Location: Attic bedroom in hosts' house, Oradea, Romania (about 6:15pm on the 24th of May)
(I have been having trouble getting internet access, so please be patient as you wait for email replies and blog posts. Tomorrow I am off toward Sighisoara, so hopefully from there I can post this one!)
Today is Monday, and in Romania, it is a holiday due to yesterday being Pentecost. The holiday was nice for me, because I am tired after a long weekend. Let me tell you a little bit about it.
Some of you know my friend M., from Hunedoara. She was truly a Godsend this weekend. She traveled nearly five hours by bus to Oradea Saturday after teaching public school all week and while nursing a rotten cold. She skipped her weekend continuing education classes to do so. Then she learned that the buses would not run on Sunday because of the holiday, thwarting her return plans.
Good-naturedly, she dove right in, doing all she could to absorb everything I told her in preparation for the family workshop we would be leading in about two hours. She had come to translate, but her expertise and
experience working with persons with disabilities made her extremely valuable in helping to 
transport my host on his first outing with his broken leg. (Hopefully I can post a few pictures with this of how we transported S. in the back of a car and helped him and his wheelchair up and down a narrow staircase at home and a shoddy gangplank at a construction site!) At the last minute, because the weather turned out to be beautiful, we had the meeting outside of town next to a lake, 17 kilometers from Oradea.
I am so thankful M. was there to help me put things in perspective. Compared to my plans, most of the evening would have to be considered a complete failure! My weeks of preparation and communication seemed in vain as several things beyond our control mixed with cultural differences and human nature to challenge us at every turn. I went for a walk with Jesus away from the thirty people or so who were enjoying the lakeside grill-out after my house of cards had fallen flat. As I stood by the lake praying and thinking about the evening that was not yet over, I was awestruck. A storm was brewing in the sunset, churning clouds into gorgeous towers of shadows and power. A deer streaked across the meadow, perhaps startled by the shepherd's
dogs barking amid the bleating sheep I could not see. Those noises were joined by the call of a cuckoo and other birds, to a back drop of cricket- or 
grasshopper-song. The breeze pushed at me affectionately, knocking off the disappointment that threatened me, and I watched birds dip and dive in the lingering light. The sun was majestic, unmoved by the rain I could see falling on the horizon. The tall grass and reeds kept me company, as if listening with me to the wisdom of my God.
As always, I had given the evening completely to the Lord; M. and I had prayed together again before we started, recommitting it to His glory yet again. During our time by the lake, He reminded me that He does not make mistakes, and that He chose me and M. specifically as His vessels for that evening's work, even knowing ahead of time what would result and the difficulty we would have. In fact, the evening was not a failure; it was a glorious victory for the Lord! Even before we failed, He had planned to use it for His glory, and He did. I saw fathers taking their children around the lake in the rowboat. Another dad reminded his toddler of creation songs as they strolled through the tall grass. Families were fellowshipping together and sharing a feast (what were other families doing on a Saturday night?)! A young man was playing the guitar, other folks were conversing. A soccer ball was kicked around and I saw some of the young girls frolicking around in whatever game they had invented.
And how much more was God doing behind the scenes! What did He do that night for His glory that I will never know about?
In fact, I enjoyed myself that evening. I always enjoy a good challenge, and even the vehicles getting stuck in the mud just added to the adventure. Besides, as I stood and looked around at the land to which the Lord has brought me, I could not help but be grateful. Stunned by the beauty of the hills and trees and meadows and skies and wildlife, I just wanted to drink it in! Rather than a possible "failure" discouraging me from the hard months ahead of me in a foreign place, the Lord's majesty encouraged me and whet my appetite for more of His life in this land! Many of you were praying for us; thank you!!!
Perhaps you do not have time to read more right now, but would you believe that the above is just the beginning of the story of our weekend adventures?
By Sunday morning, we were all moving a little lethargically after our evening together the night before. Finally, M. and I sat down to breakfast together in the house of our hosts, and just as I poured milk on my cereal, looking forward to catching up with my friend now that we had a moment for conversation, my name was called from upstairs. I left my muesli soaking and skipped upstairs, to hear, "J., you are the only one who can help me." That was at 9:35am.
