Sarajevo is studded with wounds.. war wounds.
A Civil war from 1992-1995 has left visible marks on apartment buildings. They were built with excitement and hope in anticipation of the 1984 Olympics, but now, they are reminders of the families and neighbors that have been torn apart.
The Bosnian people bear scars from the war. Yes, physical scars, but also emotional ones.
You can feel the tension between the Turkish Muslims, Croatian Catholics and Serbian Orthodox people.
In fact, there’s a law that forbids the sharing of faith with anyone under the age of 18 in order to protect the children from being brainwashed by another religious group. Thus, not only can Muslims not share their faith with Serbian Orthodox children, but speaking the name of Jesus to any group is strictly forbidden.
However, in a city that is in desperate need of hope.. the hope of Jesus… I believe it’s worth the risk.
We worked with a children’s ministry called Nojeva Barka, and a church called Rafael. However, they don’t call themselves a “church” but an organization in order to avoid confusion between the other religions in which the word “church” simply reflects rules and not relationship. The biggest thing I admire about Rafael and Nojeva Barka, is that they create space. Space to share, to open up, to find commonalities between one another. And you know what? It’s crazy what happens when all you do is open the doors.
Wednesday we opened the doors to serve a home-cooked lunch for retired people.
The first week, eight people came and of the eight, two stood up and opened their hearts to us. One Muslim man began to tell his story of coming through the war, how his two sons ran away and how he hasn’t seen them since.
The next week, there were 16 retirees. Some were brought in from the streets only minutes before. On the way in, one lady shared her story without prompting. She lost her 17 year old daughter in the war, and her son bears severe wounds from the fight.
Thursdays and Fridays were designated for teens. It’s important to note, that before we arrived, Rafael had no youth or teens coming through their doors, so they asked us to start a youth ministry.
How on earth do you start a youth ministry in a town you don’t know, with no youth, and an aversion to church… Well, we posted flyers that advertised game nights and a talent show, and the doors were opened at 11 am the following day. To our surprise, we had two boys come right at 11, and that evening we were hosting a “girls night”, and two girls came. Having only known them for just shy of 30 minutes, one girl began to open up and share about how she’d been bullied since kindergarten, and the other girl chimed in confirming she’d been bullied in the same way.
Wounded, scarred. All these girls needed was someone to listen, someone they could share with. They considered us friends simply because we opened the doors and listened, (chocolate chip muffins were also a huge ice breaker ;))
The next day, five teens were knocking on the door at 10:40am, and the following week we had 20 teens all day, from 10:30am-7:30pm. Oh and those girls that were there the first week… they were at every meeting after that and are looking to head up the youth group now that we have left.
Sarajevo has a special place in my heart, and the people here have brought me to tears with their hospitality, kindness, authenticity and brokenness.
Even though I have left Bosnia physically, my heart hasn’t left, and I don’t think God’s finished with me there yet…
Special thanks to Robert and Sandrina Jurjevich for opening their home to us and hosting us SO WELL.
