DO YOU HAVE A ONE DOLLAR BILL?
My time in Ukraine was coming to an end so I returned the car I rented and took an eight hour bus ride back to Zhytomer. I sat next to a 46 year old soldier named Alexander. I expected he had a story to tell and conversations make bus rides go by much faster.
I asked him if he spoke Russian, and if so to tell me where he had been and where he was going.
He showed me on the map where he served on the front line for the last two years. He told me he had been wounded by shrapnel and showed pictures of the wounds, the hospital he was sent to for removal of the shrapnel, and of his X-rays. He explained how they tried to remove it and the excruciating pain. He also said he was headed home for a month to recuperate from his wounds before returning to the front.
Then he wanted to know what I was doing in Ukraine. I told him I had driven about 8000 kilometers (5000 miles) in country, preached in a few churches and done evangelism in various cities. He asked why God didn’t stop all the evil and the wars if He was Almighty. I told him I didn’t have a satisfactory answer, but I never would have met him without the war.
There were four bus stops along the way giving passengers an opportunity to go to the restroom, get refreshments, stretch, etc. He somewhat adopted me, showing great concern when he thought I took too long to return to the bus. He told me he would not allow the bus drivers to leave without me. I appreciated his concern, but thought I was staying within the allotted time for each stop.
After we had been on the bus for several hours he asked, “Do you have a one dollar bill?” I told him I did and he could have it. But he insisted on paying for it.
Then he said, “would you sign it?” So, I signed it. Then curiosity got the best of me and asked why he wanted my signature.
He said his friends on the front line would never believe he’d met an American traveling all over the country in spite of the war. He was trying to think of a way to convince his friends this was indeed the case.
I have to admit there were times along the way I asked God what in the world I was doing in Ukraine. The still small voice of God answered, “Someone has to go.”
