I didn't even know the country of Moldova existed before I began looking into the World Race. And then for too long all I knew is that it was small, poor, and above Romania. For the last 9 months of Summer we've been anticipating the switch from Asia (6 months of heat. I loved it but, I was ready to not have heat rash for a bit) to Eastern Europe: The home stretch. Cooler weather. New languages. Different foods. A complete wardrobe re-make.
And now we're here. During our Moldova orientation we talked about the realities of this country. Moldova needs HOPE. But, despite their economy and other struggles, this country has a certain charm. A land of simplicity and gratitude. Horses pull carts. Geese chase you. Apples are eaten, several times a day. And heat is not taken for granted.
I'm blessed to live right outside of a small town, Grigorauca, which is about an hour and a half away from the city. We're living in a small community center – with a front porch, kitchen, bathrooms, and a giant room with 7 mattresses piled with blankets lined up on the floor. The Catholic Church is right next door where our contact leads Mass for the children who come here after school every afternoon.
I've never drank so much hot tea in my life. Or worn so much flannel.
We don't have a set schedule for ministry but, everyday this week we've been led or dropped off at someone's house/field to help them with harvesting their corn. I can now say I know how to cut down stalks and shuck like a pro – not quite like a local, but like a pro. I've actually really enjoyed doing physical labor… outside… in the cold. It's enjoyable because we can see how grateful the women we're helping are. We play gestures to try to understand them, they can't pronounce our names, and they stuff us with food after we work. Everyday I've received a hug or tight squeeze from a grandmother and instantly all the pain in my shoulder or cramps in my hands seem worth it. These families are working their land to provide for their families and they would be doing this whether we came along to help them or not – I just sigh and thank God that I have this month to experience their lifestyle and to lighten their burden. It's been awesome piecing together who belongs to what large family group and being welcomed into their homes.
I'm thankful that even though I'm missing the Fall season at home I've been surrounded by colorful trees, bright corn, cinnamon apples, warm drinks, blankets, boots, and fuzzy kittens. The air here is sweet (despite the farm smell) and refreshing. Although we don't have internet or a heater I've felt more content than I have in a long time.
I was reading Richard Foster's Celebration of Discplines, the Simplicity chapter, while sitting on the front steps watching the sunset the other evening. It was one of the moments that with all of the discussion and anticipation of returning to America in 8 weeks I wish I could freeze in time. He shares how, “Simplicity is an inward reality that results in an outward lifestyle.”
I went through a phase in life where I really wished that I could be Amish – not forever but for an experience. There was always something romantic in my teenage mind about living simply with my family. Riding in buggies, sleeping under thick blankets, doing chores, sneaking around with a beau, you get the idea. But, as I've lived here I've realized that in a way I'm at least getting my wish of living a more simple lifestyle for a season. The key is taking the same basis of simplicity: of being content and thankful with me wherever or however I live in the future. For me this month – and really the whole race – has been about finding joy and contentedness in who I am through Christ first and then letting that affect everything else, instead of it being the other way around.
Maybe being cold has gone to my head and heart but, corn has become a good analogy for people. As I've been removing it from it's protective layers, stripping it of it's comfortable coating of soft string, and twisting and ripping it from where it's grown up I've begun to see each cob in a new way. Vulnerable. Raw. Full of potential. Bright. Every time I pull out an impressive looking cob of corn I think of how grateful it should be that it fully developed. That it will serve its purpose. When I pull out a deformed, underdeveloped, or half-eaten cob I still throw it in the same pile with the others… who am I to judge how it can be used? I'm not trying to over-analyze this but, honestly I was just overcome with the reality that people are nothing on their own. It's not a secret that my hearts been softened and drawn towards children with disabilities throughout this year but, again I was reminded and amazed at how God creates each person so uniquely and we can all look and be different on the inside than we seem on the outside.
My current team, It's Always Sunny, still needs some funding. Please pray about supporting Jessica Kim, Jess Hurst, or Hannah Wunder. Thank you! 🙂
