A New Beginning and Goodbye to Sarajevo

Tara Canyon, Bosnia-Herzegovina

This trip with Operation Capitals of Europe (OCE) to Podgorica and Sarajevo has been an extraordinary one.  Like I said in yesterday’s post, Sarajevo is the halfway point—25^th of approximately 50 European capitals.  And Sarajevo calls itself The Heart of Europe.  It’s also the place where East and West meet in Europe.

Plus there has been a heavenly shift on this trip.  Prayer has gotten easier, the burdens lighter, and the work more fun.  We functioned more effectively as a team, despite past glitches with the issue of unity.  Our love and respect for one another has grown as we’ve come to recognize each other’s giftings—which brings us back to teamwork.  We’ve learned how to rely on each other’s strengths.  In Podgorica we were seven—four OCE regulars and three who joined us.  Here in Sarajevo we were 25 – 40, some only attended the meetings in the church, but several also came along to prayer walk with us.

Even with new people (and the locals, who are always new), this time we worked so well as a team.  Frankly, it’s a relief to know that I don’t have to carry the full burden of this ministry myself.  I know that I couldn’t do it alone.  So I work in my gifts and let the others work in theirs, and that way the burden is light for each of us.  But this is a remarkable group of people who don’t try either to self-promote or leave the whole burden on others.  Over the years and several trips together, we’ve learned when to come forward and when to step back and let another teammate do the work, and usually the locals blend in nicely, adding their prayers and prophecies in their own language.

So today was the 100^th anniversary of the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand and his wife, Sophie, here in Sarajevo.  We went down to the bridge where the shots were fired, arriving at 10:00.  There was a place in the street that was open for the team to enter, and once in, the crowd closed around us and many people walked through little gaps in our group of about 25.  One woman had made a flag of a lion roaring, and shared a vision of a roaring lion.  I had a vision of a lion stepping on the head of a dragon.  Different people took turns holding the flag, and almost as soon as we were in place, people started asking about the flag, and it became a wonderful opportunity to share the love of Jesus.  Even news reporters from different countries came up to us, asking about the flag.  I spoke with a reporter from Italy and another from Hungary.  A couple of reporters recorded us singing and dancing.  For the first time, I was completely uninhibited in public worship.  It was wonderful.  Then someone from the City of Sarajevo Museum drove up with the Archduke’s car, parked it in the middle of the crowd, and cordoned it off.

Then we walked to the fountain in the middle of the Old Town Square, prayed some more, and walked to the East-West divider, and prayed some more.  From there we walked, worshiping all along the way, to Parliament Square.  We said some final prayers there, and then said goodbye because almost everyone was leaving town immediately afterwards.  Many people from previous trips to the Balkans had joined us here, so it had been wonderful to see them, but sad to make our goodbyes.

Two of my OCE teammates and I remain in town for another day, so we went to lunch together.  Tomorrow I will take an early bus to Belgrade and fly back to Milan from there.  It will be a long day of travel after more than two weeks away from home.  Although I will be glad to get back home, it’s hard to leave my friends—co-workers in God’s Grand Plan to save Europe.  Our next trip will be in September, and the adventure will continue.  God is good!

 

Redeeming Sarajevo’s Bloody Past

The muddy river

So much about Sarajevo has amazed me.  First was Corrie’s personal story of war (The War—History Becomes Real), then we learned some surprising things.

Sarajevo is Operation Capitals of Europe’s 25^th capital out of an estimated 50—this marks the halfway point*.  And the interesting thing about that is that the tide is turning, so prayer has started to become much easier.  Places that you would expect to be hard places to pray (like Bosnia-Herzegovina, which has a Muslim majority) have become easier to pray in.  And sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ has never been easier.  Evangelism is not the focus of OCE, but when an opportunity to share the love of Jesus presents itself, we are faithful to do so.

In fact, we had a surprise this morning when a Muslim man from Bosnia’s most radical sect knocked on the door of the church and asked for someone to tell him about Jesus.  This was during our morning prayer and strategy session before prayer walking in the city.  The pastor of this church had answered the knock, and told the man about Jesus—which he received eagerly.

For me, the Muslim coming to church was a personal confirmation because just this morning, I was, oh well not really praying, but sort of musing in God’s presence about the seriously religious Muslims (which seem to be a minority here).  And God showed me that some of them are sincerely seeking Him—and of course, the Bible says that when we seek God, we will find Him (Jeremiah 29:13).

