Romona is one of the women staying at Bolintin, a shelter for mentally and physically handicapped women. A tiny, petit figure, she is old enough to be a woman, the wrinkles in her face adding years to her actual age, but in her mental developement, she is still very much a girl. Her stick straight blond hair hangs in a short bob, with one barrette on each side of her bangs always. She has a very serious, almost determined look in her eyes at all times, but hugs and balloons make a huge grin light up her face. She loves to teach you her favorite handshake, with a series of claps and snaps and all the bells and whistles… which she changes every time she tries to teach you and then laughs and shakes her head at your inability to learn it correctly.
It was our second day of ministry at the shelter, and we have an awesome ministry this month: just loving on the girls. That involves everything from sitting and talking with the ones that know some English, giving hugs and holding hands, playing balloon volleyball, singing to them, going on walks, doing Bible studies and playing with their hair. It is such a challenging ministry, knowing that most of them lived on the streets for many years after they were kicked out of orphanages at age 18, many have suffered sexual abuse and almost all have been taken advantage of by people at some point in their lives. Often times they have tried to get jobs to help provide for themselves and the employers rip them off in their wages or refuse to pay them at all. Even seeing them in Bolintin is difficult, because the scars and the emotional damage of their lives leaves them volatile, angry, foul mouthed or sensitive to physical touch. It’s hard knowing how much damage has been done in the past, and trusting that God can use this short time to bless their lives and show them how much they are loved.
On this day, Romona was wearing a pair of red sweatpants that hungs rather long on her skinny legs. When she motioned for help, Elizabeth (one of the missionaries who spends all of her time with the girls) knelt down by her side. I came over to see, and I realized that Romona had two strings of elastic to string through the hems of her pants, making them shorter. Suddenly Elisabeth was being summoned as a translator in some other area of the room, so I quickly knelt down to take her place in project hem-the-pants. As Romona held the end of the string to keep me from losing it in the pants, I knotted the end and wiggled it through the hem all the way back around to where I started.
Now I understand that some of you probably have never sewn or had experience with clothes making… Just understand it’s a little time consuming and takes patience. But Romona was very relaxed, she just sat on the couch holding the end of the string and alternating between watching me fix her pants and watching the activity going on in different areas of the room. As I knelt in front of her, I thought about what a cool opportunity it was to be a servant to these girls. I finished the first pant leg, and a grateful Romona slowly tied the first string together, handed me the second string and placed the next pant leg in front of me. So I moved onto the second one. I was faster doing it on the second one and was soon almost done.
Then Romona looked at my work and started shaking her head and complaining at me. She lifted her leg awkwardly to her face as she looked at the hem, continuing to shake her head and mumble and complain in Romanian. Suddenly she starts tugging on my hand trying to make me let go of the end of the elastic that I have almost completely through the hem. If I let go, I would have to start all over again. So naturally, I held on and Romona continued tugging and complaining loudly. I motioned Elizabeth over to try and see what Romona was doing: apparently, I was doing something wrong with the pants and I needed to start over.
“But it’s ok, I can make this work,” I told Elizabeth. “Tell Romona I’ll fix it.” But Romona would not listen, she kept tugging on my hand and complaining louder and louder. Elizabeth tried several times to figure out what was wrong, but she just kept shaking her head and wouldn’t explain. My fingers stubbornly held on to the elastic in the hem of the pants; I wasn’t about to start over again on the same pant leg! It was in that moment that God spoke to me:
“What is more important to you? The pants, or her?”
I knew I was right. I knew I could hold onto that string longer than she could, I knew I could fix those pants without starting over, and I knew that I would save myself time and energy by doing it my way. But I knew I had a choice: I could hold onto that string and win the fight, or I could let go and win her heart. In that moment, I had to choose Romona over myself. I had to give up my right to be right.
So I let go.
As Romona pulled out the string and set it up for me to start over, I knew it was ok. Why was I fixing the pants to begin with? To bless and love upon this woman who has been through so much in her life… And how am I expressing God’s love when I’m fighting with her over a piece of elastic? I’m not. I had to give up my right to be right. And when my fingers cramped up from wiggling the elastic through the hem, I just shook them out and continued. When I ended the project and let Romona tie the hem exactly how she wanted, I knew I had blessed her. I had given up my right to be right because I loved her.
And that, ladies and gentleman, made my Daddy in heaven smile. 🙂
