During my freshman year of college I rebelled. Though I was a Christian and many people loved me, I alienated myself from my family, my Christian friends and my church. Isolated from the good influences in my life, I followed my desires while rejecting Christ. I was lonely and played games with Christ; hoping He would pursue me but having no intention to submit to His love. As Ephesians 2:12 says, “In those days [I was] living apart from Christ… [I] lived in this world without God and without hope.”
That summer I ran away to the Ukraine. During the school year I applied, and was mercifully accepted as, a member of The Salvation Army’s Summer Mission Team—an outreach group of six Christian peers—that traveled to the Ukraine. From June through August, 2001 we ministered in the cities Kiev, Donetsk and Kharkov. We worked with children, the homeless, rehab patients, the elderly and visited mental asylums.
We began the first youth program for the Kiev Lighthouse Corps; a church of marginalized, homeless Christians, strategically placed amongst a half-dozen, dilapidated, Soviet-era housing complexes. The church leaders were eager for us to start working with the youth of their neighborhood. Our approach was simple: each day we would go to a playground, throw a Frisbee, sing some songs, do a craft and love over seventy impoverished children.
That’s when I met Max. He was a reckless 6-year-old; who ran at full speed, threw dirt, started fights, pinched and kicked his way through our youth outreach. He was as adorable as he was mischievous. I took it upon myself—as the martyr of the group—to watch and distract him while my team members took care of the rest of the children. I wanted to show Max a better way. I wanted to be his friend and break him of his rebellion. I thought the best way to do this was to tire him out. So for three days I followed, pursued and chased him around the crowded cement playground. He was having the time of his life, knowing he had my attention and pretending not to care. He would not be easily broken.
On the fourth day, after a few hours of running around, Max slowed down. He sat in the dirt, gasping for breath. He was finally tired. With a feeling of accomplishment I walked over to Max, scooped him up and placed him on my hip. Then I said a very ordinary phrase in Russian, Ya tebia liubliu, meaning “I love you.” I was surprised to hear Max reply with an extraordinary phrase in his native language, Ya tebia liubliu. I didn’t even have a moment to appreciate what had happened when Max turned to me, smiled and spat in my face. I did the best thing I could; I put him down and walked away.
I think about the Ukraine everyday. It was a great spiritual watershed moment in my life. I was tired. Tired of the isolation and loneliness I felt in my rebellion. I was lonely and isolated because I had rejected Christ right when I needed him most. I was a prodigal son avoiding a faithful Father. “But God is so rich in mercy, and he loved [me] so very much, that even while [I was] dead because of [my] sins, he gave [me] life when he raised Christ from the dead.” (Ephesians 2:4). And now when he holds me in His arms I can just smile and say “I love you.”
Youth Department