What we do is prophetic prayer, so it’s often accompanied by prophetic acts.  We pray as the Holy Spirit directs us.  So when we went out to prayer walk in the city, a young couple heard us praying by the river where it flows into the city.  One of our local believers noticed their interest, so he greeted them.  They asked about our prayers, and he explained about praying for the city.  They asked what we had thrown into the river.  And he explained that it was salt to purify the river, and how only the blood of Jesus can purify us and save us from our sin.  They were so happy that they started laughing.  The woman was fanning herself with her hand (Pentecostal-style!) and laughing.  So he made an appointment to see them tomorrow and promised to give them Bibles and a copy of the Jesus film.

In this land where death has reigned for so long, the Author of Life has come to bring life and hope.  Tomorrow is the 100^th anniversary of the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife—which happened here in Sarajevo.  I feel that Sarajevo has passed through a door, and today starts the true history of Sarajevo—a history of life and love and hope in Jesus Christ.  God is good!

* Nobody can say for certain exactly how many countries are in Europe because there are countries that are not universally recognized, like the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (which is recognized only by itself and Turkey), Transnistria (which is recognized only by itself), Kosovo (recognized by all the world except Serbia), Wales, Scotland, and the Channel Islands (which are self-governing regions of the UK), the Faroe Islands (a self-governing region of Denmark), and all the countries that sort of straddle Europe and Asia: Turkey, Russia, and Georgia.

The War—History Becomes Real

Sarajevo War Museum

Greetings from Sarajevo!

Upon our arrival we were met by a missionary couple, Gerald and Corrie.  Gerald is American and Corrie is Dutch, but now an American citizen.  They took us to Old Town Sarajevo for an authentic Bosnian dinner.  After our delicious meal, we went for a Turkish coffee, but found the Turkish coffee shops full of noisy soccer fans because Bosnia was playing in the World Cup.  So we found a regular coffee shop.  Over coffee and dessert, Corrie told me their war story:

We were missionaries here for five years, and I had thought that we would always stay here.  We had three small children, the youngest two had been born here, and I was pregnant with the fourth.  We knew that war was a possibility, but the news media minimized the threat.  And besides that, they had signed the treaty, so we didn’t really think that it would happen.  But regardless, in war or peace, we were determined to stay.  We were young and the call of God for Sarajevo was so strong for both of us that really, we were in denial about the serious possibility of war.

Nevertheless, we needed to go back to the US to raise support and meet with our church, and the best time would be for two months beginning in April, so that we could be back for the summer because summer was an important time in our ministry.

Rachel, an American who had lived in Israel, had just come to help me with the children, and she would stay in the house while we were gone.  We went with two empty suitcases because there were many things that we couldn’t get in Sarajevo, so we intended to buy things to bring back.  We never imagined that we were leaving for good.  So we left and two weeks later, war broke out.

I felt so bad—almost guilty—for having left, though I know now that it was God’s plan to rescue our family.  I was concerned for our friends and neighbors, and of course for Rachel.  Contact was impossible, all communication was cut off.  On TV, we saw the tanks entering town in the very park where our children played.  It was surreal, and I tried to understand what I was seeing.

At this point shouting filled the street—Bosnia had won the soccer match, and the street quickly filled with flag-draped, cheering fans.  Corrie smiled at me, and continued:

Since we couldn’t come back to Sarajevo, we lived for seven years in the Netherlands, before finally moving to the US.  Gerald traveled back once a year, doing what he could here.

We visited Sarajevo after the war, not knowing what we would find.  Rachel, having lived in a war zone, had gotten herself out safely.  But our friends and neighbors?  Information was slow in coming, and in many cases, we never found out at all.  One family from the church had gotten out and moved to Germany, close to the border with the Netherlands, so we were able to visit them while we lived there.  We had heard about another couple from church who moved to the US.  And a friend who was also pregnant had been taken in the night to the hospital, and gave birth there by candlelight.

We found our house with the door and all the windows missing.  All our things had been taken, though we found a hand juicer in a corner, and the familiarity of the object was jarring.  Then I went upstairs and began screaming for Gerald.  All our family pictures were strewn all over the floor, taken out of the albums.  We gathered them like lost treasure.  Those were the only things, besides the washer, that remained—and the washer had been gutted for parts, like an abandoned car.  A few days later, we returned to the house and found that even the empty hull of the washer had been hauled off.

So our children grew up in the States.  Then last year, Gerald told me that he wants to move back to Sarajevo.  I didn’t feel ready to move back, leaving our children there (and a daughter in Holland) but after much prayer, I agreed, and we moved in August.

I was speechless at first.  It was a very sobering thing to arrive in Sarajevo and find that the house across the street from our lodgings with bullet holes all over the façade from when the soldiers with Kalashnikovs had sprayed the area with gunfire—especially knowing how recent that war was.  But it was another thing altogether to hear this personal story of war and God’s miraculous rescue of this family.  Imagine what might have happened if they had stayed.  They might have lost the baby (and mother!) or Gerald might have been killed.

