This evening's walk home was a bit shorter than most. Little VW's, Mercedes buses, and 18-wheelers passing at approximately 50 mph. There is a sidewalk about 30% of the time. The remaining 70%, I walk on the road…the same narrow two-lane road as these 18-wheelers. When they get close, I stray off the pavement, stepping to the side into the towering weeds as far away from the road as humanly possible all the while trying not to fall into the ditch. It is pitch black. I thank the Lord for my headlamp. Tonight, my friend Jenna pointed out that I have reflectors on the back of my kicks…another bonus. The money that I poured into those Salomons last month is suddenly worth it. I also thank the Lord for my iPod. Listening to music probably adds to the danger, but it detracts from my uneasiness. Benjah & Dillavou, Everyday Sunday, The Golden Sounds…a little bit of everything.
Today was a village day. We walk a lot on village days. Occasionally we take a bus or two. Sometimes we hitchhike. But mostly, we walk…and sometimes for hours.
I will do my very best to make this post extremely vivid and colorful because there will be no pictures for multiple reasons. Don't worry, it won't be too long. : )
I adore village days. My heart comes alive when I see brown-skinned, half-clothed children running around in the littered dirt…still as happy as can be. I get a reality check. Sometimes I feel embarrassed that I'm wearing "too much" jewelry, so I'll slip off my fake diamond ring or take out my earrings.
Tonight we visited a gypsy village. After a few kilometers on the sketchy road, we followed a gravel back road scattered with animal droppings. Some little boys followed alongside on their bikes. Once we reached our destination, the women showered us with walnuts. In the Hungarian villages, the people will give us some grapes from their vines or biscuit cookies. Walnuts…in their shells…fantastic. After some "meet-and-greet" on the road, they invited us into one of their yards.
There were about 7 women in their long pleated, vibrantly colored, silk skirts. Many children were running about. Tonight, I met a young woman named Catalina and her three children. I was shocked to discover that like myself, she is 23.
And so all of us missionaries, Pastor Zsombar, and all the gypsy folk gathered. We prayed for them. We sang a few songs. Some of the women talked to me and I pretended to understand them. I truly comprehended none of it. We blessed them.
Sometimes I wonder if this is enough…this small talk, praying, singing, and blessing? Most of these people are Jehovah's Witnesses or Seventh Day Adventist's, for they have been evangelized by these groups in previous generations. They were truly thankful for our presence and blessings. But sometimes I wonder if they are more excited about the fact that "wealthy" people from the great land of America came to visit their lowly homes.
So much doubt floods my mind. I long to see God move…break the language barriers, heal the sick, and save souls.
In my journal this morning, I wrote: "I know that I need to hear from You in order for You to move, change hearts. Please do not hold your tongue! Have Your way and use me to accomplish what You want, what You need."
"Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock…" …you know the rest.
Has God not moved? He has. But I still want to see Him move MORE. Because I know He has MORE in store. He longs to bring His Kingdom to earth. Romania is not Africa, but God is the same everywhere. The people of Romania are more cold-hearted than the people of Mexico, but God is still the same. There are barriers that need to be broken. I want them to fall. As I am typing this, my mind still floods with doubt. But, I want this doubt to be gone. I want taste and see signs and wonders. I long for Light to infest this darkness of death and tradition in the cities and villages.
I'm gonna believe. Believe with me and pray profusely.
Ok, that was a little long. I need to catch 3 hours of sleep. Leaving town to see a 15th century castle tomorrow!
God has big things for this land.
