Most recently, Martin shared what he heard from a military chaplain, someone on the front lines, ministering to wounded people of all types (soldiers and civilians).

I know that Chaplaincy work is gritty and raw, providing access to real people and real situations. As a ‘man/woman of God,’ you are invited/welcomed into their lives when their lives may be hanging in the balance. You are given the opportunity to hear their unfiltered thoughts/longings (sometimes spoken on a deathbed, almost always spoken through palpable levels of pain). And you are given the opportunity to encourage them towards Hope in a Loving God, no matter their situation.

Martin shared what his chaplain friend told him: how he has offered counseling for so many men, women and children. People who have experienced all manner of torture and rape…

Let me ask you something. Do you believe the victims?

“Sometimes we can look at what’s happening and only describe it with one sentence: It seems that the Devil’s arms are untied.”

This was what Martin said after a moment of silence, and before many more moments of silence.

When you attempt to realize the destruction that has occurred and is still occurring, words fail you.

So much devastation has occurred in the previous two years. Really, so much!

I saw recently a two-year anniversary post (on 02 April 2024) about the liberation of Bucha (a town near Kyiv). When Bucha was liberated a little over a month after the invasion began, 9,000 cases of war crimes were documented. Nine thousand!! In one town. Which had been occupied for only one month…

Multiply that across a nation about as large as the state of Texas. Multiply that over two years time (and counting).

It is unimaginable the pain and trauma that has been endured. Even for ones geographically distant from the routine bombings and invasion… Even for ones physically sheltered (so far) from the loss of life and limb…

…There is the incessant psychological trauma.

What does it do to a person to hear air-raid sirens every day?

What does it do to a person to hear regular accounts of destroyed towns?

What does it do to a person to discover names every day of people you’ll never see again?

Video LINK of Air Raid Siren from a recent delivery of humanitarian aid.

Martin wrestles with the psychological trauma of his nation. He wonders how they will ever recover, once the war comes to an end.

There is so much that so many have experienced that so many of the rest of us truly cannot fathom (thankfully!!).

One way we can all offer hope is through helping to provide humanitarian aid. Here is a link to the Church of God Disaster Relief fund. Money given there, earmarked ‘Ukraine’ will go towards providing food and medicine to people in more need than hopefully any of us reading this ever will be. I will personally load the products into our church van and deliver them to Martin in Ukraine. Martin has proven himself to be a man of deep integrity, a man of deep humility, and a man of intense unshakeable faith.

Link: https://www.jesusisthesubject.org/disaster-relief-and-restoration/

Martin is in a position similar to mine. He is far removed from the daily bombardments. However, he is much more closely involved in providing help than we are. He is the next link in the chain. He receives the humanitarian aid sent by the Church of God. And he sends it on to places where it is needed. For reference, check out THIS LINK TO AN EARLIER BLOG.

Further, though, Martin is much more closely involved in that he is Ukrainian. He speaks the Ukrainain language, as well as Russian. He has personal connections and relationships with so many men and women that I’ll never know.

In contrast, I have a personal connection and relationship only with Martin. What little information and few stories I receive is filtered through him.

Meanwhile, he has heard an infinite number of stories. I cannot imagine how he stays sane, as the few stories I hear are overwhelming and exhausting enough.

Additionally, through all the stress and tension, Martin has his own personal stress and tension.

See, Martin is a prime candidate for military conscription.

He’s a young able-bodied Ukrainian man. Until now, Martin has been exempt from military service on the basis of his work delivering Humanitarian Aid, passing along what we deliver to him!

Even with this exemption, Martin does not leave his home without his children being in the car with him. He knows that even with exemptions, desperate times call for desperate measures and he could be stopped at one of the multiple military checkpoints that spring up all over the place. His children don’t necessarily prevent him from being conscripted, but they do prevent him from being immediately conscripted (If he were alone in the car, the car could be taken off the road, or left on the side of the road. But not with small children.).

