It was the typical story. A family of 6. The mom left for
work two years ago and disappeared somewhere in Kazakastan. I assumed a case of human trafficking. The dad was a shepherd and an alcoholic. The 13 year old was left to take care of her
younger brother and two sisters. They
were awaiting the return of their mom. She was going to rescue them.
They slept above the stove and on a dirty mattress right
beside the cat and her three kittens. Brightly
colored bandanas covered uncombed, lice infected curls. Blackened pots and pans with weeks old,
molded food sat on top of the broken chest. Mounds of clothes were strewn across the dirt floor. The smell of
dampened hopes hit me as I entered the room. Through the streaked windowpane, a single beam of light cast a spotlight
on the shattered dreams that hung defeated on the broken bed frame. I could not shake the feeling that something
ugly had taken place in here before.
We cleaned. We
burned, a lot. We cut hair and gave
bathes. We painted doors blue and tore
down cracked walls. Then the mom came
home. True story. The reality was the mom standing in front of
me, holding her 3 year old daughter. The
kid hung on to her mom as though she knew her. The mom had the opposite affect on the 13 year old. Did the mom really just reappear after two
years? And ironically during the time the church was coming to their aid? Was she trafficked in the past? What was the
true story?
I do know she cried. Actually, she wailed. She also
yelled. While I do not know the whole
truth of what was happening before my eyes, I do know there was pain and
brokenness. There was desperation and
separation. I wish that I could wrap up
this ‘story' for you so it could be beautifully wrapped with a happy ending,
but I cannot. I do know that the church
body in Slobozia is still working on the house and the mom is present. But other than that, the memory remains fresh
and continues to paint a very real picture in my spirit of life in
Moldova.
A week before arriving in Moldova for the second time, they
held their presidential elections. Long
story short, it was political corruption at its best. One candidate was democratic (for the people
and for change) and one was ‘communist' (for the control of society). People who had been dead for quite some time
even appeared to cast their vote for the communist party; thus, Moldova remains
"communist". Of course, the younger
generation protested and the government pushed back. According to my friends in Moldova, the
president had many of the girls (protestors) arrested, transported them to a
make-shift prison, and held them hostage to be used and raped by government
officials. The protesting has yet to
resurface and Moldova still lies in the jaws of the wolf...
This is reality. Yet,
...God wants to pour down His blessings upon Moldova. I just have a feeling about this one. The land is fertile and the vineyards are
abundant. The wine flows freely, the
seeds are planted in the rich, black soil and the red tulips and fragrant
lilacs are in full bloom. In the bible,
wine and a good crop are symbols of abundance and blessing. While Moldovan wine is loved all over the
world – locals are not so lucky. If they
are fortunate enough, they may be able to savor one drop of the blessing upon
their parched tongue. Human trafficking,
alcoholism, corruption, greed and fear – to name a few – steal hope from this
tiny country. (I highlighted the general
overview of Moldova and it's "issues" during my first visit. Read Moldova and Me.)
During my three weeks in Moldova, I was able to spend it in
two villages: Slobozia and Cornesti. I
think that Slobozia stole the drop of blessing from Cornesti. Slobozia is a quaint village near the
Ukrainian border where the sunrise brings life and the church is thriving,
while Cornesti is located in the dead center of Moldova and is being smothered
from all sides from the burdens of it's people. It is a dead village where it takes the breath of a windstorm to keep
the tiniest flame lit.
I first want to highlight my week in Slobozia, followed by
the two weeks in Cornesti.
While in Slobozia, 5 of us girls had the privilege of
staying with an amazing family of 5 boys and 1 girl. A hard working family who feeds hearty stomachs
from their vegetable garden and fruit trees, drinks their own milk and makes
their own perogies (European ravioli with potatoes and brinza). Think 1800's and picture me as a
pioneer. I loved itJ The dad has been the town pastor for around
20 years and the boys rally the youth. In Slobozia, the church is an active body. Praise God for that because there are plenty
of gardens to be planted, homes to clean and lives to heal.
