They warned us that the kids may push us away, both literally and figuratively.
It takes them awhile to warm up to strangers, they said. Lucky for us, today they were wrong. We danced, we played peek-a-boo, we bounced balls, we bounced on balls, we colored, we blew bubbles, we put together puzzles, we karaoked, we played with dough, we made thumbprint cookies, we ate thumbprint cookies, then we danced more and more and more. I can’t begin to count the hugs I received. We went to give love and we received it right back times ten.
A ministry to love on kids with autism and their parents was never something that Wendy and Danijel Zahorjanski imagined God would bring into their laps. Danijel says, “A year ago we started hanging out with kids with autism. I wish I could say I taught them more about God’s love than they taught me.” He’s not sure if the felt board Bible lessons they do once a week leave any sort of impact. Regardless, it’s impossible to deny how the kids and their parents light up when they see Danijel and Wendy.
Autism is one of many disabilities that often results in a Serbian child being institutionalized, with government employees pushing parents to choose this option. For the parents that go against the grain, they find very little support from the government or private organizations. They simply don’t exist. Wendy and Danijel had no idea about any of these systemic issues, but what they do know was God had brought them people to love for whatever reason and season, and so they do just that. They love and advocate for this group of kids alongside their parents, helping to bring workshops on autism to Kragujevac, and helping to bring parents to workshops outside of Kragujevac. They raise awareness for what God has opened their eyes to.
While this was by far the ministry that personally impacted me the most, it’s just one of the ways Danijel and Wendy pour out love. They have been in Serbia for 5 years now and, of all the things they’ve learned about the life of a missionary, it’s that God gives and God takes away, and you celebrate the moment he has you in for as long as you’re in it. Right now the season he has them in also includes a weekly ministry to children of Kosovo refugees, loving on them and teaching them English. Wendy is a natural teacher, full of energy and fun games to keep the children engaged, offering continual praise and encouragement. She cultivates love and they grow with her in it.
In addition to improving the lives of whichever people group God opens the door for them to love on, Wendy and Dan spend much time devoted to the small church plant they’ve helped to start in Kragujevac. In Southern Serbia, one can generally count on one or two hands the non-orthodox Christians – it’s a very very tiny community that often bridges cities. You see, in a country that is nearly 100% orthodox, to be Serbian is to be Orthodox.
For most, this means living under the heavy burden of legalism, blind to the deep relationship our Savior died to make fully available to us. Instead, prayers and burdens are brought to saints to intercede on their behalf before God, and a deep well of obligation and guilt floods any sense of joy and freedom in Christ. It’s a mindset that is all too real for me. Legalism has plagued my entire Christian journey, and while it has now been reduced to more of a nuisance than a battle, it occasionally still takes vivid shape. Breaking free of those chains takes time and discipleship and copious reassurances of the Father’s love.
This is what Wendy and Danijel offer in their tiny church – discipleship and loads of love. They have both adult and youth bible studies weekly. You can find them pouring into the youth every Friday night, often until midnight. At Sunday services, they are intentional about inviting English speakers in with a ‘translation station’ and worship songs in both English and Serbian.
They are raw and vulnerable as they share about their lives. It’s not the glamour of the few days visiting their family and supporters in Wendy’s hometown in Vermont when they get to share reflections on how God has been and is working in their lives and in their ministry. Rather, their lives are about the other 350 days of the year, the days when they live in a near void of Christian community and fellowship, the days when their friend has a miscarriage and they’re going to visit with no idea what words to say, the days when Bible study attendance is down to a few people and they’re not sure if God is telling them that the season for this part of ministry is ending or if he’s telling them to have perseverance, the days when they are in desperate need of Christian community to encourage them that they are right where God wants them.
Their lives are about letting go of the uncertainty of the future and listening to God’s voice in the present. Mostly, they just live day to day in the best way they know how, giving love out freely to whomever God leads their way. Like my team. They let us interrupt their lives and fill up their time, even as they prepared for a huge professional ballet fundraiser/outreach that weekend. They repeatedly invited us into their home for Starbucks coffee and homemade peanut butter cookies, for pizza and homemade cherry cake, for worship and prayer, for fellowship. They graciously let us tag along to all their ministries throughout the week, gently coaching us along in cultural awareness and showing respect. They took a leap of faith and let us in to relationships they’ve been building for years, knowing full well how easily we could have ruined the trust they painstakingly cultivated. They loved us so well as if we were a ministry too.
At the end of the week, as we sat in the theatre watching the story of The Prodigal Son performed as a breathtaking ballet, we listened to the delighted sounds coming from our new friends with autism. They were captivated the entire show all 3 hours of it, something none of us expected. Honestly, we were captivated too. Captivated with the Father’s love and his beautiful followers who daily share that love with all they have, whether with ballet dances or sermons or baking cookies, hoping that one day their work will indeed bear fruit for the Father. In the meantime, they live in the tension of His promise that His word never returns void and that He will bring to completion the good work He has started.
To our friends and family back home, if you would like to hear more about Wendy and Danijel’s ministry in Southern Serbia, please reach out. They are always in need of prayer for God to open avenues for their light to shine more brightly. Please join them and us in prayer for the Serbian people and if God is directing you to give more than prayer, I am happy to connect you.
To Wendy and Danijel, we are deeply grateful to have shared life with you for is short time. We will be praying that God continues to give you strength and comfort as you seek His will together for the people in Kragujevac. That He will give you peace about the doors He closes and excitement about the ones He opens. That He will give you rest together and overflow you with his never-ending, unchanging, unconditional Father love. You have been such a breath of fresh air into our journey, we love you and we miss you already!