Recently, Martin told me that they don’t make plans anymore beyond the next day or two. ‘We don’t make plans because we don’t have any idea what the situation will be. Will we be alive still? Will we have more people living with us that we need to care for? Will our town be reeling from missile strikes?’

As the war continues, please pray for PEACE.

Please pray for an end to all this suffering and destruction.

Please pray for all who have lost a loved one.

Please pray for all families separated because of fleeing and/or military conscription.

Please pray for all who are forced to live day-to-day, not knowing what tomorrow may hold.

Please join us in praying for Martin and so many like him, who tirelessly work to bring help and HOPE, despite all the incessant stress and uncertainty.

Also, please consider making a donation to the Church of God Disaster Relief fund, earmarked ‘Ukraine.’ Here is the link:

https://www.jesusisthesubject.org/disaster-relief-and-restoration/

The Ukrainian Church: Hope through Adversity

Over the past twenty-one months as the war has waged on in Ukraine, the Three Worlds team has sought ways to encourage and support our Ukrainian Church of God contacts – those who are still in Ukraine, many of whom are internally displaced, as well as those who have fled Ukraine and have needed to reestablish themselves and their families in a country not their own.

One of those close contacts is Pastor Stepan. The Three Worlds team first connected with Stepan and his family when they attended the Three Worlds Leadership Network (3WLN) event in its earliest years, and immediately ministry connections were made. Stepan was scheduled to lead a session at the 3WLN event in 2020 until it was canceled due to the pandemic. At that time, plans were also just beginning to formalize for EuropeX, a church-planting network, and Stepan was set to be a part of this as well.

As a Church of God pastor in Ukraine, Stepan was leading a young and growing church. Building upon their momentum, the church had a number of young people with aspirations to serve and impact their local community in a variety of unique ways. 

In addition to leading the local congregation, Stepan helped lead a network of pastors and leaders in ten other congregations throughout Ukraine. Together, these pastors had dreams to plant more churches, impact more families, and point more people to Jesus. Then, on February 24, 2022, Ukraine was attacked.

While there was a tremendous amount of uncertainty, the Ukrainian Church of God immediately jumped into action, housing displaced people, sharing whatever essential supplies they could provide, establishing and coordinating a relief supply chain that stretched across the country, ministering to others who had lost so much, and always pointing people to Jesus.

Pastor Stepan and his family faithfully served in this capacity in their home church for many months, until they finally had to make the difficult decision to leave Ukraine. Stepan’s wife was pregnant, they had two young boys, and their parents were dealing with physical ailments that required attention.

Knowing other young leaders were ready to step in and lead the church and local relief efforts well, Stepan and his family received their paperwork allowing them to leave Ukraine, and they made their way to southern Germany. Upon arriving, Pastor Stepan saw an opportunity to gather other Ukrainians having experienced the same atrocities as he and his family. In the following months, with the help of local German Church of God leaders, a new church was planted in Calw, Germany.  

Stepan and his family were only a handful of the 2000+ Ukrainians who arrived in Calw. They were able to connect with several hundred Ukrainians, as word spread that there was a church being led by people who fully understood the horrors they had experienced. 

Today, the church operates weekly programs with Sunday worship services, youth group meetings, bible study classes, and more. Eighteen people have been baptized in the last year, and many Ukrainian Orthodox believers have shared that they have experienced the love and compassion of Jesus for the first time through the church in Calw.

Our Three Worlds team is thankful for the opportunities we have been given to walk alongside Pastor Stepan through this experience. Most recently, in partnership with the German Church of God and the Global Strategy/Church of God Ministries – Anderson, the team was able to help coordinate the funding of a stipend that will allow Stepan to continue focusing on ministry. The German government requires those seeking refugee status to obtain a work contract within a certain timeframe. The stipend provided through this joint effort has allowed Stepan to meet this requirement and continue in full-time ministry.

 We praise God for the continued ministry of Pastor Stepan and his family. Having experienced the devastating impact of the war firsthand, they have in turn been instrumental in welcoming and walking alongside many refugees experiencing the same.  

