Moldova was the misfit. The “mystery country” that came about after we were told that it would be unsafe for us to go to Turkey. When I first heard that we would be going to Moldova, I wasn’t particularly excited. In my mind it was just an extension of Romania… and besides, I have several friends who have been to Moldova – I wanted some place new and unpioneered by my circle to explore! I had a handful of people messaging me when I received news of the switch. “You’ll love Moldova,” they said, “the people are SO beautiful.” I believed them, but I was also ignorant… “people are beautiful everywhere,” I thought. I resigned myself to believe that Moldova wouldn’t be anything too special, too different from what I had experienced in other countries.
We arrived at our destination around midnight after a long bus ride from Albania. We went to bed quickly after being dropped off at our home for the month, a parsonage next to the Catholic church, and awoke to find that we were out in the middle of nowhere, in a tiny town called Petropavlovca. The first morning, we started shucking corn before sunrise. We were served a hearty soup and bread lunch before making our way to mass. A whole busload of kids confidently sat next to us in the pews, holding our hands tightly and watching us with curious eyes. After mass we played with them until dinnertime. This would be our daily routine. Or, might I say, schedule, because this month felt so far from “routine.” Most mornings we were with a new family shucking corn, but we were always with the same kids, allowing us to build relationships with the the majority of the town.
I could probably go on and on about the people that we met, and the interactions that we had, what I learned about the culture, and all of the things that I got to experience (if you want to know about the mice that shared our beds and food at the parsonage, or the Moldovan funeral that we attended, shoot me an email). However, there was one day in particular that stood out above the rest…
My teammate Bekah and I ended up going to the grocery store to buy food for our team one morning while the rest of No Greater Love headed to start working in the field. When we were driving back from the store, we asked if we would be able to go and help with the rest of our team, but our host didn’t know their exact location and therefore was unable to take us. Still wanting to work, we asked if there were other opportunities for us to serve. We ended up being sent to a woman named Maria, to help her bring in her corn harvest. It started out just like any other day of shucking. We got about two large piles done before we were summoned in for some food. Lunches in Moldova are typically full of laughter and occasionally awkward silences as we use what little Russian we know to make some sort of conversation. We came to find out (through hand gestures, “da’s” and “neit’s”) that she had at one point had surgery and because of it got frequent headaches. We also at one point learned that she was married, but her husband spent the majority of days smoking and drinking… she did so much to make ends meet and keep their farm running! After lunch, we were told that it would be enough work for the day, but we felt as though we still had some energy to help. She insisted that we stop and rest, and even offered up some beds in her house for us to take a nap. We headed home, but promised we would return soon to do at least one more pile. We went back to Maria’s about a half hour later and began shucking. Around dinnertime, we were invited inside her kitchen (which is a pretty big deal) and she started handing us ingredients to cook what they call “chips” (aka egg and flour fried in oil and coated in sugar). It was beginning to get dark, and she asked us if we wanted to stay the night! We politely declined, and walked home with happy hearts and an agreement that we were so blessed to have had the opportunity to be in her presence. The Lord obviously had a plan for us that afternoon. The next morning we awoke to learn that Bekah and I would be going back to her home! And the next day as well, followed by the next day. Four days of shucking corn, getting fed delicious Moldovan food, but most importantly speaking broken Russian and broken English with our new Mama, Maria.
There seems to be a trend in my time on the World Race so far… I come into each month with expectations, only to discover that I’m completely wrong (often prideful) in my thinking. I think it’s safe to say that Moldova does hold some of the most beautiful people I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting. I’m thankful that we serve a God who gives us purposeful experiences and interactions that shake up our perception of the world and cause us to realize that we can be completely irrational and fool ourselves into believing half-truths too frequently. The lie is that different people and different places don’t have new things to offer… that they (you, and I) are no different from our neighbor… we don’t have something that unique to contribute). But, the truth is that the world is a beautiful place, and all of the people in it reflect the beauty of God (2 Corinthians 3:18)! We need that beauty together in order to see the fullness of who He is (1 Corinthians 12)!
Will you join with me in latching onto the expectation of truth that all people have something to offer? Much beauty to share?