Alongside the church members, we were able to practice our
gardening skills: planting potatoes, beans and cucumbers and hoeing entire
fields until our arms about fell off. (Due to my many years of service at Fergusons and being trained by only
the best ...thanks mom and dad... I soon came to be known as the master gardener!)
In fact, one afternoon – our unlikely tribe of 7 – was an
answer to prayer. Earlier that day, an
older women had prayed for God to send her husband and her workers to help them
plant their garden. They were thinking
of hiring some able bodies when we stumbled across their path and offered our
services. The rest of the day was spent
digging holes and planting potatoes and hoeing rows and sewing bean seeds. Later, we found out the entire story. While the old women was a Christian, her
husband was not. God answering her
prayer in such a direct manner was a clear testimony to His provision. While we were planting seeds in the natural,
we know that God was planting them in the supernatural!
We were also able to spend a lot of time with the youth of
the church...
and in fellowship
around the kitchen table.
The church also came to the aid of a very poor family in
need. Little did we know that we were walking into
the middle of an unfolding drama...
You'll just have to watch the video below the understand the line "Brinza in the Soup". Brinza is the traditional Moldovan cheese that we put on/in EVERYTHING we ate: soup, maccaroni, rice, bread, salad, cookies...
All I can say is I love Moldova and Brinza!
Enjoy the video...it's a taste of the Moldovan blogs to come.
My second journey with the World Race finished a few nights
ago when I was crowned with a pink Ukrainian butterfly tiara at our squad
banquet. It matches beautifully with my
coconut shell butterfly necklace. About
three weeks ago, I started a three point blog: A Wine Challis, Butterfly and Silver Key. The first two rolled off my
tongue while I was in Romanian. But then
I disappeared into the "black hole" called Moldova. It appeared as though I had disappeared off
the face of the earth, which, unfortunately, paints an all too accurate
portrait of what happens to many Moldovan children and women. (Blogs about my time in Moldova are coming
soon – so please stay tuned!)
For the moment, I want to return to the butterfly. Transformation. I want to tell you about the beautiful
transformation that took place in the lives of 32 individuals over the past 11
months. While countries flew by –
Mexico, Guatemala, Nicaragua, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, Myanmar, England,
Mozambique, Swaziland, South Africa, Malawi, Romania, Moldova and Ukraine - one
thing stayed the same: our Father. One
jealous Father whose love changes lives.
It's still very difficult for me to find words to explain
how I feel. My heart is imploding and
exploding all at the same time. Joy in
watching them (my squad) soar, yet a sense of loss in seeing them leave the
nest. Pride in their victory, yet pain
that naturally accompanies a runner at the end of a race. Love cuts deep into one's spirit; yet
entwines lives eternally.
I am so proud of each one of you: not for what you have
done, but for WHO YOU ARE. And if you
only remember one thing, let it be this – "You are still the same person right
now (in America), that you were in Nicaragua or Cambodia or Mozambique or
Romania. God did not transform you throughout the past 11 months for you to
just forget WHO HE IS or WHO HE HAS CREATED YOU TO BE. You are a Hebrew's 11 saint. Read it...everyday if you need to. Your faith in God's character changed the
lives of prostitutes in Pattaya and Hi Chi Minh City. Your faith in God's name
restored the lives of once hopeless and voiceless women in Swaziland. Your faith in the truth that God is the one
and only God challenged the belief system of Muslims in London and Malawi. Your faith in the idea that God is the Father
to the fatherless comforted orphans in Mozambique and youth in Moldova. Your faith in the notion that God can do what
He says He can do raised people from the dead and brought them into the Kingdom
in 26 countries across the world!"
I love each one of you and Thank God for you. Each of you has impacted my life more than
you will ever know. My butterfly crown
off to you! This video is dedicated to YOU and your transformation!
