I wish I were a writer. I wish I could tell you about the last week of my life in a way that makes you feel like you were there. Better yet, I wish you were there. Suffice it to say that it was one of the best experiences of my life. Too good, in fact, to fit everything into one blog post! So here’s part one. :)
I walked into the meeting room of Hotel Brams, and I knew. These Roma were different. They were family. They had all the same qualities of the Roma I know in Skopje—loud, laughing, singing every chance they got—but with an added sweetness I knew could only come from the Spirit.
The eight Roma men had come from Romania with two American workers. Eight Roma men on a mission trip to reach their fellow Roma. And I didn’t have to understand their prayers that first night to know that this was exactly what they were asking for—that the Light would reach into these dark, Muslim communities and change them.
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| Love these brothers of mine :) |
Something you should know about the Roma—they have their own language. They speak the language of the country where they live (here, Macedonian; where these men live, Romanian), and they also speak Romani, which varies from dialect to dialect but is similar enough to allow them to communicate with Roma from other countries. Instant connection.
In Bitola, though, where we spent our first two days together, many of the Roma have lost their native language and speak only Macedonian. When we arrived, I wondered how this would work. Only two of the Romanians spoke English, so this meant that everything would have to be translated from Romanian or Romani to English and then into Macedonian.
We began our home visits in the pouring rain. We hiked up mountains to houses that I’m sure no one ever visits, to homes so high up that we could see the entire city and surrounding mountains from their front steps. As we struggled up and down the steep, muddy paths, Psalm 66:9 came to mind: “He has… kept our feet from slipping.” The fact that none of us fell and slid down the mountain was a miracle in itself!
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| Heading up the mountain. |
The first few conversations were translated from Romanian or Romani into English and then into Macedonian, but then He did something amazing. In almost every home, some unexpected family member or friend would walk in that spoke—you guessed it—Romani. That's so like Him. :) So instead of translating everything through three languages, the Gospel was shared in Romani and translated straight into Macedonian. Some of the very people we were sharing with acted as translators!
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| Playing football with an incredible view. |
It was amazing to see the men share their testimonies--man to man, father to father, brother to brother. The praise of the Lord was always on their lips. As I sat on the couch in one home with Betty and two of the Romanian Roma listening to 21-year-old Buni share his testimony with a fellow musician, I was blown away--and encouraged--and thankful--by this living evidence that He is moving among the Roma.
