I don't think I'll ever be able to stop singing the praises of Romania and everything that comes with it. I posted a status yesterday about our mission house we're staying in: no running water, outdoor outhouses, questionable power, and sketchy wifi, feels like home! My family quickly commented on it, all with the same joke, about how I should feel right at home on the farm what with how we all grew up. They're probably right but either way, I'm in love.
On top of all this, the ministry side is like a dream to me. I get the chance, along with my team to go on house visits to the few christians that are scattered from town to town and encouraging them through conversation, Bible studies, and prophetic words/prayer. The problem with this is we keep going in, excited to bless people, and they keep blessing us more than we could ever bless them!!! Here we are trying to be the big bad powerhouse christians and you can just tell from the way they hold themselves and just from looking into their eyes. I've never experienced anything like this before, especially not in the states. Christians in America would be victims, put in their situation and yet these guys are prosperous!!! We went into one house yesterday and as we talked, we foundout that they were extremely poor and hadn't even made close to the normal paying rate the last two days so we planned to buy produce from them to make up for lost income. Well, we still got our produce, but they fed us a feast while we were there that the refused to let us pay for including literally the best home made cheese and bread I've ever eaten as well as home grown grapes and some coke. Every time we cleaned off the table, they brought in more and more food. We didn't even have room for dinner….what in the world is this???
The crazy thing is…. when you look at these believers, it doesn't take being a seer or prophetic to pick up on what they carry, they just naturally radiate it. In towns full of hopelessness and poverty, these few believers shine and can be seen from down the street. Where there is darkness, grace shines through even brighter.
I am wrecked and don't know how I could ever go back to what I previously defined "radical christianity" to be. I've never felt so honored to pray and speak life over somebody in my life as these people, these pioneers, these laid down lovers. I get a month full of this in Romania, and this is only the start. How could I ever go back to being the same? How could I ever even go back in general?
Depending on which parent you ask, my name is based off two different people. According to my mom, I'm named after Jedidiah in the Bible, the name Nathaniel the prophet gave to Solomon. If you ask my dad, it's Jedidiah Smith, the famous mountain man who walked across the United States 3 seperate times. The Jedidiah Smith National Park is named after him, a forrest full of giant redwood trees, deep rooted and towering above all others. I flourish in a place like this. The mix of pioneering a new way as well as doing so based around making the Lord's prayer, "your kingdom come, your will be done" a reality.
It's fully possible I've finally found home.
