I’ll speak the truth with you: having come to Romania from Greece, I was not in an excellent place emotionally or spiritually. There were several reasons for this, but when it really came down to it, it was just me being a bit bratty.
I did not want to leave the refugees in Greece. If it had been my choice, I would have lived with them maybe forever. I loved them in their brokenness and need. It made me feel heroic for Jesus. Upon arriving in Romania, instead of refugees on every street corner and under every tree, there were Gypsies. I declared I “didn’t feel called to the Gypsies; just give me the refugees, because their situations are not by choice. They’re the ones who really need me.”
“Beautiful” is not a word I would ever use to describe the town of Draganesti. Instead I would use “dusty, dirty, and boring”. There was no place to go other than to the Penny Supermarket which didn’t even have tortilla wraps. One had to be constantly aware while walking the streets or shopping in the grocery store, because the Gypsy kids are quite skilled in their pick-pocketing tactics. They were constantly inside my bubble, being inappropriate in their speech, looks, and actions. I just didn’t like it.
On top of all that, there were about a dozen other things causing an extreme sense of frustration in my spirit. The feeling was familiar, and I quickly recognised it from Bulgaria. That’s when I declared it must have to do with the ex-Communist countries, and the oppression that still hangs so heavily in the air. The lack of emotion I noticed in everyone, especially the absence of joy, drove me crazy. The culture is one of strict rules, even at the swimming pool: “don’t jump; contain your hair in a pony tail holder; you can’t wear clothes into the pool”. I was mortified by the spirit of rebellion this oppression created in myself, because this was out of character for me.
Finally I began to make better sense of things and realised this isn’t just a temporary malfunctioning of character; this is spiritual warfare coming in ways I didn’t expect to see. After that, I began resurfacing from some of the muddle I had been drowning in. That’s when God began doing the real work in me, which was this:
Because I am a person who knows exactly what I want in almost every area of my life, I have a closet shelf of organised boxes, all of them labeled by subject and then a detailed list of what fits inside. There’s a box for everything- my ideal ministry; my ideal type of country in which I want to do long-term missions; my future husband (if one exists); my ideal friend community; and many more things. I have assured myself that because all of these things are good, then this must surely be exactly what God wants for me, too. Why would He give me something that’s not how I want it? If something doesn’t fit inside my box, then it must not be from God. In my stubbornness and pride, I declared I’d rather do without than have something misfitted.
When God began meddling with my boxes, I freaked out. Why would he tamper with something I thought was so in alignment with Him? (Just writing this makes me cringe at the stench of my own pride.) After several very hard days of His dealing mercilessly with me, I finally began to crack. I started to understand that maybe all this time what I thought was me fighting for what He wanted was just me trying to customise His will for my life. This month has consisted of every day God refining my faith, testing my trust, and challenging my courage. I have come to points of new surrender and faith, just to look up at Him and see His eyes fixed on me again, asking, “Will you come a little further?”. Inside I groan, “Lord, I’m still sore from the last stretching.”. But, the love in His eyes is irresistible and the challenge rousing, so with shaking voice I whisper “Yes. I want what You want for my life, whether it’s what I pictured or not”.
Amidst the breaking and stretching, I have also experienced joy in Romania. These are some of the highlights:
*Gyspy kids clinging to me like I was a monkey bar, then bidding me farewell with slobbery kisses on my lips
*Attending an Orthodox Romanian wedding reception from 9 pm to 5 am the next day, being served a 7-course meal, and catching the bouquet
*Being neighbours with a baby girl exactly the age of my niece who I’ve not met yet (I’ve prayed for this since before my niece Avah was born)
*Becoming friends with the unlikeliest people
In all of this, I have found beauty where I declared I’d never find it.
God is tricky sometimes. He knows exactly what it takes for me to learn the lessons I need to learn. And now He’s reminded me again-
I can trust Him.
Fully.
Completely.
