When I thought of ministry opportunities, the ones I envisioned ranged from children's ministry (which we did) to preaching (which we also did) to possibly street evangelism (which we kind of did).
I never expected was to find myself in the middle of a Moldovan bakery, singing worship music to a Russian speaking audience of bakers and cake designers, with a pastor's wife and children watching from the doorway. And yet, on the way home from the church one windy afternoon, this is where my team found ourselves, guitars strumming and voices rising in praises to our Heavebly Father.
When it was all over, the owner of the bakery gave us some free bread and Easter cakes (a Moldovan tradition), and we walked out clutching our dinner and dessert/ We had walked into the bakery on a whim, never expecting to be so blessed, and never really expecting to bless anyone else, either.
It's funny how God doesn't just let us wander around a neighborhood day after day without setting up a divine appointment.
As I said, we walked into the bakery on a whim, hoping to buy whatever it was that was permeating the air with its delicious, freshly baked scent. When the owner saw we were Americans, he gladly opened his doors, and though there was no bread for sale, he graciously gave us some for free and asked if we would play and sing for him (a missionary never leaves the house without his guitar). As we started, the pastor's wife wandered in- apparently it was her first time in the bakery, too.
After we performed, Olga was able to speak to the owner, and now the church will be able to start actively reaching out to the people within the hot little brick building.
Sometimes, ministry comes in funny forms. Sometimes it means being willing to reach out to people that no ne else will, and being the bridge to close the gap between the church and the community. Sometimes those unexpected ministries are the best ones.
