It has been almost 31 years since I traveled to Romania to adopt our daughter Errin. Our family would not be complete without her!!! Our adoption story will be a series of many posts for another time, but today my focus is on finding LIGHT even when we are in situations beyond our control – especially when that involves being in a dangerous foreign country. Other than a day in Vancouver, Canada and a day in Tijuana, Mexico as a child, I had never traveled outside of the United States and had never needed a passport. Tensions were high in many places of the world in 1991. The Gulf War had just ended, and things were not looking good in what used to be the country of Yugoslavia – now Bosnia and Herzegovina, Kosovo, Macedonia, Montenegro, Serbia and Slovenia.

I will never forget how terrified I was as I walked onto that airplane in Salt Lake City, Utah, praying and hoping I would return home safely with our baby girl. As we pray for the people of Ukraine, these are the thoughts that came rushing back into my mind from 31 years ago.

Steph was five, and we had not been able to have any more children. It was at this time the plight of the children in Romania had blown up in the press, and the horrid living conditions they experienced in the State Run Romanian Orphanage System – also a post for another day. Ron had just changed jobs and money was tight, but after seeing a family in our church bring back a little girl, we BOTH knew this was what we were supposed to do.

It took almost exactly nine months from the time we started the process to the day she was placed in my arms – months longer than most Romanian International adoptions had been taking. We couldn’t figure out WHY things were taking so long – but soon came to realize things happen in the Lord’s timing, not our own. Errin was always meant to be ours, and the stars had to align perfectly for this miracle to take place.

Each day, each hour, each minute was carefully orchestrated by heaven’s ministering angels on both sides of the veil – and they were busy!

Ron and I had always felt three children would complete our family. We had done our paperwork and been approved to adopt two children. The red tape from the United States Government, in addition to the corrupt Romanian Government was staggering, not to mention ever-changing. We took it one day at a time, and did our best to complete all the forms necessary to make this happen. Satan did not want us to bring these children home, and did all he could to discourage us from day one to the day we got back on that plane in Bucharest for our return flight.

We did not know an exact date for our departure, and had to be ready at a moment’s notice to leave. Two weeks prior to that phone call, I went to the doctor because I had not been feeling well at all and needed to get that under control before I left. Much to everyone’s surprise, none more than my own, he told me I was expecting!!! I have to admit, I burst into tears – not because I didn’t want to have this child – but rather because based on my first pregnancy with Steph, I KNEW how sick I would be. My doctor advised me NOT to go to Romania, and told me I would be putting my life, and my unborn child’s life in danger. But I KNEW I had a baby in Romania who was supposed to be in our family, and even if it killed me, I would put my FAITH in my Heavenly Father, and in His Son Jesus Christ and I would accomplish the difficult task ahead. Adoptions in Romania were not going well, and we were told we would be lucky if we got one child and not to count of getting two. I was now ok with that. I could not imagine how I would manage with three babies at the same time in addition to a five-year-old!

By the way, that five-year-old was the BEST help I could have asked for, and such a blessing!!!

Just as I expected, I threw up every single day of that pregnancy including the day I had that big ten pound boy! The only thing I could keep down were those pink wintergreen lozenge candies that taste like Pepto Bismol. I took as many bags of that candy as I could with me to Romania, and that’s pretty much all I kept down for the three weeks I was there. Even when it didn’t stay down, it tasted similar coming back up so that was a plus! As I side note, Tyler LOVES those candies!!! I think he became addicted to them in utero. We decided NOT to tell Val and Nancy Cocairu, the people who were helping us that I was pregnant, because we didn’t want it to jeopardize us getting Errin adopted in Romania. By the way I had never met them, they lived in Michigan, and I had only talked to Nancy over the phone. Val was busy in Romania trying to get as many kids adopted out as possible. I was putting my complete TRUST in the Lord, and in these strangers who have now become family. If this was meant to be, the Lord would make it happen.

