On Friday we left Timisoara,
Romania to head down south to a small, poor village called Draganesti Olt
(pronounced Dragon-isht). Southern Romania is a very challenging place to be.
My first impression about Romania was that the country was very gloomy and
there was just a heavy feeling weighing me down. Fog is common off in the
distance and most of the time the sky seems to be gray instead of blue. It feels
like a black and white movie almost. Whenever I see a bright color, I stop and
just stare. My feet lumbered and eyelids hung heavy as I took in my new
surroundings.
We were warned that there was a
very heavy, depressing ambiance in this region. For inexplicable reasons people
who visit this region get very ill, have terrible nightmares and just feel uneasy
here. Sure enough, our team has been battling sickness and fighting off bad
spirits since our arrival.
Merriment seems elusive while despair is rampant.
The country is oppressed and struggling
to recover after the fall of communism. In Draganesti Olt, there is roughly a
70% unemployment rate. Seventy. Seven, zero. More than two-thirds of the
community has fallen victim to complacency simply because there is nowhere to
work and not much to do otherwise. There are multiple bars on every block of
the main strip in the town and it appears alcohol has become the crutch holding
up fabricated spirits of optimism. Alcohol is more available here than food. For
some, drinking here starts in the morning and doesn’t stop until a numb
lethargy temporarily overcomes the burden life’s problems.
The majority of those that do have
jobs work in the fields with primitive farming tools. There are a few shops in
town and a supermarket with coveted positions. One of our contacts here,
Christi, a missionary from elsewhere in the country, told me his wife tried to
apply for a job at the supermarket. She applied but was denied a job because
the hiring system is corrupt. Bribing the supermarket manager is the only way
an application will even be considered. Police officer’s wives have most of the
jobs there because the policemen threaten the manager for the jobs.
While Christi was telling our team about
all of this information he was looking down and shuffling his feet. He would
often shake his head and put his hand over his mouth rubbing his pointer finger
and thumb across his bottom lip. He was obviously perturbed about the situation
of this community but then he raised his head, looked us squarely in the eye
and said something profound,
“There is no hope from the government, no hope
from the state, no hope from anything… except God. God is the only hope.”
Hope.
There is a group of a dozen or so
missionaries that live in this region that have started a program called Speranta.
Hope in Romanian. Their vision is to reach out to the lowest of the low,
poorest of the poor, the downhearted, the despairing, the depressed, the
desolate, the desperate … and give them hope. Through planting churches, helping
with needs, giving an ear and providing the Good News of salvation through
Jesus. For the next few weeks we will be teaming up with the ‘Speranta’ crew
and helping spread Hope and Light in whatever capacity we can. So far we dug a
trench for the plumbing of a new church the other day and I preached at another
church Sunday. I am excited to see how else we can help.
There are hardly any churches in
this region and the congregations at the few churches that exist are mostly
very small. Last Sunday, Woody and Craig traveled about an hour away by the
border of Bulgaria and went to a church with a congregation size of 4 people. Four.
That is so small, but…
There is a spark of hope.
A single spark can set a forest ablaze.
