I feel like I just released my own daughter to a pack of hungry wolves and walked away leaving her to die. And when I think about it I can’t breath and my chest hurts.

 

This month my team is based in Pite?ti, Romania and one of our main ministries is going into the ghettos of the city and spending time with the children there. Most of the residents are gypsies who have been raised in and are perpetuating a culture of violence; physical, emotional and sexual abuse; torn apart families; addiction to drugs, sex and money; cussing; and so much more sin and hurt. Even the children who are just a couple years old have become slaves to this lifestyle. Our job is to go into their community and smother them in the love of Christ as best as we know how. 

Our first day there one stoic curly-headed girl caught my attention. She had to be just a couple years old but I could tell she was empty. It was like the world around her was moving at a million miles per hour, and she was frozen in time. As I watched people interact with her, the expression on her face remained emotionless. When the older kids would pick her up, her limp body and blank stare resembled that of a ragdoll. When other Racers tried to play with her she stood stiff and vacant-minded like a cold stone statue. She was completely nonverbal and completely devoid of any emotion.

 Over the course of the first few days of us visiting the gypsy neighborhood a handful of my squad-mates had attempted to reach this little girl, but to no avail. They would try to play games with her. No response. They would carry her around on their waists. No response. They would act completely ridiculously silly. No response.

 I knew that other people had tried to connect with her, and that anything I tried would probably not work either, but something about her just made me want to be near her and love her and protect her. I don’t always know how to show love towards others, but for some reason decided that throwing her over my shoulders and just letting her sit there would be a great idea. I didn’t say a word, but just let her sit up there in my calm presence. 

After a while one of my friends looks up, and then back at me completely wide-eyed and says “Woah, she’s smiling!” Within minutes she was smiling and laughing and talking up a storm and dancing and playing with my hair and just being a kid. 

Later I found out from our host that in the 18 months that the church has been working with this community, never once has he seen that girl even crack a smile. He told us that just like most of the children there, she is physically abused by her parents on a regular basis. Our teams have caught this abuse out of the corners of our eyes on occasion, and unfortunately there is practically nothing we can do about it. 

My heart broke for this girl who is so tiny and so innocent, yet so calloused. And in that moment I knew that even if my entire Race turned out to be awful, or even if I never once witnessed someone coming to Christ in these 11 months, the entire trip would still be worth it, because I got to be a part of that girl’s life and see her laugh with a joy unhindered. And I’d fundraise another $18,000 in a heartbeat just to see that again. 

I don’t know what He did, or how He did it, but God changed something in that girl this month.

 

 …

 

April 14th 2018

This month is going to be hard to leave. There are so many kids that are being abused and are being deprived of love from their families and community. I wish I could just take them home and love them. God, why have they been placed in this position? Why them? Protect them, and show them how much You love them.

 

As I sat there talking with God, writing in my journal the words that I knew how to form, and lifting up my tears and groans and sighs to Him in place of the words I didn’t have, this was His response to me:

 

Grace, stop and just listen to this song.

 

“In the crushing, in the pressing,

You are making new wine

In the soil I, now surrender

You are breaking new ground

So I yield to You and to Your careful hand

When I trust You, I don’t need to understand”

 

Grace, you won’t always understand and you don’t need to. What you do need to know is that I am there, and that through all the hurt that is happening I have a plan to make something good. The words of this song are a promise to you for this community. I will make new wine out of them.

 

 

New wine means that the Enemy is moving out and God is moving in. A season of new wine means that the gypsies are going to encounter the Holy Spirit like they never have before. It means there’s going to be a season of revival, and they will be filled up by Him, and they will proudly be His vessels. New wine is good and it is sweet, but it only comes after a process of crushing and pressing and being trodden down. We can lift our hands in praise because they are due for an outpouring of something so sweet. Its name is love and joy and peace and forgiveness and redemption and Jesus. New wine means the Lord is calling them into intimacy with Him, and man, how His love cheers us like the best wine! New wine means harvest is upon us, and a harvest from God is never short of abundant. It is plentiful. It overflows. A time will come when a bounty of good fruit is produced in the ghettos, and all of Pite?ti will be fed from the harvest. And all will all be satisfied. New wine speaks of celebration. The gypsy community will be saturated with a spirit of gladness because they will have evidence of God’s goodness and faithfulness. New wine means promises will be fulfilled. Not only will God be faithful to fulfill this promise, but He will make their cups run over. The thing about new wine is that people don’t always want it. They thirst for the old, but God is about to do something new in the ghettos that has never been seen or heard there. He is turning water into wine, and in the end He will get all of the glory!

 

 

April 17th 2018

Papa, I don’t understand Your future plans or how You are going to use all this evil for good or why these kids were placed here or really anything. But one thing I do know is that You are still good, and You have a good plan for the gypsies. Those kids belong to You, so I can let go with both hands and simply trust in Your never-failing goodness. Papa, these kids are being crushed and pressed before my very eyes and it breaks my heart so much and I know it breaks Yours too. But I do see Your work here. I see it in the smiles of kids that Cristi has never seen in his life. I hear it in laughter and joy and chattiness of children that never before spoke. You are here, and You have promised me that You are making new wine. These kids will be Your vessels. I am trusting You, but You better be their source of protection. Be a hedge of protection around them, build a fence, dig a frick’n moat, and construct a wall so grand that it sends the enemy running in seven different directions. Don’t let a finger touch them! Hold them gently in the palm of your hand.

 

 

Saying goodbye to those kids, and especially that girl, was one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do on the Race so far. I let my final hugs and goodbyes linger, subsequently resulting in me having to sprint to catch the bus home.

I sat alone on the bus staring mindlessly out of the rain-covered window.

When we got off the bus, I walked slowly behind the rest of the group thinking about how hard it was to leave that girl, and listening to my friends in front of me talk about her as I fought back tears with all my strength. 

One of them turned back to me and said, “She really liked you Grace” 

All I could do was nod my head before tears started welling up in my eyes and she asked “Are you okay?”. 

And I started balling because, no, I wasn’t okay. 

Leaving that girl was so painful. 

Leaving her felt wrong.

Her terror-struck eyes as she looked back at her father was the only image seared into my mind.

I wish that I could just take her with me, protect her and love her forever. 

But I can’t.

She doesn’t belong to me. But the good news is that she belongs to our Father who is so (so) good. He is a promise maker and He is a promise keeper, and He has promised to protect her forever, and to love her to depths unknown, and that although the enemy intended for evil, He will use this for good. And I will trust and rest in that promise.

 

 …

 

April 18th 2018 

God, why this community?… Why does my heart break specifically for them? I have seen and heard first hand of awful things happening all around the world, and my heart remains numb to it… But not here. Is this a place I will return to?