She’s an elderly woman, probably in her mid-sixties. The sun has made its mark on her face, with lines encircling her brown-hazed eyes. She’s a follower of Islam, careful to read her Koran and pray the regular five times a day. And she is a woman seeking truth. Just 24 hours before meeting her, she prayed out to her God for Him to show her truth. Not interested in the religious routines as much as the truth of a real God, she began asking Him the questions.
And there, He met her…
Her name is Fetija and she lives in Montenegro, a country of 700,000 with roughly 200 Christians in the entire nation. In Ulcinj, the city I came to meet her, you cannot make it through your day without hearing at least one of over ten mosques in the city do their regular calls to prayer. The noise vibrates throughout the city, invading every ounce of air so that it is all but impossible to ignore.Fetija and I met on a Sunday morning. The sun was brilliantly shining and it was time to take church to the beach. With only five believers in the city of Ulcinj, there is no organized church meeting, so the group of nine of us racers headed for the beach with Bible and guitar in hand.
The first person I saw as we approached the beach was Fetija. She was lying on the sand beside some lounge chairs. The minute we walked towards her, she perked up and started waving with this beautifully radiant smile on her face. It was irresistible to pass by, so I went over to her and waved back. She instantly grabbed me close, gave me a huge hug, and just held my hand. We stayed like that for a few minutes, just smiling, laughing, and holding hands. I would say things to her like, “Jesus loves you” and “you are a beautiful woman of God.” I knew she didn’t understand, but I also knew she needed those words spoken over her despite language differences.
After a few minutes, I left her and went back to the group to begin worship. Just the night before we had done an all-night prayer time for the country of Montenegro. While physically we were definitely tired, spiritually we were refreshed and energized, knowing God was moving in this country. In between prayer or songs, I would look over and there Fetija was, grinning ear-to-ear, and waving. You couldn’t ignore the joy of this woman; something irresistible was on her.
After we finished singing, I taught for a short while on what it means to walk in both thanksgiving for what He has given us, and declaration for what He is doing. One of the questions I asked the group during that time was how big God had to move in order for us to move from a petitioning prayer position to a declaring position on something we were praying into? Specifically, how big does God have to show His movement in the nation of Montenegro to take us from asking Him to change the country, to declaring that the country is transforming in this moment?
We finished worship and began eating lunch. The next moments were a blur, but I remember sitting on a lounge chair with my lunch in hand and feeling quickly compelled to go bring the rest to Fetija. So over I went, handing her half my lunch, and sitting down with her. We just smiled, laughed, and kept on holding hands. There were 3 of us girls who sat with her on the beach. Despite knowing she couldn’t understand what I was saying, I just began talking to her. I asked her about Jesus – if she knew Him, if she prayed to Him, if she knew how much He loved her. She just smiled and held my hand.
I was about ready to get up and give her a hug goodbye when I saw a figure walking over towards us. Instantly, I recognized the woman as Bukurija, a missionary who we were staying with in Montenegro. She bee-lined it for the group of Fetija and us girls. I remember being so relieved to see her, knowing she would be able to help translate for us.
The minute she got over there, she sat down next to me. “Caroline, I got here as quickly as I could. I was getting dressed and about to fix lunch when I heard the Holy Spirit tell me I needed to come right to the beach to help you guys share the gospel. So here I am.”
to be continued…
