Perhaps the lack for blogging since April has made me less creative on blog titles…
Here I am, more than three months since my last blog, trying to get my thoughts out. I’d like to apologize for the lack of “bloggage.” To be honest, it’s been a whirlwind of a time, and I frankly got a little lazy with writing. I hope to be better with keeping this updated throughout my months on the field.
Since my last blog in April I have graduated from grad school (!!), my hero of a grandfather has passed away, I have been to World Race training camp, and left the country to begin this wild journey. I mean, what? I think my head is still spinning.
At the last minute, my squad and I found out that our route would be a tad different than we had first expected. The thing to remember with the World Race however, is to always expect the unexpected. We were informed that our squad would be split into four countries during our first month on the field. My team would be going to Kosovo instead of Bulgaria, and we were pumped. We are in new territory and no other WR team has spent a month’s worth of ministry in this beautiful country before. So here we are, one week in now of the 11 months, and absolutely loving it.
Quick background on Kosovo for those who are unaware (I was): The country just recently gained its independence from Serbia in 2008 after years of severe ethnic tensions, war, and violence. The US and our then-president Clinton had a lot to do with aiding Kosovo in its fight for freedom. In fact, when we arrived here our host informed us that Kosovo is second only to the US in loving and respecting America. They even have a Bill Clinton Boulevard, and a statue of him in the main square of town. What a welcome, right? To take advantage of their freedom even more, we were informed that the spelling and pronunciation Kosova is preferred because it is different than how the Serbs pronounce it. From here on out, I shall do so.
The country is 96% Muslim, and less than one percent are Christians. Less than one percent. Wow. It has been and will continue to be a challenge, but my team and I believe we have been specifically placed here for a reason. It is also the month of Ramadan, which consistently poses interesting challenges, but we are loving the people! Although believers are not persecuted, they are not celebrated in the least. There are some members of the church here who have not even told their parents of their beliefs. It makes me think, would I be as brave if the roles were reversed. If I grew up in Kosova, if the US was less than one percent Christian, if I were afraid to tell my family of beliefs…would I believe in Jesus? Would I be courageous enough to accept Him? Honestly, I don’t know if I would. I’m not quite there yet, but for this reason I have started this journey. I’m trying to put everything I have into Jesus, to be completely sold out to Him. I do know however, that this is a year of emboldening. Jesus is making me more and more brave every day, in every way.
The first thing I noticed upon my arrival to Kosova was the flowers. Flowers are everywhere. I’m talking wildflowers, roses, poppies, tulips, pansies. Flowers on windowsills, flowers in rubble, flowers on the side of the street, flowers poking through cement cracks. I’m not exaggerating, they are beautiful and abundant. I guarantee my teammates are already annoyed of me saying how pretty they are and how much I love them. The dichotomy of the scene is shocking to the system. There it is laid out in front of you: a backdrop of pain and violence emblazoned in rubble and buildings and the faces of people, with the tenderness and light of a flower in the forefront. Think about how strong and courageous those flowers must be, to grow despite their conditions. They don’t have a happy environment. They aren’t rooted in strong, rich soil. They aren’t soaking up fresh and clean air. They are dominated by an environment completely opposite of their own. A tiny happiness poking through a world of pain. Oh, what an inspiration they have been.
I’m just so thankful we serve a God that rebuilds the ruins. The war-torn heart, the battles of my soul, the wreckage of my past, the destitute areas of my life–and still He allows me to flourish. Still, He pulls me out of the ruins. Thank goodness my history has no impact on my value in God’s eyes.
So here’s to the flowers and people of Kosova, may they continue to flourish.
[Finally: our hosts have been wonderful and kind to no end. We are laboring, interacting, serving in any way that we can. We are inundated with constant coffee breaks–hallelujah! Please continue to pray for me and my team]
xoxo
