Ukraine. My Christmas Update

Here in Ukraine, we sometimes lose electricity for a long time, and as the winter settles, the days are freezing cold. Some nights, I sleep with a bulletproof vest donated by Canada. I am glad I can put my tax money to good use.  

In general, the social-emotional state here in Ukraine is at the very lowest point I have ever seen since this war started 1,000 days ago.  The current political landscape in North America, the intervention of North Korea with soldiers and 152mm ammunition, the constant attacks on primarily civilian facilities with Iranian drones, the introduction of thermobaric weapons, the continuous siege on electric facilities, and the recent territorial gains of Russia have created great discouragement in most Ukraine. I have been on five mission trips in Ukraine, and I have seen the many ups and downs of this war, primarily ups despite the destruction and the many soldiers and civilians killed.  Being in Ukraine during this time of defeat is incredibly disheartening.

I am now in the North lines. I have offered to assist in the evacuation of civilians living in an area that the Russian army may soon overrun. Tonight, a young soldier returned to our shelter.  His name is Max.  A mortar hit his vehicle.  One man died, and the other two were seriously injured. They are now at the hospital.  Max has some lacerations but is OK.  However, he is in a state of shock.  He is only 20 years old.

I see in the news the significant losses in equipment and personnel the Russian army suffers daily. I trust the news because I have direct contact with them here. Despite the incredible losses the Russian military is going through, they keep going strong. Russia is now making considerable efforts to gain more Ukrainian territory because it wants to negotiate peace, and I have the feeling the political changes in the US have a lot to do with it. All the territorial gains Russia makes are resulting in horrendous costs to lives; however, human lives are disposable with totalitarian regimes. This last effort the leaders of Russia are making for territorial gain may be because they are aware that they are fighting for their political survival. Once peace is settled, the leaders of Russia may be able to claim that the tremendous cost of this war was worth it. At this rate, if this war continues until next spring, 1.2 million soldiers will have lost their lives or become wounded, and the great majority of them will be Russian soldiers. Nobody wins a war.

Kyiv. The day I arrived in this city, I was invited to participate in the memorial for four fallen soldiers. Two of them were Americans and one Canadian. It was hard to spend time with a small number of very tough-looking soldiers, all of them broken down by their loss. I remember the day when we came across at least 12 dead civilians hit by a rocket; one of the medics sat down in a fetal position and cried for at least 15 minutes. It reminded me of a day after an earthquake in Costa Rica when we searched for a mother and her two babies in a landslide. We finally found them. After searching for three days, we found the dead mother still holding her two babies. She had died holding her two babies, trying to escape the landslide. We all cried for a long time. Once in Washington, DC, I attended a memorial ceremony for the soldiers fallen during the Vietnam War. I will never forget hanging around with at least 200 tough-looking veterans who were holding each other and crying for their fallen comrades. I conclude. God has also given men a tender heart. Only men are somewhat good at hiding pain.

Costa Rica. Six weeks after my heart attack and my surgical procedure. I was given the green light to travel. My energy had returned, and I felt I had been given another chance. One of the doctors said something like this. "You were admitted with critical heart failure; your coronary arteries were severely blocked, yet you suffered negligible heart damage. God must want you around to continue to do good..." That very same afternoon, I ran to purchase plane tickets to travel to South America, Europe and Ukraine.  

Venezuela. Primarily from people from our ministry ranks, the prison ministry has suffered constant opposition; nevertheless, it became one of the largest prison ministries in South America. I have temporarily suspended my support for this ministry for several reasons until I evaluate and pray for a better strategy. Two months ago, the director of the ministry was imprisoned three times, and the last time he spent three weeks in prison, he was tortured and suffered severe damage to his colon. Still, fortunately, we were able to support his surgery and recovery. He is slowly returning to prison ministry. 