The phone call came as we walked in the door from spending Memorial Day in Morgan with Ron’s family – it was 8:00 at night here in Utah. Things in Romania were anything but stable. Adoptions had been on then off over and over for months, and we were told we had to have our papers submitted to the Romanian Courts before June 1st. That meant we had to leave the next day in order for that to happen, and there were only two flights a week going into Romania. Our carefully laid out plan went into action. It had been decided at the beginning that Ron would need to stay home with Steph and work, and my dad would go with me. I called our travel agent who had given us permission to call her anytime day or night. She called me back and our tickets were booked for the following day at noon. We had to pick them up at the American Express building in Salt Lake as soon as they opened. The days of digital tickets and the internet were not a thing yet. We had also been told we needed a gamma-globulin shot before we could enter the country. We met our pediatrician at his office the next morning at 8:00 and he had the shots ready for us. They looked and felt like Elmer’s glue going in, and made for a memorable flight – not to mention the morning sickness I was already dealing with. We got to the airport, where I tearfully said goodbye to Ron and my sweet Stephie - who had been my daily companion for the past five years, and I got on that plane. With tears streaming down my face, I looked out the window and couldn’t help but wonder if I was making a mistake? What if I didn’t make it back home?

Was it fair to sacrifice so much with the possibility of Steph not growing up with a mother? Would my unborn child be ok? I memorized the view of the city as we took off, hoping our return would be quick!

We flew to Dallas/Fort Worth Texas where we were to board another plane for Frankfurt, Germany. Have you ever heard someone paged at the airport and wondered why they do that? This was in the early days of cell phones, and I did not have one, and neither did any of the people helping us here in Utah OR in Romania. Suddenly I heard “Leslie Johnson, please pick up the white paging phone.” No Way?!!!! After all we had been through?!!!! I kept telling myself someone was calling to tell me it was still ok to come, and they were giving me instructions. Sadly, this was NOT the case. Val’s wife Nancy was calling to say the baby was no longer available, things in Romania were too dangerous for me to go, and I needed to go back home. She said the government official who was translating and validating our papers, had seen a Romanian propaganda video showing that American’s were adopting Romanian orphans to bring back and use for human organ transplants. I have NEVER felt Satan’s influence so strong in my life!!! The hair on the back of my neck was standing up, and I felt like I was being suffocated. I asked Nancy to hold on for a minute, we had a quick prayer, and the overwhelming feeling I received was to continue on to Romania. I told Nancy we were not going home, to have someone at the airport to meet us as planned, and SOMEHOW I would make this happen!!! Nancy burst into tears and told me it was too dangerous, but I was firm in my conviction. I KNEW if I went home, the opportunity would be lost for good. I asked her to call home and let everyone know what was going on. Nancy called her Roman Orthodox Priest and he started praying and lighting candles for us!!! She called the Romanian Ambassador in Washington D.C. and begged him to intervene in our behalf. Family and friends here at home began praying and fasting for us. We landed in Frankfurt, transferred to another plane bound for Istanbul, Turkey – and then back up to Bucharest, Romania. These were the longest flights of my life!!!! Each time we took off and landed I got sicker and sicker. Also, it was legal to smoke on airplanes back then, and the back of the plane where the restrooms were was so thick with smoke you could hardly see through it.

We had to stay on the plane in Istanbul because we didn’t have a Visa to enter the country. Armed guards came on board and searched the plane for bombs while we were in our seats, the ONLY passengers STILL on the plane. When we were FINALLY cleared for take-off there were only eight of us on the plane. Those who had already gotten off asked why we were going to Romania, and told us it was a terrible place and we should not go there. The closer we got, the FREEDOM I had felt on American soil was quickly waning. I had tried to gear up and imagine what it would be like, but nothing came close to actually living through the fear and uncertainty of the next three weeks. It was a short flight from Istanbul to Bucharest, and it was still daylight when we landed.

Our plane was met on the runway by a military tank with its gun barrel pointed directly at our plane. We were told to stay seated as Romanian soldiers armed with machine guns entered the plane and escorted us off with their guns in our backs. This is stuff I had only seen in movies or on the news. I quickly became fearful that I would NEVER see the rest of my family ever again – but held on as tight as I could to that little stream of blind FAITH and LIGHT that had brought me to this point of the journey.

As I stepped off the plane, I will never forget the overwhelming smell that seemed to permeate the entire country, and it was anything but pleasant. I never got used to it. They loaded us on a bus parked on the tarmac where I pulled my camera out to take a picture of the tank, and was quickly told “NO PICTURES!!!!!” – only after I had already snapped one they didn’t know of. I wasn’t even sure if I had gotten it or not.

We were taken back to the airport building where we were separated and bodily frisked. Everyone we met wanted to see our papers, and asked why we were there, and it was evident they were NOT happy to welcome us to their country. I was carrying the majority of the cash on me, $15,000 in $100’s, $50’s, and $20’s as we had been instructed to bring. My dad had the rest, $5,000 in his belt and a money pouch tucked into his pants. The guards were too busy frisking me to discover the money I had hidden under my layers of clothing. I’ve never felt so violated in my life, and there was nothing I could do about it.

