Spitak, one of the most beautiful places the Lord has ever taken me. A small village located roughly two hours in a bumpy van north of the capital city of Armenia. Spitak was an up and coming industrial city during the Soviet Union and thereafter. There were many factories, schools and even a sports complex. In 1988 an earthquake devastated the village and much of the surrounding area killing one third of the population and destroying nearly every structure, leaving the rest of the population homeless. Despite conflicts with the Soviet Union many countries came together to send aid to the people hit hardest by the quake, but it has never been fully rebuilt. Italy donated portable homes that resemble a container home mixed with a ship. These 20×20 ft homes are still being used today. Two weeks ago I didn’t know a thing about this little village, now I can’t stop thinking about it.
Through a friend at the International Church we had an opportunity to organize a Beauty For Ashes retreat for a few the women living in Spitak. We prayed intently in the time leading up to it and intentionally invited people back home to be praying with us. We prayed over each woman by name. For hearts to be prepared. For protection over the space and so much more. We made prophetic art, small gifts for the women, prepared food, organized childcare, rehearsed our activities and did our best at a welcome banner in Russian. Finally the big day came!
Following the directions of our contact from church the 5 ladies of MOSAIC and our squad leader Talia ventured to the bus station with ALL of our goodies. We asked around until we were pointed to the minibus headed for Spitak through broken english and google translate. Finally we heard the magic word, the name of our friend! She went out of her way to let the regular drivers know she had a group of foreigners headed her way even though she wouldn’t be there to greet us. Two hours later the bus driver stopped on the side of the road in the snowy mountains and indicated that we were at our stop… oh how our faith has grown in the last 6 months! We go out and waited.
We were greeted by Lilit, a beautiful Armenian woman who’s name we had spent so many days praying over but whose face we did not yet know. She became our guide along with her children Eric and Tamara. They welcomed us with sweets and coffee before taking us to the Guest House where we would be hosting the event in. They helped us decorate and prepare the cozy space. She was just as excited as we were!
The women began to trickle in and they just never stopped. It was lovely. Not one of them complained about the cramped space they just made room for the next one with a smile. Eventually we had 16 women seated and ready to go with just enough room for the speaker and the translator to stand among them. Lilit hid out with the rest of us in the kitchen and said “I’m sorry it is my fault. I kept inviting more I should have told you.” What a great problem to have. She even gave up the personalized gifts we had made for her to make sure the other guests got them.
The time we had with these women was full of healing and love. The tears started flowing during the introduction when we explained what it meant in Isaiah 61:3 to exchange ashes for beauty. We shared. We cried. We prayed for each other. We worshiped together. We listened. I held a crying woman in my arms to whom life has dealt more than I could ever imagine. We sent them on their way with hopefully a small reminder of the Father’s love for them.
Afterward Lilit went right back to caring for us. She pulled homemade juice and pickled veggies out of her cellar and whipped up a soup so fast I nearly missed it. We laughed. We ate. We sang. Lilit “tucked us in” and assured us she would be back first thing in the morning. And she was! We had breakfast and coffee. We had tearful goodbyes.
My heart HURT on that two hour bus ride “home”. It still hurts. Was it the women and their stories? Was it the poverty? Was it recognizing the hurt in this place? I still don’t know exactly what it was, but my soul is crying out for more of it. More women like Lilit, who after 24 hours of friendship, I don’t want to leave. More friends who are hungry for the Lord! Women who are pillars in their community and completely open about the healing they’re still walking through.
Something inside me tells me that’s only half of it. The other half is prayer. The time we spent praying for these women and the event created such ties before we even got there. Imagine what it could do with the people I know and love? Imagine how much stronger it makes my relationship with the Father I am praying to. I want to be a woman of prayer. A prayer warrior. My words can win battles. They break chains. They strengthen bonds between me and the people I pray for.Why am I keeping them to myself? These next few weeks I am focusing on what it means to walk in the authority the Lord has given me. He has invited me into the throne room. He wants to hear from me. I want to learn to wield my weapon well.
I want more experiences like Spitak and the Father wants more of those for me. He’s just been waiting on me to figure out my end.
Here are a few photos that try to capture all that we experienced.
