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We stepped out of the van bleary-eyed and starchy-mouthed into the dark street. A group of locals stood smoking nearby, greenish-sliver smoke leaking out from their mouths and between their fingers. Our driver pulled our bags from the trunk of the car and dropped them inside the gate and plastered concrete walls. My team tripped after him, staring up at the house that would be our home for the next 2 1/2 months. Everything was painted concrete, from the blue and orange striped spiral staircase to the flowers sketched on the side of the garage. We followed the woman in charge of the home, Heidi, to our room, at the very top of the slippery tiled staircase. I share a room with the rest of Avodah. It has 6 bunks crowded against the bright purple walls. One wall features a pentagonal window overlooking the courtyard and the city of Craiova.  

It’s morning now, and my entire team is knocked out from a bad case of jet lag. Travel day was long, beginning Friday morning and not ending until Saturday night, with a layover in Paris, a memorable experience at customs, and no sleep in between. I glance out the window, my head pounding with confusion, exhaustion, and dehydration from the massive travel day, and am utterly blown away by what I see. Rusty tiled roofs, cheerfully painted houses, rickety chimney tops puffing smoke, and pidgeons perched on telephone lines are spread out before me. A chorus of dogs release thier anxious howls, a rooster screeches next door, and a bright orange cat leaps gracefully from one roof to the next (Later we named the cat toffee) God loves this city. I am so blessed to be here. 

No one else is awake. I feel like I’m at a sleepover when I have to go home but everyone else wants to sleep until noon. Raul, our host and the pastor of Hope Church, mentioned an opportunity to go to church that morning (It’s Sunday) and that he would send someone to come walk us from the Mission House to the Church. I creep downstairs to wait, soon joined by six others to follow Sebastian into the city. It was about a 15 minute walk, stretched across graffitied walls, crumbling brick, and beautiful ancient buildings. We saw spiraled towers rising above construction-blocked buildings and Sebastian had no qualms about crossing busy streets where my instinct told me to stay put and wait until there weren’t any cars speeding towards me. My squamate asked Sebastian if he had ever been hit by a car. Sebastian just laughed. 

The church was the basement apartment of a bank. I had never seen a church like it before. The walls were painted white, there were no windows, and crates wrapped in twinkle lights backed a small stage. Sebastian shepherded us through the doors and we stood uncertainly until someone else pointed us to our seats. A woman who spoke English told us that worship would be starting shortly and that she would be translating the sermon for us. 30 other worshippers joined us before a man began to strum a guitar and sing in soft Romanian. The last song was half Romanian, half English. It was beautiful, the true worshippers worshiping in spirit and in truth on God’s holy mountain, or, in God’s holy basement apartment. After the sermon we took communion with the others. Crackers and small glasses filled with dark purple liquid were passed around, and as Raul repeated Romanian phrases, I remembered what Jesus said about the last supper. That it was His own Body and Blood, that it was real food and drink, and that we are to use this sacrament as a reminder that only His beautiful Body and His priceless Blood can save us from our sins. Everyone in the room believed that promise, cherishing it as their inheritance. If we share an inheritance, doesn’t that make us brothers and sisters regardless of our age, nationality, or language? 

 I am now sitting on the window ledge as I write this, the sun burning bright orange beneath the smaug and coating everything in liquid gold. My team is organizing our room, and I have a strong feeling of holiday, as if I were at my grandparents house with my cousins playing a game before a meal. Later we will share breakfast burritos for dinner and cards and laughter. On Tuesday we begin ministry. I can’t wait to explore this city and know these people who God adores. 

 Prayer Requests:

  • All of our squad was negative for Covid! However, those who are unvaccinated are required to quarantined for 14 days. Please pray for continued health and safety. 
  • Please pray for ministry. Pray for the men and women and children we are about to interact with. Pray that we will reach out to at least 20 new teenagers this month. 
  • Pray for spiritual warfare. Many of my squadmates have felt the darkness in this city. Pray for the Lord to protect us and shelter us under His wings. 
  • Pray for Hope Church. Pray for their various ministries we are here to strengthen and encourage. The Lord has been working here long before we came, and His hand will continue to bless this place long after we leave. 
  • Pray for Raul and his family who are hosting us. Pray that the Lord will bless them and keep them, that His face will shine upon them and that He will be good to them. 

2 responses to “Craiova”

  1. Ruth Ann better known as “Ruthie”
    As I read your message each day, I sit in wonder of the many times we sat at the
    kitchen counter and drew some of the
    most beautiful and creative drawings for
    someone your age!! Now I see another
    beautiful young lady drawing and creating
    for our Lord every day! I love your writing
    the blog and telling us about your experiences. We pray for you and your
    teammates every day. Be safe and know
    we love and miss you but, most of all
    we love your spirit of reaching and bringing the word of our Lord to others.
    In Christ’s . Love Granmommie and
    Pappy Jack