We got picked up from the Bucharest airport around 10 pm. I rode in the back of a seven-passenger van and looked out the window as we drove. And for the first time after touching ground in 13 countries (four continents) and living life in seven different countries over the past eight months, I experienced culture shock. I felt uncomfortable and uneasy seeing the driver on the left side of the car, driving on the right side of the road. I looked outside as we passed fully-lit gas stations next to car dealership after car dealership, and I had to close my eyes for the rest of the trip.
The next morning, after getting some breakfast (a baked good from Profi and a tiny coffee from a vending machine, probably), we walked to our church building in Draganesti-Olt. We walked into the sanctuary with soft worship music playing in the background in a language I knew, I saw the artfully placed, minimalistic cross on the wall above the stage which had two guitars and a keyboard, and I thought,
“God, I don’t want this.”
Romania has my heart so confused. I love it here. The culture is so different from what I’ve experienced in Africa and Asia over the past six months. There is endless access to bread, coffee, and flowers (three of my favorite things), I get to wear clothing that makes me feel like an actual human, and I get to do ministry that I’m gifted in (office work and building relationships, hooray). I’m loving it, genuinely.
But as I lie in my comfy bed (WHAT) in a house with windows and a spiral staircase, I’m conflicted. I’d missed these comforts so much (like actually daydreamed about having a fluffy pillow on multiple occasions last month) and was so excited to have chairs and familiar food and hot showers. I thought that having them would make it easier to be refreshed and ready to do scheduled ministry here, but I’m feeling burdened by the life of comfort I’ve been living and grown to expect prior to the Race. I’ve realized how much I’d thought of these things as necessities, but God provided everything I needed to do His work and be content when all I had was outhouses and dirt floors and hot chocolate for dinner.
So after a little inward cry session (I don’t cry a lot from my eyeballs, though it would be convenient this month with our peach scented two-ply toilet paper to wipe the tears), I asked the Lord what He had for me this month.
I am not entirely sure of that answer, but He’s shown me that He can and will use me regardless of my circumstances, even if they’re really comfortable (what a weird lesson to learn). In Philippians, Paul, from prison, says the Lord had taught him to be content in every situation. So I’m learning to just approach comfort with thankfulness instead of guilt and to be open and willing to what the Lord has for me here in a place that feels so familiar yet so different. And I’m very, very excited to share with you guys whatever He shows me this month!
Thanks for tracking with me.
Much love always,
Amy
