I'm sitting here on the couch at Rolling Stone hostel in Brasov, Romania. It's 7:16pm here and our last day of month #4 debrief. Geez. Month #4 Debrief. I remember thinking about being in Europe before I left home and it seemed so outside of my radar. Now I'll be in AFRICA in 3 weeks.
This past month was a stark difference from 3 months of life in South America. We arrived to Deva on a cold and rainy afternoon. We were greeted by a man we would come to love named Marius. After dinner in his living room and being serenated by his lovely little children, Von Trapp-style, we were shown to our home for the month in the tiny village of Bacea. 5 girls shoved into a tiny room warmed by a wood stove and so began our April. Our month was blessed by:
Marianella–owner of our farm and lover of hugs, all day and every day.
Mary–another one of our live-in caretakers who joined in our love for coffee each morning
Joanna–Marianella's sweet old mother who spoke love through her kisses for us instead of language
Monica–our God-send from down the street who blessed us with hot showers at her house
Larissa–our 14 yr old angel who never let the wood stove fire go out in our room and tried her darndest to make us understand her Romania
Each of these sweet women watched over us for the month. We lived a quaint life in Bacea, a village where the chickens and sheep outnumber the people. I learned that #1: living with an outhouse is really not that bad, #2:Tap water in a Romanian village is fantastic and #3: chicken poo in Romania smells exactly the same as chicken poo in America (many flashbacks to my childhood on the farm in Wisconsin).
In our short 2 1/2 weeks in Deva we helped Marius complete construction projects on the land used for kids' summer camps, visited and prayed with sick residents in and around Bacea, made special appearances at any and all church services all over the region, sang for church members/prayer groups/people on the street on a DAILY basis, etc. We traveled to villages all over the Hunedoara region crammed into Marius' mini van. Each day was a new adventure based on what we thought he had told us (broken English is always exctiing). Regardless of what each day brought, I could always count on one thing: every day for 2 1/2 weeks I watched Marius walk in profound closeness with his Lord. I thought going into a culture of strict traditional values I would experience that nasty word: legalism. Instead, I got to work alongside a man who speaks to God like a best friend. When he spoke about his Lord, he spoke with passion. But his passion was different. He didn't speak with emphasis, he didn't walk with intensity. Instead he spoke with infallable peace and he walked with steady confidence. Marius heard from God, and he didn't really think anything crazy about it. Of course he heard from God. Of course he would heed his instruction for every aspect of his life. What, doesn't everyone do that?
…Um, not exactly.
I learned a lot this month about why women shouldn't wear jewelry, the importance of a head scarf, the words to one Romanian hymn, and that men and women should sit on opposit sides of the church isle. But the only lesson I really care to take with me is how to walk in the closeness Marius has found with the Lord. Good thing he can share his best friend with the rest of us.