And this morning, Corrie brought a friend to meet me.  She has been friends with Radosta for 26 years.  Radosta recalled with smiles how she had carried their youngest in a baby backpack through town.  Radosta would sing and the baby would lift her hands in praise.  Reuniting with Radosta had been a real joy and a blessing for Corrie.

God calls each of us into divine partnership with Him, and for those who answer His call (unless He has called them for martyrdom), He shields them and their family from harm.  God is good!

This had been the park where Corrie’s children had sledded down the hill.  Now it’s a cemetery for those who died in the war–including their first convert to Christianity.

Worshiping with Laughter in Podgorica

Titograd–AKA Podgorica

Greetings from Podgorica!

This morning, after a strategy meeting for prayer walking in Podgorica (the capital of Montenegro), we met with some missionaries over coffee.  They explained the particular challenges for the church here, which boiled down to suspicion and division.  They couldn’t stay long, so we prayed for them, and blessed them in their ministry here.

Meanwhile a couple of teammates went to talk and pray with a newspaper man (a Christian) who is a former minister in the government, and who likely could have a future role in the government of Montenegro.  The teammates who went to his office were one who has a special calling to pray for government, and the other is a missionary in Albania, and thus, the only teammate based in the Balkans.  By coincidence (or as I’ve recently heard it termed, “God-incidence”), both are Norwegian men.  The rest of the team went prayer walking in the center of the city.

Our walk took us down to the confluence of the small river that runs through the city center and a larger river.  It is a really beautiful spot on waters that are sparkling clear.  We found a small cave into which a small stage has been built.  But it looks as if the site has long been abandoned, and probably used as a teenage hangout for drinking and drug use.  The stage has been torn up and there is broken glass everywhere.  Nevertheless, the natural beauty of this place is undeniable.  We found there a couple of girls who had set up easels and were drawing.  The Holy Spirit spoke to us of this place as being a place of worship and the release of creative gifts.  So we included worship in our prayers there.  It was there that the Holy Spirit revealed hope to me.  I felt such hope for this city and this country.

Then one teammate told us of a statue that spoke to her of the powerful weapon that worship is against the enemy.  It is a statue of a man holding a guitar in one hand, with his other hand raised to Heaven, and under his feet is a skull.  So we went there for more prayer and worship.

On the way back through the city center, we were surprised to find our Norwegian teammates.  They told us that the half hour appointment with the newspaperman had been extended to 50 minutes because he was so interested in what they had to tell him.  They prayed for him, prophesied over him, and showed him things in the Bible that he found very encouraging.  Needless to say, they were likewise encouraged by the meeting.

At that time, we split up, some going for lunch, others for a rest.  Afterwards, we met again for a more formal debriefing of our morning’s adventures before beginning our afternoon adventure on the hill: Gorica.  Podgorica means underneath or at the foot of Gorica.  In the Communist Era, Podgorica had been renamed Titograd, for Tito, dictator of Yugoslavia—and the name remains in some parts of the city.

A little way up the hill is the tomb of the Unknown Soldier from World War II.  Honestly, it looks just like an altar.  From there, it is obvious that the Communists, despite protesting that that they worship no god is a lie because they worship death.  The tomb of the Unknown Soldier is an altar to death, and there had been a spirit of death that has reigned for a long time over this city.  Our Balkan teammates both felt headaches coming on as we mounted the steps to the tomb.  They prayed the headache away, and it left immediately.  So we used our God-given authority and broke the death spirit’s hold on this land.  We also sang a worship song, and the heavy atmosphere lifted.

Farther up the hill, closer to the top, we found a couple of benches which were great places overlooking the city.  So we rested there before continuing up the hill.  At the top, Gorica is flat, and from there we couldn’t look down on the city.  There at the top, I felt a headache coming on in a different place from the side where I had always gotten migraines.  It was clearly a spiritual attack, but I just prayed it away, and it left immediately.  We prayed some prayers at the top, repenting for the blood-guilt upon the land, and performing a prophetic act by pouring a little wine into the soil to cover the blood-guilt with the blood of Christ.

Then we went back to the benches to pray, prophesy, and proclaim over the city.  Again, I felt hope rising in my spirit for this country.

At the foot of the hill is the oldest church in Montenegro.  It had fallen into disrepair, but is now being repaired, and restored.  Behind the church is a graveyard, with stone sarcophagi, many of which lay open and empty.  One even had a tree growing out of it.  That is a strong symbol of resurrection, and resurrection brought to mind that repeated feeling of hope.

