Well will you look at that? I'm at the same point in my life as I was a year ago (almost).
Again, I'm getting ready for my next visit to Russia - this one will be my 4th! I'm becoming an old pro at this.
Already I have a great bunch of people on my team, we're going to have a blast!
So anyway, tonight I was writing up another of the many stories that came from my last trip. I'll be putting them into a newsletter for my supporters and would-be supporters to read and be encouraged by.
I thought I'd like to share just one of those stories, as it gives me goose bumps as I type it out and relive it! Enjoy.
Customs on the train
The train from Rostov-on-Don, Russia to Dnepropetrovsk, Ukraine was an overnight journey. We bundled ourselves into the train at dusk, waving goodbye to our new friends in Rostov, and to Natasha’s mother and sister. She was coming with us on her own adventure - this being her first time out of Russia!
We crammed our bulky luggage into the small compartment with two sets of bunks, and flopped down to chat as our train rolled on.
Before long, we were all dozing. At around midnight the train stopped and border security entered the train and were soon knocking on our compartment door. Everybody woke up and dug out their passports and documents.
Yes, we had our passports. Yes, we had our visas. Then the guard checking our documents asked for a copy of our “invitation letter”. This is a special supporting document issued when obtaining our visas. Unfortunately it was one thing I had forgotten to bring! We were very, very nervous as a group of three guards gathered at our door looking at our documents, discussing what to do with us.
Wendy and I both began silently praying about the situation as Natasha answered their random questions. Suddenly one of the guards asked Natasha if we were Christians. She answered truthfully. Then he asked “baptist?” - which is used as a generic, and often derogatory term for non-Orthodox Christians. Natasha answered “no, protestant” - which itself is still probably a dangerous title in an Orthodox country. Finally, he asked if we’d come to evangelise (we were travelling on a “tourist” visa, and special visas are required for any kind of religious visit). Again she answered truthfully, and we were now in God’s hands!
The air was thick with tension as he looked at us for what seemed an age, then he ordered the guard holding the passports to “stamp it”.
The guard warned us that next time we should apply for the correct visa. He wished us goodnight and they all moved on.
Thank God!
Again, I'm getting ready for my next visit to Russia - this one will be my 4th! I'm becoming an old pro at this.
Already I have a great bunch of people on my team, we're going to have a blast!
So anyway, tonight I was writing up another of the many stories that came from my last trip. I'll be putting them into a newsletter for my supporters and would-be supporters to read and be encouraged by.
I thought I'd like to share just one of those stories, as it gives me goose bumps as I type it out and relive it! Enjoy.
Customs on the train
The train from Rostov-on-Don, Russia to Dnepropetrovsk, Ukraine was an overnight journey. We bundled ourselves into the train at dusk, waving goodbye to our new friends in Rostov, and to Natasha’s mother and sister. She was coming with us on her own adventure - this being her first time out of Russia!
We crammed our bulky luggage into the small compartment with two sets of bunks, and flopped down to chat as our train rolled on.
Before long, we were all dozing. At around midnight the train stopped and border security entered the train and were soon knocking on our compartment door. Everybody woke up and dug out their passports and documents.
Yes, we had our passports. Yes, we had our visas. Then the guard checking our documents asked for a copy of our “invitation letter”. This is a special supporting document issued when obtaining our visas. Unfortunately it was one thing I had forgotten to bring! We were very, very nervous as a group of three guards gathered at our door looking at our documents, discussing what to do with us.
Wendy and I both began silently praying about the situation as Natasha answered their random questions. Suddenly one of the guards asked Natasha if we were Christians. She answered truthfully. Then he asked “baptist?” - which is used as a generic, and often derogatory term for non-Orthodox Christians. Natasha answered “no, protestant” - which itself is still probably a dangerous title in an Orthodox country. Finally, he asked if we’d come to evangelise (we were travelling on a “tourist” visa, and special visas are required for any kind of religious visit). Again she answered truthfully, and we were now in God’s hands!
The air was thick with tension as he looked at us for what seemed an age, then he ordered the guard holding the passports to “stamp it”.
The guard warned us that next time we should apply for the correct visa. He wished us goodnight and they all moved on.
Thank God!
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