Peru. I started visiting Peru when I was in charge of supervising development projects in the Andes mountains. I fell in love with those mountains and the Inca cultural heritage. I have done at least five hikes through those mountains, and every time I go, I try a new hiking path. The Andes are at very high altitudes, making it hard for inexperienced hikers. Last summer, I went on a hike on the Bolivian side. I had a terrible time hiking since I had difficulty breathing; by that time, I was not aware of my heart condition, and I thought it was altitude sickness. This year, I did the same hike at the same altitude on the Peruvian side. It was a real blessing to realize that my heart surgery had given me a new opportunity in life. God is good to me. In Peru, I like to take solo hikes in isolated mountains, and I always find ancient Inca sites that have yet to be explored. On my last day of hiking, I was returning to Cuzco. I had only met a few people along the hike, and on the way down, I encountered an Inca man sitting down. He asked for water, and we started talking. He is a teacher in an isolated village up in the mountains. When the pandemic came, many adult villagers in his town died of COVID-19, including the parents of 40 of his students. He had no option but to shelter them in the school, now an orphanage. He supported them with municipal donations but was discouraged today because the city council had denied him assistance. Then, he showed me various papers and pictures to confirm his story. I believed his story, and he seemed to be an honest man. I reached for my wallet and gave him my last cash, hoping I would find a bank willing to provide me with a cash advance the next day. The bank did. Then this man said, “I want to give you my most precious possession,” and reached into his backpack. He pulled out a small rock almost the size of a tennis ball. He said, “It is a meteorite I found when I was young, and I always carry it with me.” He said these were the rocks the ancient Incas used to sculpt the stones. Of course, I did not believe him. He started hitting with this tiny rock, a much larger rock, and to my surprise, the vast rock broke in half. There was something spiritual watching this man break in half with persistent hits, another much larger rock. While in Ukraine, I went to an expert, who confirmed I had been given a rare meteorite. 

Argentina. I attended the annual gathering of the MICN (Missional International Church Network), an international movement dedicated to supporting international churches worldwide. Nowadays, many millions of Christians relocate to large cities worldwide for work or social reasons. International churches are dedicated to meeting spiritual needs and sharing the good news with people who do not necessarily live in their culture or country of origin and would like to continue worshiping in a language familiar to them. This ministry is inspiring because MICN is ministering to perhaps the most significant missionary movement in our modern Christian history, as many committed Christians who relocate would want to continue living and sharing their commitment to faith. I was invited to give a lecture on Emergency Management. After my lecture, I met with several of its ministry leaders, and we agreed that I would provide advice on including Disaster Management in their worldwide ministry strategy.

Spain, El Camino de Santiago.  This was my third pilgrimage. It is a beautiful time to share with other Christians from various countries and backgrounds. We are all seeking to meditate on our journey of faith. However, this time was particularly hard for me. We were struck by bad weather linked to the Valencia floods, and I had to cut my walk short because, on the eighth day of my hike, I started helping an older man. He had a fascinating story and said he was doing this hike in gratitude for his still being alive; ironically, I also did this hike in appreciation of still being alive. He has survived a horrible accident which left him paraplegic and attempted suicide. He survived, and he realized it was God who spared his life. At the end of our 8-hour hike together, I had to start carrying his backpack, and I hurt my knee, so my hike had to be cut short by two days. I started hitchhiking and met many kind people, especially the last couple who took me directly to Santiago de Compostela. Unfortunately, they had to drop me off on the main highway, where I was picked up by the police for jaywalking and said they would have to book me. I had never sat in the back of a police car! While investigating my passport, they asked me where I was coming from and where I was going. I said I was coming from travelling through South America and heading back to Ukraine. They both became very interested in my history and asked me questions about my experience in Ukraine. Finally, one said. “I am very envious of you. You are doing what I really would like to do.” Then, instead of giving me a ticket, they drove me to my shelter.

Netherlands: I spent three days in the Netherlands with my daughter, Andrea, and her husband, Josh. Andrea has landed a fantastic job that matches her personality and professional skills. I am very proud of her.

Kherson, Ukraine, is located at the South Front War. The city has suffered tremendous damage after over two years of constant bombardment. No home or building appears to have been spared from artillery damage. This town was founded by Russia's beloved Imperatriz, Katharine the Great. Now, it is slowly been destroyed by her very own descendants.  

One Sunday, I went to church. Before attending the Pentecostal church, which used to have over 1,000 people in attendance, I stopped at the Greek Orthodox mass. I like the liturgy, their sacred worship songs, and the solitude. Only five people were in attendance: the priest, his assistant, two elderly ladies, and me. This church is far away from its original mandate. After the mass, I went to the Pentecostal church. I noticed many new artillery hits along the way, and when I arrived, to my dismay, the church building was partially destroyed, and no one was around. There was no church service. The doors were locked, and no one could tell me where they had gone. Then I remembered that near my hotel, something looked like a church; they even had listed the time of the services at the front. I went there. The doors were unlocked, and I entered. Surprisingly, I encountered at least 20 nicely aligned empty coffins and many flower arrangements inside what I thought was still a church. It has now been converted into a funeral home! Surreal. It felt as if I was living in a fatalistic poem.

