Wind of Changes

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Tuesday, 16 March 2010 12:09

Any American knows what “winds of change” means, but I like the way Russians say it better: “wind of changes.” One wind, many changes.  In the last four years, we’ve gone through more changes than we can count: change of vocation, country, language, culture; of friends, finances, churches… and now the wind is blowing another big change our way: We are leaving Krasnodar for good.

Remember that visa we trucked all the way to Slovakia to get last month? Since then, the local government has exercised its right to change its mind and taken away not our visa, but our Russian company’s right to hire foreigners. The government was clear and direct in its reason for this: We are westerners and they don’t trust us. In effect, they're kicking us out.

We have always known that as discreet as we try to be about why we’re here—as careful as we are not to use the “M” word—in reality, we’re not fooling anyone.  Any person who wants to know who we are and why we’re here only needs to Google our names…and the FSB (KGB) has much better means than Google at its disposal. We are not the only ones affected by this government edict: Three other families, some of them our close friends, will also have to move. That leaves only 4 or 5 other missionary families here—there were over 20 when we first came--and it’s only a matter of time before they follow us out.

So where will we go? We’re not sure ourselves. We have to be out by March 31^st: fifteen days from now. We are going to Kiev, Ukraine to live for a month. During that month, we will work with different children-at-risk ministries there, and spend time fasting and praying about the next step. In Kiev, we will be issued another Russian visa, good for 3 months, which will allow us to come back to Krasnodar, pack up our things and say our good-byes. We expect that July will find us living somewhere else.

We have a short list of criteria that we’re looking for in a new place, and at the top of the list is a stable visa situation. Frankly, we’re exhausted. Russia is one of the most unstable places for missionaries to live in peacetime: the document chase is never-ending; the travel after documents grueling and expensive, ministry is always being interrupted, and we are constantly saying good-bye to good friends as they choose or are forced to move on to more American-friendly parts of the world. We are tired of instability. This has been the hardest three years of my life. When most of your energy is concentrated on survival, you have little left over to pour out in ministry to other people. Kiev is not our only option, but it may be the most stable one. We hope to have made a concrete decision by May 1^st, when we return to Russia for our final 3 months.

I took these pictures from my bedroom window this morning:  They show the road in front of our house: more a sea of muck than a passable road, actually, and if you look closely you might see the mix of snow and rain blowing down.  That’s what life feels like lately: a lot of mud and rain and raw wind. But one of our Russian worship songs has kept going through my head today. Translated, it says, “You are the wind of changes, the long-awaited Spring.” I remember once, long ago, I was at a home Bible study where I told everyone about some prayer God had answered in just the way I wanted. I ended with the neat little statement, "God was really good to us." One of the women turned and said to me, "Would God not have been good to you, if He didn't give you what you wanted?" I've never forgotten that: It’s a reminder to me to find and hold onto the confidence that the One Wind that has brought so many changes to us is blowing something good our way, no matter what that ends up looking like: that the long-awaited Spring is just around the corner.