Note: From Serving God under Siege (Eerdmans, 2025). Reprinted by permission of the publisher. Citations have been omitted.

Dear Readers,

It is a great honor for me to introduce this book to English-speaking readers.

I was born in Ukraine during the Communist regime in the USSR. As a member of a Baptist family, I grew up hearing that evangelical Christians were a “sect,” second-class citizens. We were told that we would not be allowed to go to university, get an education, or travel abroad. However, thirty years have passed, and God has given me the opportunity to have my book translated for American readers – something that was impossible to even dream of under the Communist dictatorship.

This book you are holding in your hands tells the story of a man who experienced internal migration in his own country after Russia launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine. I realize that the war we are experiencing today is far from the first in human history and, unfortunately, probably will not be the last.

The book was conceived as an honest account of what it is like to be displaced during a war in the modern world, very often a world of lonely people. This is the view of an ordinary person, a displaced person, who was not a soldier but served as a pastor of a church and was the president of a seminary in the south of Ukraine. In the Ukrainian edition, this book is called The Man Whose Home Was Stolen: The Fight for Freedom. For me, the main tragedy of the war was the loss of my home and the destruction of the seminary campus, where I have served as rector for nineteen years.

When I was writing this book, I asked myself: Why am I so hurt by the loss of society, the destroyed city and community in which I grew up, but not so sorry for the brick walls of my home? I found the answer in the fact that in our language there are two concepts of home. Home as a physical place – a building, a plot of land, property. And home as a place of communication, where a person meets with God and with other people, like in the Garden of Eden. I realized that the war destroyed this second concept of home – home as a place of communication and unity.

I understand that it can be difficult to convey these cultural and spiritual concepts to another audience. That is why I supported the editorial board’s advice to change the title of the book in English to Serving God Under Siege: How War Transformed a Ukrainian Community. This title more clearly conveys the meaning of the book for a wider audience. Also, let me draw your attention to the illustrations in the book.

For me, this book is a confession of an adult man, a kind of prayer at the altar. And since confession is often sad, I discussed with the illustrator the idea of black-and-white images. However, in order to convey hope, I asked that each illustration contain a color element, symbolizing a ray of light and faith in the best.

The book’s illustrator is a native of Kherson, like me. She also experienced emigration, moving to Germany, while I remained in Ukraine. That is why I chose her for this work – she perfectly understands the emotions that permeate my story.

I realize that the realities described in the book may differ from your experience. However, I hope that this honest conversation will help anyone who is looking for a way to their home – a home where you are accepted and where you can be yourself. I also think that this book can help a person who is experiencing the wounds from the losses we face in life.

The war taught me to value people. People are usually much more fragile, and their recovery much more difficult, than we sometimes think. I sincerely hope that this book will inspire you to value the people around you.

Dear readers, I am very grateful that you picked up this book. It is a great comfort and encouragement to me to know that my confession has found a response.

With blessings, forgiven sinner, traveler and happy husband

Valentyn

It was not easy for me, as the president of Tavriski Christian Institute (TCI), located in Kherson, to combine the work of running the school with thoughts of the possibility of war. In 2022, TCI was getting ready to celebrate its twenty-fifth anniversary. Our organization was entering a more stable phase of life – that’s what we believed! Therefore, we were planning to hold a celebration conference in September. For the anniversary, we began to renovate our office area. We were planning to install a geothermal pump for our heating system. We bought sports equipment for summer camps. We added landscaping to beautify the TCI campus before the arrival of our guests. This cozy place on the bank of the Dnieper River, bought in 2003 at auction, always attracted the unwanted attention of corrupt businessmen and government workers. But the Lord showed us mercy in our legal fight with the unrighteous people who tried to take that place away from TCI, and we have succeeded in defending our right to ownership of that piece of land!

The preparation continued. We cleaned the bank of the river. During the Soviet Union times, the craggy cliffs bordering the Dnieper were covered with dirt. We wanted to restore their natural look. We washed off the dirt with water cannons till the rock base showed, then we made a hanging terrace and put tiles all along the embankment. Then we planned to set up gazebos and benches and add more lights and greenery. Each thought was linked to the desire to celebrate the quarter-century anniversary well. We had gone through many trials and successes, failures and achievements. One of the major events was receiving the state license in 2019. For the first time in the history of Ukraine, an evangelical educational institution received such a distinction! “Thus far the Lord has helped us”!

We anticipated to welcome partners, friends and graduates of TCI at our celebration. The institute had educated many church ministers. We were also involved in translation and publishing and had a small printing office. The Pioneer Bible Translators (PBT) worked at our campus. We even had a small farm (hothouses) that supplied our kitchen with fresh vegetables. TCI also served in the countries of the Caucasus and Central Asia for years. We were hoping to publish a brochure with twenty-five stories of our graduates working for the kingdom of God. We expected many of them to come to the conference in the fall and share in our joy.

Everything was going well, but the “smell of war” was growing stronger. My heart was often troubled. Since 2021 I had been strongly encouraged to evacuate with my family three times. But I felt responsible for my colleagues and students, so I continued to work. The Lord must have seen my concerns and unwillingness to leave Kherson, so he prompted Ethan Norton (not his real name) one of my friends from the United States, to prepare TCI staff for the possible upcoming crisis.

I have known Ethan Norton for a long time. About ten years ago, our institute held a retreat for pastors who had gone through persecution and imprisonment in one of the Central Asian countries. That event, which took place at the Black Sea, was made possible thanks to the support of ministers and counselors from the USA. Ethan stood out among the other members of the team. Tall, physically strong, wise, and sensible. Everything indicated that he was a military man, and that turned out to be true. He was involved in counterintelligence and antiterrorist activity. It was very pleasant to talk to him and see his deep faith. Also, he had a very unusual take on life. I was surprised to hear stories about his family. For example, Ethan never bought toy weapons for his children. At the same time, once a week he trained them in the use of real weapons, so that they could protect their family if needed. I recalled my childhood. We were raised in the spirit of the evangelical Baptists, so we were also not allowed to play with toy guns. But we were not taught the importance of using weapons for protection. I liked the approach of Ethan Norton. His children would never play with weapons carelessly, but in the time of danger they would be able to protect themselves, their family and their country.

Shortly before the Russian invasion, Ethan got in touch with me. He offered to help create a safety strategy for TCI in case of war. Using metaphors and biblical stories, Ethan communicated important truths. I remember looking at the experience of Paul from a new, unexpected perspective. The apostle was very different from other disciples of Christ. All the first apostles had one thing in common when it came to ministry: they waited for the Lord himself to guide them. But Paul made a plan and worked on implementing it. Thus, he remains in history as the most productive minister, and the key to his success is his strategy.

“War,” explained Ethan, “always implies more risks, but a well-developed plan decreases the danger for all the staff.”

I was happy that TCI had now such a spiritual mentor who was competent in that area. He became our safety consultant. Several other foreign organizations proposed detailed steps of evacuation. My colleagues and I had to make a plan and get each TCI worker familiar with it.

Of course, the words of the Lord came alive for me: “Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it?” I began to understand that it was better to start taking care of safety beforehand than to be caught unprepared later, that it was wiser to be cautious earlier than to be sorry later. But, to tell the truth, it was difficult to try to be a man preparing for possible calamities. I did not mind working on evacuation strategy. But it was scary to think of what could happen next: What if the crisis did come and the plan would have to be implemented? I remember one of the points in the document sent to me: “Employers in profit and nonprofit organizations are responsible for the safety and health care of employees wherever the latter find themselves during work.” Those words struck me as urgent and prompted me to hurry up.