We all desire peace. Whether it’s peace in our surroundings or peace in our hearts, we constantly find ourselves seeking quieter and less chaotic times. However, there are many times when our seeking of peace seems unsuccessful.

War can deprive us of not only buildings, land, or ordinary life, but it also destroys the feeling of security, destroys silence in the heart, takes peace from under our feet, and leaving only pain plus a lot of questions. But even in the darkest of times, when it seems that there is no light anymore, there is still hope. And this hope is in the Lord. As you can read in her story below, Svetlana is one of the many whose life has been divided into “before” and “after.”

Please continue to pray for the lives caught up in the chaos of war, both in Ukraine and all other countries as well. Let us pray that the people will find comfort in their hearts. Just as Jesus tells us in John 14:27, let us rest in His peace. He said, Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.  I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

My name is Svetlana. My life before the war was simple, but full of peace and gratitude. My husband and I lived in our own house, which over the years became not only a roof over our heads, but a real home—a place of warmth, care, and work. My husband worked on a farm, and I looked after my paralyzed mother. We grew vegetables, fruits, kept cattle, and had chickens. We lived our rhythm and were happy.

But on February 24, 2022, our piece of the world collapsed. The war burst into our village with shelling, fear, and despair. The light disappeared, the water stopped flowing, life became unbearable. The worst thing is that there was my mother, who is 87 years old. She is blind, and in recent months her condition has deteriorated significantly. She hallucinates. She needs constant supervision, and now she is registered with a psychiatrist.

It was painful to leave the house, in every corner of which are our memories. But it became impossible to stay. The military helped us to evacuate, even to transport my mother. Now we are in [a different city]. We live in a rented apartment. It’s a completely different life. Everything seems foreign and temporary.

I also had difficulty. Because of the war, I have constant anxiety, fear for my mother, uncertainty about the future. Also, panic attacks began and now a psychologist is working with me. Sometimes it seems that the world has collapsed, and I will not find the way back.

Commit your way to the Lord; trust in Him, and He will do it (Psalm 37:5).

My heart hurts for what I lost, but most of all for that calm, real life where there was work on earth, fresh air, apples from a tree, and my mother, who was still smiling. I miss our happy life. Today everything is different. 

But despite the pain and fatigue, we do not give up.  I know I’m not alone. God is close to those who cry. I believe that the Lord sees our nights without sleep, our prayers through tears. And even now, we’re getting help from kind people, volunteers, acquaintances, and strangers asking, “How are you holding up?”

We ask for prayers. This is the biggest support for us. To have peace on difficult days. For peace to come. Lest we lose ourselves among the ruins.

. . . and he shall wipe away every tear from their eyes; and death shall be no more; neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain, any more (Revelation 21:4).

I am grateful to everyone who helps. Those who do not forget about the settlers, who did not pass by someone else’s pain. This is love in action. This is Christ among us.  We are waiting for victory. But more—we are waiting for healing. And even if the world has changed, God has not changed. He remains our shelter and strength.

We continue to pray for our country, for our people, and for our future. People who have experienced such pain only want to be happy. Now, we have happiness only in Jesus Christ and in His salvation.