Soon I was on my way to the house of a man I had never met (I had met his wife and a few of their children the previous Sunday; they are missionaries from South Africa) with a bathroom scale. My instructions were to help them weight their baggage, take it and one of their children to the trainstation before their 10:00am train departed, and to bring their rabbit back to the house. Yes, their rabbit. Would you expect anything less in one of my weekend adventures? Just wait, it gets better.
I found the house and its seven-person family and set to work, quickly realizing they would never make it by 10:00, especially since virtually every one of their suitcases was too heavy for the plane they would later catch. It turned out that their train was at 11:00; in fact, the same train M. was supposed to catch. So I called her and apologized that I would be unable to go with her to the train station; instead, could she meet me there?
Eventually I found myself and some of the men in the family (and a neat friend from Pakistan) climbing over industrial piping and about six sets of train rails to get eight or nine suitcases to the train platform from the backside of the station. Then I momentarily left them to meet up with M., who ended up learning that the next train (an hour later) would be a better option for her. After we saw the family and their luggage installed on the train, I (and S., my new Pakistani friend) took Maria to the car to introduce her to the rabbit, which I had locked in the car loose with breakfast still in a skillet, a turtle, and some sort of mouse or gerbil, all which had been left by the missionary family. I know it will not surprise you that not long after M. and I returned with this zoo to the house, she and I and one of the daughters in the household found ourselves running through the neighborhood streets chasing a large while rabbit!
By then, I decided to try to eat my breakfast before M. had to go to the train station. As I scarfed my muesli, I again heard my name called from upstairs! This time I took my cereal with me! Now a new plan unfolded. Why not take M. home by car?
Yes, this weekend, I ended up driving more than all other times I have lived abroad, combined. With S.'s broken leg, I was the only one in the family with a driver's license. The car belonged to a friend, but we had permission to use it, and all Romanian cars have to have liability insurance on them. So this once-nice Volkswagon became my fearless steed for the weekend. The sunroof mostly closed, and all the doors eventually opened, but you never knew if you had to open them from inside or outside. The car alarm went off unexpectedly while the car was parked, playing games with the emergancy flashers that would signal several times without warning as I drove, over and over again in intervals. The drivers' window would not open, but the rest did; the back hatch would hardly close. The air-conditioning no longer worked, but the heat would not stop. I think it still had three hubcaps. It was a good car! And to make it even cooler, I decided to spray mud up both sides of the front on Saturday night, to give it an off-roading look.
Seriously, I was grateful for the car, for it served us well. It took S. and his broken leg (and all our gear piled on top of him) to the family picnic and back. Then it took me and M. from Oradea to Hunedoara via Deva, and then back up toward Cluj-Napoca through Alba Iulia and back to Oradea, in about 9 hours of driving on one tank of gas. The drive wove through breath-taking landscapes as I dodged car-eating potholes, over mountains and chasing the rain that we never caught. Neither did I hit the flock of sheep in the road, nor the enormous cows crossing the street in front of me. Even the hare that shot across my lane while I was streaking down the new interstate-highway outside of Cluj was spared. I outran the tour bus that chased me down switchback curves, and I navigated road-construction areas as I learned the signs. I parked at home early this morning and hit the sack, sleeping in a little before two of the teenagers in the house and I washed the car. I wish I had pictures--we had fun!
Anyway, it was a great adventure because God blessed me with more and more of His beautiful Romanian landscapes (including snow-dazzled mountains outside Hunedoara), as well as with an opportunity to discuss with M. our Spirit-led lives as Christians and to sharpen one another. We also laughed and laughed and laughed! An added blessing was getting to surprise another friend of ours in Hunedoara with a brief visit, and taking a rest-stop to eat a meal prepared by M.'s mom.
If you are still reading, you know by now the moral of the story. This weekend, which should have been a disappointment and failure in so many respects, was instead a time filled with blessings and beauty, with laughter and encouragement, with friends and families, with surprises and lessons, and grace and glory. You see, God's glory does not depend on my success. His work does not depend upon my work. Yet He chooses to use me and even my failures to accomplish His magnificent plans. This weekend, He also chose M., and though our obedience led us through tensions and obstacles and uncertainty and maybe even humiliation, I would do it all again!
How about you? Did He choose to work through you this weekend?
