I can’t imagine my life being any different than it is now. It’s almost a perpetual dream, that I wake up daily in Romania to the red roofs and chilly chimney tops, and that I walk each evening under a canopy of Christmas lights. I sift out of my sleeping bag, swinging my legs off of my bunk, and shuffle out of Avodah’s bedroom. Our squad is living in “The Mission House”, the home of Raul and Anna, our ministry hosts. It’s a 3-story blue and orange concrete house with a window-plastered spiral staircase and slippery orange tiles glued to the floor. In the kitchen, I mix oatmeal and tea for myself, then pick a sunny spot on the staircase to read my Bible. Outside, a cat leaps from one roof to the other, scampering over burnt-umber tiles. 

The mornings are always chaotic, with half the squad making thier pb&j lunches, the other half munching cereal, and everyone else running around asking to borrow someone’s pair of pants. But every morning at 8am, Avodah gathers on the floor of our bedroom to begin the morning in prayer. Around 8:30, I grab my bag and begin the 15 minute walk to ministry. Pigeons gather in the square, magnetized to each other’s movements with clone-like instinct. Usually someone will try to kick one, but I’ve been the only one on the squad who has achieved contact. 

We arrive at the church by 9 and open our day with 15 minutes of worship followed by an hour of prayer. After that, we might be treated to teaching by Raul, or help his assistant with administrative tasks until 12. Lunch break lasts 2 hours and looks different every day. Some stay in the church office to nap or to take advantage of the wifi, some go thrifting, and some decide to explore the city. Today, I’m getting lunch with some squadmates. Patisseries are on the corner of every street, where you can buy a fresh croissant or a sandwich or a slice of pizza with a side of confusion at the language barrier. Very few of us do more than point and mouth meaningless words at the amused bakers as they smile behind the glass. 

From 2 to 6 is time for ministry. Today, I have a coffee date with one of my Romanian friends. Ministry here looks like relationship building: making friends on streets and in coffee shops, learning their stories and telling ours, and asking them to church or to worship. Hope Church is small, with very few youth and young adults. We know that a healthy church is multi-generational, but the Orthodox Church in Romania has skewed most people’s vision of who Christ is and what His followers believe. As we build relationships, we can’t help but speak about the reason we are here, not only in Romania, but also on this Earth. We speak about how we ourselves stumble into church, unworthy and covered in bloody stains of sin, and how we are daily washed clean in the rivers of His grace. They can see it on our faces when we speak about Him, they can hear the joy and ferver in the excitement of our voices. Gap G is full of the most devoted followers of Christ that I’ve ever known, it contains the brightest hearts that once were stone but now are of warm, sincere flesh. I have watched my squad mates leap into the roles of evangelists, prophets, teachers, and leaders. It really is a beautiful thing, to see them grow in grace even as we speak life into a broken world. 

DAY IN THE LIFE TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK!