Trail to Susuman
It seemed we had jumped off the end of the earth and landed in a WWII death camp without fences. This is the feeling we all had as we advanced the Gospel to one of the most isolated places on the face of the earth; a corner of the world with rugged mountains and remote people groups existing in a land of sadness. It’s a place with the testimony of physical, spiritual and sociological tragedies. The genocide, the holocaust stories, the mass graves and the well preserved frozen bodies are too well known in this area of Russia. Every town or village in the area was once home to Stalin’s prison camps. As we listened to the stories of the past, as they surged through us, too horrible to mention, we forged ahead.
Only now, after I’ve had a few months to reflect on what we experienced walking the same trail as the gulag prisoners, can I tell the story.
It all started in 1990 with a vision I had from God. He sent me to reach the far east of Russia known as Siberia. In recent years, God opened a door for me to partner with a church in the Magadan Region of Siberian Russia. Whenever God opens up a new area to us, we try to enter it with an intercessory prayer team to help us get direction.
Who would go to Magadan? Who would risk all and travel the road of faith? Who had the faith to start down a road not knowing what is at the end? Who has the courage to enter another’s nightmare without a map?
I have learned I can rely on the prayer team from Christ’s Place in Lincoln, Nebraska. The answer to the question, “Who will go?” was resolved with their obedient, “Here I am. Send me.” The team engaged in months of spiritual and physical preparation to get ready for Susuman, not far from Magadan. The team went forward knowing prayer warriors remained in Lincoln storming heaven for the success and safety of the team.
After much warning that Siberia is unforgiving and punishes the faint of heart, instead of running the opposite direction, the Christ’s Place Team left the comfort zone of their homes and families in Nebraska. They had no plan to escape the harsh physical and spiritual reality of Siberia. They set their face to the fight, walked straight into the enemy’s territory with confidence, forgetting their human hesitation and remembering God’s promises. They were sealed with anticipation and tenacity to grab hold of all God had for them. So, they began what we were to call, The Trail to Susuman. God had a work for them to do.
The prayer team traveled from Lincoln, Nebraska to Moscow then on to Madagan on the Sea of Okhotsk. They took planes, trains, buses even vans. It took thirty-six hours of sleepless travel along with the seventeen hours of time difference, now, that’s jet-lag. This schedule afforded little rest. The Team was running on empty, resting in His strength for victory. I arrived in Magadon from another direction the day before and met the team at the airport. All of us were suffering the effects of jet lag. Like zombies we drove the 40km from the airport into the city of Magadon. We passed by fields of spring-like flowers contrasted by the changing colors of autumn leaves on the trees. As the trip continued, we learned to understand and deal with this 
disparity. It was only faith that allowed us to see past the existing reality to God’s plan for this region of Siberia.
The first order of business was a prayer meeting in the city of capital city of Magadan. The team arrived two hours early and was able to cover every area of the sanctuary in prayer, releasing faith for setting free the captives as almost 200 people gathered. We prayed, shared the Word and prayed some more. For nine hours we were in the presence of the Lord. The entire church was praying and seeking His face to bless the Magadan Region with His glory, His direction, His healing, His restoration power and His wisdom. We were not disappointed. The intensity and hunger for God erupted into a beautiful symphony of praise. It was like tender shoots springing up, buds giving way to blossoms, exploding as God’s mercy fell like rain. His rain began to fall as the anointing spread around the building. People were being set free all over the sanctuary.
The following day we got an early start. Susuman was 700km to the west of the port city of Magadan on a well-known highway. The people in the area call it the Kolyma highway.
It is a “highway” of heaved earth with sinkholes galore. The potholes are big enough to drive into then out again. Some people call it a road but others call it a path. We called it The Trail to Susuman. 
We passed by broken bridges, broken signs, broken guard rails, broken buildings, broken towns and broken people.
We saw the dilapidated structures of this society—poverty, sickness, stumbling alcoholics and drug addicts. We came to understand the addictions of life are a mere escape from this collapsing society. People are working without result. They are abandoned and rejected without hope of escape. A quote keeps coming back to me from Ivan Panikarov, a local journalist in the area, “Under Stalin, there were lots of camps with barbed wire and watch towers here, but the Kolyma area is one big camp to this day. There are no prisoners; you just can’t escape. That is the great paradox, it is impossible to live here but impossible to leave as well.”
This Kolyma highway is nicknamed “Road of Bones,” coming from the brutality used to build and maintain the road. Tens of thousands of forced labor prisoners fell ill, froze or starved to death building this road. In the summer they were baked by the heat, covered with dust and attacked by huge mosquitoes. The winter brought temperatures as low as –76 F. The bones of the cadavers were broken up and used as ballast upon which to build the road. 
Along the road there are remains of cabins. These cabins are testimonies to the cruelty of man. As the road was built, a prisoner was placed in charge of maintaining two km. of it. The remains of these cabins are the makeshift shelters of these maintenance prisoners. They gathered trees or anything that would provide insulation from the unforgiving Siberian winter, and with the crudest of tools, the prisoner was expected to maintain his two km. of road. If someone driving on the road complained about its condition, the maintenance prisoner of that section was shot and buried within the road, and another prisoner took his place.
The day we were on the road was mild, climate wise, for driving, which we were grateful for. However, to our disappointment, no rest areas could be found. Our brains had been sloshing against our skulls for hours as we made our way across the rut-covered road. Driving on railroad tracks would have been a delightful change. For a moment we stopped and peace filled our little group. Some exercised; others took off their shoes and rolled up their pant legs—wading into an ice-cold crystal stream. What a lovely stop with a refreshing mountain stream! We were rudely interrupted when the summer mosquitoes found our whereabouts. Break time was over and we were, once again, hostage to the road.
We were about 100km east and south of Susuman when we rounded the side of a mountain and there it was! We all saw it, a rainbow! It was majestic, perfect in shape and awesome to behold. The rainbow was fixed in a flat field between ascending mountains. Then right before our eyes the rainbow split in two. Two matched arches stood one on top of the other painting the sky with the splendor of creation. Both ends of the rainbow were visible in the distance. Then the most spectacular thing occurred. The rainbow began to chase the van. That’s right; it chased us and in seconds the rainbow caught up with us, attaching itself to the van. For about 3km we experienced what it was like to be at the end of the rainbow. Then—we named it “God’s rainbow”—it disappeared. We believe we experienced this awesome event as a sign that God was pleased with what we were doing.
I have asked many Russians if they have ever heard of Susuman, and they usually answer, “No.” There are only a few people left who witnessed the hidden secrets that echo in this frozen wasteland. The Kolyma Mountains are witnesses to the shed blood of more than three million people.
When we arrived in Susuman, we met Constantine, a brother in Christ. He asked me what our purpose was in coming to Susuman, and I told him to pray. The next few days were filled with hours of prayer. We prayed at the two-room apartment the church owns, we prayed at the new church building being renovated, we prayed around the city and at every monument site. We journeyed to the oldest buildings and the boarded up businesses and factories. We cried out in sorrow, repenting for all the atrocities done at the gold mine, at the site of former gulag prisoners’ homes, on a mountain over looking Susuman and on the Road of Bones. In all of our praying, the Word of God kept coming back to us that Susuman is not far from the Father’s heart.
Again, a clash occurred—the promise of peace and rest against the backdrop of the current reality:
We met briefly with a director of a present-day gold mine, which was historically developed by gulag prisoners. He told us, “that each prisoner was expected to bring in 60 grams of gold a day if they expected to live. Only after they met the day’s requirement did they receive the day’s ration of very simple food. If the prisoner had a good day in the mines with more than the amount required and tried to hold some gold over for the following day’s requirement and the guards found out, the prisoner was shot and the quota of gold that was demanded was increased for the rest of the workers.”
His comments and stories convinced us that the cruelty of man knows no limit.
The director pointed us in the direction of the prisoners’ graveyard and to the place where they lived. We tried to comprehend the hopelessness, the emptiness, and the pain that encompassed this forced-labor camp… the cry of despair still echoed in the wind, “Escape!”
We gathered for church service that Sunday. We noticed Constantine sat on the front row with his young daughter, Nastia, leaning against her father during the service. We saw the father’s care and compassion for his daughter as he wrapped his arm around her and covered her with his love and protection. He gently caressed her with his free hand. This precious scene spoke to us symbolically of God’s care for Susuman. God showed us He always has a free hand to love us. Nothing is impossible when that closeness between the Father and His Church exists.
As Constantine was leading us in worship, I realized it was more of a partnership with God than a leading. It is like the difference between riding a motorcycle and driving a car. On a motorcycle, you must be very aware at all times. You do not have the security of thousands of pounds of metal surrounding you for protection like you do in a car. You cannot risk being distracted, taking your eyes off the road for a second while riding a motorcycle, like you can while driving a car. I experienced a partnership with God in worship that day. Through this experience I rose up the hill of worship and back down and rose again into the arms of God. At one point it was so powerful I thought the Glory cloud had filled the place. In a vision, I saw Christ walking over the mountains in the midst of clouds and surrounding Him was light. The atmosphere was thick with the presence of the Lord. We encouraged each other with great zeal to enter into the presence of the Lord. Following this time of communion with God, we broke bread together and entered into a sweet season of prayer for all.
A word was given that, “God will make beauty out of ashes in Susuman.”
The reality is that sin has taken its toll in Susuman. We witnessed rows and rows of dilapidated buildings, scores of burned out homes and broken/boarded up businesses. Factories that once employed thousands were roofless and windowless. Ruins lay at our feet, crumbling buildings, sinking into the permafrost. The town seemed to have suffered from a great explosion or natural disaster. Trash, bottles, broken glass, and rotting building material littered the streets. No one seemed to care.
