“I was born in 1944 in Donetsk, Ukraine, where my mother had come to work in the mines.  Life was difficult for her as she lost her husband when she was only forty years old.  

  In a village called Dimitrievka, there was a small evangelical church that my aunt attended.  When I was only seven years old, she sent me a small New Testament that she had somehow received from America, and at that young age I began to read the Bible.  That was truly a miracle, because, at that time in our country, Bibles were difficult to obtain, and even many pastors had only portions of scripture that were copied by hand.  Many of my older relatives were still unable to read, and so they would sit me on a bench and gather around as I would read to them.  

  My mother, however, was an orthodox believer, and when she understood that my aunt was a evangelical Christian she took the New Testament away and sent it back.  

  After finishing school at age twenty, I was married.  My husband was a worker in the mines of the Donetsk region and I worked as a teacher in a school for children who were partially deaf.  Two daughters were born to us.  

  For many years I lived just like others around me.  I thought of myself as a good and decent person, and even others around me thought well of me. The process of life moved forward as I cared for my family and grew older.

  Although I didn’t seek God during these years, there were moments that would later come back to my memory, and I would see that God had used them to impress me with the reality that He existed.  

  For example, one of the little boys that I taught in school had especially struggled with mathematics.  He often had to stay after classes to do additional work.  One day, I was hungry, and so I left him to do his assignments and I went to eat.  When I returned, I was amazed to find the boy on his knees and praying the Lord’s Prayer!  When I asked him where he had learned it, he told me, “My grandmother taught it to me and said that if I’m ever going through something difficult, I can pray it.”  I smiled and said, “Well, perhaps God has heard your prayer.  You can stop for now and go eat.”  This was during the years of communism, and it surprised me to hear an eight year old boy praying.  In the school, these children were taught only atheism.  Yet, seeing the boy pray, I had to admit to myself that I, too, remembered those words from my childhood and would repeat them nearly every day as I left for work.  Deep inside me, I knew that God was real, yet I had no true relationship with Him.    

   As the years progressed, things became more difficult.  The economy was struggling, we were poor, and somehow I needed to feed my family.  Long periods would pass when we received no salary whatsoever from our jobs.  I was constantly thinking to myself, “Where can I get food?”  Yet something strange happened.  I felt a voice within me during this time, telling me not to worry or be anxious about finding food.  Little did I know, God was beginning to reach out to me, urging me to trust Him, and often, I sensed His leading and comfort even though I didn’t yet know Him as my own Lord and Savior.  

  Around the age of 48, there came a strange period in my life when everything around me truly seemed to fall apart.  It was as if my life had come to a dead end.  My adult daughters were going through divorces.  My husband and I also went through a divorce at this time, and there were court hearings and mountains of pressures upon me.  Many nights, I couldn’t even bear to be in my own empty home, and I would spend the night at the boarding school where I taught.  Even there, in the comfortable room where I would stay, lying sleepless at night, the autumn winds would blow the rain against our building and I would hear the hollow knocking of the branches against my window.  It all seemed to me to be a echo of the turmoil and loneliness within my own soul.  

  I sensed this emptiness and helplessness in my life, and began to have anxiety and doubts that I had never experienced before.  One night, alone in my room, I fell on my knees and cried out to God.  I said, “Lord, I cannot go on by myself.  I’m so helpless to do anything about these ruins that have become my life.”  

  About this time, I worked with a woman who’s husband was a believer, and they were able to obtain a Bible for me.  Initially, I read it with a skeptical eye, looking for contradictions and errors.  Reading the Old Testament prophesies however, I could see clearly that they had been miraculously fulfilled in Jesus Christ, and I could not discount this as a coincidence.  Little by little, as I continued to read the Word of God, faith was born in my heart, and I began to see God answer prayers and work in my life and circumstances.  I was so grateful to Him, after the dark period that I had come through, and began to have a desire to go to church.  

  First, I visited the orthodox church, but felt only a spiritual emptiness there, and so I decided to just stay home and read my Bible by myself.  Yet I still longed for fellowship, and I began to pray, “Lord, please send me other believers who are like me, so that I can be encouraged in my faith.”  

  Although it’s difficult to comprehend, I actually came to the church which I now attend by means of a strange dream.  In my dream, I was walking along a dirty, unfamiliar road when I saw a town before me.  In my dream, I suddenly recognized the town and knew that if I would just go one bus stop further along the road, I would be able to find my way home.  When I awoke, I thought to myself, “What a strange dream!”  Then, however, I remembered that on that very road of which I had dreamt, there was a Baptist House of Prayer.  For some reason, that fact seemed important to me, and so, one Sunday soon after, I decided to visit this church.

