On April 19, 1995, the unthinkable happened. Terrorism, in unparalleled  proportion, hit Oklahoma City, USA. America sat glued to the television, watching the aftermath of the bombing of the Murrah Federal Building. What the world saw, from one single act, was unbelievable...like a face being ripped off, half of the building was gone. What was left, once again, was more death and carnage. More bloody people, some staggering, some being carried. Then the reports started coming in…surely, they had to be wrong, they just had to be. The reports made the unbelievable claim that a daycare center was in the building, street side, at ground zero. It was true. It was full. There were more bloody children, many dead children, as well as adults. Mayhem and panic were in control. Once again, Stephanie, sat on her couch, stunned, watching, weeping.

Stephanie Blackstone, a registered nurse, spent years working with the homebound. She mixed chemotherapy drugs without the knowledge of damage, from the drugs, happening to herself. As a result, in 1991, Stephanie became disabled with cardiomyopathy, and congestive heart failure. The doctors told her she would die within a couple of years.

She was not only heavily burdened for the suffering of the innocent, she was waging an inner war. Sitting there watching the suffering on television, Stephanie was wracked with guilt for what she had not done. As a healthy person, she went on with her daily life, doing her job as a nurse. “But there was so much more I could…I should have done, when I had the chance.” But there she sat, unable to bring her lifesaving abilities to the wounded. “While I sat and watched Oklahoma City, I cried out to God and said, ‘Lord, if you ever heal my heart, I will go to the first crisis you show me.’”  In 1996, God took the offer. He healed her heart, much to the amazement of the doctors, and herself. 

By a seemingly strange set of circumstances, God showed Stephanie that He needed her in, of all places, Russia. She went with a small group, taking humanitarian aid to orphans.

With no more food than potato water, sometimes for extended periods, the children were seriously malnourished. Their clothes were rags. Having only these rags as diapers for the infants, many slept in wet pants and wet beds. Over all, the children were in poor health. There she was, doing what God told her he needed. But she wasn’t ready for what she was looking at. Once again, Stephanie found herself crushed, weeping.

“God, I can’t do this. My efforts will only last for a moment. These conditions are too hopeless; I can’t make a difference here. When I’m gone, who will feed them tomorrow? I’m giving them false hope, and that is cruel.” Stephanie was seeing with her eyes, Goliath was in the camp. Goliath owned the camp. Wearing a defeated spirit like an overcoat, Stephanie went home.

Then came the reports the next winter – six infants, in their wet beds, froze to death, as the orphanage had no heat. Slingshot in hand, David arose. “The battle is not mine, but the Lord’s!” she declared.

The clarion was sounded. “To battle!” was the cry. With no concept of what was to come, Stephanie, at God’s Hand, began to organize a new assault on the enemy. This would be an all out offensive, no defense in this game plan. As a start, there was a call for money to buy coal for the orphanage. Hopefully, enough money would be raised to provide heat for a month.  The Lord provided…a month’s worth? No, God makes no small plans. He bought several train cars full of coal. A month? How about more than the whole winter could handle?

It is amazing what one can see, and how things look, when one looks through the Spirit, instead of through the eyes. “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the LORD of hosts.” Zech 4:6. Thus began a most unlikely story.