In the evening, we went to meet with local believers: a couple who are expecting their first child in a few weeks, and the husband’s mother.  We got together for the purpose of encouraging them, but also to worship together.  As we worshiped, laughter broke out, first in the husband, then spreading to all of us.  I prophesied a joy anointing upon them and their house, rippling out to all the neighbors and across the city.  Also, I prophesied that their baby girl will be a worshiper—which was immediately confirmed by the wife.

So this was an amazing day, full of hope and worship and laughter.  God is good!

The Prince bows to the King of Kings

The Millennium Cross – The biggest cross in the world (sorry Rio!)

On the schedule was an item that said Prince Philip of Prussia would speak.  I wasn’t sure if this was an actual prince or if he fancied himself a prince or if he had taken the name Prince like the singer.  In any case, I was curious.

At the appointed time, a thin, well-dressed man came to the stage.  It didn’t even occur to me that this might be the prince because he’s a man that you would never pick out of a group as being royalty of any kind.  In fact, he seems almost too humble and unprepossessing.

He introduced himself and his family tree (follow the link above, and you can read all that).  Prince Philip became a believer at the age of eighteen, and is now a pastor.  He spoke of his great-grandfather, William II (also known as Kaiser Wilhelm), and the start of World War I.  Although he was deeply shocked by the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand and his wife, it was a war he never wanted.  When you understand the family relations, you will understand why he didn’t want the war: he was the eldest and best-loved grandson of Queen Victoria.  In fact, the rulers of Russia, Spain, Norway, Romania, the Netherlands, Denmark, and Greece were all his family.  So it’s easy to understand why he didn’t want war in Europe.  But the generals insisted that it was necessary to respond to the assassination quickly and with power.  The tragedy is that William II was a believer, but he lacked the faith to seek God for the answer.

So because of his great-grandfather’s lack of faith, a war resulted with over 37 million military and civilian deaths.  And William II abdicated, opening the way for Hitler (obviously, I’m over-simplifying for the sake of brevity), and the deadliest war of all time, World War II, with an estimated 30 – 50 million military and civilian deaths.

Then came a moment when the whole hall was so silent that it seemed that we scarcely dared to draw a breath.  Prince Philip drew a deep breath and stated his desire to repent on behalf of his family for Europe’s bloodiest century, and asked our forgiveness before God.  I was sitting in the first row, and I don’t know if I was first, but I didn’t see anyone before me leap to their feet faster and begin clapping.  Then the whole hall was on their feet, clapping and clapping for several minutes.  The conference leaders went up on stage and surrounded Prince Philip, and the applause went on and on.  My hands were aching, but I could not stop.  I applauded his courage and integrity, and my willingness to forgive such a man.  And I wanted him to know that he is forgiven.  Well, obviously, he knows that God forgives, but I wanted him to know that I forgive, too.

Finally, the conference leaders each embraced Prince Philip, stating their forgiveness on behalf of their nations and their families.  It was one of the most moving moments I’ve ever witnessed, and I feel certain that it changed the spiritual atmosphere over Europe.  Now, I believe, Revival can happen here.  God is good!

 

Reset!

There he is!  Alexander of Macedonia!

When I arrived in Skopje yesterday after three hours in a bus on windy mountain roads, I was pleasantly surprised to immediately meet friends in the lobby of my hotel.  Then came the unpleasant surprise that the hotel had overbooked, so instead of a double with my good friend Fifi, I was put in a five bed dormitory room with four strangers.  But of course, I realized that God’s people here in Europe all know many of the same people, so even if we didn’t have a previous connection with each other, we know the same people, and were able to expand each other’s networks a bit.  So that helped me to reset my attitude from annoyed to interested in meeting my new roommates, each of whom was here for the very same purpose: attending the European Trumpet Call.

So, soon after arriving, I took a walk downtown with Lars and his family.  Lars is Norwegian, but he has lived in France for many years.  He has a French wife and has raised a family in France.  Joining us was their friend, Monica, and also with Gerda, who were two my four unexpected roommates.  Both Monica and Gerda had requested single rooms, so we were all in the same predicament.  Lars and I had been to Skopje before, so we showed them Skopje’s major cultural overkill in the form of too many statues too close to one another, and some of them much larger than usual, like the statue of Alexander the Great—or Alexander of Macedonia, as he is known here.

Lars had a leaders meeting to attend for the conference, so he left us to our sightseeing.  Gerda noted that she had not eaten since breakfast, so we went to a good cafeteria under the shopping mall in the center of town.  This is a place where you can get real Macedonian dishes at a very good price.

