Chapter 9 - "Can you help us?"

During the two-year period of the government trials, our home was repeatedly searched for incriminating evidence. This search is called, in Romania, an "inventory". The inventory takes the form of a surprise raid, with confiscation of any valuable property. Before one of these inventories we were alerted in advance by a close friend, the mayor of Dornesti. He had been my childhood friend. I taught him to ride the motorcycle. As grown men we remained close friends. After the trials he became a Christian and later would suffer imprisonment for his faithfulness to Christ.

The police arrived for the inventory and burst into our home unannounced. As part of the raid they were supposed to "seal" or impound our car. We would never see it again, of course. Everyone, up until the final decision of the second, higher court, never expected us to win the case. God intervened, however. Hallelujah! He had shown repeatedly how He could blind the enemy's eyes. It was a simple matter for Him to erase memories as well. They left after the search, totally forgetting to seal the car that stood by the house! It was a very important failure on their part, for it meant I could still use the car.

God then told me to drive the car to Timisoara and sell it, deposit the money in a secret place, and return home. That meant a long and dangerous trip. Would I even get to Timisoara? Of course I woud! God had spoken, and He would watch over my going and coming!

I had no sooner set out than the police, realizing their gross oversight, returned to the house in a big hurry to seal the car. They were very upset when they saw that the car was gone, and questioned Aurica about my whereabouts. She told them to ask my supervisor at work. Contacted, he then told them to go check at the factory's headquarters, located 300 kilometers away. "Maybe he's been called there," he said. Thus, the police were diverted, while I headed in the opposite direction!

As the old Moskovitz chugged faithfully up and around the Alps of Transylvania, the highest peaks of Romania (which had been a sanctuary for the Romanian people against oppressors countless times in history), I prayed and sought my "hiding place"--Almighty God.

I had no written permission from the authorities to be on the road. I cried unto the Lord in my predicament. If the police stopped me, driving a car they wanted to impound, they would surely identify me also as the man currently under trial by the government.

Imagine my surprise when I noticed occupants in the car! They were angels! I don't know how I was able to keep driving as the angels spoke of how the Enemy was going to try to frighten me. But they declared that God would guide and protect me against anything men tried to do. The moment the angels disappeared I found myself unable to drive. I pulled over, rejoicing and shaking in equal amounts. I controlled my tears of joy and then proceeded down the road. Ahead I saw hitchhikers. I would have gone by if I had not felt a distinct nudge...since I never stopped unless directed.

The young couple got in. Thankfully, they were Christians, not KGB agents posing as ordinary hitchhikers. They could not help noticing me rejoicing in the Lord, so they identified themselves as one in the same faith. I shared with them the joy the angels' appearance had given and soon after, I let them off at their destination. They were newlyweds. They were grateful for the unexpected fellowship.

Eventually, I reached the large city of Brasov. A few miles outside the city I saw police ahead on the road, motioning for me to pull over. This was the worst thing that could happen, but I remembered the Lord's promise. Instead of asking for my travel permit (a regular procedure on Romanian roads), they had a strange request. "Can you help us" the chief sergeant inquired afer a glance at my license plate. "We have a dangerous, violent criminal at the village station near here. We can do nothing with him. When we try to restrain him, he is so powerful he cannot be held long enough to be handcuffed. We will have to shoot him if you cannot help us subdue him."

The chief sergeant further explained that they wanted to transport the man to the main headquarters in Brasov. They wanted me, a stranger to the area, to speak to him, and say anything that might possibly get him to go with me in my car, while a police car followed us to the headquarters. On the dashboard of my car was a picture of Jesus as the Good Shepherd. The officer saw it. "You a Christian? Maybe it would be good for you to tell him about Christian things," he said. "And don't be afraid. I will be sitting right behind you, if he gives any trouble I will shoot him."

Having been forewarned and assured by God, I agree to help the police and was conducted to a nearby village police station. The man was exactly what they described. Massively built, unafraid of any man or authority, he looked as if he had broken all the laws of man and God. The police told the man that they had brought someone to speak to him, a visitor from another part of the country who would be taking him to a meeting in Brasov. Thus introduced in a friendly way, we walked to my car, and the man got in.

As we drove toward Brasov I began to speak to the man about the love of Jesus. I could see his expression soften as he looked at the picture of Jesus on the dashboard.

It took about an hour for us to reach the police headquarters. Brasov was so large and unknown to me that I had to be directed street by street until we finally came to our destination. By that time, the man's face was very changed. By his expression I could see that his guilty, sin-hardened heart had been profoundly touched.

Police immediately surrounded our car (for it was no "meeting" but an arrest). The man got out and was put in restraints, but he did not resist. "Here I am in your hands," he said to the amazed police. Submitting meekly to arrest, he was led away. The police then turned to me in gratitude. "Fill your car with gas, Comrade!" they said. So my car was filled with gas at the KGB pump in main headquarters, while in another part of the country the police were furiously searching all the roads for a certain Moskovitz and its driver!

Free to go, I drove to Timisoara without incident, and stayed the night with Christian friends. In the morning I placed an ad in the newspaper. The paper appeared the next day and I received an instant response. I sold the car and entrusted the money to a Christian friend.

Returning to Dornesti, I was immediately confronted by the police. "We'll arrest you for this!" they stormed. "We may even kill you. Where is the car?" "I had to sell the car, so we might have enough money to live," I said. "Where is the money?" they demanded, shaking clenched fists. "That is not your business," I said. "Why do you ask for my money? You took me to court. The court has yet to make a decision. You still have to wait. The car is sold." "But we were supposed to seal the car the same time we took inventory," they protested pathetically. "I am sorry, that is your mistake," I said.

Later, news came to us that one poor policemen was made a scapegoat for the others. Held responsible for the loss of the car, he was uprooted from his home and stationed clear across the country.

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