The Snow is Gone . . . but the Field is White!

The Kingdom of God is growing. This young man’s baptism in our branch marks the second in a family with seven children. His older brother was baptized a year ago and is clerk in the branch. When the older brother, Deema began investigating the church over a year ago his mother was not pleased, but after seeing what a great positive impact the church has on her older son, she was happy for Misha’s baptism. Now with two brothers in the church, both will be strengthened and there is greater hope in the family.

In the Sumy branch, far to the North, several English speakers from Ethiopia joined the church and they have been bringing in their friends and family this month so now they have to hold a Gospel Essentials classes taught in English specifically for this group. Every time there is a baptism we have to send 300 Hryvnia to the Elders so that they can rent a swimming pool. Today’s baptism in the Lughansk branch will be held in the river outside of town so we will rent a matruska (van or small bus) to transport the baptism party to the river.  It takes a lot of comittment to be baptized in a river when the temperature is 40 degrees outside!

It is very exciting to get calls like; “I’m calling from San Diego. I have a young friend. I am hoping you can help him.” The lady then explained that a clean, sensitive, searching young man with high living standards had been renting from her while attending school. He has now moved to Ukraine to find the roots he feels he has here. “Could you help him find good young adults?” Another call came to Mom’s cell phone from a Russian-speaker. Mom can understand a few words but not enough to really know the reason for the call and so she explains that she only speaks a little Russian. He then asks if she speaks English, if she is a member of the Latter-day Saints church and would she know if any one could give his family lessons?

As we walk down Bogdan Khmelnitsky Street and across the bridge each day the other walkers we approach drop their gaze to the ground. They do not respond to a smile, a nod or a greeting. But on the busy highway it is different. At the stop lights or just driving down the road many buses, trolleys and marshutka’s pass, all filled with people. I can tell they feel safe inside their bus-capsules so they stare out through the glass at the strange Americans with black nametags. I look back. I smile or nod or mouth a greeting but they never respond. There are so many of them . . . So many cars, so many busses, all filled with people. I see in their faces the needs that they do not know how to fill.

“So,” I say quietly to my Heavenly Father, “These are ALL yours. You know and love each one.”

And then in that very moment I know, too, that he wants them back . . . each one of them. He can heal their sorrows and soothe their pains. It is Him they are seeking. They just do not know where to look.

But I do.