As we ate and talked, a man at a table nearby overheard French, and asked about where we are from.  We told him: Brigitte, Stella, and Monica (Lars’ wife, daughter, and friend), from France, Gerda, from Germany, and me from Italy.  As we finished our meal, we spoke about the conference and about prayer.  I noticed that the man listened intently to our conversation.  Then he asked if we had tried ajvar, a Macedonian salad made from roasted peppers, garlic, eggplant, and colored red from paprika.  So he ordered us a plate of it.  We all tried some, and it was delicious.  He said that sometimes it can be quite spicy.  I told him: “Fa-la,” which means thank you.  He corrected with a much longer phrase, saying that fa-la is actually Albanian (or Serbian?  I don’t remember now).  Nevertheless, I have found that whenever I say fa-la in Macedonia, people understand that I’m saying thank you.  Having by far the youngest brain among us, and being also the least travel-weary, Stella took a mini-lesson right there, learning a few useful words and phrases.

Stella used those words at our next destination: a Christian-owned ice cream shop.  We enjoyed our dessert, and now the conversation became mostly French.  I was so tired by now, from travel and walking, that I just listened to it like the lovely sound of water in a rocky stream.

When we got back to the hotel, I went to our room, where two other women had joined us—both of them from Germany.  So then, after a brief period of including Monica and me, the conversation became German.  That was fine with me, and I went to bed with the murmuring of German, and fell instantly asleep.

This morning I woke up feeling very rested, having slept an astonishing eight hours (astonishing for me!), and got a coffee in the breakfast room.  Despite having had a good night’s sleep, I woke up in a bad mood, thinking about what a terrible hotel it was for overbooking, and the dormitory room had no way to close the bathroom door because of not having a handle.

But during my prayer time, God gave me Colossians 3:1: “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God,” (emphasis mine).  OK, thank You, Lord!  And I reset my mood from annoyed to grateful.  You know, I’m always happiest when I’m grateful.  I just need to remember to stay grateful.

The breakfast room filled up very fast, and Gerda, Katerina (one of our roommates), and Jillian (a friend I hadn’t expected to see here) all sat with me.  Katerina had been feeling ill last night, so I asked her if she was feeling better.  She had better color in her face this morning.  She shrugged and said, “Somewhat better.”  I told her that I would like to pray for her, and she said OK, but suggested that we wait until after breakfast.

After breakfast, Katerina was able to move into her single room, and in the meanwhile, I moved out of the dormitory room and left my suitcase at the front desk until my room would be ready.  I told them that I would move into my room during the lunch break.  Then I saw Katerina, and she invited me to her room to pray.  What I had thought would be a ten minute maximum prayer turned into a few hours, as I followed the leading of the Holy Spirit.  So I missed the morning session, but that was another reset.  I reset my schedule and priorities for the morning to do what God was leading me to do: pray for His daughter.

Katerina, three other friends who had just arrived, and I had lunch together in the hotel.  Then we went to change money and shop for things we had forgotten.  I needed toothpaste and mouthwash, having only packed the last bit of a larger tube.  That happens when you have one trip right after another.  I had neglected to check my supplies.  Then it was back to the hotel for a rest before the evening session.  And I found that Fifi had arrived.  I laid down and put my feet up as we caught up on each other’s travels and life.  Fifi’s travel schedule is pretty crazy, like mine, so we have a lot in common.

Halfway to the conference center (a fifteen minute walk from here), it began to rain—and not a little bit.  It rained buckets.  I had a small umbrella, which I shared with Fifi.  But we both wound up getting soaked anyway.  At the conference center I met many more friends—some that I had met in April when I had gone to Albania and Kosovo, and others that I had met years before, but had not seen since.  The evening session was worth getting wet for, and the walk back to the hotel was mercifully dry.

Then I did a dumb thing: I checked my email just before going to bed.  I got a message from my accountant, telling me that she needed some information that’s got to be turned in by June 30.  Of course, it’s information that I have back in Milan, but I won’t be back until the 29^th.  Normally, I try not to let stuff like this bother me, but at about 3 AM, the bars must have let out, and a big bunch of people were congregated under our window, talking loudly.  I tried to roll over and sleep through it, but then the message from the accountant started to add its voice.  So I got up and took my Bible into the bathroom (so as not to disturb Fifi).  And I repeated to myself God’s earlier message to me: “Set your mind on things above.”

But after praying and giving the worry to God, I opened my Bible, which “randomly” came open at Isaiah 33, and I read:

Those who walk righteously and speak what is right, who reject gain from extortion and keep their hands from accepting bribes, who stop their ears against plots of murder and shut their eyes against contemplating evil—they are the ones who will dwell on the heights, whose refuge will be the mountain fortress.  Their bread will be supplied, and water will not fail them.  Your eyes will see the king in his beauty and view a land that stretches afar.  In your thoughts you will ponder the former terror: “Where is that chief officer?  Where is the one who took the revenue?  Where is the officer in charge of the towers?”

