It's the Little Things

It has been a very exciting day!  Not because a lot of things have happened, but because one very important, very basic thing happened.  My shower is now tiled!!!!  EEK!!  I'm really happy about it :)

You're probably thinking one of two things: why is that such a big deal or what did your shower have before tile?

I'll answer the latter. It had nothing.  Ok, ok, not nothing.  I mean there is a wall.  Mercy, goodness, there is definitely a wall.

There just happened to be nothing to deflect the moisture.  Aka, the walls were basically painted drywall.  With no ventilation, other than leaving the door open to the shower once in a while, the room was having some serious issues.  And these serious issues were multiplying.

When I first arrived the bathroom was painted, and looked nice and fairly clean.

After a month or so though, the paint started to peel off the walls and mold started to grow.  Yes, pretty gross, but I did my best to at least get rid of the mold.  The cleaning sprays would reduce the mold for a little bit resulting in more paint coming off than mold.

The neighbor directly beneath us also came us a few times to complain that she was getting water in her apartment from our's.  One time, she even took Suz down to her apartment and made her climb on a stool just to look at the water stain she had on her wall.

Then, when I returned from my Christmas/New Year's trip, I discovered that our kitchen was mysteriously flooding.  So I called my dear friend Evelina, and she called my landlord for me.  He came the next day and decided it was coming from the washing machine.  So he came back the next day to replace the water line.

But the flooding came back, and eventually, Suz and I discovered that water was seeping into the wall of our shower (from a very large crack in the drywall and the crevice where grout used to line our tub) through the wall and out through our kitchen tiles!

I called Evelina again, and she graciously relayed the problem.  But nothing happened.  Then this week, our downstairs neighbor paid us another visit.  Her water stain had grown it seemed, but when Suz explained that it was a problem for us too and that we had already called our landlord, she become quite understanding.  Raising her fist slightly, she assured Suz that she would call them and "shout at them." No worries, "discussions" in Russian tend to be pretty loud.

Wednesday we received a message that Sergei would be coming to tile the shower Saturday, and we couldn't use the shower after Thursday afternoon.  This afternoon, when I returned from the kid's club I've been helping out at, I found Sergei hard at work laying the tile.  The tiles don't all match, and the shower isn't fully lined, but it's a major improvement!

 

Please Please Please Join This Fight!

Hi friends, I have some urgent news to share with you.   Right before I left for the great European Roadtrip,  I meet two girls that work with Justice (A.C.T.S.): Alliance of Christians Against Trafficking.  Based in South Africa, they were traveling around Europe learning about the human trafficking situation in other countries and providing resources and assistance to other groups who are also combating trafficking.

They were really great girls, about my age and volunteering with this organization for a extended period of time, much like my other intern friends and I. In fact, we had plans to take a daytrip to another part of Moldova, before all of our schedules were changed, I rushed off to Germany, and they left earlier than expected for more of Eastern Europe.

Anyways, today one of them posted on her facebook, "Please keep praying.  It isn't over yet." And included a link to their blog: http://justicenews.tumblr.com/.

They are in a battle to save a life.  In some African nations, Albino Africans are killed, simply because they are Albino, and then their organs are sold and used for witchcraft.  I had read stories on this before, but the fact is.  This isn't JUST a story.  This isn't meant to entertain you.  This isn't meant to make you feel guilty for being American, for having the freedom to actually walk in your skin.  This is REAL.  This is ACTUALLY HAPPENING!  I'm sharing this to make you aware!  Please don't turn a blind eye to the tragedies that are occurring around the world TODAY.   Dare to be so bold as to look straight on as these tragedies.  Don't cringe.  Don't turn your face.  Because we know the King of kings!  And my God SEES these tragedies.  He is aware!!!  And He will bring justice.

So please, please join me and those directly in the battle, in prayer!  It is our most powerful tool as Christians!  Pray for "Brittany" to find refuge and safety physically and spiritually on this journey! Please pray.

Thank you!  Thank you so much for your love!  I know so many of you have been following my blog, and it really means a lot to me that you care what is going on here.  And I know so many of you have been faithfully praying for me.  For that I can never thank you enough!

"And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us.  And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests that we have asked of him."  1 John 3:17

Airplanes in the Night Sky....

Sometimes I find that I can't speak.  Often times I have plenty I would like to say and many thoughts racing through my mind, but somehow the words to express and convey those thoughts to another human being never come.  My mouth can't find the energy to release the sounds of words, and my fingers can't find the strength to write the lettters.  So what am I supposed to do?  Press through the blockade?  Stumble over my words and trip over the keys?  Sometimes  I do.  But tonight, tonight I must be silent.


Patience my friends.

~ Redeemed

"The living, the living, he thanks you, as I do this day..."

Do you ever read something that jolts you awake like a splash of cold water on your face in the morning?

I've had this experience quite a few times recently.  The passage that awakens my heart to some truth previously overlooked, not the splash of cold water....I much prefer to wake up with a splash of warm water.