Thank you supporters and prayer warriors for believing in my
squad and me. I hope that as you watch
the video, you will see the impact that you had on the lives of 32 racers. Because of you, I had the opportunity to
serve them and love them along their jouney.
(Sidenote: I am currently helping out at another World Race
squad's debrief in Romania. In a few
days, I head off for my European adventure with a best friend from home. I'll return to the states on June 20th.)
Enjoy this video that one of my squad mates made. This is a true testimony of the joys, trials and challenges of living in community. Congrats to my squad for being the first World Race squad to finish with all 32 that started 11 months ago. Actually, for finishing with one more than we started with - Congrats to Josh and Tara Bruce for being 2 months pregnant! Love you guys...
When I was around ten years old, I dressed up as a gypsy for Halloween – complete with my long colorful skirt, bandana and large hoop earrings. A gypsy was always a mystical character that lived in my head alone. Little did I know, that over the past few years, the free spirit that appears to govern the path of some gypsy families has also had a hand in navigating my nomadic lifestyle. (Over the past 5 years, I have lived in St. Paul for 1 year, my hometown for 1 year off and on, around 16 different countries for a month each and all 48 of the continental United States for a week each.) Just like the gypsies, "home" is a bit of a foreign concept – it's where I brush my teeth at the end of the day.
For the past two weeks, I have been living with gypsies in a small village near the Transylvania mountains in Romania (yes, yesterday we visited one of the so called Dracula castles). According to worldly standards, gypsies are the outcasts of society: they are lazy, poor and a nuisance to those around them. Gypsies do not have a homeland and typically live a nomadic lifestyle. They travel country to country to find work – digging ditches, picking oranges, construction...
Gypsies living in Romania are often not viewed as citizens of Romania. Moldovan gypsies are not from Moldova. My gypsy clans even have their own language, customs, songs, food and flag. Their identity is found in their gypsy heritage, independent upon where they live.
"All these faithful ones died without receiving what God had promised them, but they saw it all from a distance and welcomed the promises of God. They agreed that they were no more than foreigners and nomads here on earth. And obviously people who talk like that are looking forward to a country they can call their own. If they had meant the country they came from, they would have found a way to go back. But they were looking for a better place, a heavenly homeland. That is why God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a heavenly city for them." Hebrews 11:13-16
Many of the gypsies I have lived with and served alongside these past few weeks know that their citizenship lies in an eternal kingdom – heaven.
Gypsies remind me of the Karen that live in Myanmar and Thailand: both are outcasts, forgotten and are not considered citizens of the earthly countries in which they reside. The silver key I wear around my neck represents Kingdom: "And I will give you the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven..." (Matt. 16:19a). I found it 5 months ago on a street on the Thai/Myanmar border while walking with some of my Karen friends. As I have mentioned before, I have a very special place in my heart for the Karen people.
God's kingdom longs to evade earth and touch the hearts of His sons and daughters all over the world.
Love – whether demonstrated by physical acts of service or Holy Spirit manifestations – is a visible kiss of His Kingdom on earth. While here in Romania, we have cleaned rugs, visited homes, washed dishes, delivered food, eaten food... We have taught English, played with kids, shared healing stories with women, testified to God's glory in church services, colored eggs for Easter, prayed for healing and listened.
"Thy kingdom come, on earth as it is in Heaven..."
baking Easter bread
face painting
manual labor
Katy. visiting homes of local believers
Gaby and me...his mom is his 16 year old sister
Jenny. Praying for healing.
girls time...listening and sharing our stories
Easter egg hunt
Sandu and Me. A gypsy pastor who is our adopted Romanian dad
Tomorrow I head to Moldova where I will spend the final 2 1/2 weeks before final debrief.
(Please read The Wine Challis first.)
"All I have is yours. And all you have is mine."