Isaiah 33:15-18 (emphasis mine)

Needless to say, this was powerful reassurance (with a Rapture scenario included—“dwell on the heights”!).  So once again, I reset my mind from anxiety mode to rest.  God is good!

A Fun Day’s Work

Lake Ohrid

I have often commented that my work as a missionary doesn’t feel like work.  I mean, every job I’ve ever had, even if it started out pleasantly enough, has turned into a chore sooner or later.  But working for God started as very pleasant and agreeable, and grown to become fun and a passion.  Yesterday was no exception.

I met Jasmin after lunch, and she showed me around her town.  We saw shops and markets, ruins and churches, cafes and parks—and all that was very nice, and even fun to see.  But it was the other things that she showed me that really grabbed my heart: her friends.  First we met Rossa, a young woman who was on her way to work, but she told us that she needed to go to the park to get her head together first.  Jasmin confided to me (in love for her friend, and without any hint of judgment in her voice or manner) that she was probably stoned and needed to come down before she starts work.  Then she took me to meet Ana, but her shop was busy, so we didn’t stop.  As we walked on, we met Nico, who told us that he had just had coffee with Jasmin’s son, Kyle (who is in his twenties).  Then we said hi to Vlad, who sells jewelry and beads.  Jasmin laughingly calls Vlad a fellow hippie (despite his traditional clothing) because of his homemade jewelry stand on the corner.  Finally, we met Zoltan, the local philosopher (he calls philosophy a science!—Sorry, but having been married to a real scientist, I can just imagine how well that would be taken!  J).  We sat and had a coffee with Zoltan and met others who came by to say hi.

On our walk through town, we met some people who had stayed on after the Prayer Conference.  They had told Jasmin a few days ago that they were staying an extra day to do ministry here.  Immediately Jasmin was on the alert.  She asked if she could meet with them first, and they agreed.  She confided to me that she wanted to be sure that they weren’t going to go out and pass out tracts.  Tracts didn’t work well, even in their day, but now, and especially in the hard soil of the Balkans, it could undo everything that Jasmin has been working toward: friendship evangelism, which must begin with genuine friendship.  And friendship takes time.  But when we met them in the town square, they told us that they were prayer walking, and wanted to go to the top of the hill to pray over the town.  This news put Jasmin at ease.  Prayers are always welcome because prayer moves the hand of God.  So she showed them on the map how to get to the top of the hill, and we went our separate ways.

On and on through the town Jasmin and I walked, meeting people that she has been put here to love.  And love them she does!  As with Rossa, each person’s situation was explained to me without judgment, but rather full of love.  In fact, her whole family: Jasmin, her husband Rich, and Kyle, are all very kind, loving, relational people.  Most people respond to that love, with genuine affection for each of them.

And yet, despite their friendliness, they are not universally loved.  Their house is situated between the houses of two brothers on what used to be their little private harbor on the lake.  Many years ago someone came in and bought that tiny sliver of land between their houses and built over the harbor.  The brothers’ anger and hatred for that person has also transferred to each of that person’s renters, including Jasmin and her family.  As we approached her house, Jasmin went over to a car idling outside of a tiny garage.  She offered to close the garage door, so that the driver wouldn’t have to get out.  But it turns out that he was actually about to park the car.  Jasmine smiled and explained to me that he was one of the brothers, and that even if he had been heading out, he has never accepted even the smallest kindness or favor from them.  Nevertheless, she always has cookies baked to share with them, continues to offer to help, like with the garage door, and continues to love and pray for them.

Inside the house, I prayed with Jasmin and Rich for their family and for their ministry, and when I came to the situation with the brothers, I felt such compassion for them.  Imagine spending decades with hatred and bitterness flowing through your veins like a poison!  But as I prayed, God showed me that like a stalagmite that is built drip-by-drip-by-drip, a good relationship with the brothers will also build—and a good deal faster than a stalagmite.

Jasmin and Rich want to start an AA (alcohol and drug abuse) program here, and it is very much needed.  There are many cultural and legal barriers to be overcome, but I know that God can indeed overcome all barriers.  Through relationship building, they will also soon be accepted for this important work.

Jasmin, Rich, and Kyle were brought to Macedonia, to this little town, for exactly such a time as this.  They are the right people in the right place, even if they may seem (in fact, are) extremely different from the rest of the townspeople.  Their differentness will be used by God to great advantage in reaching people here with God’s love.