Susaman is a land of disparity. A thirst for a touch from God was very evident in the church. We experienced the signs; spoke the word together with glorious worship. In the Spirit we kept hearing the church cry out, “Ya Hachoo – Ya Hachoo!”/ “I want – I want!” What does the church want? It seems all they know is emptiness, a deep chasm. They longed to be filled; yet they do not know they are crying for Him. They do not know He will satisfy them. They don’t walk in freedom or God’s truth. Since they do not know true freedom, they are condemned to cling to the pain of the past. They are like baby birds in the nest with mouths wide open begging for scraps. Anything is better than nothing. The people of Susuman use vodka, drugs, pornography, greed, and violence to fill their emptiness. Each day they wake up empty looking to escape. They want to run away, but there is no place to run.
There was much rattling in the spirit going on here. On top of the death of millions of people was the murderous spirits we dealt with, the evil that comes with self-preservation—keeping what you have for yourself.
Selfishness had become the fabric of society. Even though they had enough to get through hard times, they did not want to share. It is greed. One person told me the entire culture is built upon greed. The building of roads was developed to rape the land of gold, silver, precious metals, and natural resources to feed the greed of a handful of influential men. This greed gave way to the gulag system. Betraying and informing on people to gain favor with those in authority became common. In many aspects of life, from the border guards to the lady that held the restroom key, people would betray others in order to be next in line with the authorities.
All of this was connected with the death camps, the abuse of power and doing unmentionable things to stay alive.
It is time the people of this region own the events of the past, repent of them and move forward in God’s grace.
Thousands of Russian Christians found their last home on earth among those sent to Siberia because they would not denounce their faith in God. Many families living in the region today are of former prisoners who stayed when released from prison. The Word for the church of Susuman is, “BEGIN.” Begin somewhere. There are so many things that need to be done, it is hard for the church in Susuman to know where to begin. They just need to begin somewhere, finish something they have started in a short amount of time and move on to something else. The work of the church in Susuman can be compared to a journey. They will not arrive until they are serious about beginning the journey. Begin with a simple act of kindness to a neighbor and follow up on that kindness. It can be as simple as picking up the trash around the church building they are renovating.
The church will be built line upon line, precept upon precept. The church in Susuman needs to demonstrate to the inhabitants of Susuman that they care about Susuman. There must be life coming out of the church, touching the community. Without life coming out of the church, the church will die.
The church needs to step out in faith. They cannot wait until the way is cleared by waiting for a better day, a more appropriate time, money in the bank, or a church full of gifted people. Susuman cannot wait until the path to success is known in ever little detail. The church needs to step into the Jordan and watch it part before passing into the Promised Land. “Susuman put your hand to the plow, do it today, move forward, boldly and quickly.”
God desires the church in Susuman to be a lighthouse for people that are lost and seeking direction. People will see the lighthouse in the area because the darkness is so dark in Susuman, even a little light will be seen. It will be a sharp contrast to what is now seen.
The church must be a warm place. It should offer physical warmth for the body and spiritual warmth for the soul. This should be radiating warmth. The church needs to proceed with warmth and love and acts of kindness.
The church in Susuman really needs to take a hard look at and see the people of Susuman. To take a step away from the pain and desolation is to see Susuman as an oasis in the desert of darkness. They need to lift their heads up, in this present day, and look people in the eyes. Show value for the people of the city, for their souls are too valuable to lose.
The foundation that has been laid is solid enough to build upon. Now is the time to build. If the church is not built quickly, the foundation will crack and crumble and the anger of the Siberian winter will win. Strong prayer, proper understanding of the Word of God and worship are key to this strong foundation.
Susuman has an apartment and a church building but no pastor. I come back to the question I prayed when I first partnered with the Magadan church, “Who will go?”
I ask you, “Who will travel The Trail to Susuman with all the disparity? Who will go to a place where people cry to escape? Who will go to a land that has known such cruelty?”
The only escape is straight into the arms of Jesus Christ.
“Who will go?”
How beautiful are the feet of them that bring good news!
The trip home was exciting as we encountered a blinding mountain snowstorm—yes, in the month of August! Then we walked and prayed along the seaport. Here prisoners who lived through the torturous pain of being crowded into open train cars, like animals, riding in knee deep sea water for days were then forced to walk 700 km up The Trail to Susuman.
We had taken it all in…the summer mosquitoes with the winter snows, the spring flowers against the fall colors, the planes, trains, buses, vans, and automobiles, the signs in the sky, the healing on earth, the visit of miracles, words of wisdom, words of knowledge, words of prophesy, encouraging and warning us through much prayer and waiting on the Holy Spirit.
God loves the people of the Magadan Region – they are too valuable to be hopelessly lost.
“Will you go?”