WHEN WE UNEXPECTEDLY ARRIVED IN THE USA,

WHEN WE UNEXPECTEDLY ARRIVED IN THE USA, one of my main adaptation goals here was to find a church. Not a Ukrainian one, but specifically an American one - so I could immerse myself in the language, assimilate faster, and start living. A church that would become a spiritual guide and a close-knit community. I felt uprooted, so finding the right soil while my sprouts hadn’t completely withered yet was extremely important.

Larry helped us find different churches and ministries, often driving with us as a guide from one place to another. Each time, it felt somewhat close to what I was looking for, but I couldn’t feel that it was MY church. You know that feeling when you open the door, and the smell of home just hits you? And then the people no longer seem like strangers, and their smiles don’t feel forced or like they’re just playing kindness.

And so, in May 2022, I went to Real Life for the first time. Someone had told us there was another church in Clermont that Margo and I hadn’t yet visited.

To be honest, I had driven past it every time I was in that part of town. A huge building, more like a local airport, sitting on top of a hill, didn’t at all look like a church to me.

That first day’s service had several thousand people. I think it was the second service of the day, but I wouldn’t swear to it. The church lobby was buzzing with people, and I felt a little lost since my social battery, after the first months of war and evacuation, was badly drained. Its charge was enough only for “Good afternoon” and “Thank you for supporting Ukraine.”

Somehow, he must have sensed this, because he approached us very gently. It was Pastor Gospel - a young Black man, very friendly - who carefully started a conversation and led us to the third row of the giant church auditorium.

A minute later, the lights went out, stage fog rolled in, enveloping me among thousands of other believers, and the worship team came on stage. Through the haze, I couldn’t make out the lead singer’s face, but his voice went straight through me. I burst into tears in the first seconds and felt the Spirit literally hug me and say, “I’m here.”

That far-right seat in the third row became MY seat for the whole next year, and I couldn’t bring myself to move. Because it was THERE that I felt that presence.

And later, I found out whose voice had touched me so deeply that day and made me feel the ground under my feet again - it was Daniel Mitchell’s voice.

Much later, I began serving in the church - first at the Connect Center, then eventually in the Production Team - and even later, I met him in person.

And just this Friday, he gathered 50 of his friends, some of whom didn’t even know each other, to say “Thank you” for the support he had once needed.

He organized a truly special evening for all of us, but in turn, I also have a “Thank you” for him. Because on that very day in May 2022, Christ spoke to me through his voice and said: “I’m here.”

I hope Daniel’s “retirement” won’t last long, and that soon we’ll hear his new album - and after that, see him on the Grammy stage.

P.S. Thank you - and now, on my to-do list, there’s an item to watch “Stepbrothers” to get the party reference.

Nata Che