Jasmin said to me: “So this is what I do: I go around, have a coffee with this friend, go visit that friend, and then do it all again the next day.”  Jasmin (indeed Rich and Kyle, too) understands that relationships take time, and time is an investment.  I quoted that saying: “People don’t care what you know until they know that you care.”  And Jasmin agreed.  Here are people who are living that out day-by-day.  And once the barriers of language and culture and religion have been finally overcome, then people will be open to receive the wonderful hope that is found only in the Good News of Salvation in Jesus Christ.  God is good!

Prayers by the Lake

The moon over Lake Ohrid from my balcony

Would that I could make musicians out of stone, and dancers out of the sand of the lake, and singers out of the leaves of all the trees in the mountains, so that they might help me glorify the Lord and so that the voice of the earth might be heard amidst the choirs of angels!

The sons of men gorge themselves at the table of the absent Master, and do not sing for anyone except themselves and their mouthfuls, which must eventually return to the earth.

Exceedingly sad is the blindness of the sons of men, who do not see the power and glory of the Lord.  A bird lives in the forest, and does not see the forest.  A fish swims in the water, and does not see the water.  A mole lives in the earth, and does not see the earth.  In truth, the similarity of man to birds, fish, and moles is exceedingly sad.

People, like animals, do not pay attention to what exists in excessive abundance, but only open their eyes before what is rare or exceptional.

There is too much of You, O Lord, my breath, therefore people do not see You.  You are too obvious, O Lord, my sighing, therefore the attention of people is diverted from You and directed toward polar bears, toward rarities in the distance.

You serve Your servants too much, my sweet faithfulness, therefore You are subjected to scorn.  You rise to kindle the sun over the lake too early, therefore sleepyheads cannot bear You.  You are too zealous in lighting the vigil lamps in the firmament at night, my unsurpassed zeal, and the lazy heart of people talks more about an indolent servant than about zeal.

O my love, would that I could motivate all the inhabitants of the earth, water, and air to hum a hymn to You!  Would that I could remove leprosy from the face of the earth and turn this wanton world back into the sort of virgin that You created!

Truly, my God, You are just as great with or without the world.

You are equally great whether the world glorifies You or whether the world blasphemes You.  But when the world blasphemes You, You seem even greater in the eyes of Your saints.

Taken from ‘Prayers by the Lake’ by Nikolai Velimirovic

This morning, with the conference ended yesterday afternoon, I woke up and opened the curtain to see the moon, big and almost full over Lake Ohrid.  During the conference, there has been an optional session of morning prayers, featuring some of the Prayers by the Lake, like the above.  The lake that inspired Nikolai Velimirovic (and mentioned in this prayer) is this very lake.

When I saw the moon, I said, “You put the moon there!” and I realized both how great and powerful God is, and at the same time how personally and intimately He cares for me.  He knows the number of hairs on my head—something I neither know or could know even if I tried to count them.

After arriving here, travel-weary and badly in need of sleep, God has given me lots of opportunity to both connect with people and to rest.  And He has given me an extra day here after the conference to enjoy some rest in this beautiful setting before I scurry back to Skopje for European Trumpet Call, and then another prayer trip with Operation Capitals of Europe.

The verse God gave me for today is Psalm 9:1:

I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of Your wonderful deeds.

Yes, the best way that I can thank God for all this is to write about it so that others can know what a great and sweet, kind and powerful, intimately and personally loving God we have.  If you don’t know Him in these ways, all you have to do is to ask.  He will show his love and power to you, too.

The greatest gift of all is the gift of His Son, Jesus, who died in our place.  If you don’t know Jesus as your personal Savior, just ask Him to be that for you, believing that He will do it.  Even if you only have a little faith, God can use it and grow it.  God is good!

Traveling Mercies

This is the view from my balcony!

Greetings from Ohrid, Macedonia!

Yesterday I had what could have been an extremely stressful day of travel.  But it wasn’t stressful because I made the decision not to worry about anything.  And through this experience, I learned what real traveling mercies look like.

I had arrived home at about 7:30 in the evening from a two day visit with missionaries in Tuscany.  That gave me exactly ten hours in which to unpack, do two loads of laundry, pack for this trip (just over two weeks, traveling and ministering in the Balkans), catch up on computer work (bookkeeping, emailing, etc.), and get some sleep.

I got up at 3:30 yesterday morning and did some last minute stuff before leaving the house—later than I had intended!—to get the bus to the train station.  The electronic bus arrival sign indicated that the bus would be there in twenty minutes.  Thus started my day of travel with the first thing that could have stressed me out.  But I decided not to let it stress me.  Often the bus arrives sooner than predicted, which was what I prayed for.  But no!  The bus took every bit of twenty minutes to get there.

