Matthew 5:43-45 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor^[a] and hate your enemy.’ ⁴⁴ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, ⁴⁵ that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.

I grew up at the end of the Cold War, and like everyone else, believed that the Soviets were our enemies. They hated us, so we hated them. Their government had its finger on the nuke button all the time, and we lived under the scare that at any time, we would be bombed, nuked, obliterated from the face of Earth. The people were starving to death, they didn’t have enough food to go around. Nothing worked properly in their country, all due to communism.

Then came peristroika, and the Cold War was over. Forgotten were the Soviets, and now we were to call them Russians. Country boundaries were restored to nations we had never heard of, and really, what did it matter if the Ukraine, Georgia, Lithuania, or Armenia had their independence? Who had ever heard of Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan, or any of the other “stan” countries? They never appeared on the radar in the world of a teenager, and rarely for a gal starting her own family and beginning a life overseas. The animosity was dormant.

Exciting news was that missionaries were being allowed to enter and talk about Jesus. The call was urgent, as no one knew how long the window of opportunity would be open. Exciting stories made their way back to the US, astounding statistics, new inroads and accomplishments. Praise God, Russia was open to the Gospel message.

Fast forward many years to 2009, in Buenos Aires, Argentina. I meet a Russian couple at the international church my husband was called to pastor. Very nice couple, warm hearted, and open to friendship. We hit it off from day one, and the next summer they invited us to their house to share a meal with them.

Meal is an understatement – it was a feast, not lacking anything, including the dessert I brought. At their home we met our hostess’s mother, who is wheelchair bound after a massive stroke two years earlier. Svetlana shares her story, of how after she heard that her mother had a stroke, she flew to Russia, took care of her and her health was restored enough that Svetlana could fly her to Argentina. I heard how she asked prayer for the long flight, that nothing would go wrong with her mother, that they would let her fly, that there wouldn’t be any complications. And God answered those prayers, hallelujah. Faina is now living with her daughter and son-in-la; unable to take care of herself, she depends on them for everything, including interpreting what she wants, as she can only say “ba-ba-ba-ba.”

I watched Faina that day, how expressive her face was, how intently she watched the children in the pool, calling our attention to anything that could be danger. She held our hand with both of hers as she babbled, trying her hardest to communicate something to us. The love that shined in her eyes and the warm smile communicated more to us than if she spoke Russian to us. She was full of hugs and warmth for all of us, no matter who we were.

It was the second time that I was in her presence that it hit me; I was in the presence of who would have been my “enemy” twenty years earlier. This poor, pathetic, helpless, old woman. What was shocking to me was that she was a human being; she lived her life during those difficult years, raised a family. She was taught to hate me just as much as I hated her, hated the idea of her. Yet she was nothing but loving, and it was to that love that I responded with my own. Had she been stand offish or grumpy or hostile in her attitude, I would have expected that, and I wouldn’t have shown her love. But she was the exacct opposite of every expectation that I had, and my world rocked.

Our “enemies” are people, they live their lives, they have to go shopping and provide for the family, keep home, raise children, have good days and bad days. They hurt, they cry, they laugh, they have parties and funerals, they bleed red just like I do. And they hear the propaganda from their governments, just like I do, and most likely hate us just as much as we hate them, but with what cause?

What right do I have to hate? Because my government tells me people living in a certain area are my enemy? Because we are at war with certain people? Because I don’t like how the people in power spew with their venom? Because I don’t like the stereotypical personalities?

Yesterday I visited Faina in ICU. She’s dying slowly, no longer able to communicate. Hopefully she will wake up from her coma, but her quality of life has deteriorated immensly. I said my good byes, hoping that we will see each other in heaven and continue to share the love of friendship that began here between two enemies.

But that is not the end of the story. Svetlana is not sure her mother ever accepted Jesus as her Savior. She never showed an understanding of what a personal relationship with God meant. She relied on her orthodox prayers from her prayer book. Svetlana wants to have an assurance that her mother understands and accepts what Jesus has done for her. She shared with me her story, how it was prohibited in the Soviet Union to talk about Jesus, to share anything with anybody about religion, Christianity, faith, etc. And then peristroika came, and the missionaries came to the country, and the very first time she heard the gospel message, she knew it was Truth, and she prayed to receive Christ as her Savior. She commented that she was ready, was prepared for the truth and received it without any hesitations. God had been preparing her, even though she had never heard of Jesus before.

And now I pray for her mother Faina, that she will wake up, that Svetlana will have an opportunity to share with her and that she will be receptive to hearing the message. Time is running out, yet God is the God of miracles, and He can do it. Please, God, please save Faina, so that she can share eternal life with You forever. Save my enemy-friend, who taught me to love my enemies.