With the suspected outbreak of the H1N1 flu here in Ukraine, it has been quite a surreal experience to see nearly everyone wearing the white, protective masks.  While in the city of Zaporozhye yesterday, the only ones without masks were a few pedestrians and customers, but in the stores and offices, nearly every employee was wearing one.  All the police were wearing them.  All pharmacies were sold out, and suggested we make our own.  Schools are closed for at least three weeks, and any young children who are out and about with their parents are also wearing masks.

  There is no question that this preventative measure is warranted.  Ukraine is a small enough country with people traveling all about that an infectious flu could spread quickly and be a great danger.  With 250,000 reported flu-like illnesses and 80 Ukrainians already dead of the N1H1, it is certainly worth taking precautions.

  Yet, there is something very strange about seeing everyone and talking to everyone as they look at you from behind a white surgical mask.  When you’re at the doctor or the dentist, it’s normal enough, but when it’s on the streets, at the hardware or grocery store, in the McDonalds drive-thru, or at the police check-point, it definitely seems ominous.  

  While we had to run some errands, Oksana and I took turns staying with the children in the car, but as they peered through the windows at the masked people walking by, they sensed the weight and seriousness of the epidemic.  At one point, David asked me, matter-of-factly, “Papa, do you thing we’re going to die?”  

  I had to smile to myself at his bluntness, but I knew that the thought behind those words was actually the very reason that every one of those thousands and thousands of people out there had put on a surgical mask.  

  “Well, David,” I answered, “We’re certainly going to try our best to be careful.  We’re going to keep you guys out of stores and other public places for a while, we’ll wash our hands well, and most of all, we’ll pray for God’s protection.  But, ultimately, our lives are in God’s hands, and one of these days, we will get sick and die - because no one lives on this earth forever.  Usually, though, God’s work isn’t over for us until we get a little older.”  

  Still thinking about his questions, and glancing back outside at all the masked Ukrainians, I thought of how good it would be if people were as concerned about spiritual, eternal death as they were about physical death.  Yet the attitude of most people toward matters of the soul and eternity is like the attitude of one lady that I had met at an information counter in a large store that day.  She was the only employee around without a mask, and I couldn’t help but ask her, “So, what about you...aren’t you concerned about the flu?”  

  She shrugged and and smiled, “No, I’m not bothered about it.”

  We talked for a few minutes, and I was glad that, as we talked, the conversation turned toward God.  I was still amazed, however, that she had the job of talking to hundreds of people throughout the day and wasn’t concerned about where those people had been and what they were breathing on her!  

  Yet most of the people around us demonstrate that same nonchalance toward matters of eternity and the disease of sin that has infected every man and woman and desperately needs the cure that only Christ can offer.  Oh, may God open their eyes and hearts to this reality and bring about a spiritual awakening here in Ukraine that would create as much a concern about the disease of the spirit as about the sickness of the body!