From Musical Chairs in the snow Friday...
...to the beautiful drive to Balan on Sunday...
...to the windowless tenements without electricity or plumbing that house the families we will be visiting...
...to the food packages waiting for distribution today... Welcome to Balan!
Location: Guest house in Balan, Romania, about 9pm on Sunday, the 20th of December.
I promised to edit my last post, filling in the gaps. Unfortunately, I was also promised internet access here, and so far it is not working. So since I cannot edit what I wrote, I will rewrite it and post it, doing my best to remember what I wanted to tell you. I also just organized oodles of photos, so I'll try to post them online at the same time as this post. (Ok, just got internet connection--I have time to post this because I wrote it last night, but photos on Picasa will have to come later, don't miss the photos and highlights from the previous post if you have not already looked... )
Balan is an old mining town that used to be booming; after the mine closed, the story changed. You will see the communist block-tenement buildings in my pictures, some without windows and electricity, yet inhabited by those who have nowhere else to live. We will be distributing food here during the next few days, and in a neighboring town. It is bitter cold here--how I pray for the warmth of Christ to saturate this place, tucked away in the beautiful, snow-covered and fir-populated mountains and valleys. We drove several hours through this beautiful landscape today, and for me it was a restful afternoon after a joyful celebration at church this morning, the kids using their energy to remind us to settle for nothing less than TRUE life! I even got a nap after we arrived, and this evening has been full of a quiet reflection.
My reflection is nestled in the memory of the past few days. As planned, my college-friend, K., arrived on Thursday with her friend, T. I had not seen K. in a long time, and her semester in Lithuania provided a closer departure point for a visit, so when T. joined her for some backpacking, a visit to Romania took place, too. I am glad it did!
Unexpectedly, I was able to pick them up at the airport in Targu Mures, and only a slight misunderstand with a cab driver hinted to them the adventure that could have been in store for them had they tried to find their way to Sighisoara on their own. But I made sure they were not wanting for adventure; within a couple of hours of their arrival in Sighisoara, they joined our team singing in a Christmas concert in the Orthodox Church! How is that for "orientation"? After orientation, we put them to work, and we measured socks till midnight, chatting and laughing and catching up. We then decided sleep would help prepare them for the next day's "field training."
Friday morning was our staff meeting, and afterward we finished up the socks. Then the girls joined me in the neighborhood, inviting kids to that afternoon's program in town. We were interrupted by a summons back to the base, for a load of firewood had arrived. So we made a line and put those tough American girls to work unloading wood and stacking for the cold days to come. That did not really leave us any time for lunch, so we grabbed a sandwich and hurried into town. We had to try to prepare a vacant lot for the program, but our two snow-shovels were no match for a field of snow, even in the hands of a determined K. So instead, we played musical chairs! We laughed, giggled, guffawed, chortled, chuckled, and cackled as pedestrians walked by, disturbed by delight. I was the live radio, and my voice echoed off the buildings until it would be interrupted by an explosion of hilarity when someone failed to find a seat and landed in the snow! Meanwhile, we were waiting for the plow that I thought I had arranged, only to discover that my Romanian skills had not been up to the challenge and no plow would come.
So we began the program, in conjunction with several churches and organizations, and it was like a movie. Large snow flakes drizzled down as we congregated at the foot of the citadel, the historic and more modern buildings a backdrop for our brisk Christmas pageant. (Check out T.'s great photos!) The program went fairly well, but K.'s toes froze, so we hurried back to the base. We three Americans did not mount camels and follow a star that night, but instead we were drafted to make dinner. It became quite the laugh-capade as we attempted to make breakfast-for-supper, discovering along the way that we were missing some of the key ingredients. But no one starved, so we chalked it up as a success and washed the dishes.
Wanna know what we did that evening? Good, I'll tell you...in a few moments!
The next morning, we once more drank in the beauty of the snow-frosted town, then we walked to the citadel for a quick tour before catching a maxi-taxi (minibus) to Targu Mures. An hour later, we stepped into downtown Targu Mures and began a photo rampage, posing with the snowmen and moose on skis that decorated the city centre. I am afraid we are guilty of making more innocent Romanians smile as our antics caught them off-guard. Certainly we were grinning, and perhaps we were contagious with the smile-flu!