We went from one set of guards to the next on our way through the airport. But the last set were much nicer than any of the rest. They told us to be very careful after they let us through the jail-like bars, and not to let go of any of our bags or they would be gone. We walked through and men immediately surrounded us yelling in my face, “You want baby? I have baby, I sell you!!!!” They started grabbing at our baggage and boxes and wanting to give us rides, they kept trying to take our bags, one started carrying our large duffel bag away. I yelled at my dad who ran after him and got it back while I sat down and sprawled out on the rest of it trying to keep it safe. All I could think of is, what if Nancy couldn’t get in touch with anyone to come get us? Do they even know we are here?

Just as my dad got back with the bag, I saw a man, whose name was Florine and sent by Val, holding a sign that said “Mr. Leslie & John”. Looking back, this was one of the MANY miracles that transpired over the following three weeks. Florine loaded all our things into and on top of his old “Dacia” car (the car driven by the majority of people at that time in Romania) that had no backseat, and big rusted out holes in the floor that you could see the road through. I had to sit behind the two front seats on the floor, with my feet propped against the front seat to hold it up. We stayed that night with Florine and his wife. I had been running on fumes for hours and was so sick to my stomach. We ate some weird tasting soup, and I fell asleep in a chair that had some heavily scented moth-ball smelling sheets on it. I must have been pretty tired because I don’t remember much of that night. I had one prayer that I silently prayed before, and during this crazy adventure – please let us get the baby, please keep us safe, please get us home soon, and please bless me not to throw up in a public place – especially not in an airplane bathroom. The last part of that prayer was a close one on more than one occasion, but Heavenly Father blessed us with each of those desires!

Florine woke us up early, it was still very dark outside. He had train tickets for us to get to Galati (pronounced Ga-lotz), and we were evidently late! There were many times I felt as though we were being watched or followed, and I’m not usually paranoid like that. There was never a time I felt safe while we were there. It was a five hour train ride which turned out to be a lovely experience with a Romanian woman who spoke fluent English – again a post for another day.

The apartment in Galatz, of Nic (Val’s brother) and Rodika (pronounced – Row-dee-ka . . . Nic’s girlfriend) where we were supposed to stay, had been ransacked by the secret police the week before we got there. It was not safe for us to go there. Rodika’s daughter Elena, who was also a pediatrician in Galatz, picked us up from the train station. Elena and my dad told me to wait with the bags, and they would come get me. Just as they were walking away, I saw a man in a black overcoat and black fedora hat duck behind a column very near me. I left the bags and ran calling after Elena and my dad, they told me to stay, and I said no. No one else was around, it was just the three of us and the mysterious man. So my dad came back with me while Elena got the car. I was so scared I didn’t tell them about the man until we were in the car. Elena said it was probably the secret police, and that we needed to be careful. She said we needed to hurry, but that we could make a quick stop to the apartment where we would be staying. We dropped our bags off, I threw-up in the toilet that was broken, and we were off again. Elena drove us straight to the Tribunal (court house) where her mother Rodika was waiting for us. Rodika took me down a dark stairway into the basement of a smoke filled hallway. It felt like a world war two movie. We stood in line for a while, and then she took me in to meet with the woman who had refused to translate and stamp our documents. She was extremely upset and had been, and was obviously not happy to see me!!! She stamped the papers, threw them at me. I found out after we returned home, she had just barely hung up with the Romanian Ambassador in Washington D.C. The one Nancy called after she called her Priest to pray for us. The ambassador told this woman she would be fired if she did not complete our paperwork. He was literally on the phone with her as we were walking into the building; that is why we had to wait so long in the hallway. Rodika hurried me back out to the car before the lady could change her mind, and we were on our way to stay at the alternative apartment that would hopefully be safer. The date? June 1st! We had just made the deadline to submit our adoption papers to the Romanian courts. Another prayer answered, another miracle performed, another crisis averted – but there would be many more to come over the next three weeks.

On Christmas Day 1989, Nicolae Ceausescu (pronounced Chow-chess-que) was overthrown and executed along with his wife. Ceausescu was an evil man with Hitler-like intentions of building a mighty army comprised of people with no physical imperfections. Birth control was against the law, and women were fined if they did not produce children to contribute to the cause. State run orphanages were built to take care of the children whose families were too poor to keep them. Children were given assessments at different ages and only the purest ones moved on through the system.