Kherson, the Imperatriz Katherine the Great, was buried here, and her throne is still at the cathedral she founded. The remains of the walls surround a beautiful park. One morning, I was heading to the market to get some supplies for people I support when suddenly, while crossing the park, artillery shells began raining upon me. I ran for cover under a partially destroyed retaining wall. I have learned to read the distances from when a cannon shuts by counting the seconds, so I have time to look for cover. This time, I realized that the Russians were shooting at a very close range. So I had nowhere to go but wait until the storm calmed down, which gave me time to pray a little amongst trees, a playground, a kiosk that suffered damage, and the beautiful Lenin theatre. It was ironic that the Russians were destroying their very own heritage. To make things more eery that morning, we also had some fog. Suddenly, in the distance, I see one man walking towards me. He had a long, trench black winter coat, and he was very tall with a black hat. He looked like one of those actors in British horror movies. However, I quickly realized I had seen this homeless man before wandering around the streets of Kherson. While crossing the park, he seemed oblivious that artillery was coming down. His demeanour gave me a picture of my Western world.  When I return to Europe and America, I am mesmerized by how we all go on with our lives, totally oblivious that we all may soon face catastrophe...

 My credit card.  While travelling in Peru, I started to have issues with my credit card, and I could no longer use it when I reached Argentina and Spain.  While in Ukraine, after spending long hours with different clerks at my bank and receiving all kinds of other reasons why my credit card and online banking account had been cancelled, I started running out of emergency cash.  I became concerned, but fortunately, my son Jonathan sent me a Western Union donation to keep me going. However, I could not retrieve his donation for several days because of an electric shortage and a computer glitch. When the donation was finally cleared, I ran to McDonald's and had the best Big Mac meal I had ever had. Because of all these cash uncertainties, I realize we have become dependent on plastic money; it is always there and never fails. I asked myself this question. Are we prepared if one day there is a total collapse of our plastic money?   

Kharkiv. I said before that where I had been serving, there was a sense of defeat; this city of Kharkiv is the exception. Ukraine's second-largest city is Kharkiv, located only 50 km south of the Russian border. Battles for control of this city date back centuries. It was long controlled by the Russians (USSR). The city has gorgeous constructions blended with unaesthetic buildings of the communist Soviet era.  

I came on my first mission trip to this city two years ago. The Russian army had reached the city's outskirts, and I could hear the artillery battles only ten kilometres north. The civic administrative center had many of its buildings obliterated by bombings, and fallen debris was everywhere. The only thing I could encounter was rushing back-and-forth military convoys composed of mismatched soldiers, driving their homemade painted vehicles with green along with ancient military trucks and artillery. Obviously, to me, they were fighting a grossly mismatched war. I asked myself.  How can this ragtag army stop one of the world’s most powerful armies?  They have…  A few people were walking on the streets, and all businesses were closed. In this city, I also met an older English-speaking man accompanied by three young men who turned out to be his bodyguards. He turned out to be a US state senator.  I was surprised to encounter him in such a scenario and agreed to show him around. I asked, “Why are you here risking your life?” He responded, “If I want my state to be supportive of this war, I want to see firsthand what is happening...”  In Downtown Kharkiv, only a handful of businesses were open. Two restaurants, one supermarket, one pharmacy, one beauty salon and a sex shop.” A clear display of human priorities...  

Two years later, the city thrives even though the Russian army is still camping within striking distance. All debris has been cleared, and businesses are open everywhere. Today, a fantastic Christmas presentation was held in the city center. This town is full of confidence, although some recognize that their fate may soon change due to the upcoming political changes in North America.  

I am curious why this city, which is so close to the front lines, is in such good spirits. This is my guess. This community has fought the Russian army siege twice in the last two years and has prevailed. From the city, Ukraine launched its most significant and most effective military offensive, driving the Russian army many kilometres east. 

I am encouraged to be here helping out.

Merry Christmas,

Nery

Note from Andrea: I am my dad's blog manager and while I regularly post the updates he sends to me, I do not always see the contact notes that you send via the blog. I do try to send them to my dad as much as possible but I may miss one or two, in which case, I am sorry if I have missed yours. My dad greatly appreciates your encouraging messages when he does get them!