The title of this post comes from Isaiah 38.  In Isaiah 38, Hezekiah, king of Judah, became sick.  The Lord told Hezekiah that he would not recover from the illness, but Hezekiah prayed to the Lord, and the Lord healed him.  Afterwards, Hezekiah wrote a praise to the Lord.  This is the part that stood out to me:

"Behold, it was for my welfare that I had great bitterness;
       but in love you have delivered my life from the pit of destruction,
   for you have cast all my sins behind your back.
       For Sheol does not thank you; death does not praise you;
   those who go down to the pit do not hope for your faithfulness.
       The living, the living, he thanks you, as I do this day;
   the father makes known to the children your faithfulness."

Isaiah 38:17-19

In love, He has delivered me from death.  In love.
What great love.  What deep love.  What a way to define love!
He has cast all my sins behind his back.  I am forgiven and redeemed!

This is what really gets me: "Death does not praise you;"  I've been thinking about unbelievers and wondering how odd and silly and foolish the idea of faith in God must seem to them.  Coming from the "Bible Belt" to Eastern Europe, I've seen a widespread lack of understanding of faith.  Oh yes, there are religious practices, but religion is a formal thing.  In traveling to Western Europe, and just from being friends with Western Europeans, a lack of exposure to religion in general and faith, more specifically, seems to be the issue. Knowing this, I would think I would praise my Lord all the more and be outspoken about Christianity, but ashamedly, I find myself resigning to speaking of my faith mostly with other Christians and speaking to nonbelievers when they ask.  I've been afraid of their doubt, their skepticism, their judgement.  But who are they that I should be concerned about their judgement?  I answer to the Lord.  Yes, it may seem foolish to trust in the Lord to them, but isn't that what Paul spoke of so many times in the New Testament?

"For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God." 1 Corinthians 1:18

The Holy Spirit is still moving and working.  The "veil" is still being lifted from the eyes of the lost to understand the "foolishness of Christ."  

So why should I quiet myself?  These are the dead.  Yes, those who do not know His love, grace, faithfulness are dead.  How can they praise the name of One they do not acknowledge?!

But I am one of the living!  I am alive in Christ!  This is my testimony, "I have been crucified with Christ.  It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. " (Galations 2:20) And as such, I must and I will praise His Name!

I hope you're encouraged and challenged by this as well.  Many thanks for those who have been so faithful to pray for me.  Your prayers are felt.  If you're praying for me, please pray for boldness that my actions and my words would display the love of Christ!  Please, this is my burden, this is my fight: to withstand the doubts and fears and lies that assault my mind and to be a light shining brightly, boldly, and faithfully until the coming of our King.

~ Redeemed

Oh the Adventures....

Well, if you've known me for any length of time, you've probably noticed that no matter how simple a task seems, it always turns into an adventure for me.  My Christmas trip was no exception.

I should explain that Moldova only has one international airport, conveniently located in Chisinau, and multiple flights in and out each day.  However, because it is such a small airport, the costs of flying in and out are much higher.  Meredith and Brandon both recommended taking a bus from Chisinau to Bucharest, Romania, flying out of Bucharest to destination of choice, and then flying back into Chisinau airport (supposedly the bus stop is impossible to find in Bucharest, even for fluent Romanian speakers).

Brandon and I both had trips planned and were planning on taking the bus + flight option.  Thursday afternoon we headed over to the Centrul Piata (central market) to purchase our bus tickets.  My flight out of  Bucharest was set for 2 pm Saturday.  The bus ride takes about 9 hours, so in order to get to the airport early, as is required for international flights, I was going to have to take the overnight bus which would be leaving at 9 pm Friday.

I was taking note of the way through the market to the bus station and asked Brandon a couple questions about the rutiera to the station.  Because he's a decent guy he offered to come with me, and because I'm ridiculously independent sometimes, I turned him down.  Point to note: I was still slightly smarting from my friend Pasha's motherly directive to Brandon the day before to, "Look out for Emily!"  Hah.  Humorous to him maybe, but I just moved halfway around the world, and yes, I get lost and overly excited about snow and occasionally turn the gas on without lighting the oven, but I DO NOT need a babysitter.  Hmmph.  

Anyways, Friday turned out to be a cold dreary day in Moldova.  The whole city was covered in a thick heavy fog.  In fact, flights out of Chisinau were cancelled.  I set out for the bus station a couple of hours before the bus was to leave (at Brandon's warning that his last bus almost left without him a half hour early).  Darkness falls around 4 pm in Moldova.  Nightfall combined with the fog made it really difficult to make out the numbers on the rutieras as I made my way to the centrul piata.  Once on the rutiera, I quickly discovered that it was equally as difficult to make out landmarks outside of the rutiera in the current weather conditions.  I thought I knew where to get off, but finally admitting that I might be confused, I tried to ask the driver.  He didn't understand so I showed him my bus ticket, and he shook his head and waved his hand back indicating that we were past it.  Oops.

That's ok.  I'll just walk back down the street.


Right.

I walked back one street...two streets...hmmm.....