In a covenant, two parties share EVERYTHING. Two become One. A covenant is an everlasting agreement between two individuals. Throughout history, all covenants between God and humanity have been God initiated. Ever since the beginning of time, God has been in pursuit of His beloved, His church. He desires to be in a relationship with his creation. He has never broken a covenant with us. Unfortunately, we, mankind, cannot say the same...would I be lying if I deem the church "The Runaway Bride"?
Here in Romania, most churches operate off the Orthodox calendar, thus Easter is actually celebrated this Sunday – a week after it is celebrated in America. All week long people in the village prepare for this special holiday by baking bread and cookies, cooking special foods, cleaning there homes, dying Easter eggs. Hospitality and family are focal points in the gypsy culture. Thus, upon entering homes of local believers, I would estimate that I have eaten over 10 green and red hard boiled eggs, 6 pieces of cake, 11 cookies, a loaf of home-made bread, a pot of potatoes, way too many grilled sausages (and a few sticks of butter for flavor!); upon leaving a home, I have received over 100 kisses on both cheeks accompanied by hearty hugs. I guess that's how Jesus feeds you when you enter a home in fellowship.
Easter. The turning point in history for me and for you. God gave us himself. He poured out his blood as the everlasting lasting covenant. He sealed the fate of humanity. If we choose Him, we choose life. He initiated a marriage relationship with me. He is the bridegroom, and when I accept Him into my life as my personal savior who died for my sins, I become His bride. We have entered into a covenantal relationship.
As His church, we live far below the covenantal provision God intends for us to live.
When God says "All I have is yours, and all you have is mine", He really means it. I have a very difficult time understanding fully what this means. But I think that I am beginning to get it...
If all I have is His, then my death, my sins, my pain, my burdens, my joys, my enemies, my time, my money...my life is His. All I have to offer Him is ME.
If all He has is mine, then all of heavens resources are available to me: eternal life, victory over death, freedom, joy, hope, sonship, love, patience, authority, healing, the keys of the kingdom...
As the church, we need to understand the significance of the covenant in order to carry out the work of Jesus. We need to continue where Jesus left off. In order to do that, we need to understand the authority He gives us through the Holy Spirit and boldly walk as heirs of His kingdom. The enemy is no match for a believer armed with covenant authority!
I am a daughter of the King who is sent out into the world with God's authority, power and victory through the Holy Spirit. All He has is mine. The poor, the orphan, the lost, the widow, the sick are mine to love. Because they are His, they are mine.
The more I discover about the depths of His intense love for me, the more I fall in love with Him. I feel like I am just on the edge of discovering how to walk out this covenantal relationship in my everyday life. Walking in victory and truly believing the words "Your Kingdom Come, on earth as it is in heaven".
"We are confident of all this because of our great trust in God through Christ. It is not that we think we can do anything of lasting value by ourselves. Our only power and success come from God. He is the one who has enabled us to represent his new covenant. This is a covenant, not of written laws, but of the Spirit. The old way ends in death; in the new way, the Holy Spirit gives life." 2 Cor. 3: 4-6
This symbol represents the Cup of the New Covenant;
the Cup of unbroken relationship.
"Do this in remembrance of ME."
‘Taste and see that I AM God
The First, The Last, The Same
Drink and eat,
I'll complete the work for which I came
Living Waters flow from deep within My Vine
fruit of My flesh,
your skin's made fresh to carry
My New Wine
everlasting marriage
by My Own Blood we're bound
I'll never leave,
to My Word cleave
your heart's now Holy Ground'
This last Christmas, Seth and Karen Barnes, our squads' parents, gave each racer a unique pendant. They gave me a silver wine challis. Accompanied by the poem above...
Covenant. A mysterious word that sat heavy on my spirit. There was power in the word that I didn't understand. What does this word mean? What does it mean for the church? What does it mean for you and for me?
I began searching and the Lord responded by calling me into a new season. I could sense the Lord's hunger to cement our relationship. Let's rewind for a second. Long story short, when I left home last July, the Lord was leading me into an intense season of obedience and servant-hood. One of the marks of this season was fasting from all alcohol for the year while I was on the world race. Then, month 8 of the race, as I mentioned above, I felt the Lord leading me into a season of intense intimacy with Him. A season of abundance and blessing. A season where I would begin to discover the depth of the COVENANT relationship that my Savior so longed for.
