In Moldova my team went to a tiny 8 person church in a remote village for a night of
worship, and when we walked in, we learned that the church is entirely a
community of Babushkas who, without speaking a word of English, hugged us
tightly and kissed us on the cheeks and silently said they loved us with their
wrinkled eyes that had smiled-and certainly laughed- at their often difficult lives
and calloused hands that had never had a day off from incredibly hard work.
That night I was surrounded by mighty women of God who had bravely walked
through life: they had borne children and kissed them goodbye, because it is
nearly impossible to find work in Moldova; they had gotten their hands dirty in
farms and fields and vineyards, breaking their backs but never eating the bread
of idleness; they had loved deeply and probably stayed up late nights crying
out to God. These women had passed through His refining fire, and now as their
bodies begin their final decline, they are able to pour out comfort and
affection to a team of young missionaries who are wandering the world for a
year, sharing the love of Jesus even at the cost of the love of our own
families.
Being
surrounded by these beautiful Babushkas was a little bittersweet. These women,
with their toothy smiles and constant motions for us to eat more (“why thank
you, but I must insist that eight
pieces of cake is more than I could possibly eat, and no, in one sitting I
don’t actually think I can be any less skinny than I am now, dear grandmother”)
reminded me so much of my Granny and Po Po (my grandma’s) Sitting in their midst, being counted equal
with these women who, despite every language and cultural difference, were the
women that I would naturally look up and love to shower with hugs and kisses
made me feel so at home and simultaneously feel a million miles away. It was just awesome to see these babushkas love on us like they were our own grandma’s. Their kids are long gone because as a young adult there isn’t much work in Moldova, so it was great acting in as substitute grandchildren for them. Also, we are on the race without our own grandmas to take us in and feed us way more than we could ever thought humanly possible to fit in our belly. So it was a win win for both of us! You don’t have to go on the World Race
to love on people; you don’t have to leave your home to be Jesus to people who
need Him.
In life, we don’t always get to
choose the people around us. But we do get to choose how to treat them, whether
or not to love them, how much we’re willing to sacrifice our own chocolate and
comforts and even life. Yesterday is behind us and
tomorrow is waiting to see what we choose to do today, so all past mistakes
over, it’s time for me to choose to walk forward and love the people around me-
Babushkas and street kids and team and all.
