Living in a
small gypsy village settled amidst the rolling hills of Romania, I’ve had a job
picking apples, charaded my way through conversation, and been dominated by 4
year old children in soccer. We’ve become friendly with shovels, the long drop,
and warm showers once again become a luxury 2 months from my grasp. Horse
buggies clack down the streets as scarved gypsy woman nod and blow kisses to me
from their frequented benches. It’s one of those reality check world race
moments, where you shake your head, close your eyes, and are almost surprised
to open them again and find that gypsy Romania is your present reality.
Our
ministry focus has been on 3 families in the village. We do everything from
scrubbing dirty laundry to sweeping dirt floors. Some families are more
inviting than others, but our time here has been pleasant. Team Bling hiked up
one of the hillsides a few days ago and decided to spend our afternoon praying
and worshiping over the city. Amazing, peaceful, and rewarding.
ministry focus has been on 3 families in the village. We do everything from
scrubbing dirty laundry to sweeping dirt floors. Some families are more
inviting than others, but our time here has been pleasant. Team Bling hiked up
one of the hillsides a few days ago and decided to spend our afternoon praying
and worshiping over the city. Amazing, peaceful, and rewarding.
As perusual, I’ve staked claims on a beautiful child. This month his name is Feli.
He’s 4 years old and giggles more than any little girl I’ve ever met. He’ll see
me heading towards him on the street, and with open arms, he’ll run at me full
force. He’s been known to tackle other small children and jump over ditches to
leap into my arms. Yesterday after one of his impressive leaping maneuvers, he
traced the line of my face with his hand, squeezing my cheeks, and whispered: “Kristina, mă
iubeşti?” ((Kristina, do you love me?)) Knowing quite well the child had
no way of understanding how true the following statement was going to be, I
nodded, said yes, and kissed him on the cheek. If they only knew how they steal my heart and are truly not forgotten when I leave.
So, I’m thinking of how to share what else has been happening, and instead of productivity, I’m
staring at a blinking cursor. It’s been a weird month and I’m at a loss for words for the first time since the beginning of the race.
Have I been rocked this month? Naturally. Am I stepping outside my comfort
zone? Always. But the transformation this month has been less by outside
influences and more a result of the Lord asking me some questions and me processing. The Lord says: “How is it darling daughter that you love my children so much, but refuse vulnerability with anyone who could actually hold you accountable?” My answer: Mmm…Fear of rejection? Pride? Who knows… ((Awkward silence here))
staring at a blinking cursor. It’s been a weird month and I’m at a loss for words for the first time since the beginning of the race.
Have I been rocked this month? Naturally. Am I stepping outside my comfort
zone? Always. But the transformation this month has been less by outside
influences and more a result of the Lord asking me some questions and me processing. The Lord says: “How is it darling daughter that you love my children so much, but refuse vulnerability with anyone who could actually hold you accountable?” My answer: Mmm…Fear of rejection? Pride? Who knows… ((Awkward silence here))
I’m learning even more that I choose to love the ones who can’t know my story and struggles. Not that I doubt the sincerity of my love, but the Lord is revealing what depth looks like, and the vulnerability that will be required to obtain such depth. If I’m honest, I’m pretty scared. So, I’m posting this on an insanely public blog hoping I’ll receive some prayer.
Romania is amazing and I think i want to be a gypsy when I grow up.
That’s all for now. Love you all.