When God solidified His covenant with His Creation, He sent Jesus, His son, to die on the cross. By My own blood we're bound.Do this in remembrance of Me. A wine challis and wine.
As this new wine represents an unbroken relationship with Our Maker, the wine challis represents a new wine skin.
As the Lord was calling me into this new season, I felt like He was introducing wine back into my life as a symbol of what he was calling me into. But, I didn't want this to be my flesh talking. So, that night, I asked the Lord a question, "If you truly are wanting to introduce wine back into my life, tomorrow bring up the word covenant in a conversation...then I will know that this is a blessing from you." (Side note, this was during the week that I had a vacation with my sister in South Africa, so I was not around other racers. I thought to myself, ‘Who in the real world uses the world covenant? If I hear this word it will be of God's doings!)
So, the next day it's 6pm and I had not yet heard the word "covenant". My sister and I go to a movie, and, by default, choose the new Jim Carrey movie Yes Man. (Tiff, don't laugh.) It wasn't twenty minutes into the movie and Jim Carrey starts yelling "Covenant, Covenant, Covenant....", so on and so forth at least 20 times. I burst out laughing...
I know that God has a sense of humor, but using Jim Carrey as one bridge in guiding me closer to understanding covenant tops the cake in my books. I know that this is a very random side story, but I believe it is just one demonstration of the unbroken relationship that God so desires for each one of us. God hears us when we talk to Him. And this marked the beginning of the new season: the wine challis season.
"Taste and See that I AM God. The First, the Last and the Same...
Drink and Eat. I'll complete the work for which I came..."
As we near the end of the race, I find myself peering over my shoulder as I walk ahead. I can't help it. I am in awe of my Creator. In spite of me, my life is a living testimony of God's goodness; His strength; His power; His provision; His patience; His passion; His love and His mandate. While my faith lies in His character; I cannot help but hit rewind on this last 10 months and re-watch him display WHO HE IS.
I stand in front of the mirror. Three symbols have found their home as a permanent adornment around my neck: a wine challis, a butterfly and a silver key. All have been accumulated since I left home last June. I look at myself in the mirror and smile. My life reflects back at me. God's truth stares back at me.
Symbolism outlines the projected truths of a painting. It can bring a fuzzy picture into focus. But the color is all yours. The true emotion and beauty of a painting lies in capturing the color and light. That color and light is a clear projection of your life-experiences, what you see as truth and how you view the world around you. Depending on what color you choose to use for your painting, a symbol may cast a rainbow of interpretations.
For me, my life is a wine challis, a butterfly and a silver key. Now, "paint the world with God colors" as Matthew says in the gospels. For some, I am speaking your language; others may be thinking that I am a nut-case about now. I love it. I know that some of you who are reading this love the Lord, some of you love a lord and others confess no lord. Thus, these three symbols could potentially hold very different meanings for each one of you. And that's OK...
Can I invite you into my life for a minute or two? I would love to give you a glimpse into the secret place where I meet with my Lord; to share a whisper, a vision, a thought, a touch, a smile, a tear. The Lord of my life loves me and it is beautiful. As the created, I am loved...and I cannot help but love Him back.
It's not about ministry. It's not about the World Race. It's not about being squad leader.
It's about Him and me. And Paintingthe world with God Colors.
It's about a wine challis, a butterfly and a silver key.
Covenant. Transformation. Kingdom.
More to come.
(The pictures are all from Romania, where I am working in a small gypsy village.)