Before anyone could accuse us, though, we ducked into a basement restaurant where we shared a couple meals of traditional Romanian food, sampling as many dishes as we could. Too soon I had to put my friends in a taxi and watch them drive off to the airport, thanking the Lord for the gift of their coming.
The gift of coming. That is what we will be celebrating this week, the gift of God: the coming of His Son, Jesus. If Jesus had not come, we would not be able to truly know God. We would not be able to have true joy. We would not have any reason to tear apart a sober society with riots of delight.
Fortunately, we have a reason for joy--joy to the world! After I watched my friends fade into traffic, I attended a children's musical near Targu Mures, written and prepared by some of my friends. The children sang about the gift of Jesus' coming, and I was deeply moved by their joy. I smiled at their simply delight, not only on stage, but just in life. For instance, one of the little girls saw me and grabbed her mom, saying, "Look, Mommie, Zorro!" She remembered a minute-and-a-half lesson three months ago when I had dressed up like Zorro, and she was happy to see me!
The gift of coming.
I know, few of you will read this. It is long, and who cares about the play-by-play of someone else's life? But let me tell you what the girls and I did on Friday night. We talked about Jesus, about what God had done in our lives, about the Church--about living life "on the edge" and staying on the "edge." For an hour or two, well past midnight, we delved deeper. When was the last time you did that? When was the last time you did not try to fill a silent or boring moment with a game or television or a text message or useless chatter, but instead talked about Jesus?
My favorite thing is not a thing at all; it is a person--Jesus! There is nothing else I would rather discuss. I love being sharpened and encouraged by other Christians! What a pleasure it is to recall God's goodness, His blessings in our lives! How wonderful to recall the lessons we have learned, and the beauty we have seen!
My friends were enraptured by the beauty of Romania, as am I. Yet we are even more awed by the beauty of the greatest story every told, of which the Christmas Story is an integral part.
The gift of coming:
Today I came to Balan, and I know that among the hours of hard work here this week, God's gifts will touch many hearts.
My friends came last week, just when I needed a breath of fresh air and a blast of laughter-recharge to a trampled soul. I think they are the first people to come to Sighisoara expressly to visit me (not passing through on their way elsewhere)--what a blessing to have friends like that!
Christmas is coming, because Jesus came. And don't forget: Jesus is coming! May you, too, join us in celebrating the gift of coming! Merry Christmas!
I promised to edit my last post, filling in the gaps. Unfortunately, I was also promised internet access here, and so far it is not working. So since I cannot edit what I wrote, I will rewrite it and post it, doing my best to remember what I wanted to tell you. I also just organized oodles of photos, so I'll try to post them online at the same time as this post. (Ok, just got internet connection--I have time to post this because I wrote it last night, but photos on Picasa will have to come later, don't miss the photos and highlights from the previous post if you have not already looked... )
Balan is an old mining town that used to be booming; after the mine closed, the story changed. You will see the communist block-tenement buildings in my pictures, some without windows and electricity, yet inhabited by those who have nowhere else to live. We will be distributing food here during the next few days, and in a neighboring town. It is bitter cold here--how I pray for the warmth of Christ to saturate this place, tucked away in the beautiful, snow-covered and fir-populated mountains and valleys. We drove several hours through this beautiful landscape today, and for me it was a restful afternoon after a joyful celebration at church this morning, the kids using their energy to remind us to settle for nothing less than TRUE life! I even got a nap after we arrived, and this evening has been full of a quiet reflection.
My reflection is nestled in the memory of the past few days. As planned, my college-friend, K., arrived on Thursday with her friend, T. I had not seen K. in a long time, and her semester in Lithuania provided a closer departure point for a visit, so when T. joined her for some backpacking, a visit to Romania took place, too. I am glad it did!
Unexpectedly, I was able to pick them up at the airport in Targu Mures, and only a slight misunderstand with a cab driver hinted to them the adventure that could have been in store for them had they tried to find their way to Sighisoara on their own. But I made sure they were not wanting for adventure; within a couple of hours of their arrival in Sighisoara, they joined our team singing in a Christmas concert in the Orthodox Church! How is that for "orientation"? After orientation, we put them to work, and we measured socks till midnight, chatting and laughing and catching up. We then decided sleep would help prepare them for the next day's "field training."
