Skipping over large puddles and walking alongside the Danube, we began our trek out of town. About 20 minutes into our journey we reached the main road leading out of town. A dilapidatedgas station in the distance, operating at partial functionality, gave assurance that we were nearing our destination. Just beyond the gas station, a smoke stack loomed high above the horizon. Particles of chemical gases bellowed out of the stack and descended upon the community below.
We stepped off the paved path and onto the dirt road leading into the small community. On the right, just a short distance past the gas station, sat an unpretentious convenience store occupying the majority of visible locals. As usual, all eyes and conversations were directed towards the outsiders.
Just beyond the convenience store, shanty homes sprawled across the open land. Skipping over turbid puddles, we continued our journey through town to the back of a two-story cement block. The back and sides of the cement building stood empty-eyed without windows. The daffodil paint that had once brought life to the building now left only remnants of it’s existence in the bottom left corner.
Without delay, a young boy with an inquiring expression greeted us. After a few words from our host, his curiosity transitioned to a joyful smile as he skipped off to find his friends. As he leapt over puddles, maneuvering his way through an array of uniquely constructed homes with ease, he gathered friends and broadcasted to neighbors the purpose of our visit.
Just moments passed before children, adults, and full families were coming towards us from all directions. A petite child danced towards us in her vermilion sweater. While the hem of the sweater was unraveling, the smile upon her face was a seamless display of joy. Her deep brown eyes welcomed the soft light of the overcast sky. She had it, she lived it, she loved through it…joy. Joy, God’s name for His precious daughter, as my numerous failed attempts at pronouncing her Bulgarian name brought peals of giggles. With arms outstretched, she greeted each of us. She stood beside me exchanging goofy expressions that were often broken by joyous laughter.
Members of the community crowded before us to join us in worship. We led them in songs as they stretched out their hands, eyes closed, seeking this God the outsiders claimed to know. Amanda shared a story of trusting in God’s provision while putting aside one’s humanistic fears. The significance of the Word of God was explained as those with curious hearts stretched out seeking hands to the emerald books before them.
Games followed as children and teens joined in laughter, and parents ushered the shyer ones towards the group.
There she came, another vermilion sweater, Happy. I broke my left hand away from the Hokey Pokey circle and stretched it out towards her. Her grandmother gently directed the little one towards my hand as she shyly accepted. I kneeled down to her level as the game continued. “Put your right hand in” was said in Bulgarian as the rest of the group followed the motions. She looked at me as I stretched out my right hand towards the center; while gesturing with my left that she do the same. Her deep brown eyes searched my own. Seeking trust, seeking understanding, seeking love. In seconds, both of her arms stretched wide towards me. I lifted her into my arms as the eyes of God’s precious child welcomed the beauty of friendship. A warm embrace, a cherished display of her Father’s love. Goofy faces, a language understood by kids around the world, continued our conversation of trust, love, and joy as my eyes focused solely on hers.
After several moments of conversations spoken through hand gestures, facial expressions, and broken Bulgarian-English, our team began our trek towards the paved road that would guide us home. I waved goodbye to Joy and Happy as they directed goofy faces in my direction and we all broke out in laughter.
Joy and Happy, I pray you will be forever filled with a joy only understood through our Father.
REFLECTION:
“How do you tell if someone needs encouragement? If they are breathing.”
PRAYER:
For those within the gypsy community to be awakened to the love of their father. Please be in prayer for our return visits to the community and the love and healing we will share through Christ in those times.