Those with ANY imperfection at all, including birthmarks were banished to the barbaric conditions of the orphanages in the Carpathian Mountains, never to be seen or heard from again – until 20/20, the news program, got wind of them. Shortly after the government crumbled, the conditions of these orphanages were leaked to the press, and it became a world-wide goal to help the Romanian children. Romania had been under communistic rule from 1947-1989. Things don’t change overnight. This became extremely obvious to me when our airplane landed in May of 1991. We could see remnants of grand estates, and parks that had once been amazing, but most had fallen into disrepair and abandoned. I have not been back since we left and actually have no desire, however; my sister has been a couple of times and raved about how wonderful it is. I’ll just be happy to take her word for it, those three weeks were pretty traumatic for me.

This has been a long introduction to get to the point of today’s post, but I felt it necessary to get some background and history of a country who has spent over thirty years climbing out of the darkness into the LIGHT!

A country that borders Ukraine, separated only by the Danube River. We walked along that river many times and watched the ferry come in as it transported people back and forth from Ukraine to Romania, most appeared to suffer from severe poverty.

As the situation in the Ukraine has escalated to dire circumstances for so many innocent citizens, thoughts of a dark Romania have come rushing back to me. One thing that quickly stood out to me after I had been there less than 24 hours, was the stark contrast between LIGHT and dark! There seemed to be no middle ground. People were either REALLY good and had the LIGHT of Christ shining in their eyes, or they were REALLY bad, and their eyes were cold dark holes filled with evil. As children of God, most of us are drawn to the LIGHT, and I yearned for LIGHT while I was there. It didn’t take me long to find it! These were the days that people would wake up at 2:00 in the morning to go out and stand in lines for food and supplies. Most of the time they didn’t know what they were even standing in line for, they just knew they needed whatever was at the end of that line.

It might be toilet paper that felt more like 40 grit sand paper than Charmin. It might be milk that tasted sour. It might be butter that was rancid. But whatever it was, they were grateful, and it brought LIGHT into their lives!!!! I think back of Lucci (pronounced Lew-chee) and Manole (pronounced Man-oh-lay . . . Elena’s brother) whom we stayed with in Galatz.

They lived in the tiniest apartment I’ve EVER seen, on the ground floor of one of the large cement apartment complexes common to Eastern European countries. The entire thing would easily fit in my kitchen alone.

It had two small bedrooms, an even smaller kitchen, and a tiny bathroom – that did not work. It didn’t matter when I saw her, Lucci was ALWAYS happy!!!

Nic and Rodika took care of all our expenses from the money we gave them. They told us, they paid Lucci and Manole $40 a day for us to stay there, in addition to our food. Rodika told me most Romanian’s made $40 per month, so to make that much in a day was such a blessing for this little family!

Lucci worked her fingers to the bone taking care of us. She got up every morning at 2:00 to go stand in line for our food, and she was happy to do it!!! She got to be home with her little boy! Normally, she would be doing the same thing for 30-40 men on a farm outside the city. I don’t know how she found food for that many people every day?!!!! I felt bad that she worked so hard for us, but marveled at how happy she was to ONLY have the three of us to look after, after we got Errin. I don’t think I ever saw her without a smile on her face. She had nothing, but was grateful for all she had!!! Her family was her world, and they were together!

My heart aches for the Ukrainian families who are being separated against their will. Yet, I see in many of their stories they are able to find some LIGHT in these dark circumstances. I see women who had to leave their husbands behind at the border, grateful they were able to get out safely with their children. In times of survival, looking too far into the future is too much to do and HOPE is easily lost. At times like this, it’s ok to bite off only what we can chew. That might mean taking things one minute at a time, one hour at a time, or if we’re brave – one day at a time. What I pray for these innocent people is that they will be able to catch glimpses of the LIGHT that is there and hold on tightly.

We have been promised that life will not always be easy. This is why we have been blessed with a never-ending supply of the Light of Christ within us to sustain us in our darkest hours, even when we feel all is lost, the LIGHT is ALWAYS there. This is hard to see when we are in the thick of trials and struggles. After the dust clears, and we look back, we see the miracles that took place, and the ministering angels sent to help us both in body and spirit.

So as things unfold, may we be grateful for the blessed land we live in, it is truly the Promised Land! Freedom is not free, it comes with great price.

May we NEVER forget. May we pray for the innocent people in the Ukraine whose lives will be forever changed. And yes, may we pray for Russia as well, the majority are in this against their will. May we show gratitude for those who have given so much for us to be free, some giving all. And may we always look for the LIGHT – then share it!

Love Ya, Les :)