Written: 3/4/14 – 1300H
Well, here we are: Europe. Latvia. Riga. Africa is done and gone, but the experience of God I had there is not lost on me. I am still riding the high of love and relational closeness with God and have brought it to Latvia with me. I am just too darn happy and joyful… more so now that we are here in Europe. Guys, I'm in Riga. This place is beautiful. The architecture is phenomenal. The old churches, the narrow, cobblestone streets, the COLD!
The cold brings the look and feel of winter. Cold temperatures near freezing, chilling wind, and overcast skies that put a gray tinge to the world around you. One might say it's depressing. In fact, one or two of my teammates have expressed the feeling of depression, oppression, sadness, etc. But I don't feel that. I certainly can see that in some people's faces and understand that feeling of darkness here. Latvia has been independent from Russia and the clutches of Communism since 1991, but the effects of it are still visible in the dilapidated and run-down condition of buildings and also seen in the faces of some of the people. But still, I feel joy.
Not a single person has said that "need" to feel sad here. My teammates don't ask me why I don't feel the oppression the same way they do. Still, the enemy is trying to convince me to feel oppressed, to feel the sadness of the people here. He is trying to convince me that God is not here, that God is not capable of being here and that Latvians aren't capable of redemption. I'm very well aware of the enemy and his attempts to keep the people here under a spirit of oppression, but I absolutely refuse to take my eyes off of the Lord only to be discouraged by absolute lies.
Yes, it is true: You walk down the street and are not randomly greeted by passers by. You are rarely looked at with a smile. Most people look at the ground when they walk. The public behavior is actually quite reminiscent of the United States. A vivid contrast to Africa where people are generally warm and welcoming, will look you in the eye, greet you with a smile, laughter, a hand shake and personal conversation. So when compared to that, I can see how Latvians might look depressed, sad, hopeless. But Latvians are very formal people, as well. They don't use lots of hand gestures or physical contact in conversation, they aren't loud in public, they are reserved. They are polite. They are hard. I actually don't see people sad and struggling. I see people who are strong, emotionless on the outside perhaps, but they are willing to fight for their way of life and will do whatever it takes to survive. It is their way of life, their history. It's what you have to do to survive under the iron curtain of Communism. So rather than seeing hopeless people, I see people that have just truly laid eyes on the vista of freedom and are ready and willing to receive redemption.
On Sunday, I went to two church services. In both services, I saw a people that was hungry for more of God. Singing, worshiping, breaking bread, taking communion, talking and sharing with each other. There was joy, peace and love. It seems that the love and joy of the Latvian people is not strewn about for all to see. It is reserved, it is intentional and intimate.
Today just before writing this blog, I was pointed to Psalm 42, which describes my joy and attitude right now and perhaps that of the Latvian people as well. What God encourages me with while concluding this bog is that it's perfectly acceptable, in fact it is ideal and most beneficial to be joyful right into the face of the enemy. He hates that. Don't give him a foothold with doubt and sadness. He doesn't deserve that much credit. Keep your eyes locked on Jesus, stand firm and walk boldly along side Him into any place to bear the gifts of love.
Psalm 42:1-11 NIV – As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God? My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me all day long, “Where is your God?” These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I used to go to the house of God under the protection of the Mighty One with shouts of joy and praise among the festive throng. Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember you from the land of the Jordan, the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar. Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me. By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me— a prayer to the God of my life. I say to God my Rock, “Why have you forgotten me? Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy?” My bones suffer mortal agony as my foes taunt me, saying to me all day long, “Where is your God?” Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.