When the bus came it was packed with early morning foreign workers and homeless people who use the bus as a place to sleep.  At the first stop another woman with a suitcase boarded.  The train station is where you catch a bus to the airport.  As we approached the train station, the woman became agitated because I was between her and the door.  And when the door opened, she shot past me, running to an airport bus.  When I got there, I saw that she was on the same bus I was taking, but the bus didn’t leave until immediately after my bag was loaded and I got onto the bus.

On the bus ride, I started praying that I wouldn’t miss the flight because of being late.  But, having prayed, I decided to leave the issue with God, who could fix things in any number of ways, including stopping time at the airport, if He decided to do so.

When we got to the airport, my bag, being last loaded was first unloaded, and I went in, looking at the board for my flight’s check in area.  I had to do that because my stay in the Balkans is over two weeks, so I couldn’t travel with only carry on.  The bus had parked in front of a different door, which happened to be the door right in front of my flight’s check in area.  There was no line, and no problem getting checked in.  I also went through security with hardly a line at all.

Seeing that I had some time, I got some breakfast and a bottle of water to take onto the plane.  Since my flight was with Austrian Airlines, we changed in Vienna.  One strange thing that I noticed on this plane was that the information screens all deployed just fine except for one at about row seventeen on the left, as you looked from the back of the plane.  That screen opened and shut and opened and shut continuously for the whole duration of the flight, which was odd.  Otherwise it was an uneventful flight, and we arrived in Vienna a little ahead of schedule.  The plane was parked way out on the tarmac, and we had to take a bus to the terminal.

At the terminal, I had about an hour and a half to make my connection, but as it was in a different terminal, I had to actually exit the security area and walk for at least half an hour before I got to my terminal.  Then I had to go through security again, and I was a little annoyed at having to throw out half a bottle of water, which meant that if I had time I would have to buy another.  And because I was traveling to a non-Schengen country (Macedonia), I had to also go through passport control.  As flight time ticked away, I could have gotten stressed out over all this, but again, I prayed and gave the situation to God.

Once through security and passport control, and buying a new bottle of water, I saw that our gate was one where a bus takes you out to the plane.  Usually in this situation, with assigned seats, I prefer to wait until most of the rest of the passengers are already on the bus.  Why hurry, just to stand on a bus as people slowly trickle on?  As often happens, being last on, I was first off and onto the plane.

I found my seat at the back of the plane, and just before takeoff, I noticed something strange: the information screen several rows in front of me was opening and shutting, opening and shutting.  I was on the very same aircraft!  At that realization, I laughed out loud, startling the people around me.  Just think of the 30 minute walk, out of security, across the whole airport, back through security and passport control, just to wind up back on the very same airplane—and only a few seats away from my original seat.  I knew that God had a hand in all this just to make me laugh.  If I had been stressed and worrying, I might not ever have noticed the information screen, or might not have noticed it a second time.  But my relaxed mood had me calmly looking around and noticing strange things like that.

In Skopje, I got my bag and pulled out the information paper that told us where to meet.  We were supposed to meet for the bus to Ohrid at 1:00 PM, sharp.  So I read, and it said to meet at the Post Office under the train station—in downtown Skopje!  I had only 40 minutes to get there from the airport, and I still needed to change money because although you can change all sorts of money in Italy, you can’t buy Macedonian Dinar there.

I found a taxi stand, and it said that a ride to Skopje costs €20.  I asked if I could pay with a credit card.  The driver said no, but he would accept Euros.  So I got in, praying that we would make it on time.  When I told him where to go, he said, “There is a Post Office just inside the airport.”  I said, “No, I need to go to the one at the train station.”  He kept arguing with me, insisting that I didn’t have to go to that Post Office when there is one just inside the airport.  Really?  Was he trying to argue himself out of a fare?  Anyway, I finally was able to convince him to take me to the train station.  Again, I prayed on the drive that we would get there in time, and didn’t stress or worry about it.  I had done my best, and now it was up to God.

We actually got there with a few minutes to spare.  Right away I found others who were waiting for the bus.  Waiting turned out to be some pretty good networking time.  The bus ride to Ohrid took about two hours, and on the way, I slept—at least until we got to the winding mountain roads.

The conference got off to a great start, and I look for more good things today.  But the most important thing is that I arrived relaxed and feeling good.  I hadn’t had a chance to get lunch, but skipping lunch is not the worst thing that could happen to a person, especially in light of all the good things that happened on the journey.  God turned what could have been a very stressful day of travel into a good day of travel, even enjoyable.  God is good!