Elena is a dear friend from my home church, Redeemer United Methodist Church in DeWitt, Michigan. She recently wrote the story shown below, which illustrates how her faith in God and especially Jesus Christ has led her to where she now resides--safe in His arms for now and all eternity. I hope you will enjoy reading this. -Jack
Elena Hempsted writes the personal story of her and her brother’s escape from communist Romania in search of freedom. But, through Christ, she found a freedom not restricted by borders or walls, a freedom available to everyone who believes in Jesus.
I would like to take you back to 1989. Try to remember what your life was like or what season of life you were experiencing that year. Maybe you were within a short time of retirement or maybe graduation. Maybe you were mourning a loss or maybe you were celebrating something important in your life or in the life of a loved one. Maybe you were faced with a career change or the purchase of a new home. Whatever you were going through, somehow you were faced with making decisions that affected where you are today. Every turn we take on life’s path consequently affects our destination.
Elena Hempsted once thought the biggest decision of her life was escaping the communist country of Romania. But her biggest decision came later ... when she accepted Jesus Christ as her Savior.
For me, the decision I made in 1989 affected, I thought, every aspect of my life. I was 17 years old, living with my parents and two older brothers in a very remote village in communist Romania. Our house was in a peaceful valley, across from a beautiful, crystal-clear river and surrounded by mountains. The nearest neighbor was several miles away. Our friends were the shepherds traveling north through our valley with their flocks, dogs and donkeys.
Besides walking to school just over three miles one way every day, my life was filled with the regular chores of life on the farm: bailing hay, milking cows, weeding vegetable gardens and cutting wood -- just to name a few.
Needless to say, life on the farm knew no holiday besides the regular Sunday church service at our Eastern Orthodox Church. My mother was a devout woman, a great prayer warrior. Late in the evening hours and very early in the morning when everyone else was still sleeping, you would find her on her knees in the kitchen reciting her prayers and reading her Psalms. I was so amazed as a kid how she could spend sometimes two hours with her knees on that hardwood floor. I struggled to understand why she always did that, and also it intimidated me into thinking that that was the only way you can get to know God.
The Orthodox Church was so filled with traditions and rituals that I would leave church every Sunday a little more confused. I wanted so badly to have what I thought my mom had, but I could not see God through the cluster of traditions. I had so many questions and as I was seeking answers, I seemed to hit a wall built on years of rigid rituals.
Even though religion was prohibited by the communist government, attending the Orthodox Church was tolerated for the most part. But there was a very small percentage of people meeting secretly in each other’s homes and studying the Bible – this was a practice unaccepted and ridiculed by the church and government. These small groups of people were perceived as cults, and we were warned to stay away from them.
Besides the strict structure of religion, communist Romania was secluded from any outside influences. It had extreme laws about what people could do or say. People weren’t allowed to listen to radio stations from the neighboring countries, and anyone caught doing so would pay dearly.
People were known to go to jail for the simplest daily freedoms that we enjoy today. Even buying groceries, we were limited to the amount allotted by the government for our family. Because the rules were so rigid, a lot of people learned how to get around them by bribing the officials to get their way or stealing from the government.
I was in my early teens when I knew that there had to be another way of life, and it became my passion to find a way out. Many people tried to leave Romania and got caught. They ended up in prison and others were killed. Even though I didn’t have anything to compare it with, the idea of living in freedom consumed my thoughts.
I was 17 when my 19-year-old brother, Costel, and I decided to try getting out of the country. Unfortunately we didn’t make it; we got caught, and my brother was severely beaten by the officials. By the grace of God, they decided not to touch me because I was under 18 and considered a minor. My brother, because he was older, was forced to take responsibility for me as well.
A few months later, we made a better plan. Traveling for a couple of weeks on foot through the snowy mountains, we successfully made it to the Danube, the largest river in Europe, and crossed it in an inflatable boat. Without any food left and with raggedy clothing, we were blessed by the help of different people who helped us get to a safe country.
On foot and with rides, we traveled from Romania through Yugoslavia, Austria, Germany and France before we finally settled in Spain. We lived on the streets of Madrid for a while and got hired as laborers. After learning the language, we found better jobs and adapted to this new life.
Because of the political status in Romania, we were accepted to come to the United States a couple of years later and were ready to start our new lives -- the lives that we had dreamed of. Starting in a new place with a new language and culture wasn’t easy; however, within a year we could see the great opportunities that this country had to offer.
Cluttered by my limited understanding of who God was, I struggled for years after coming to the United States, trying to find Him. I would visit church after church and even found myself returning to the traditions of the Orthodox Church, only to leave as empty as I came.
It didn’t take me long after coming here to fall into the trap of the so-called “American dream.” I was chasing after the nice brick house, the Mercedes and all that came with “the good life,” only to discover the greatest emptiness of all.
A divorce and a daughter later, God got a hold of my heart -- over a decade ago now --and turned my life upside down. I will always remember the moment I realized that the big hole in my heart could not be filled by anything else; it was meant for God.
From the little valley surrounded by shepherds where I grew up, to being homeless on the streets of Madrid and finally crossing the ocean to the greatest of lands where I experienced the finer things in life – it was an attempt to find freedom. But no matter how hard I tried, I could not escape the emptiness that came from within.
After hearing a message in an evangelical church, I responded to a call, a call that God wanted me to answer before I even left Romania but could not hear it over the loudness of my own ambitions. I found true freedom that day when I opened the door of my heart to Christ’s knock. Freedom could not be found across another border, another country or another church; it was always there within my reach.
How could I have been so blind? How couldn’t I know? He was always with me, but I couldn’t see Him. He gave me the strength, and He protected me when I was questioning His existence.
My friend, look no further than into your own heart. God doesn’t live in churches or in free countries; His home is in our hearts. Wherever you find yourself today, don’t seek to change your circumstances first, but seek Him and open the door to your heart – He is always there knocking. Then He will change you from the inside out. He will remove your blinders and take you for the ride of your life.
The decision I made in 1989 only changed the temporary residency where I’ll live for 70 or 80 years, if I am so blessed; but the decision that I made in 1999 to let Jesus take permanent residency of my heart changed my eternity!!