“Air!” barked the command to the waiting Ukrainian jet fighters running toward their jets, snapping on helmets, starting ignitions without checking and taking off at night—always at night. Secrecy shrouded these sorties, the location of the jets, their destination.

For these young men, it was another night of work. They had a country to defend, families, relatives, work. Around the dinner table, no one asked where they were going. In gripping silence, the airmen waited at varied sites where the jets had been moved earlier.

Purposely, they led their enemies on back-to-back spirals and insane zigzags to deplete their gas tanks, forcing them to withdraw from combat. (Such as I remembered from yesterday’s Yahoo article.)

The depths of Ukrainian prayer have no name, honed by centuries of oppression and warmongering that only strengthened their resiliency. In my perception, last night’s display seems related to ineffable-spirit-directing trigger fingers, checking instruments, perhaps cursing, singing, laughing as the airmen who landed safely walked home on broken roads.

So how did this resiliency toward pain and suffering manifest, centuries ago? Undoubtedly, it was related to the discovery of God’s Spirit within the depths of our hearts, its wise expression for our times:

“As we become aware of the realm of the spirit, our lives begin to change,” a quote found in Recipe for Recovery: A Guide to the Twelve Steps of Chronic Pain Anonymous.

You can’t help but change as the Ukrainians are learning, and we, with them.