Welcome to Moldova. This time of year the country side is quite green. Moldova is a small country nestled between Romania and Ukraine. It is vastly influenced by the Russians and Romanians , there are cities, towns and villages. There is much land and opportunity.
The people are beautiful at first glance, but take another look and then let it soak in for a few minutes. That one quick look doesn’t tell you enough, there is so much more there, so much more to the story, to the weary face. A face that has been beaten by the weather, one full of wrinkles and lines that only just begin to tell the story of hardship and being stuck in what one knows.
Stuck, because so often it feels so much easier to stay where you are at than dare to try something new, then to dare to think of anything more, this is especially true of the villages nestled in the country side, where buildings are old and breaking down, where horses pulling carts can still be found. Where families have been broken and desperate going back for generations and generations ago hope was lost somewhere down the road, much to far to be found again.
To much hurt, not enough food, too much alcohol, to desolate and not enough work so they do whatever they can to get by, even when that means giving herself away just so she can put food on the table, so she can attempt to pay the debt that some man along the road left her with, to try and care for the three beautiful children that seem far to quiet. Quiet because they already know at far too young of age that their voice wont be heard anyways so must make due with what you have to attempt and make the best of it because there is no changing the cards they were dealt.
Even as the rain patters against the windows tonight I am reminded that God weeps for each and everyone of them, his precious children that he sent his son to die for, his children that are so caught up in lies and being stuck that no one even begins to know how to reach them, but our father does.
This week I was helping out in the kitchen talking with on of my fellow teammates and we were talking about big challenges we faced on the race and our perspectives on them, including Cambodia. Cambodia we watched peoples lives get ripped apart because one man choose to deceive and prey on everyone around him, he spun webs upon webs on lies, and it was devastating in so many ways.
But as we talked she said “I see it as a privilege” at first I looked at her and shook my head, “I don’t know, that was just crazy, that whole situation.” But then she explained, “a privilege because God paved out the way for us to be there, he choose us to be there for his children who it affected so greatly, he choose to use us pour out love, tears and laughter with them. To pour out a love we had never experienced to people we had three days to get to know before everything in their worlds crumbled.”
So even as I sit in the midst of this month, and look out to see the weary faces I continue to stand strong against any lie or thought that I could not possibly help . Strong because God choose me to be right here. He knew I had something important to share with one of his children in this place. He decided that my smiles, presence, that me being his daughter clothed in light needed to be here, shining a light to the desolate places, shining light on each beautiful wrinkles these people have endured.
So even as you just begin this journey or you have been on it a while or just out there trying to run the race he marked out for you, press in, listen and stand firm in the places he has you right now, because he can use you anywhere if you just open up and let him.
Where is he asking you to shine your light today? What hopeless situation could you help bring hope or peace to because you are his son or daughter?
