Voice of Ukraine

From Ira Kapitonova (Day 589):

Oh that you would slay the wicked, O God!
O men of blood, depart from me!
Psalm 139:19

Imagine a small, quiet village. There were about 500 residents before the war and about 300 now. The village survived Russian occupation, and even though the front line remains relatively close (about 40 km or 25 miles), the people were slowly returning to ordinary lives. Back in the spring of 2022, a soldier from that village was killed in action. He couldn’t be buried in his hometown due to occupation. Months went by. The family (his wife and son, who was also in the army) could finally arrange the reburial and planned a wake at a local cafeteria that shares a building with a small grocery store. If you grew up in a village, you usually know pretty much everyone, so naturally, people of all households came to this memorial service at the cafeteria to pay their respects. They say there were about 60 people inside when a Russian missile came. It was a clear and precise hit that completely destroyed the building and killed 51 people (including the wife, the son, and the daughter-in-law of the reburied soldier). Three people are still missing, and six are in a hospital with severe wounds.

This was the most massive and cruel terrorist attack of this year. This evil is beyond me. How can you choose and wipe out over 50 lives at once, including the life of a 6-year-old? How can you live after you erase 15% of the village’s population with one strike? Well, these questions may sound horrendous to me and you, but I’m sure that those who planned the Bucha Massacre, Izium executions, and dozens of other terrorist attacks have no problem answering them.

I quickly glanced at the pictures from this village with a beautiful (and perhaps prophetic) name – Hroza (which means Thunderstorm in Ukrainian). Bodies, bodies, and more bodies lying around, like a scene from a horror movie. Most pictures had blurred sections, which only intensified the realization of how horrible of a site it was. It felt as if the utmost evil, the death itself, was physically present there.

The most shocking part is that the sun will rise again tomorrow, and we will have breakfast, go to work, and continue living our lives, trying to maintain our sanity because the time does not stand still.

Today, I am not praying for human justice. I am praying for the Lord’s vengeance.
Vengeance is mine, and recompense,
for the time when their foot shall slip;
for the day of their calamity is at hand,
and their doom comes swiftly.

For the Lord will vindicate his people
and have compassion on his servants,
when he sees that their power is gone
and there is none remaining, bond or free.
Deuteronomy 32:35-36