Windsor Manor was tranquil in the light of mid-morning as Maia Mikhaluk and I sat over coffee. It was only the beginning of her long few days of planes and trains traveling back home to war-torn Kyiv, Ukraine after visiting Asbury and speaking to students.
Maia lives in the capital city of Ukraine with her husband and her daughter’s family, including her brand-new granddaughter Briana. Her son Danny, however, lives here in Wilmore, Kentucky, as a sophomore at Asbury. Maia is a photographer who loves hiking with her family in new and exciting places. “I love to travel,” she said. “I grew up in the Soviet Union behind the iron curtain… now I’ve been to sixty-three countries.” When describing her perfect day, she said it would be in the mountains with her family and a camera. “With a camera, it becomes kind of like worship,” she said. “You see the beauty of creation.”
Lately, her days are not spent in the serenity of the woods or the seclusion of the mountains, though. Maia spends her days in the heart of war, and they have since the start. The Mikhaluk family spent the early days of the invasion surrounding a nine-month pregnant Sasha (Maia’s daughter) as they walked through the capital’s streets. Many spent those days praying for the safe arrival of baby Bria, who has become a beacon of hope— not only for the community in Ukraine but people worldwide through Maia’s Facebook page. “It was partly for myself that I started writing on Facebook,” she said. “If people want to read, that’s great. If not – okay. But people seem to read.”
Maia’s Facebook page posts daily updates on the invasion and some personal stories of what her ministry is doing in Ukraine. “People get interested in human life stories,” she said. “They see not just the geo-political issue here, but that reflected in a life.”
Maia tells me that her family has had many opportunities to evacuate, but she and her husband Nick felt God called them to stay. “Leaders lead,” she tells the audience in the CLC. “You lead even in a crisis.”
But staying in a war-torn country means that daily life looks starkly different. The family is under constant physical danger from the air raids Russia continues to deploy on civilian locations and the threat of the draft hands above the head of Nick and Sasha’s husband, Nikita. Yet, they stay. They stay and lead a ministry making a real difference in the lives of “the most vulnerable,” as Maia said. They have seen God move in massive ways through their obedience to lead, even in the heart of war.
Toward the end of our conversation, Maia and I discussed how Christians could partner with our Ukrainian brothers and sisters. She requested that we “pray for peace that would be the result of our victory.”
There is a temptation to shy away from the word victory and go more toward reconciliation or peace. But the reality is Russian Military is committing horrific acts every day. This is injustice. This is oppression. This is evil. “Christians shouldn’t shy away from calling sin, sin. War is sin.”
It is not enough that we pray for the war to end, but as Christians, we have a call to pray for the oppressed. “I have no doubt that what’s happening is grief in God’s heart at this horrible suffering inflicted on people… God isn’t asking us to close our eyes to the issues when the crime is still going on.”
“Peace will come,” Maia tells me as she finishes the last sips of her coffee. “But it will come one of two ways.” Either Ukraine will have justice, or Russia will have more power, leaving destruction of so much good and the end of so many more innocent lives – more than the thousands already taken. There should be no hesitation in praying for victory for Ukraine. Not just peace – but victory. The Psalms are full of cries for freedom from oppression and deliverance from enemies – as is the nation of Ukraine. Let us join in the prayer.