It’s Never Too Late

My story can serve as a lesson for those on whose hearts the Lord is knocking, but who refuse to let Him into their hearts. My mother is a Chuvash, while my father was a Gypsy. My father was murdered when my mother was pregnant with me. I never met him. When I was born, my mother and I moved several times until we ended up in the Novosibirsk region. I was a quiet girl who went to school and played like all children – nothing special. When I was 17, a gypsy man asked me to marry him. I fell in love with him, and that choice ultimately broke my life. He turned out to be a drug addict, and later I also became addicted to drugs and started selling them. It was impossible to get out of that vicious circle. When I was expecting a baby and my child’s life was at risk, I prayed fervently for the first time in my life. But when my daughter died during childbirth, I was completely broken. I became angry with God; I committed the worst sins, and that’s when I ended up in prison for the first time. A Christian female in the pretrial detention facility spent much time praying and regularly reading the Bible. She intended to offer me a Bible, but I declined, saying that since God wasn’t helping me, there was no point in reading more books about him. I received a five-year prison sentence and was moved to penal colony number nine (IK-9) in Novosibirsk. During that time, things were hard; I frequently experienced hunger, and no one showed concern for me. This is the place where I first went to a Christian church service.

My friend enticed me by saying that everyone received humanitarian aid, personal hygiene products, tea, and cookies. However, you had to sit through the entire sermon to receive everything you needed. Half-listening, I heard that Jesus died for the sins of everyone, and it’s important to repent and believe in God, but I didn’t care about that then. During my time in prison, I received humanitarian aid multiple times, but I wasn’t going to believe in God. When I got out of prison, nobody wanted me. After that, I met a man. After a short time of living together, he kicked me out of his house. I returned to the Gypsies after wandering for a while. I started dealing drugs again. A little over a month after being released from prison, I got another prison term. In prison, I discovered that I was pregnant. My son entered the world while surrounded by barbed wire. I started corresponding with my future husband. He, too, was incarcerated and we were making plans together. He was a gypsy, and I was caught in the net again. This man was doing “big things” when we started living together when we got out. He dealt drugs in kilograms, and we ended up in prison. He received a 15-year prison sentence while I got 13.6 years. To me, it was the final stage of my life.

After a few years behind bars, I came to the realization that I was suffering from a severe illness. My condition deteriorated: I became thinner, felt unwell, and soon began experiencing bleeding and pus discharge. I deeply appreciate the girls who believed in God for praying for me, washing me and giving me everything I needed. It was at that time that I started to learn how to pray. Finally, I was transported to a hospital beyond the prison walls, where I received a diagnosis of terminal cancer. They couldn’t do anything to help me. I had no documents, just a certificate of release. I visited the family of my husband who was also my former accomplice, but they declined to support me. I was extremely nervous and ended up passing out. I woke up in a hospital and pleaded with them to keep me until the evening of that day. And in a moment of desperation, I recalled God and started to pray. I discovered the phone number of a Roma woman named Rubina in my phone book. She then called a Baptist named Sasha, who she said would help anyone. And indeed, Alexander responded and came to the hospital to pick me up. He recommended that I go to a hospice where I would have a roof over my head and good care. Alexander and I drove for more than an hour, and he told me about God, about Christ, about repentance, and about eternity. I had heard everything Alexander was telling me many times before from other Christians, but this time it seemed like I suddenly began to believe. I was amazed as nobody had helped me in my situation previously, but Alexander said God wanted me and told of the Gospel. I could not believe that I was being taken care of by complete stranger.” Natalia’s life was coming to an end on this earth, but it was then after destroying her life that God reached out to her.

Pastor Sasha continued his ministry to this lost and dying soul, and she was not to far gone for God. “That evening in hospice he sent me three videos on repentance. I listened to them all night long, replaying them over and over again. I still can’t sleep at night because of the hellish pain. By the time Alexander came, I had already made the decision to repent and surrender my life to God. Now I am with God, I have been forgiven, and I ask my Father to take me to Him speedily. I’m not afraid of death, as eternity is desirable to me now. I only wish I had believed in God earlier. But I guess that’s my path. My sisters come to visit me; they are so dear to me. My final days on earth are beautiful. I read the Psalms and listen to the sermons. My sisters and Alexander provide everything I need. Maybe when you read this letter, I will already be with my Heavenly Father, most likely. Just turn to Him now; don’t put off this decision for a second. Please don’t repeat my fate! True happiness can only be found with God. Natalia, Your sister in the Lord.” You are never, never too far gone to be made new in Christ.  And only Christ can truly make all things new.

Pastor Alexander adds, “Natalia has gone into eternity now and, through Natalia’s testimony, Rubina has turned to God. God continues to save and search for sinners, so we all have a lot of work to do.”