11 February 2008

Monday

“Our Father in heaven,

hallowed be your name.

Your kingdom come.

Your will be done,

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our debts,

as we also have forgiven our debtors.

And do not bring us to the time of trial,

but rescue us from the evil one.”

Matthew 6:9-13

            Ionuţ and I have been living on our daily bread for awhile now.  Just when I think there is no more food in the house and no money to buy more, somehow enough money for one more trip to the market falls into my hands.  We’re working and trusting God’s word when he said that, “The laborer deserves his food.” (Matt. 10:10)  But how far does this provision thing go?  In Philippians we are promised, “And my God will fully satisfy every need of yours according to his riches in Glory in Christ Jesus.”  That’s every need. 

About a week ago, Ionuţ and I went to Amsterdam.  For free.  Some friends of ours had lost the transmission in their van, and it was cheaper for them to pay their mechanics in Ghioroc (Romania) to drive to Holland to fix it than to take it to a shop in Amsterdam.  The mechanics only spoke Romanian and Italian, and the Dutch couple only speaks Dutch, German, and English.  So Ionuţ and I went along as translators.  We left on Thursday morning at 2:30, got to Amsterdam at 10:30 that evening, slept, the mechanics replaced the transmission the next morning, and Friday evening we were back on the road home.  It was fast, but it was fun.  While the men were working on the car, the wife took us into town, to the market.  Our eyes were popping out of our heads to see all of the stuff they had for sale.  Whole stalls of just cheese!  And seafood of every kind!  Eventually, though, we found an Asian market that had okra, and I bought half a kilo to fry up at home.  On our way out we passed a fruit stall that had mangoes 5 for a Euro, so Ionuţ finally got to try one.  They’re all gone now; he liked them.  A little bit of cheese and some postcards home and we were very pleased with our vacation.  After the men finished with the car, we took it downtown.  They showed us the canals, the palace, and the flower market.  It was amazing. 

When we got home Saturday afternoon, we slept.  But by Sunday morning I realized that God had provided for my needs, even when I didn’t know I needed them.  I was so caught up on what we were going to eat next and how to keep gas in the car so we could go to work, I was worn down.  My life had narrowed to a place where I wasn’t having any fun anymore.  And God saw that.  And as bizarre as it may sound, I believe God saw our need for a vacation and provided for us.  He doesn’t just want us ‘not hungry,’ he wants us ‘fully satisfied.’ 

Brumhilda is on the mend again.  After complaining that all I ever do is drive, she sat outside the house for almost two weeks and I got a chance to walk for a bit.  This week, though, Ionuţ and I (with help from another missionary friend here) figured out how to get the alternator out and took it to the electrician’s.  They replaced a little bitty part, and then Ionuţ and I had to figure out how to get the alternator back in the car.  When everything was hooked up and all the bolts and belts tightened, we prayed and pulled the ignition knob.  She turned right over, just like she hadn’t been sitting idle for two weeks.  And the battery light hasn’t come on since.  J  Again, God’s perfect timing and provision, because this week we need to buy and deliver food to the widows in Timiş County (directly south of Arad County). 

After the refreshing vacation and some long talks with Jackie, I have come to the conclusion that God sent me here to work with children, and I need to be doing that.  Children are my calling; the elderly are Ionut’s.  So I got back to the orphanages.  At CP010 on Thursday I talked to a lady who works in Gţ’s house.  He had seen me come in and we were playing.  She told me that they are making him dress and undress himself now.  He’s a lazy little guy, though, and if he can trick you into doing it for him, he will.  But he is definitely smart enough and coordinated enough to do it himself.  Needless to say, I am really pleased with the way they are making him learn to be independent.  While we were talking she told me Gţ knows three words.  I was surprised, because I’ve only heard him say two.  We compared notes and it seems he has a grand total of four words in his vocabulary: aşa (like this), ciao, Lidia (the worker at CP010 he is so fond of) and Cassandra.  I figured she was just flattering me; who ever heard of ‘Cassandra’ as a first word?  But she insisted he says it all the time when I’m not there.  (Of course, he refuses to say it when I’m around.)  I thought back to when I had to leave Romania in December of 2004.  I was so worried about leaving him for so long.  (I ended up staying in America for seven months that time.)  When I left, the workers promised me that by the time I came back, he would be able to say my name.  At that time he didn’t make any noises at all, so I figured it was a nice gesture.  And now, three years later, he knows and says my name.  One more thing I didn’t even know was missing, but I definitely needed.  Thanks, God.

The fun thing about God’s provision is that it’s not just a line between me and God.  God’s provision is more like a web.  He uses others to provide for me, but he also uses me to provide for others.  Last Tuesday Jackie and I were in town running errands together. (She drives, I go inside and stand in line; it is actually a perfect system.)  While we were downtown, we saw an old woman begging in the street.  Jackie sent me to go talk to her.  So I went.  And like everyone else on this earth, she had a story to tell to anyone who would listen.  Her daughter died last year of uterine cancer.  She left four children.  The daughter had lived one year from the time she found out she had cancer, but in that year she was on morphine injections for the pain.  In Romania, nurses come to your home to give injections, but you have to pay for the medicine and for the nurse.  To pay the nurse, she borrowed money from just about everyone in her village.  So the old woman had amassed a debt of about $1100 before her daughter succumbed to the cancer.  Her pension is about $75 per month.  For the past year, she has been hitch hiking to Arad every Monday, begging during the day to pay off the debt and sleeping in the train station at night until Friday, when she goes home to take care of her house and do laundry before starting over again.  I asked the woman for her address and if we could visit her on the weekend when she was home.  She gave me her information, but said the other people who said they’d visit never came. 

Saturday, after Brumhilda was running again, we drove over to Jackie’s house, and together we drove about half an hour to Socodor, where the woman lives.  Ionuţ knocked on the door and went into the room ahead of me.  The woman was confused until I poked my head around his shoulder and said, “See, I told you I’d visit.”  She was so amazed she started to cry.  We visited for a while, and then asked if we could come back next Saturday, to meet two of the children who were away at church.  On the way home, we told Jackie everything we had learned, and Jackie decided that we can pay off the woman’s debt.  The woman is 78 years old, and she does not need to be begging for the rest of her life.  But more than the few months or years of peace we can buy her by paying off the debt, we want to make sure she knows exactly what this is.  God heard her prayer.  God orchestrated our meeting, and He is providing for her need.  The woman’s debt will be paid.  Here, though, we have a unique chance to offer her an eternity with this wonderful God of provision. 

So I’m walking this road, learning more every day.  If I don’t have it, I probably don’t need it, and if God gives it to me, I probably needed it more than I realized.  I am learning to trust this Provider, not just for myself, but for my family now.  It’s a wild ride, but ultimately the safest I’ve ever been on.  J

Amen.