Thankfully there just happened to be a gas station on the corner (not as common as in the states, dear friends).  I ran in and asked the guy behind the counter if he spoke English.  "A little," he replied.  So I said I needed to get to the central bus station.  "O problema!" he says.  Great.   "I don't understand," he finished.  Oh, lol.  It wasn't the directions.  He didn't understand my English!    So I take out the bus ticket again and point at the address.  "OH!!"  Yes! He gets it!  He kindly motioned to go back up the street, cross to the left, and go down that way.  I head out the door, and another guy who had been sitting behind the counter jumps up and motions for me to just follow him.  He walked across the street with me, and then I was given more hand-motion directions.

I kept walking.  It was dark and foggy and I didn't recognize anything!  When we had gone to purchase the tickets, the market had been alive.  Leather shoes on stands, sweaters on tables, fur hats, lots of breads, and plenty of plastic products from brooms to bowls filled the booths.  Throngs of people weaving about each other.

But at eight o'clock at night, the market place was asleep.  The stalls were all closed up.  The tables were packed away.  The streets were empty, but for one or two people walked up the sidewalk.  The only lights came from the few signs along the more permanent buildings.

I crossed the street and spotted a man waiting for a rutiera.  Pulling out my bus ticket, I asked him for directions.  He was nice and motioned for me to keep going down the street.  I walked down another block. And then I had to choose: left or right.  Great.  Maybe I should've let Brandon come.  No, that's ridiculous.  You're perfectly capable.  Dear Lord, please help me to find this and not miss my bus!  Left.  


Whew.  Another block down and I spotted the lights of the bus terminal (using terminal loosely).

There are only two buses in the terminal, and mine is the only one with people in it.  Well, it hasn't left yet.  That's good.  There were people standing next to a bench outside of the bus.  Figuring that they were just waiting to board, I lingered near them.  The bus driver came out of the bus and made a rather loud inquiry.  I had no clue what he said, but cautious that this might mean something about boarding, I stepped forward and showed him my ticket.  He wasn't very excited when I didn't understand his Romanian.  He was telling me what my seat number was.  He directed me to put my bag in the under storage, and I then I boarded the surprisingly nice tour-style bus.   The bus driver came in and fussed at a couple of guys to take the correct seats and a few more people boarded.  A half-hour later, we pulled out of Chisinau heading for Bucharest.

Are you exhausted?  Haha, that was just the beginning!   I'll give you a break and continue in another post :)

Crăciun Fericit! Merry Christmas (again)!

It's Christmas Day again here in Moldova.  And, no, I don't mean "again" as in another year, I mean Christmas is celebrated twice here!  Though many people, especially evangelical Christians, celebrate Christmas on December 25 with the rest of the west, the government still follows the Orthodox calendar in recognizing January 7 as the official Christmas holiday.  But as everyone living here is prone to say, "It's Moldova!"

Christmas is an  odd holiday for me.  Hang on, I'll explain.  I love the festivities, the tinsel on front porches and lighted trees behind glass windows.  I love the nativity scenes, such beautiful depictions of our idea of what Christmas night looked like.  I love pulling my nutcrackers out of their boxes.  Each nutcracker brings back memories of a trip or someone special, and all bring Christmas memories of years gone by.  I love the sudden warmth felt as in kindred spirit people bustle about finding Christmas presents, preparing for ballets and concerts and cantatas, and baking ridiculous mounds of cookies and fudge.  It's great.  Sort of.

But to be honest, I've become jaded about Christmas.  Tired of the presents and decorations.  Tired of them lasting only a month or so, to be taken down so abruptly.  And tired of wondering how to celebrate.  Ok, so a big part of my sluggish Christmas spirit is that I miss my grandma, Mama Peggy, and the traditions my family had.  For a few years, we never knew what we were going to be doing for Christmas.  My parents have started a new tradition though; they help prepare and serve food for shut-ins, prisoners, and homeless people on Christmas Day.  I'm so thankful for parents that are willing to serve like they do, and willing to make it a part of how our family celebrates the humble birth of Christ.

Anyways, all of that to say, that I was having a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit here.  To my own surprise, I wasn't really that homesick.  Now hang on, of course I miss my family and friends.  They're my heart.  I can't imagine my life without each of them.  But God's grace is so great.  And when He called me to this country, He gave me peace.  It's by His strength, not due to any absence of affection, that homesickness hasn't been as big of a struggle as one might have thought.



I thought maybe it was because the decorations were sparse in comparison to home.  So I bought a Christmas candle and put it in my window at work, and Brandon decided to start serenading the office with Christmas music instead of country (thankfully the two weren't combined).




But somehow, it still didn't feel like Christmas.  Maybe the snow was throwing me off?

Finally, the night before I was planning on leaving for my Christmas trip, I started to get excited.  And the funny thing was, I wasn't really excited about the destinations.  I was pretty darn excited about a bus ride and airport waits.  I downloaded some podcasts from Newspring Church and Elevation Church, packed my journal and my Bible, and I was ready to focus on the Christmas announcement of the birth of Immanuel, "God with us."  This theme just kept resounding with me.  And God was with me. Of course the trip didn't go how I planned, but God showed me so many things on this trip.   I'll give you a reading break and expound on that in another post.  And now I've had the blessing of celebrating God with us not once, but twice :)   Merry Christmas!