I miss Bosnia.
Why?
Because it took me back to what is important in a church. It took me back to the simplicity of loving people well. I saw how powerful a church can be stitched together, building each other up, and making a difference in their community – even when it is a majorly Muslim community.
You see, love is accepted across religions and across cultural differences.
It unites.
It doesn’t tear down and divide.
There is a reason the Lord said the greatest of these is love and that we love because He first loved us. It’s not always easy to choose into love – it’s hard when you don’t know someone, or when they give you no reason to earn your love.
But you can’t negate the fact that the Lord loves you wholly and unconditionally. And because you receive love even though you have done nothing to deserve that love is exactly why you’re capable of turning your cheek to the pitfalls and differences of others. To love them because they are human, because they bleed, they’re imperfect, they hurt, they laugh, they joke, they breathe just like you.
We get caught up in why we love people, but honestly there should be no preface to your love for someone. You can choose into loving them before you even know them. We simply love because we are loved. See 1 John 4:19!! The Lord chose to love us, so we should choose to love people, regardless of what we know about them. Genuine love, given for no reason, is a rare trait and doesn’t go unnoticed. It actually draws attention to yourself, and in turn it draws attention to God because it is His love we are following after.
This is different from how the world loves and therefore catches the attention of others.
This month I learned to love so many parts of Bosnia.
The beautiful mountains and windy roads we drove down on the many road trips we made in this month. The small church that opened their homes and their hearts to us Americans. The kids we danced with at the special-needs school prom. The math students we laughed with. The pastor’s wife (Lela) who made sure our clothes were washed – which is no small task when you think about how big the pile was for the 7-people staying in their church. The pastor’s provision for our lunches and snacks on our road trips. The woman I played dominos with every Thursday at the elderly home. The hugs that everyone in the church embraced us with since day one till our last days. The interest they took at house groups in our love for Jesus, personal backgrounds, and the choice to quit our American comforts for a year…
This church really knew how to love outsiders and insiders alike. It embodied Christ’s love well. I admired how the people of the church go without a need for recognition or honestly, the impressiveness of their will to push through and not take time for granted.
I fell in-love with the refugees they seek out. They found the actual needs of Bosnia and figured out how to help in ways that were truly necessary.
This is just one detailed account of how they dove into a love that doesn’t go unnoticed and let us come alongside them.
A few minutes before we saw what was the largest unmet need I personally have ever seen ministry wise, a man told us, ”down the road, when you pass the bridge take a right.”
Where were we going?
A refugee corridor. A place where many people who were running from their country for one reason or another had congregated. All of us in the car were in anticipation of what this place may look like. Our hosts heard there was a need in these corridors, but exactly what was needed was unknown. We were going to see what ways the church could help. Mind you to get to these places it was a 6-hour drive from their city.
We passed the bridge and took a right down a muddy dirt road. We pulled into this tucked-in grassy yard. We got out of our car into the chilly, rainy air.
And just like that, we found ourselves in the midst of playing volleyball, meeting families, helping build makeshift tents with this roll of hefty plastic and skinny wood pieces, looking around at this damp field, talking to people about how they need clean water, and that the porta-potties are overfilled and they have no place to use the restroom.
Then after a quick night’s rest at a hotel, we went on to another refugee corridor an hour away. Thankfully the Lord brought new hope, strength, and joy in the morning. I found myself laying my head down the night before thinking about how desperate the first corridor was. Thinking I had never seen anything like this before and I don’t know if my heart can handle seeing it ever again but at the exact time knowing that’s the only place I want to be right now. This next corridor was better in some ways – like the working toilets, running water, and one meal a day the red cross hands out. But in other ways it was worse – like the dilapidated building they were squatting in, crowded with 700 people, sleeping in puddles of water that hadn’t dried out in days, and by the smell of it you could tell it was completely unsanitary.
We walked in and talked to people. I sat down at a table they had set up for the one meal red cross can give them and talked to a young child who knew far more than he should for his age about immigration policies, asking me details about what it’s like in America for refugees. Talking about it like you would talk to someone about an everyday hobby they had, as we slid a pinecone back and forth on the table, trying not to let it fall on the floor. I couldn’t help but think about the fact that most boys his age want to talk about super heroes, movies, and sports. Then I said bye to him because I was asked to help the red cross pass out a less than adequate, but better than nothing, lunch.
To be continued…
TTFN,
Jenny
