By Laura McKillip Wood
“My whole life has been divided into two parts—before and after February 24,” says Yulia Lubenets, who grew up in Kherson, Ukraine, and eventually worked as a professor at Tavriski Christian Institute in Kherson, with TCM International Institute in Vienna, and for Bible translators in Ukraine. Yulia thought she would live in Kherson the rest of her life. When Russia invaded her country, that changed.
Yulia still remembers the sound of shelling.
“Your whole perspective on life changes when you hear it for the first time,” she explains. When the shelling finally ended, it left a frightening silence. “I looked out of my window to see a line of armored cars, tanks, and soldiers with guns moving slowly down my street, right under my balcony.”
The sight seemed so unreal she did not even get scared at first.
“My brain just refused to take it in,” she explains. “But I knew we were now occupied.”
LIVING UNDER OCCUPATION
The Russians did not treat Kherson as harshly as other cities—possibly to show off that city in propaganda as the ideal occupation—but there were rumors of protestors mysteriously disappearing. Peaceful protestors ultimately were targeted with rubber bullets and tear gas.
For the first several weeks after the Russian invasion, Yulia’s life centered on finding food. Supermarkets and outdoor markets closed. Public transportation stopped, so every morning people went out on foot looking for food.
“I remember squatting down near a box with a few wilted cabbages, trying to find a decent one to use to make borscht for my dad. I paid a high price for it too,” Yulia recounts.
Eventually, it became easier to find food, but the tension of living in an occupied city with armed Russian soldiers everywhere caused psychological oppression.
“We felt completely powerless and deprived of all control over our own lives and surroundings,” she says. Yulia heard rumors of marauding, raping, and killing in occupied villages. Russian forces blocked humanitarian aid and prevented supermarkets from bringing goods to their stores from their warehouses outside the city. Instead, the Russians brought in their own humanitarian aid from Crimea and loudly publicized their “generosity.” Ukrainians grew depressed, demoralized, and bitter.
Nights were the worst. The streets emptied and people kept lights off for safety. Yulia spent her evenings pacing in her apartment, reciting her favorite psalms.
“I begin to shake when I think of those times.”
LEAVING KHERSON
Yulia’s friends began to leave the city. Yulia wanted to evacuate to safety, as well, but her 84-year-old father adamantly resisted. She honored his decision and stayed with him.
Then, one day, her father announced he would leave if they could go to Haus Edelweiss near Vienna, Austria. Haus Edelweiss is TCM International Institute’s center for European operations; Yulia taught there for many years. Her parents visited her there years ago and loved it.
Yulia emailed Tony Twist, the president of TCM, who enthusiastically agreed.
“It felt like a God thing—a true miracle,” Yulia says.
It was early April, and there were no “green corridors” open for people to flee. Friends who had already left reported being stopped and held at gunpoint while Russian soldiers pretended to check their passports. Friends said they spent the night in their car with fighting around them.
Yulia and her father finally did get a ride out of the city. They packed light with just one backpack and one suitcase.
“We witnessed a shelling on the way, saw missiles flying and heard explosions, but made it to Ukrainian territory safely,” she says. They eventually crossed to Moldova and then to Vienna.
“Our whole former life is now lost to us,” she says. Yulia remembers people like Abraham, Moses, and Ruth—people who left their homes behind to start again in the place God had prepared for them. “I guess it’s our turn now.”
NEW LIFE AT HAUS EDELWEISS
Today Yulia and her father are learning German. Her father, a lifelong atheist, attends church and reads a children’s Bible.
“I am amazed and moved to see how God uses this horrible situation to answer my prayers and prayers of many others for his heart to open and turn to Jesus,” she says.
Yulia will be working as a professor of church history and research methods at TCM; her father hopes to be useful helping the ministry. They also hope to help those trapped back in Kherson.
“I have unbelieving friends who are still there, whom I can see opening their hearts to the Lord, as they are able to see his hand better every day in the middle of this terrible situation,” she says. “I would like to continue to be a witness and blessing to them, as well as to my father and all those God will bring into my life.”
Since the start of the war, TCM has aided many other refugees. TCM has welcomed them into Haus Edelweiss, helped them find more permanent housing, and helped provide safe shelter in other locations where TCM ministers. TCM has provided 97,930 safe nights for guests via all their networks throughout Ukraine and surrounding countries since the start of the war. TCM also has worked with regional leaders to provide humanitarian aid inside Ukraine.
If you would like to donate to TCM to assist Yulia and her father, you may do so at www.tcmi.org/give. Simply type “Yulia” in the note area on that page.
Laura McKillip Wood, former missionary to Ukraine, lives in Papillion, Nebraska, and writes about missions for Christian Standard.
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