A Tale from the East: One Pastor’s commitment to ‘feed his flock.’ Ukraine Stories 2/7

For Pastor Appreciation Month, this article is in honor of Ukrainian pastors, all of whom have been faced with an insanely difficult year.

I know many Ukrainian pastors who decided to flee Ukraine this year. Many of them fled to neighboring countries (Hungary, Poland, Germany, et. al.). They did what is best for their families, to keep their wives and young children safe from harm’s way.

I know many Ukrainian pastors who have chosen to stay put and keep on keeping on.

I also know many Ukrainian pastors who have fled their homes, but have chosen (sometimes out of legal obligation…) to stay within the borders of Ukraine.

ALL OF THEM have wrestled with questions no pastor should have to wrestle with.

It is easy to pass judgment one way or another, but until you are in their shoes…

until the spotlight is directly on you and your family…

What would you do?

What should you do?

What does God want you to do???

I want to tell you the story of one man whom I have been privileged to meet on a few occasions this year.

He was a pastor in Donetsk. Until 2014, when Russia invaded that region of Ukraine and annexed Crimea. (By the way, “annexation” looks strangely like what my ancestors did to ‘The New World,’ despite it being properly inhabited already.)

In 2014, he and his wife fled their home in Donetsk. They moved to a lovely seaside town, safely removed from the hotspots. Perhaps you’ve heard of it: Mariupol.

It’s the same city that the Russian military has all but wiped off the map in 2022.

This time (Spring 2022), the pastor (whom I’ll call ‘Sasha’) and his wife fled farther from their homes, seeking shelter with family in western Ukraine (near the border with Poland).

When they fled westward, they invited any of their congregants to join them, promising to care for their basic needs and help find them a place to stay until it became safe to return ‘home.’ Some chose to take them up on this offer and they joined their caravan heading westward. Some chose to stay behind, knowing that it would not be easy to do so. But how could they leave their home? How could they leave their property and possessions? And if they did leave, what would that even look like? Where would they go??

In June of this year, I sat down with Pastor Sasha and listened for the better part of an hour as he shared his experiences from the previous several months. See, even though he and his wife fled to safety in western Ukraine, he has continued to go back to the East every month. Why, you ask?? Let’s hear it from him directly:

“We are from Donetsk. We left Donetsk in 2014 when the war started. We were ministering there in the church. I was the pastor there, there were two of us. So our ministry at that time, when we left, we started ministering at the front line. We planted two churches there. So that’s how we started the church there. There were people who just started attending the church there.

And now, we are responsible for that. We care for them. We cannot get right to Donetsk, because we can even not pass or give something to them. It’s not allowed. And these territories, it’s still the territory of Ukraine.

Even it’s dangerous there, but we go there. Just to see people and hug people, to pray with them. They appreciate that, the care we bring. And of course, some food, some pills or medicine, some treatment. And those that are willing we evacuate from there. This is the trip we had recently, the last one.”

As he spoke of the danger he routinely faces traveling into war-torn neighborhoods, I found myself wondering “what would I do???”

What would I do if I were an Ukrainian pastor? How would I respond to all this devastation?

Would my family stay in our home? Or would we flee to safety? And if we stayed, what would my life look like? What would my ministry look like?

I remember fondly my time serving as a pastor in Indiana. The joys of pastoral ministry involve leading one’s staff (usually mostly volunteer-based), leading the regular worship services, teaching/preaching, and visiting one’s congregants (especially the sick and elderly).

I remember one dear old widow whom I would regularly visit. Those visits were so nice. She was such a sweet faithful lady. My visits would begin with getting a can of Pepsi from her fridge, before I would walk into her living room where she would be sitting.

Even if I didn’t want a Pepsi, I learned to take one. Or else inevitably a moment later I would see her struggle to get up and go to the fridge to get one for me.