Did you let Him?
You still can!
(I have been having trouble getting internet access, so please be patient as you wait for email replies and blog posts. Tomorrow I am off toward Sighisoara, so hopefully from there I can post this one!)
Today is Monday, and in Romania, it is a holiday due to yesterday being Pentecost. The holiday was nice for me, because I am tired after a long weekend. Let me tell you a little bit about it.
Some of you know my friend M., from Hunedoara. She was truly a Godsend this weekend. She traveled nearly five hours by bus to Oradea Saturday after teaching public school all week and while nursing a rotten cold. She skipped her weekend continuing education classes to do so. Then she learned that the buses would not run on Sunday because of the holiday, thwarting her return plans.
Good-naturedly, she dove right in, doing all she could to absorb everything I told her in preparation for the family workshop we would be leading in about two hours. She had come to translate, but her expertise and
experience working with persons with disabilities made her extremely valuable in helping to 
transport my host on his first outing with his broken leg. (Hopefully I can post a few pictures with this of how we transported S. in the back of a car and helped him and his wheelchair up and down a narrow staircase at home and a shoddy gangplank at a construction site!) At the last minute, because the weather turned out to be beautiful, we had the meeting outside of town next to a lake, 17 kilometers from Oradea.I am so thankful M. was there to help me put things in perspective. Compared to my plans, most of the evening would have to be considered a complete failure! My weeks of preparation and communication seemed in vain as several things beyond our control mixed with cultural differences and human nature to challenge us at every turn. I went for a walk with Jesus away from the thirty people or so who were enjoying the lakeside grill-out after my house of cards had fallen flat. As I stood by the lake praying and thinking about the evening that was not yet over, I was awestruck. A storm was brewing in the sunset, churning clouds into gorgeous towers of shadows and power. A deer streaked across the meadow, perhaps startled by the shepherd's
dogs barking amid the bleating sheep I could not see. Those noises were joined by the call of a cuckoo and other birds, to a back drop of cricket- or 
grasshopper-song. The breeze pushed at me affectionately, knocking off the disappointment that threatened me, and I watched birds dip and dive in the lingering light. The sun was majestic, unmoved by the rain I could see falling on the horizon. The tall grass and reeds kept me company, as if listening with me to the wisdom of my God.As always, I had given the evening completely to the Lord; M. and I had prayed together again before we started, recommitting it to His glory yet again. During our time by the lake, He reminded me that He does not make mistakes, and that He chose me and M. specifically as His vessels for that evening's work, even knowing ahead of time what would result and the difficulty we would have. In fact, the evening was not a failure; it was a glorious victory for the Lord! Even before we failed, He had planned to use it for His glory, and He did. I saw fathers taking their children around the lake in the rowboat. Another dad reminded his toddler of creation songs as they strolled through the tall grass. Families were fellowshipping together and sharing a feast (what were other families doing on a Saturday night?)! A young man was playing the guitar, other folks were conversing. A soccer ball was kicked around and I saw some of the young girls frolicking around in whatever game they had invented.
And how much more was God doing behind the scenes! What did He do that night for His glory that I will never know about?
In fact, I enjoyed myself that evening. I always enjoy a good challenge, and even the vehicles getting stuck in the mud just added to the adventure. Besides, as I stood and looked around at the land to which the Lord has brought me, I could not help but be grateful. Stunned by the beauty of the hills and trees and meadows and skies and wildlife, I just wanted to drink it in! Rather than a possible "failure" discouraging me from the hard months ahead of me in a foreign place, the Lord's majesty encouraged me and whet my appetite for more of His life in this land! Many of you were praying for us; thank you!!!
Perhaps you do not have time to read more right now, but would you believe that the above is just the beginning of the story of our weekend adventures?
By Sunday morning, we were all moving a little lethargically after our evening together the night before. Finally, M. and I sat down to breakfast together in the house of our hosts, and just as I poured milk on my cereal, looking forward to catching up with my friend now that we had a moment for conversation, my name was called from upstairs. I left my muesli soaking and skipped upstairs, to hear, "J., you are the only one who can help me." That was at 9:35am.