Friday morning was our staff meeting, and afterward we finished up the socks. Then the girls joined me in the neighborhood, inviting kids to that afternoon's program in town. We were interrupted by a summons back to the base, for a load of firewood had arrived. So we made a line and put those tough American girls to work unloading wood and stacking for the cold days to come. That did not really leave us any time for lunch, so we grabbed a sandwich and hurried into town. We had to try to prepare a vacant lot for the program, but our two snow-shovels were no match for a field of snow, even in the hands of a determined K. So instead, we played musical chairs! We laughed, giggled, guffawed, chortled, chuckled, and cackled as pedestrians walked by, disturbed by delight. I was the live radio, and my voice echoed off the buildings until it would be interrupted by an explosion of hilarity when someone failed to find a seat and landed in the snow! Meanwhile, we were waiting for the plow that I thought I had arranged, only to discover that my Romanian skills had not been up to the challenge and no plow would come.
So we began the program, in conjunction with several churches and organizations, and it was like a movie. Large snow flakes drizzled down as we congregated at the foot of the citadel, the historic and more modern buildings a backdrop for our brisk Christmas pageant. (Check out T.'s great photos!) The program went fairly well, but K.'s toes froze, so we hurried back to the base. We three Americans did not mount camels and follow a star that night, but instead we were drafted to make dinner. It became quite the laugh-capade as we attempted to make breakfast-for-supper, discovering along the way that we were missing some of the key ingredients. But no one starved, so we chalked it up as a success and washed the dishes.
Wanna know what we did that evening? Good, I'll tell you...in a few moments!
The next morning, we once more drank in the beauty of the snow-frosted town, then we walked to the citadel for a quick tour before catching a maxi-taxi (minibus) to Targu Mures. An hour later, we stepped into downtown Targu Mures and began a photo rampage, posing with the snowmen and moose on skis that decorated the city centre. I am afraid we are guilty of making more innocent Romanians smile as our antics caught them off-guard. Certainly we were grinning, and perhaps we were contagious with the smile-flu!
Before anyone could accuse us, though, we ducked into a basement restaurant where we shared a couple meals of traditional Romanian food, sampling as many dishes as we could. Too soon I had to put my friends in a taxi and watch them drive off to the airport, thanking the Lord for the gift of their coming.
The gift of coming. That is what we will be celebrating this week, the gift of God: the coming of His Son, Jesus. If Jesus had not come, we would not be able to truly know God. We would not be able to have true joy. We would not have any reason to tear apart a sober society with riots of delight.
Fortunately, we have a reason for joy--joy to the world! After I watched my friends fade into traffic, I attended a children's musical near Targu Mures, written and prepared by some of my friends. The children sang about the gift of Jesus' coming, and I was deeply moved by their joy. I smiled at their simply delight, not only on stage, but just in life. For instance, one of the little girls saw me and grabbed her mom, saying, "Look, Mommie, Zorro!" She remembered a minute-and-a-half lesson three months ago when I had dressed up like Zorro, and she was happy to see me!
The gift of coming.
I know, few of you will read this. It is long, and who cares about the play-by-play of someone else's life? But let me tell you what the girls and I did on Friday night. We talked about Jesus, about what God had done in our lives, about the Church--about living life "on the edge" and staying on the "edge." For an hour or two, well past midnight, we delved deeper. When was the last time you did that? When was the last time you did not try to fill a silent or boring moment with a game or television or a text message or useless chatter, but instead talked about Jesus?
My favorite thing is not a thing at all; it is a person--Jesus! There is nothing else I would rather discuss. I love being sharpened and encouraged by other Christians! What a pleasure it is to recall God's goodness, His blessings in our lives! How wonderful to recall the lessons we have learned, and the beauty we have seen!
My friends were enraptured by the beauty of Romania, as am I. Yet we are even more awed by the beauty of the greatest story every told, of which the Christmas Story is an integral part.
The gift of coming:
Today I came to Balan, and I know that among the hours of hard work here this week, God's gifts will touch many hearts.
My friends came last week, just when I needed a breath of fresh air and a blast of laughter-recharge to a trampled soul. I think they are the first people to come to Sighisoara expressly to visit me (not passing through on their way elsewhere)--what a blessing to have friends like that!
Christmas is coming, because Jesus came. And don't forget: Jesus is coming! May you, too, join us in celebrating the gift of coming! Merry Christmas!
