Gifts that COVID Gave Me: How I left Ukraine to avoid getting COVID, got it anyway, and what I gained

SIDE BY SIDE

Why is it sometimes hard to admit to having COVID? Charley and I first encountered this reticence among our Ukrainian friends where we serve as missionaries in suburban Kyiv. One Sunday in September a man in our small group sent out a prayer request saying, “I have been sick. Please pray for my wife, who is still sick.” She was hospitalized on Thursday and died on Saturday. The word “coronavirus” was never mentioned but understood, and we were all stunned by this news. Nina was suddenly gone, with no chance to say good-bye. Her family wasn't even allowed to see her body. Another friend in our small group developed COVID symptoms but was reluctant for me to ask others to pray for her. She recovered, thankfully.

I was leading a study of the Gospel of Mark in our home on Wednesdays. We met cautiously, masked up and sometimes under blankets near the open windows. We had great gospel conversations, and a woman who had never studied the Bible before was beginning to understand who Jesus is. One evening we talked about Jesus’ power to heal and wrestled with the times when he doesn’t. Nina’s daughter was there that night, exhibiting an acceptance of her mother’s death that showed a profound trust in God and hope in the resurrection.

Rising Numbers and Tough Questions

The virus was still raging and some in my Bible study became ill. After four weeks we began meeting on Zoom. By early October, the Ukrainian ministry of health was projecting that case numbers would double and even triple in the coming weeks, and the health care system was being overwhelmed. (Cases actually increased fivefold by December.) Many people disregarded health protocols, and we felt increasingly uncomfortable being near anyone and awkward about declining invitations. Charley has some underlying health conditions that put him at greater risk. We would probably have to put ourselves in quarantine.

The prospect of a long winter in isolation was dreadful. What would happen if one of us got COVID and needed to be hospitalized? Who would look after us if we were both ill at home? How much of a burden would this place on our friends? Worst case scenario, in case of death abroad, what would be the impact on our family and our mission agency? We checked our travel insurance regarding, to be blunt, repatriation of remains. That was a nightmare to be avoided, if possible.

We began to wonder if we should leave. We had stayed in Ukraine for the first seven months of the pandemic and were glad we had, but things were changing now. If we could never see anybody and were working entirely online, what was the point in being there? We could continue our ministry online from the U.S. and at least see our family. There were practical considerations related to housing and financial costs. We consulted with our mission leadership and prayed. When friends offered to sublet our house in Ukraine, that made it possible for us to leave. The College Church board of missions sprang into action and quickly found a place for us to live in Glen Ellyn, available at the right price and at the right time. Things that usually take months to arrange fell into place in a few days.

We left Ukraine on October 15, breathing a sigh of relief. We went straight to Texas so we could see my mom in the nursing home, which was finally allowing limited visits. It had been a hard year for her as a new widow with no in-person contact with family for seven months. She had COVID in July and recovered alone. I longed to see her. When we arrived at DFW, my brother handed us car keys and sent us to settle into an empty condo that had miraculously opened up a few days before, directly above my sister’s place. We could quarantine there, get tested after a few days, and then be allowed to see Mom.

On October 18, feeling fine, I went to the drive-through testing site and a few hours later got the stunning result: positive for SARS-CoV-2. Charley tested positive the next day. Within a few days I felt awful, with crashing headaches, muscle aches, debilitating fatigue. I could focus for an hour or two but then brain fog would set in. Charley had some trouble breathing and used his nebulizer, which he travels with because of asthma. Temperature checks and readings of our oxygen levels became part of our morning routine. We had vastly different symptoms, but the one thing we had in common was that neither of us ever had a fever.

I slept a lot, listened to audiobooks and Scripture and music, and read encouraging notes from concerned friends. We managed a few Zoom meetings. My wonderful sister brought food to our door, and we chatted with her from the outdoor balcony. A niggling fear was that one of us would suddenly take a dive and need emergency medical attention. Another fear was that I might have passed the virus on to someone in my family during the brief contact we had. When they all tested negative, I was greatly relieved. Just when I thought I was rounding the corner, a cough appeared but never got very bad. Charley meanwhile tested negative. I still tested positive after a couple weeks, waited some more, and finally got a negative test result. At last, I was able to see my mom through a window at the nursing home, welling up with tears as we talked on the phone. I had one visit with her in person before she was under quarantine again. Then Charley and I drove to Illinois and moved into our temporary home on November 10.

Gifts that COVID Gave Me

What do I do with the fact that we left Ukraine to escape COVID, only to unknowingly carry it with us? We got on a plane in good conscience but did not in fact avoid becoming ill. God had different plans for us. Many gifts have come as a result of this experience. Some are clear now, and I think others will unfold as time goes on. I’ll mention a few.

Receiving grace and having my faith bolstered.

God gave us everything we needed before we knew we needed it, evidence of his tender care and grace. He whisked us out of the country, provided a place for us to stay in Texas where we were well cared for and not a risk to others and restored our health. This story is for me a stone of remembrance.

Spending Christmas with our daughters without worrying about the virus.

Two of our adult daughters live in the Wheaton area, and the other two came from out of state to spend the Christmas holidays with us. Being together without the fear of contracting or transmitting the virus was liberating. Long hugs and long conversations were possible. Debriefing life in person during a tough year has been an immense gift. They’re thankful we came back, and so are we.

Caring for Charley’s father.

We both recently tested sky high for SARS CoV-2 antibodies so are not a risk to others at this time. We flew to Florida in January to spend time with Charley’s dad who lives alone, giving his part-time caregiver a break. We could take care of him, work online and even enjoy walks on the beach.

Not freaking out all the time.

I remember that unwelcome tension of wondering if someone was six feet away and the dread of possibly passing on the virus to the vulnerable people in my life. That’s gone.

Learning to trust God, no matter what.

“Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit’— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that’” (James 4:13-15). We are frail, we are finite, and we cannot control what will happen tomorrow. But we can wholly rely on God—whether we fall ill or not—and he will fulfill his purposes for us. Charley and I look forward to returning to Ukraine in the spring, Lord willing.

About the Author | Cheryl Warner

Writing from Wheaton these days, Cheryl also is a small group leader in Women's Bible Study as she and husband, Charley, look forward to returning to Ukraine.