Soon I was on my way to the house of a man I had never met (I had met his wife and a few of their children the previous Sunday; they are missionaries from South Africa) with a bathroom scale. My instructions were to help them weight their baggage, take it and one of their children to the trainstation before their 10:00am train departed, and to bring their rabbit back to the house. Yes, their rabbit. Would you expect anything less in one of my weekend adventures? Just wait, it gets better.
I found the house and its seven-person family and set to work, quickly realizing they would never make it by 10:00, especially since virtually every one of their suitcases was too heavy for the plane they would later catch. It turned out that their train was at 11:00; in fact, the same train M. was supposed to catch. So I called her and apologized that I would be unable to go with her to the train station; instead, could she meet me there?
Eventually I found myself and some of the men in the family (and a neat friend from Pakistan) climbing over industrial piping and about six sets of train rails to get eight or nine suitcases to the train platform from the backside of the station. Then I momentarily left them to meet up with M., who ended up learning that the next train (an hour later) would be a better option for her. After we saw the family and their luggage installed on the train, I (and S., my new Pakistani friend) took Maria to the car to introduce her to the rabbit, which I had locked in the car loose with breakfast still in a skillet, a turtle, and some sort of mouse or gerbil, all which had been left by the missionary family. I know it will not surprise you that not long after M. and I returned with this zoo to the house, she and I and one of the daughters in the household found ourselves running through the neighborhood streets chasing a large while rabbit!
By then, I decided to try to eat my breakfast before M. had to go to the train station. As I scarfed my muesli, I again heard my name called from upstairs! This time I took my cereal with me! Now a new plan unfolded. Why not take M. home by car?
Yes, this weekend, I ended up driving more than all other times I have lived abroad, combined. With S.'s broken leg, I was the only one in the family with a driver's license. The car belonged to a friend, but we had permission to use it, and all Romanian cars have to have liability insurance on them. So this once-nice Volkswagon became my fearless steed for the weekend. The sunroof mostly closed, and all the doors eventually opened, but you never knew if you had to open them from inside or outside. The car alarm went off unexpectedly while the car was parked, playing games with the emergancy flashers that would signal several times without warning as I drove, over and over again in intervals. The drivers' window would not open, but the rest did; the back hatch would hardly close. The air-conditioning no longer worked, but the heat would not stop. I think it still had three hubcaps. It was a good car! And to make it even cooler, I decided to spray mud up both sides of the front on Saturday night, to give it an off-roading look.
Seriously, I was grateful for the car, for it served us well. It took S. and his broken leg (and all our gear piled on top of him) to the family picnic and back. Then it took me and M. from Oradea to Hunedoara via Deva, and then back up toward Cluj-Napoca through Alba Iulia and back to Oradea, in about 9 hours of driving on one tank of gas. The drive wove through breath-taking landscapes as I dodged car-eating potholes, over mountains and chasing the rain that we never caught. Neither did I hit the flock of sheep in the road, nor the enormous cows crossing the street in front of me. Even the hare that shot across my lane while I was streaking down the new interstate-highway outside of Cluj was spared. I outran the tour bus that chased me down switchback curves, and I navigated road-construction areas as I learned the signs. I parked at home early this morning and hit the sack, sleeping in a little before two of the teenagers in the house and I washed the car. I wish I had pictures--we had fun!
Anyway, it was a great adventure because God blessed me with more and more of His beautiful Romanian landscapes (including snow-dazzled mountains outside Hunedoara), as well as with an opportunity to discuss with M. our Spirit-led lives as Christians and to sharpen one another. We also laughed and laughed and laughed! An added blessing was getting to surprise another friend of ours in Hunedoara with a brief visit, and taking a rest-stop to eat a meal prepared by M.'s mom.
If you are still reading, you know by now the moral of the story. This weekend, which should have been a disappointment and failure in so many respects, was instead a time filled with blessings and beauty, with laughter and encouragement, with friends and families, with surprises and lessons, and grace and glory. You see, God's glory does not depend on my success. His work does not depend upon my work. Yet He chooses to use me and even my failures to accomplish His magnificent plans. This weekend, He also chose M., and though our obedience led us through tensions and obstacles and uncertainty and maybe even humiliation, I would do it all again!
How about you? Did He choose to work through you this weekend?
Did you let Him?
You still can!
