Unbreakable generosity in Ukraine

I went into a war zone willingly. I went

to give help and hope, and anything I could. At the same time, I received so much from such a short time, and got to witness what immense generosity looks like.

I had planned to use my off days when I was in Romania in May, to go to the border and help, but for safety we weren’t allowed. When I went back to Romania in the fall, a need arose from the Ukrainian pastor( *This blog will not contain names or locations of our Ukrainian friends for their protection) the Romanian church was connected to.

I wasn’t planning on accompanying this convoy until I heard that through a miscommunication, 50 children were expecting a team to come see them and they were so excited. The people going on the convoy had never done ministry with kids, and when I was told we were allowed to bring every child Christmas gifts, I knew I needed to go.

2 hours in we turned around. Our car had serious mechanical issues so we took it to the mechanic for a few hours. Back on the road, we realized we wouldn’t make the country’s curfew, and we had nowhere to stay. I was on the phone trying to coordinate with the Ukrainian pastor, and simultaneously find an Airbnb, without getting carsick (a FEAT If you’ve ever been in the car with me you know this is impressive). Nothing was working out, but God seriously blessed us with the driver that went with us.

His name is Ștefan and he was one of the coolest people I’ve ever met. He lives with his wife and son on a lavender farm, the sales of which support the only official safe house (founded by his incredible mother) for survivors of trafficking in Romania. This guy was legit. He started off by telling me and my friend Clayton(who went with us and then stayed on a few months later to build a refugee center in Ukraine) that we would be listening to worship and Joseph prince the entire way, cause that’s how he ran his days. I was thrilled. (Unimportant side note: he grew up in Australia so he speaks English with an Australian accent and Romanian with a Romanian one).

Cutest little Airbnb thing

We were nearing the border with no where to stay, until Ștefan remembered a friend of his that happened to have a Airbnb type set up attached to his family house nearby. It was one of the prettiest places I’ve stayed and the people were so welcoming.

Next morning we get back on the road headed for the border, we get stuck behind a line of cars and missed the first ferry. Then the border agent told us we couldn’t go through with the secondhand coats we were bringing. Ștefan called a friend who was a high ranking police officer( this guy apparently has a friend for everything), who called them. It was resolved, and they said we were free to go. By that they meant free to go and wait. We ended up staying at the border for 6 hrs. I was upset, knowing we would miss seeing the kids that day and wondering if this was even worthwhile.

Unloading some of the convoy

Once through I was struck by the spirit of the Ukrainian people. We stopped to fill up the car and received some strange looks since we were clearly foreigners choosing to enter a war zone. We went through several police check points and mostly they were just confused why we would take the time to come all the way into the country with supplies. They were happy to let us through though and so we continued.

I don't have photos of the potholed road, but you know those potholes that are so deep you apologize to your car after hitting one? It was a road full of those.

We got lost and ended up on the most potholed road I’d ever been on. For an hour we were bobbing up and down. The pastor called and asked where we were, I tried to explain and he said that at the end of that road the bridge was out. So we turned around. Same potholes, different angle.

This is where I really started to be struck by the immense generosity of these people.

The pastor arranged for someone to meet us on the main road to let us follow him. All the lights everywhere were out in a blackout and it was extremely quiet. We pull up to a man standing on the side of the road in front of his car, not another soul around. We ask if he knows the same pastor, he says yes, and speeds down roads that weren’t marked and we would never have found on our own. We were incredibly tired and incredibly grateful.

The driver passes us off to the pastor, who stood outside even though it was raining to greet us. We all hopped in again and followed the pastor. We arrived at his house and met his family who were all so kind.

The house was dark because of the blackout, except for flashlights, and the small generator plugged in to his son’s fish tank.

His wife had made us a delicious dinner, and we began to talk. I knew some of the atrocities of the war, I knew that even with aid being sent, the aid didn’t always trickle down to people who really needed it. I knew that the Ukrainian spirit was very strong and generous, but nothing would have prepared me to hear the ways this pastor and his family had served their community in the midst of massive fear and turmoil.

They tried to teach us the Ukrainian alphabet, I must say we did not pick it up well

They took in orphans, and had a daycare/after school/ feeding center that cared for them. They helped with a center that gave pregnant women who had no options, a place to live and raise their baby as well as learn skills to support themselves, and they ran a church.

Through the whole of the war, their church had been open to help. It was a refugee center, a makeshift soldier hospital, a feeding center, and a center of hope throughout the community. They talked about some of the atrocities, but focused more on how God had allowed them to be there as His hands and feet. They looked tired, worn out from the physical and emotional toil of meeting needs, but they were also some of the most deeply joyful people.

We all had a good laugh over this frog that came in an aid package (we all were questioning how this counts as aid hahah) that played John Denver songs.

They were interested in our stories, and we got to share what had brought us to that point. When we couldn’t keep our eyes open, we all were shown to beds. Since I was the only girl, they wanted to give me their room that had the most blankets. They were nervous about us being cold, because it was winter, without electricity and therefore without heat. They told us stories of people sleeping with their windows open so that if a bomb hit in the night, they wouldn’t be harmed by the flying glass. This left them open and susceptible to the freezing winter and is why they had needed generators to run heating.

I was overwhelmed. I felt I was offering very little and told them I was more than happy to sleep on the floor or a couch. They wouldn’t hear of it and willingly gave me everything they could, even their own bed to sleep in. I have no idea where they slept, but I will never forget the way that receiving that sacrificial generosity felt.

Eventually I had to receive their generosity, even though it was a struggle. I took a picture of this bed so that I would remember this huge gesture and never be ungrateful again.

The next day was filled with church and prayer, unloading the convoy items, and the pastor assuring me he would send me photos of the kids receiving their presents (he did, and they were precious). The congregants were also surprised that we would take a convoy all the way into the country and were thanking us for coming and helping. I wanted to tell them that the generosity I witnessed, not just of money or items, but the spirit to meet any need they were capable of, was so deeply impactful I felt the physical aid we had brought didn’t compare. I wanted to thank THEM. For how they had obeyed the Lord, for how they had served their community, for how they had cared for the widow and orphan.

The imcredible church we worshipped in

Eventually things wrapped up, we dropped Clayton off, and me and Ștefan started the long trek back. We got to have some really cool conversations about God on the way back, neither of us was really sure how to process the things we had seen and heard.

I will never forget the generosity that I was shown by the Ukrainian people. It is a true testament that even in some of the hardest trials, God is working, and He is our strength.

The beautiful countryside of Ukraine