There are so many things I could say about Romania; the landscape was serene and peaceful, the people friendly and welcoming, and I swear some of the most beautiful children in the world are gypsies. Ministry in Romania was laid-back and fun. We had campfires every night where we worshipped and shared stories about what we saw God doing, inviting the villagers into our fellowship. We held a “kids club” every day at 2pm where we got to hang out, make crafts, and play games with the kids (I’m all boom-chic-a-boomed out). Myself and four other girls stayed with a very giving gypsy family who shared everything they had with us; their whole family even slept in the main room insisting that we take their two bedrooms. I made good relationships with Sanda and Lora, daughters of one of the gypsy pastors, and some of my best friends of the month seemed to be with little girls aged 7-10; they hung all over me and I loved it. We did some sporadic door-to-door ministry as the Spirit led, and I was able to visit a couple of the houses a few times. My favorite to visit was a two-room house overflowing with children that belonged to a member of the church, Niku. He and his wife both had to work during the day, leaving their multitude of children behind. I loved checking in on them and giving some adult interaction.
My little girlfriends
Shiloh, myself, and Janina with our gypsy father, Abie.
You can see our American contact, John, in the back!
Lora and Tutsi (our contact’s wife)
With some of Niku’s kids in their home
Although I loved our time in Romania, I know what we did there was not enough. The desperate cry of Villa Tecci is for discipleship. There are many in the small community who want to follow Christ but they don’t know what it looks like. Their hearts are soft and turned towards God but they are still immature in their knowledge of Him and what a life lived for Him looks like. Please be praying for this, and praying that they would know they are valued and loved. While being in Eastern Europe we have found that there is much racism against the gypsy people, and they still struggle to interact with natives, finding it much safer to stay inside their small villages.
Watching the sun set
I will miss the sunsets and wide open spaces, I will miss the hours of worship to accordion music, I will even miss the big, sloppy kisses I got from the old women each time we said hello and goodbye. But most of all, I will just miss the people; their warmness and generosity is characteristic of who they are, and my heart’s cry is that they would know their value and who they are because of Christ.