  I was fifty-four years old when I entered the evangelical church for the first time, and I was immediately struck with a feeling that this place was like no other where I had ever been on this earth.  I felt an unexplainable emotion within me as I sat and listened to the preaching of the Word of God.  By the time the pastor had given an invitation to repent, I was trembling and uncertain of what to do.  A woman sitting near me leaned over and asked me, “Are you saved?  Have you repented?”

  I answered, “No,” but even as I spoke those words, I understood that this was exactly the need of my heart, and I stood, and then went forward.  I didn’t really know what to say, but I cried and cried, and spoke the only words I could think of, the words of the Lord’s Prayer that I remembered from my childhood.  I especially remember praying the words, “Forgive us our debts...”  

  My life was immediately filled with joy and freedom.  The burden of my sin and guilt had fallen away, and I felt such love for God!   In the months and years that followed, God was so good to me in every area of my life.  My husband and I were reconciled and remarried.  My daughters also found wonderful families.

  Sadly, not everyone shared in my rejoicing.  My older brother angrily called me a traitor for supposedly betraying our orthodox faith, even though I had previously had no true relationship with God, and he, himself, was a heavy drinker.  Although I tried to share with him about the change that the living Christ had brought to my life, he would hear nothing of it.  “I am my own God,” he told me.  Sadly, two years after my conversion, he ended his own life.  

  During this time, I was still a relatively new Christian, and the Lord was teaching me and patient with me through many mistakes.  When nearly all the funeral preparations for my brother were left to me so that my sister-in-law and her family could wrangle over his property, I lost my temper with them and said words that a Christian should never say.  Soon after the funeral, I became ill and lost strength in my legs.  For nearly a year, I was bedridden, and recognized this as chastening from the Lord for my ungodly response.  

  My family cared for me diligently during this time, my son-in-law, who is a doctor, did his very best to help, but to no avail.  

  Then, in 1999, a Christian evangelist came to our region to hold special church services.  My husband had become deeply saddened and frustrated by my physical condition, and informed me that he was arranging for me to see a traditional folk healer on the coming Saturday.  I told him, “I don’t want that.  If you want to help me, please just take me to church, to the last service with the evangelist on Saturday.”  

  He looked at me and said, “You need to make a choice.  Pray - or get better?”

  I said, “I choose prayer.”  

  He then answered, “Well, then may your God heal you.”  

  On Saturday, I was taken to church and heard the Word of God.  On the following Tuesday, I woke up in the morning with an amazing thought running through my mind.  “I’m going to stand up today!”  I stood up, and walked outside where I soaked in the beauty of the summer air, and the nature around me.  God had raised me up!  

  My husband was incredulous.  He just stared at me, and then said, “Why, you’re walking!”

  I answered, “Yes.  My God has healed me!”  

  I gave him a Bible which he began to read, and in time, I had the joy of praying with my husband as he bowed in repentance and received salvation in Christ.  

  I continued to grow as a believer, and my life was full of a new purpose and meaning.  I noticed immediately about my church that there were many active ministries.  It seemed that everyone was involved in some kind of work for the Lord, and I also had a desire to do something for Him with my life.  Yet that was when I was still unable to walk, and I wondered, “What can I do to serve the Lord.”  This greatly concerned me.

  Our pastor would encourage us to seek the Lord for the ministry that He wanted us to do, and he assured us that God had a purpose for everyone.  “If you don’t yet see what ministry the Lord wants you to fulfill,” the pastor would say, “then just wait on the Lord, and He will show you.”

  I didn’t see that God had given me any gifts, and my faith was very small.  

  But one day, as I was listening to people read poetry during the church service, I thought, “Now, reading poetry!  That is something that I can do!”  Then the question occurred to me, “Where will I find poetry to read?”

  An older sister in the Lord was sitting in front of me and she had a little book of Christian poetry from which she would often read to the congregation.  I asked her, “Can I have your book, so that I can use some of those poems, too?”  She smiled at me and said, “I’m sorry, but I’m going to use all those poems myself!”

  I began searching again, and found another book of poetry.  However I was disappointed when one of the women at the church informed me that all of those poems had already been recited during the services.  

  So, I decided that since there seemed to be no other options I would try to write something myself with the Lord’s help.  So I did, and that desire was blessed by God and turned into several entire books of poetry for adults and children!  These volumes of Christian poetry that the Lord has given me have now circulated and been a blessing to many.  

  Truly God exists, and He has promised, to those who follow Him and seek after Him, joy here on earth and joy eternally in heaven.  I am very aware that it was not my own good deeds that brought me salvation, but it was the calling of the Lord and His mercy and grace upon my life.

  I praise Him for the joy that I have found in Him!”