The Humanity Behind the Headlines

Thursday, February 24th, 2022. 

 

The world anxiously awaits dooming news as they keep their cell phones by their pillows, many not sleeping at all. The rumors and gossip and political predictions have formulated into a grey reality: Russia finally declares war on Ukraine. The headlines are flooded with updates, predictions, stories and a call to the nations, to pray and donate and come alongside Ukraine as they are being oppressed and attacked. 

 

My team and I happened to be a tattoo shop hanging out with a local tattoo artist that had quickly become a dear friend to us. Our hearts started to race as we looked at the news, watching the twitter videos and discussing the impending future of Ukraine, of Russia, of Montenegro, of Europe and of the world. 

 

Later that day we went to lunch with our dear friend from Russia who we had met on the very first day of getting to Montenegro. As we walked, she immediately addressed the headlines and explained that she had been a wreck since early this morning. We got to sit down at a little white table in her backyard as the sun danced down the fence as she talked about how heavy and guilty she felt about it all. How she just wants to show her support to the people hurting and stop all the violence. Her eyes held the weight of the world, the kind of weight that makes a sunny day seem grey with storm clouds. 

 

Sunday, February 27th, 2022.

 

Our time in Montenegro has come to a close, we dolefully drive to the airport with our kind friends from church that we made here. They told us that we would be coming in just in time for the national, peaceful protest in support of Ukraine in the country’s capital. 

 

So we packed up our bags, made our beds and headed out early to be apart of this pivotal acknowledgment to the people of Ukraine. As we drive into the capital, the streets are blocked off with police vans and hundreds of people in big, puffy coats walking the up and down the streets. We quickly rush out of the cars and walk briskly to meet up with the crowd. None of us say a word as we walk in unison, solemnly intaking the reality of the heartache around us. The crowd was swimming with azure blue and bright yellow, the proud colors of Ukraine worn on their clothes and stained in their faces. Flags were being waved and boasted. The arms of the tall Ukrainian man; who was proudly swaying the flag that meant so much more than a piece of cloth, but an emblem of home, dismayed any exhaustion of his arms as he methodically and sorrowfully swung, over and over again. Many were holding up signs painted with diligence, bearing the promise of emotion in each letter. Their furrowed eyebrows were frozen in place as the guarantee of tragedy was woven into their eyes. 

 

We kept on running into all the faces of the people we had made friends with this month who we learned to love and call family. There was a certain ring in my heart and chill in my bones when the entire assembly of protesters sang the Ukrainian national anthem as I looked back to see our Ukrainian friend, eyes red and hot with tears, reaching her arms around her ribs in an attempt to somehow hold it all together. 

 

I didn’t dare say a word, just simply looked with such a deep honor that I could see a glimpse of this history being written into the canvas of my heart. 

 

 

 

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After spending this past month nestled into the sweet corner of the mountains meet by the sea of Montenegro, it is impossible to look back at our time with anything but praise of the Lord’s sovereignty and divine timing. Every time we stepped foot outside, the Lord would orchestrate the most beautiful symphony of intentional encounters, with people from over 14 nations. On our first day, tired and hungry after a travel day, we stumbled into a little cafe diner that would soon become a safe haven and birthplace of fellowship. Right next to us, we heard the familiar sound of English speakers and turned to them in excitement. That day we met six new friends, from Russia, Ukraine, Bosnia, England, Japan and America. What we thought to be an outlandish coincidence of encounters soon became the normality of everyday. 

 

Each day we met more and more friendly people until our schedules became booked and our nights kept on getting later. The Lord ended up helping us find a local church body that immediately felt like home. We were able to come alongside and serve them. The pastor’s wife and newborn baby are from Ukraine with their entire family still there right now. Through the church, English classes, hiking groups, working out groups and simple coffee dates, we met mostly Ukrainian and Russian people even before any of the events began to unfold. 

 

As time progressed, the news started to become more invasive in our notifications and in our minds, as the world began to tackle the unfolding reality that was rapidly approaching. And as the news grew, so did our relationships and we got to be able to see the behind the scenes of the headlines and statistics. We got to see our friends wake up at six o’clock talking anxiously with their families and friends in Ukraine. We got to see our friends who are unbelievers show up to prayer nights when previously refused, their hands glued to their chest as they prayed to Jesus for the first time, not knowing how to do it but simply knowing that they needed something, anything. We got to see the heavy hearts of our Russian friends bring wine and food to their Ukrainian friends and hold hands in English class. We got to see people from all over the balkans come alongside all their Ukrainian friends and lend whatever they had to offer. We watched friends and strangers the same flood into a worship night we held on our last night in Montenegro. 

 

Most of the entire room was all non-believers, yet they all sat and listened and sang and cried together, coming together for the cause of love and the cause of peace, even if they didn’t know where it came from yet. People who have never prayed came up to us with tears bubbling our of their eyelids, asking us to ask Jesus for help and for peace. I got to see my heart shatter into a million little pieces for all the unspoken looks of despair, every subtle and unwritten touch of support and affection, every sound of the cries of children at war protests, ringing into the crowd with a whimper of uncertainty for the years to come. 

 

 

I am brought to my knees when I think of the absolute honor and privilege it is that the Lord has placed us in this specific place, at this specific time, with every encounter being scheduled to the second, any different move and nothing would be the same. I think of the hardship but I also think of the unity and redemption that is hidden in the wings of despair. The real, authentic, heart-wrenching and tear-jerking reality of redemption. That is where Jesus is found, not in the facade of perfection but in the reality of redemption. IN the injustice and IN the response to it. 

 

I think of John 8 of Jesus and the woman caught in adultery. In an attempt of despite, the pharisee’s brought to Jesus a woman caught in the middle of an act of adultery, a hideous and unspeakable crime at the time. They said that “the Law says to stone her, what do you say?” This was an attempt to catch Jesus in a double bind and embarrass His authority. In response to this, Jesus says nothing and lowers himself to bend in the sand, and begins to draw in the sand. They hurl more anxious and deceitful questions at him and after a while he stands up and says, “whoever here is without sin, can be the first to throw a stone…” Then He waits as everybody slows ends up leaving the area until it was just her and Jesus. 

 

In the impertinent face of injustice, Jesus is patient. He takes time to silence the voice of bigotry with the powerful protest of patience. He is empathetic. He lowers himself and bends in the dirt to display that He is sharing her shame and embarrassment with her, directly calming her in the midst of noise and violence. He inspires hope through his conviction. He doesn’t automatically condemn the woman nor the pharisees, He plainly calls out the hypocrisy in our pride and stays with us until all our shame has walked away, leaving the lasting fragrance of hope in the nostrils of the victims and the perpetrators. 

 

As the world begins to face the daunting possibilities of the future within our countries and within our hearts, there is a continual beckoning to peace, empathy and hope, and as we stand with Ukraine, let us be grounded in our allegiance to love not our slavery to vengeance.

 

Photos from the protest: Sunday February 27th, 2022

All Photos taken by Drew Davidson