Those visits would be relaxing as we shared stories and just enjoyed fellowship, before we prayed and I went on to my next appointment.

IN STARK CONTRAST TO THAT, I listened to Pastor Sasha’s recent visits to such a lady from his congregation. Before we take a look at that conversation, I should preface things by saying that, at this point in our conversation he pulled out a large plastic Pepsi cup and dumped its contents onto the table between us.  Suddenly the space between us is consumed by a lot of shards of metal.

Daniel: Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh…

Pastor Sasha: …This is specific bomb material because before when the bomb was exploded, it was not sharp. But now they make it out of some metal which is very sharp so it will just cut wherever it goes.

Daniel: Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh….That’s insane…Where did you get this???

Pastor Sasha: Just when i went there, i was visiting an old lady, a grandma, I opened the gate and right near the gate was this part and also that one, and I was picking it up, and she was like ‘oh I’ve got lots of them, my son…’

Daniel: …Oh my gosh, oh my gosh…

Pastor Sasha: This one is from near the church territory. In Donetsk area. Front line.

Daniel: Unbelievable. Can I take a picture of it?

How do you pastor people whose lives are literally in jeopardy every day?

How do you pastor people whose thoughts are consumed by such fundamental questions as:

Should I stay in my home, or flee to some other geographic location?

Will I die today?

Will someone I know and love die today?

I found myself selfishly wondering if I will one day wrestle with PTSD just from listening to Pastor Sasha’s experiences…

In this conversation, he shared stories from his own experience. And he shared stories from the experiences of his colleagues and of his congregants. He spoke of young men being called up into military service, who have since died. He spoke of older men volunteering for military service, who have since died. He spoke of men whom it is unclear what happened to them. He spoke of handicapped people from his congregation who are unable to move freely on their own. He has evacuated many of them from their homes and taken them to safety. But then the next struggle begins: Where is a safe, available, and also handicapped-accessible place for them to stay for an undetermined amount of time???

How do you shepherd people in a time of war??

How do you provide for their spiritual well-being while yours is undoubtedly also being massively challenged, to put it lightly?

How do you provide for their physical well-being while you yourself are living in temporary housing, provided by a friend, a family or a church connection?

These are all questions I have never been forced to even consider.

Pastoral ministry requires a wide range of skills and a wide knowledge base. While one does not have to be an expert in many fields, it certainly helps to know a little about a variety of things. It is basically necessary to also have a lot of connections: people whom you can turn to for advice, information, assistance with things out of your ‘wheelhouse.’ See, no one person can do it all. We need others. This is true on a ministerial level. This is also true on a lay-level.

Pastor Sasha: “But one positive thing out of this war… the war united even Christians and nonbelievers. When this war started, all the people were volunteering, ah…it doesn’t matter the denomination now, everybody is just mixed together, helping together, serving and ministering in different locations, so this is also shuffled us, which is good. Before, all the denominations were so separate, they never, like very rarely they do something together and they, yeah when everything was good everybody was just by themselves. And now it doesn’t matter who you are.”

Sasha’s Wife: “It was so obvious, you just go on the way, like because of the traffic jams were terrible, and so we just stopped in different churches. And it doesn’t matter which church, you just stop. They have mattresses, they accept you, they feed you. And then you go next, and then you go next, and lots of people, rotations. Because we were on the way for three, little bit more than three days, because the roads were stopped…”

This is the story of just one Pastor. There are many similar stories. As Pastor Appreciation Month draws to a close, I invite you to join me in praying not only for your local pastors. But also pray for all the pastors in Ukraine. And Russia! And pray for all those who had been serving in one of those countries, but are currently located elsewhere.

In addition to prayer, I would invite you to consider giving to the Church of God Disaster Relief fund. This fund has helped provide resources to care for the ongoing needs of those whose lives have been greatly affected by the war in Ukraine. Please click on THIS LINK and write ‘Ukraine’ in the comments.

https://www.jesusisthesubject.org/disaster-relief-and-restoration/