While in Slobozia, 5 of us girls had the privilege of
staying with an amazing family of 5 boys and 1 girl. A hard working family who feeds hearty stomachs
from their vegetable garden and fruit trees, drinks their own milk and makes
their own perogies (European ravioli with potatoes and brinza). Think 1800's and picture me as a
pioneer. I loved it
You'll just have to watch the video below the understand the line "Brinza in the Soup". Brinza is the traditional Moldovan cheese that we put on/in EVERYTHING we ate: soup, maccaroni, rice, bread, salad, cookies...
I am so proud of each one of you: not for what you have
done, but for WHO YOU ARE. And if you
only remember one thing, let it be this – "You are still the same person right
now (in America), that you were in Nicaragua or Cambodia or Mozambique or
Romania. God did not transform you throughout the past 11 months for you to
just forget WHO HE IS or WHO HE HAS CREATED YOU TO BE. You are a Hebrew's 11 saint. Read it...everyday if you need to. Your faith in God's character changed the
lives of prostitutes in Pattaya and Hi Chi Minh City. Your faith in God's name
restored the lives of once hopeless and voiceless women in Swaziland. Your faith in the truth that God is the one
and only God challenged the belief system of Muslims in London and Malawi. Your faith in the idea that God is the Father
to the fatherless comforted orphans in Mozambique and youth in Moldova. Your faith in the notion that God can do what
He says He can do raised people from the dead and brought them into the Kingdom
in 26 countries across the world!"
When I was around ten years old, I dressed up as a gypsy for Halloween – complete with my long colorful skirt, bandana and large hoop earrings. A gypsy was always a mystical character that lived in my head alone. Little did I know, that over the past few years, the free spirit that appears to govern the path of some gypsy families has also had a hand in navigating my nomadic lifestyle. (Over the past 5 years, I have lived in St. Paul for 1 year, my hometown for 1 year off and on, around 16 different countries for a month each and all 48 of the continental United States for a week each.) Just like the gypsies, "home" is a bit of a foreign concept – it's where I brush my teeth at the end of the day.
Gypsies living in Romania are often not viewed as citizens of Romania. Moldovan gypsies are not from Moldova. My gypsy clans even have their own language, customs, songs, food and flag. Their identity is found in their gypsy heritage, independent upon where they live. 
Gypsies remind me of the Karen that live in Myanmar and Thailand: both are outcasts, forgotten and are not considered citizens of the earthly countries in which they reside. The silver key I wear around my neck represents Kingdom: "And I will give you the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven..." (Matt. 16:19a). I found it 5 months ago on a street on the Thai/Myanmar border while walking with some of my Karen friends. As I have mentioned before, I have a very special place in my heart for the Karen people. 
Here in Romania, most churches operate off the Orthodox calendar, thus Easter is actually celebrated this Sunday – a week after it is celebrated in America. All week long people in the village prepare for this special holiday by baking bread and cookies, cooking special foods, cleaning there homes, dying Easter eggs. Hospitality and family are focal points in the gypsy culture. Thus, upon entering homes of local believers, I would estimate that I have eaten over 10 green and red hard boiled eggs, 6 pieces of cake, 11 cookies, a loaf of home-made bread, a pot of potatoes, way too many grilled sausages (and a few sticks of butter for flavor!); upon leaving a home, I have received over 100 kisses on both cheeks accompanied by hearty hugs. I guess that's how Jesus feeds you when you enter a home in fellowship. 
"We are confident of all this because of our great trust in God through Christ. It is not that we think we can do anything of lasting value by ourselves. Our only power and success come from God. He is the one who has enabled us to represent his new covenant. This is a covenant, not of written laws, but of the Spirit. The old way ends in death; in the new way, the Holy Spirit gives life." 2 Cor. 3: 4-6
When God solidified His covenant with His Creation, He sent Jesus, His son, to die on the cross. By My own blood we're bound. Do this in remembrance of Me. A wine challis and wine. 
I stand in front of the mirror. Three symbols have found their home as a permanent adornment around my neck: a wine challis, a butterfly and a silver key. All have been accumulated since I left home last June. I look at myself in the mirror and smile. My life reflects back at me. God's truth stares back at me. 
